Celery & Fennel Salad, Cantaloupe & Arugula Salad, and a Baked Potato Bar by Alison Roman

“IT’S THE FI-NAL SAL-LAAAAADS!” (And some baked potatoes!) 

The ones I waited longest to enjoy. Eating these two salads revealed two new discoveries: 1) Hard blue cheese actually isn’t so bad. 2) Black olives are the most inferior kind of olive. Those two ingredients are the sole reasons I waited so long to make these salads. They also confirmed one fact that I already knew by heart: 1) olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper are all you need to dress a fantastic salad. 

I just spent the last few days celebrating a dear college friend who’s getting married soon. A small group of us drove or flew to Sawyer, Michigan where several inches of snow and a cozy cabin by Lake Michigan awaited. Weekends like these remind me just how blessed by community I am. I’ve been gifted friendships with some of the most authentic, kind, goofy, thoughtful women. Perhaps what’s most impressive about them is that they are the same kind of people in friendship as they are in the world every day, towards friends and strangers alike. We don’t see one another more than maybe once a year, which makes our time together all the richer. 

Those who flew, came in through Chicago airports, so they needed a ride to the cabin and back. We had some time to spend before their flights home, so I decided to involve them in making three of my final six recipes for a fancier-than-usual lunch. 

We gathered around my kitchen island and assumed our positions…

Megan: She owns Dining In, and thus has cooked a good number of Alison’s recipes herself. So she took charge of making Alison’s Skillet Chicken with Crushed Olives and Sumac. We’ve both made this several times in the last year because it’s that good. (It’s also the recipe used for the cover of the book). 

Molly: Standing at the corner of the counter, she expertly sliced and seeded a cantaloupe into half-inch thick rounds, then removed the outer skin. Alison says nothing about removing the rind, but we figured it’d be easier to eat that way (duh). Molly also took charge of thinly slicing the celery stalks — like a boss. 

Anne: Standing in the middle, Anne eagerly volunteered to stab the russet potatoes all over with a fork to prep them for the oven. Post-oil, she sprinkled them with salt and pepper. She helped Molly remove the cantaloupe rinds. She coarsely chopped the walnuts and pistachios. She tossed the cantaloupe and arugula together and squeezed a whole lemon all over it. She topped the bowl with the chopped black olives and a handful of chopped chives. 

Caroline: God bless her. At the far end of the counter, she oiled the potatoes by hand. After, she expertly sliced a fennel bulb into thin strips and a shallot into thin rings. She tossed the celery, fennel, lemon juice, shallot, toasted nuts, salt, pepper, and olive oil together. She crumbled the hard blue cheese on top and sprinkled the bowl with celery leaves. Anne and Molly helped with the celery leaves too. She finely chopped the black olives (I used a tiny can of pitted ones from Whole Foods.) 

Yours truly: I played quarterback -- giving each teammate instructions at regular intervals. My few tasks included toasting the nuts in a skillet (I didn’t have enough walnuts to fill half a cup so I added pistachio meats into the mix— a great call), testing each dish and adding salt and pepper to taste, and setting out the baked potato toppings - sour cream, Greek yogurt, butter, flaky salt, pepper, and chopped chives. 

This meal obviously consisted of dishes chosen by necessity. I didn’t consider a cantaloupe and black olive salad to be the first choice pairing for a baked potato bar. But much to my surprise, all four dishes felt surprisingly cohesive as a meal, with the celery and fennel salad as the strongest outlier.

Someone recently asked me what my favorite part has been about this project. My answer? The people I enjoyed the meals with. Every dish created an opportunity to invite people into my home, or bring the food to them, and commune together. Share an experience, talk about what we’re eating, the flavors we’re tasting. A chance to encourage and nourish the people I love. Yes, that is what brings me the most joy. 

221, 222, and 223 recipes cooked, 2 to go.

Persimmon Salads Two Ways: ft. Apples, Cheddar, Spicy Pecans and Blue Cheese by Alison Roman

Until these salads, I’m not sure I understood the purpose of the persimmon. They’re like a slightly sweet, mostly flavorless person at a party that always looks put together with their bright orange outfits and pretty little leafy bows on top, but when you talk to them, you realize that meaningful, deep conversation isn’t their strong suit. Perfectly pleasant persimmon, but does it really make the party a richer event? Alison sure thinks so. In fact, it’s the persimmon’s subtlety she praises. Perhaps I get what she means. 

When it comes to standard vegetable salads, there’s a wealth of virtually flavorless leafy options to populate most of the bowl: romaine, kale, iceberg, spinach, butter lettuce, the list goes on. The leaves give us something to dress, something to pair toppings with. When it comes to fruit salads, what options do we have? Very few fruits don’t make a statement. In fact, I can only think of the persimmon. 

There, that’s it! Persimmons can be the romaine of our fruit salads, at least for the two months a year when they’re in season! To take advantage of their limited seasonality, Alison provided us with two somewhat similar, but truly tasty salad recipes. Even Jordan said both salads top his list for the project. 

< Quick interjection about Alison’s salad recipes -- I think I accidentally chose to make the salads I’d like the least at the beginning. For the first few months, it felt like most every salad I made struck out. It wasn’t so much the recipes themselves, I can see merit to them and why they were included in the book. The flavors just didn’t do it for me. They were usually more acidic and less balanced with salty and sweet. I didn’t want to save the leftovers. But in the last two months or so, every salad has been a hit. > 

Both persimmon salads are lovely, I think I prefer the Persimmon and Pear one a bit more - I love the combination of sweet/spicy nuts and strong, salty cheese with crisp fruit. 

A few notes about Persimmon and Pear Salad with Spicy Pecans and Blue Cheese

  • Be sure to buy Bosc pears like Alison suggests. They’re typically a firmer pear that keeps its shape - perfect for plating in a salad. They’re also perfectly sweet and tangy. 

  • I’ve never liked blue cheese. The smell is too potent and the taste too funky. Alison calls for a firm blue cheese so I bought the smallest block I could find. Much to my surprise, I could tolerate, and even slightly enjoy, the thin shavings of this hard cheese. If you also have a hard time with blue cheese, maybe the stiffer kind will be better? (The smell is still awful though, be forewarned.)

  • The pecans were easily the best part, and so easy to make. Saute pecans in maple syrup and Aleppo pepper until bubbling and sort of “fuzzy” in appearance (Alison’s term, not mine, but it’s true!). Remove from heat and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Chop once cooled. 

A few notes about Vinegared Apples with Persimmon and White Cheddar

  • Not much different from the first salad, except no nuts, and less strong of a choice of cheese. If you’re super, super opposed to blue cheese, I recommend making the other salad and swapping blue cheese for sharp white cheddar. Now you’ll have the best of both worlds!

Both salads are doused with white wine vinegar and drizzled with olive oil, salt, and pepper, which, together, unify the other ingredients. 

182 and 183 recipes cooked, 42 to go.