les deux salades

The French have a delicious way of throwing together a couple things in a way that ends up being simultaneously effortless and amazing. They do it with their outfits, with their parties, and sometimes, even in their kitchens.

These two salads are perfect for a first course, a light lunch, a snack, a side... they're pretty much awesome any time. They require only a few key ingredients, five minutes, and an accompaniment of good, crusty bread.



Carottes Rapees
(or raped carrots, as we Boones call them)

1 pound carrots
2 shallots
1/2 tablespoon white wine vinegar
pinch of sea salt and sugar
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon sunflower oil

Shred the carrots and shallots in a food processor. Whisk together the rest of the ingredients, slowly drizzling in the oil so it emulsifies nicely. Toss with the salad and leave to stand 30 minutes before serving.



Salade des Concombres

Two cucumbers, cubed
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1 clove garlic, minced
4 mint leaves, thinly sliced
Sea salt

Toss all ingredients together and serve chilled.

olive oyl

I tasted tapenade for the first time in Paris, smeared on crusty bread and redolent of salt. And every time I’m in the condiment aisle at the grocery store, its blackish sheen, trapped inside a pathetically small bottle, catches my eye. Then the $7 price tag propels my feet onward.

(By the by, tapenade is this divine purée of black olives, capers, olive oil and anchovies that Europeans adore. Like olives and salt had the most delicious baby ever. Too creepy?)

Spurred by a random streak of inventiveness, and my husband’s recent obsession with gin-and-tonic-soaked olives, I bought two cans of olives -- green and black -- but couldn’t find capers or anchovies. C’est la vie. So I drained and chunked the little buggers in a food processor along with a clove of garlic and, voila! Out came a most delicious olive relish that cannot truly call itself tapenade, but makes my mouth just as happy.

It’s fabulous on a baguette, or try it on good bread with salami, ham and provolone and you’ve got a Muffaletta -- one of only two good things that came out of Louisiana. (The other being Harry Connick Jr.)

Mock Tapenade

1 cup green olives, pimiento-stuffed
1 cup black olives
2 cloves garlic

Blend all ingredients well in a food processor.

a savory marriage...

…of artichokes and crab, that is.

As a rule, I am not a mayonnaise fan. The word itself, even the sight of it, causes my uvula to tense up a bit, in preparation for the inevitable gag.

But as any Southern cook knows, mayonnaise is a necessary evil for truly creamy texture. Dips, salads, dressings, even tomato pies… all require the addition of a glutinous dollop (and Miracle Whip just doesn’t cut it, either.) The French use crème fraîche; we use raw eggs and oil. Nuff said.

And in the gloriously salty relationship of artichokes, crab, and a healthy dusting of parmesan, it is the glue that makes this marvelous mixture so very miraculous. (There’s enough alliteration for you to last till Christmas.)

This particular recipe is passed down from my mom, who snatched it from a lady named LuAnn Schoppe (I know this solely because her name is written on the recipe), and it’s perfect as a culinary launchpad for the holiday season. It’s a quick, easy, scrumptious appetizer to accompany the requisite mixed nuts and champagne punch bowl.

Artichoke Dip

1 can artichokes, drained and chopped

1 can white crabmeat, drained
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1/2 cup parmesan
2 minced garlic cloves

Mix all ingredients; chill and serve.