Color and Salads

I remember vividly the colors of Spain- the golden yellow cobblestone paths, the vibrant red walls of the tapas bars that I frequented, the chalky gray-white countertops where I'd sip from small glasses of café con leche and slice a fork through those bright yellow wedges of tortilla de patata flecked with caramelized onions.

Paris has its own color scheme- lots of grays throughout the paved streets, creamy white and pastel buildings, dark roofs, bright yellow post offices, and red awnings of brasseries, perhaps with golden letters written elegantly on their windows. Yet one thing I'm grateful for here in my color-seeking ways is the fact that there are splashes of green throughout this city. Sure, I see lots of trees on streets and in these lush parks, but the green I'm most excited to see that that which billows off of giant white plates set on wooden tables....Yes, I'm talking about salad greens.

I think that the French have mastered the art of the salade composée, or, in English, the composed salad. The very base of a composed salad is a pillow-y mass of greens. As much as I love Romaine lettuce, the French salad calls for a collection of greens so soft and gentle-looking a person might be tempted to rest his or her head against the pile and dream of frolicking through French farmland. The item to top the salad is determined by the whims of the chef. I've seen toasts with baked chèvre balancing precariously on the lettuce, draped pieces of prize jambon, little balls of mozzarella and melon, sliced hard-boiled eggs, grilled and curried chicken, you name it! Accompanied by a small basket of hand-sliced baguette, these salads are the epitome of summer to me.

In Paris, one can find these salads at almost any restaurant, bistro, or brasserie. However, I'll give you a tip for the best salad-sighting. Head out to an antique fair around lunchtime and watch as the vendors set up their midday meal. There's nothing more rustic-looking to me than a woman peeling apart layers of sliced ham on a wooden charcuterie board as her son tosses a brilliant pile of multi-colored butter lettuces and her husband mixes the vinegarette in some ancient jar. Normally, on the fold-out table will be a generous wedge of brie and some pain de la campagne as well.

I've been making my own composed salads recently with wedges of tomatoes, cucumbers, eggs, and parsley. I also had quite a nice one with nectarines, mozzarrella, and Parma ham... all tossed with peppery arugula. While I'd like to leave the salad creativity to you, I thought I'd link to this wonderful recipe for a French vinaigrette, courtesy of the amazing David Lebovitz. Make sure you get your hands on a really good Dijon mustard for it!

Bon Appetit!