Blog

This is my most treasured kitchen tip  that I will share with you today. This single store-bought phenomenon has turned salad construction into a delight. Here's how it works:

- First, purchase a food-grade clear plastic box (with lid) that is large enough to hold the equivalent of at least 5 nights worth of salad greens. Obviously, it needs to be small enough to fit on a shelf in your refrigerator. My own purchase is a Rubbermaid model measuring 11-by 16-inches, and is only 6 inches tall.

- Purchase your salad greens. NOT the "Salad In A Bag" variety. We're talking genuine heads of lettuce, with all of the leaves still attached to the stem. I buy 6-pack bags of Romaine lettuce hearts from Costco.

- Prep your greens for the box by removing each and every leaf and rinsing them in cool water. Vigorously shake the leaves (but don't dry them) and arrange them in the box. I like to arrange them in two or three groupings, beginning with the darkest and least crunchy at one end and the crunchiest at the other. That way, when making my salad each night, I can easily monitor the balance of textures.

- That's it. You will be shocked at how dramatically this simple box will alter your attitude about throwing together the evening salad. No wrestling with grimy Romaine leaves at the last minute. No pawing through slimy butterleaf in a clinging plastic produce bag. The box keeps the collection of greens hydrated and crisp down to the last leaf. And the prep work has already been done.

- Okay, so what happens to all of the other salad ingredients you ask? Won't they continue to wreak havoc on one another in the vegetable bins? Nope. When I removed the lettuce element from that environment, all of the other vegetables suddenly behaved. Mainly because they were no longer fighting for space. But also, because it was suddenly easier to police the situation and nip any problems in the bud, so to speak.

JAN'S AMAZING VINAIGRETTE BASE

You know the biggest problem with homemade vinaigrettes? We store them in the refrigerator to keep all the herbs and garlic fresh, but when you go to use them - if you haven’t thought ahead and removed the vinaigrette from the fridge - the olive oil is thick and gunky until it gets up to room temperature. So...I’ve developed this amazing "salad helper." It’s a vinaigrette base made from red wine vinegar with gobs of minced garlic, lots of fresh-ground peppercorns, salt, and a pinch of sugar. Store THIS mixture in the refrigerator and keep the olive oil in the pantry at room temperature. Then...when you’re ready to toss the evening salad, just whisk together some of the zesty vinaigrette base with the desired amount of your room-temp olive oil and you’ve got a tossed-green in no time.

Makes 3 cups of Vinaigrette Base; enough to create at least 6 cups of vinaigrette. That’s a ratio of 1 part vinaigrette base to 1 part olive oil; some people prefer an oilier vinaigrette, in which case, your vinaigrette base will make considerably more vinaigrette.

3 cups red wine vinegar

3 tablespoons chopped fresh garlic (6 large cloves)

1-3/4 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon sugar

1/2 teaspoon greshly ground black pepper

Whisk together all of the ingredients in a bowl (preferably one with a pouring spout). Select a 3- to 4-cup capacity bottle or jar with a screw-top lid (consider using empty liquor or water bottles). Pour the prepared vinegar mixture through a funnel into the bottle and store in the refrigerator.

To prepare vinaigrette as needed, whisk together desired amounts of the vinegar base with good quality olive oil. You can either do this right in the salad bowl and toss with the salad ingredients, or you can whisk a small amount in a separate cup then drizzle over your salad before tossing.

Dijon Vinaigrette Alternative: To 1/2 cup of my Vinaigrette Base, whisk in 1 teaspoon of Dijon mustard and a splash of soy sauce or Ponzu sauce before whisking in the olive oil.

SAVE THE DATE!  My Second Annual Tyee Harvest Dinner for Nuts.

Friday, July 13th.

 Last year it was a celebration for my newly-relased cookbook, "Oregon Hazelnut Country - the food, the drink, the spirit." We were welcomed to the Buchanan Family Century Farm and Tyee Winery by Margy and Dave Buchanan and Tyee winemaker, Merrilee Buchanan Benson. The stand-up course took place in their hazelnut orchard. Then it was up to the barn for white linens, china, and a country feast of delights straight out of my book. (Note: Transportation from the orchard to the barn was provided - but many chose to take a lovely stroll.) The meal was prepared and served perfectly by our region's finest caterer, Valley Catering.

Naturally, all of Tyee's wines paired beautifully with the courses.

Well...We're doing it again! And seating is limited.

For details, including a look at the menu, and reservations, go to www.tyeewine.com 

 The Soup Course!

And it ends with a bonfire!

For more info, a peek at the menu, and reservations, go to www.tyeewine.com

Thirty years of marriage and we're down to our last three original dinner plates. Beginning with twelve in 1981, by the turn of the century it was The Final Four. Then, last week, one more slipped from my grasp.

It's just the everyday stuff, of course, not the company china. So much less of a tragedy one would think. But as I stood there holding the crisply broken pieces back in place one last time before placing them in the trash, I realized what a lifetime of family experiences had been layered over the surface of this common pottery. For me, the memories were etched into the fragments as palpably as the delicate crackling in the glaze of my mother's favorite teapot that gives it such character. Or the fine lines emerging on my face.

It's the everyday experiences, conducted around those everyday dishes, that build up to make a life. The kind of below-the-radar accumulation that doesn't even seem precious until you're looking back and you realize that it underpins all the "significant" outcomes you thought were taking place around the good china.

As a cook, you might find comfort in these thoughts, not only in the context of family life, but also in that of environmental awareness. The foundation for stewardship of the land is not made up of legislation, but of countless gestures of small individual significance that build widespread understanding of our inescapable connection to and dependence upon this land.

Like this week's harvest of fresh, local produce. Just as surely as you gain a satisfying moment from the act of cooking with the seasons, you're transferring a tiny sense of wonder to all who come in contact with the process: the grandchild apprentice who will never forget the aroma of fresh-picked blackberries simmering in sugar, your college-bound son discovering the dish of apple cobbler you tucked into a corner of his trunk before he pulled out of the driveway, all the friends who sit at your table.

And so, every time you choose to step into the kitchen and wrestle a peck of Oregon berries (or peaches, or pears or tomatoes) into edible offerings, you've banked one more coin in the Oregon Trust. Which is why I say, to nourish these lands so that they will continue to inspire and sustain us is accomplished one unremarkable step at a time. Just as the layering on of routine experiences within a family ultimately defines that family, celebrating the season's bounty can be considered about as ordinary as your first set of dishes.