Eastside Road, March 16, 2010—VIRTUALLY EVERY DAY I end this blog entry with "Green salad." Sometimes it's "Green salad, of course." And virtually every day it's exactly the same green salad. I mash up a clove of garlic with some good sea salt (that from the Île de Ré is my favorite) in the bottom of the salad bowl, then cover the mash with some good olive oil. This stands while we eat dinner. After dinner I whisk in some vinegar — our own, usually, though lately I've been using up some sherry vinegar that's been standing around too long.
Lindsey will already have washed and spun dry the lettuces, and they get added to the bowl, and Lindsey tosses it all.* Lately I've added a variant, dribbling a bit more oil over the lettuces, and sprinkling a bit more salt.
Tonight, though, after the rest of the tortellini from the other day, I departed completly from routine. No garlic, no mashing. I sliced four scallions thin and added them to the lettuces, then drizzled the oil and sprinkled the salt. It was a completely different salad. Not better, not inferior, just completely different.
Sauvignon blanc, "Viñas Chilenas," 2009
*The Italians say, I've heard, that it takes four people to make salad: a generous fellow to pour the oil, a miser to add the vinegar, a judge to contribute the salt, and a maniac to toss it all.