Burrata Salad Two Ways: Crushed Peas and Tangerines

Two burrata salads, both alike in dignity. Both delicious, one more complex than the other. Both boasting bold ingredients, then tempered by the rich creamy insides of a burrata ball. Both utilizing arugula, one slightly more memorable than the other. 

I’ll start with the most impactful salad: Crushed Peas with Burrata and Black (Green) Olives. 

Yes, I used green Castelvetrano olives here because I like them better than black olives. A whole lot better. I crushed a handful of them and laid them to rest in olive oil while prepping the rest of the salad. Please note that Alison says nothing in the recipe about crushing the olives, but the picture in the book appears to have crushed black olives, so that’s what I did. Plus, I don’t want to eat a whole olive when everything else in the salad is much smaller/crushed. The texture of whole olives just didn’t feel right. 

I used frozen and thawed peas instead of fresh peas. Half of the peas are crushed by hand, (it’s almost as satisfying as crushing canned, whole tomatoes by hand, and less messy) and mixed with the other half of the peas, lemon zest, salt, and pepper. 

I chose arugula, parsley, and tarragon as my greens, since that’s what I had on hand. I tossed them with lemon juice, then set out to arrange the salad. First, tear the burrata into bite-sized pieces and place it in the center of a serving platter. Next, spoon the peas over and around the burrata. Then, scatter the lemony greens over the peas. Finally, spoon the olives and oil over the salad, followed by more oil and flaky salt. I served this salad with Alison’s Pizza Night (post to come) and it was a true hit! Fully of salty, tangy, herby flavor and fun textures that complemented the pizza nicely. I’ll certainly make this one again! 

And finally: Burrata with Tangerines, Shallots, and Watercress

I also used arugula here instead of watercress for convenience reasons. I first marinated the sliced shallots in lemon juice. Then peeled and sliced several tangerines. I arranged the salad in a similar fashion to the one above: torn burrata in the middle, citrus scattered, then greens, then lemony shallots, followed by a drizzle of olive oil, salt and pepper. For those who don’t like funky flavors, this salad is very straightforward and well balanced. It can pair well with a wider range of dishes, compared to the other salad. 

The burrata with tangerines salad feels like something you’d order at a country club, meaning it’s fresh and healthy tasting, but it probably won’t change your life. The burrata and peas salad could easily be ordered at a hip restaurant in Brooklyn, and you might walk away a bit different than before. 

200 and 201 recipes cooked, 24 to go.

Spring Seafood Stew with Peas, New Potatoes, and Tarragon by Alison Roman

It’s snowing furiously outside, sheets of snow flying sideways past the buildings of Chicago. It’s New Year’s Day, 2022. It’s most certainly not Spring. And I would far prefer to be watching the Harry Potter Reunion on HBO instead of writing an essay about seafood stew, but so it goes. 

[Okay, confession. I wrote the above sentences, and then decided to close my laptop and watch part of the HP Reunion. It was a great decision. It’s now January 2.]

I was most certainly not looking forward to making this stew. To eat one kind of seafood requires some self-convincing. To eat three kinds of seafood in one dish is almost impossible for me. This recipe calls for clams (mmm), cod (meh), and smoked trout (huh). I called an “audible” (a sports term I inherited through marriage, FYI) and skipped the smoked trout. While the cod turned out alright, it was a little fishy for my taste. Ultimately, I would have been most happy with this stew if it were just the veggies and the clams. But that’s just me! 

The stew comes together in a multi-step process. First, sauteeing the vegetables - celery, shallot, potato - until soft. The recipe calls for leeks, but I somehow missed it when creating my shopping list, so I made do with what I had on hand. Then white wine and bay leaves join and simmer until partially reduced. I poured seafood stock and water into the dutch oven and brought everything to a simmer, letting the potatoes start to fall apart, about 35 minutes. I will just note here that this was my first time purchasing seafood stock, and beforehand, I was nervous. I imagined a liquid that smelled like a fish tank. Well, I was wrong. I took one whiff of the open stock carton and hardly smelled a thing. Which gave me more confidence in what I was about to consume. 

I plopped my scrubbed clams into the simmering stew, along with a cup of frozen peas. Then placed the lid on and waited for the clams to open - about 12 minutes. The final step requires laying the pieces of cod into the broth while trying not to destroy their delicate flesh. I mostly succeeded. The pot’s lid returns once more so the cod can cook through. 

To serve, I ladled the stew into each bowl, followed by a dollop of crème fraiche and a mixture of parsley, tarragon, and lemon zest. I also warmed some slices of homemade sourdough bread for dipping. Just like Alison’s Clams with Cod and Cream (a v similar recipe, by the way) I would gladly count sourdough dipped in the broth as my dinner. 

A final word about “stew” vs. “chowder.” Alison’s recipe notes say that she waffled between whether to call this recipe a stew or a chowder, but ultimately decided there’s no difference before choosing “stew.” Jordan, Margaret, and I kindly, but firmly, disagree. In the words of Margaret: “I associate chowders with corn and seafood. To me, a chowder has to be creamy, usually through the addition of dairy, but sometimes can happen through other means (like maybe pureeing some portion of the chowder?). I’ve never heard of a beef chowder, for example.” If you have further thoughts on this stew v. chowder debate, feel free to comment below. 

199 recipes cooked, 26 to go.