We’ve come a long way from salad defined by iceberg lettuce, waxy rounds of cucumber, flabby wedges of pale unripe tomato and bottled thousand island dressing languishing in a faux-wood bowl. These days salad offerings are some of the most intriguing items on restaurant menus, chock full of seasonal vegetables and fruits, local greens and house made vinaigrettes crafted to enhance, not overpower.
In the clear light of an early summer morning, just-picked local produce is pristine in appearance and calls forth the cook’s desire to improvise. What can be created from the bounty of tables and baskets overflowing with homegrown goodness?
Living less than two hours from the Atlantic coast, I take for granted the access to fresh seafood. Folks in America’s middle surely find seafood in their markets and on their plates, but coastal citizens have the privilege of enjoying seafood hours to a few days from harvest.
It’s the age old question I grapple with : What will I take to work for lunch this week? I stand sulking at the fridge, peering at the jumbled contents. I try to make sense out of the possible ingredient combinations and come up with…zip. Nada.
Being a fan of all things winter, I must be dragged kicking and hollering into the freshness of spring. I got my wish for one last snow in Richmond March 24. Like most southern snowfalls, it arrived magically and left town abruptly, leaving traces here and there and front yard snowmen with collapsed torsos and lumpen, tiny heads.