I’ve always been a sucker for colorful vegetables. But hand me another dark, drizzly day, and you’ll find me going gaga at the grocery store for anything chartreuse…or fuchsia…or sunset orange. I need the color to stimulate my senses.
But sometimes I get myself in trouble. Take this whole green cauliflower thing. I love this stuff, which I happen to call Broccoflower®. Because that’s what it’s labeled at my grocery store. I included a side dish recipe for it in Fast, Fresh & Green
This past January, something hot and sexy began creeping its way through the chilly winter snows in Idyllwild, California. Locals were struck with the highly contagious Caseymania, which is like Beatlemania but without the screaming hysterical teenage girls. Well, not in Idyllwild, at least. But to inhabitants of this tiny mountain town, it was close to the same thing.
The median age of the town’s 4,000 inhabitants is 47.2, so hysterical screaming might have been at a minimum, but instead, this all-American town offered up enduring and low-key pride. Casey Abrams is the town’s boy, they own him, they love him and they support him. Even now that he’s been “voted off”, their hope springs eternal.
“He gets to tour, bound to make upwards of a hundred-fifty thou,” you hear an old-timer say with the cantankerous certainty of a gold prospector. Poor Casey never stood a chance. He had three big strikes against him in the TV-blurred minds of the American Idol voters (them being tweenage girls).
Strike 1: He’s funny-looking.
Strike 2: He’s a ginger.
Strike 3: He’s undeniably talented.
This salad makes a regular appearance at my house. It looks very summery but I serve it all year long, assuming I can get decent tomatoes.
It's almost not even a recipe because there is nothing to putting it together. Some light chopping, opening a can and pouring the seasoned rice vinegar over the top. But it's so delicious, so flavorful. In fact, this would be enough for me to call it a meal. However, I have a husband who claims it's not a meal without meat. So yeah.
I always have these ingredients in my house. I often run out of lettuce but these ingredients are around...always.
The seasoned rice vinegar is the key (not the regular). It's the perfect dressing and it's so low in calories compared to salad dressing. No oil is needed either. Give it 15 minutes to marinate and you are done. I won't tell you how good it is with crusty garlic bread.
Cucumber, Tomato and Chickpea Salad
Serves: Serves 4
Ingredients:
2 large vine-ripened tomatoes, chopped
1 English cucumber (this is the one without the seeds), chopped
1 (15 ounce) can chickpeas (Garbanzo beans)
2 Tablespoons finely chopped red onion
1 cup chilled seasoned rice vinegar (more or less if needed)
freshly ground black pepper
Directions:
In a large bowl gently toss together tomatoes, cucumbers, red onion and chickpeas with seasoned rice vinegar. Let sit for 15 minutes to marinate, stirring a couple of times. Season with pepper and serve.
Cathy has her own vineyard and winery in the Willamette Valley of Oregon. She is a food writer for Davis Life Magazine and blogs daily about wine, food and everyday living. She lives with her husband and two sons. You can visit her at noblepig.com.
Let me just say it right here, with the internet as my witness, "I have a serious addiction to potatoes." There, my secret is out.
It's sad, but I am unable to consume a reasonable amount of potatoes when they are placed in close proximity.
Whether they are mashed, made into gratin, scalloped, french fried, baked, latkes, chips and even tater tots, (I could go on and on), I have a propensity to over-indulge in this tuberous root vegetable.
Even when called a tuberous root vegetable, it still doesn't turn me off. I think I'm a potato ho.
I rank potatoes right up there with butter and mayonnaise. Spuds and I go way back.
What I don't appreciate is the "unspoken potato rule". Yes, there is one.
The rule is, "we always wait for the main course meal to enjoy this perfect food".
WHY?
I am not a totalitarian, you probably aren't either, but there are
times when our leftist minds linger on a fleeting thought that fatally
undermines our morality. This thought is induced, as I'm sure you are
aware, by an errant sock.
Stories have been written to explain
the missing sock. Some claim that gnomes are responsible. Others
suggest that socks may have just fallen behind the dryer. These tales
answer the ontological question: Why is my sock missing?
I am
far more concerned with the political and ethical implications of this
conversation. Namely, how should one judge a sock that is missing its
partner. The school of thought, which I tend to follow in my daily
life, is one of tolerance. I throw the singular sock in with rest. One
big socky family. Beautiful.
The other school, says with fascist efficiency: "This sock is not normal, eliminate it."