Miso Happy: Creamy Miso Vinaigrette

Oil and vinegar. Oil and lemon. Oil and balsamic. Mustard vinaigrette on lively greens tossed for the briefest amount of time possible and showered with crunchy salt.

These dressings make a regular appearance at our table, but every now and then I crave the kind of tangy, smooth and creamy dressings I grew up with. My mother's recipe was based on my grandmother's go-to standard, which started with mayonnaise and a squirt of ketchup—an ingredient almost as ubiquitous as cream of mushroom soup in my mom's repertoire—plus a sprinkle of thyme and basil with a pinch of garlic powder, thinned with a splash of milk.

So when I've got some sturdy heads of romaine, escarole or chicories that can stand up to heftier dressings, my thoughts turn to Caesar dressings loaded with anchovy or, lately, miso mixed with mayonnaise (hey Mom!), studded with garlic and a dollop of mustard.

A small Portland-based miso company, Jorinji, makes authentic red and white unpasteurized miso from non-GMO soybeans fermented from six months to three years. Jorinji products are widely available at area supermarkets and last basically forever in the fridge. A little goes a long way, so get some and add a subtle hint of fabulous umami to your marinades, stir-fries, soups and braises.

This vinaigrette can also double as a dip for vegetables and fried foods, or as a drizzle over meats, fish and roasted veggies, and it's a splashy twist on a traditional coleslaw dressing.

Creamy Miso Vinaigrette

3 Tbsp. mayonnaise
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar
1 clove garlic, pressed in a garlic press
1 Tbsp. white miso
Herbs, finely chopped (I like tarragon or thyme as well as some chopped chives)
1 tsp. honey (optional)

Combine ingredients and stir until smooth.

The Perfect Dressing for Your Early Spring Greens

I know it's unfashionable to use the adverb "literally." But I have been hungering for spring. Literally. I was seeing those first shoots of rapini in my dreams—literally—and imagining the whorls of fiddleheads, spears of asparagus and nettle leaves that were soon to make an appearance on my plate.

Violets…in January?

Spring was apparently as anxious as I was to make her debut on our Northwest stage, and I was shocked to discover, in mid-January, miner's lettuce popping out of the ground on parking strips and the scent of violets in the air. By mid-February all hell had broken loose and those earlier scofflaws were joined by rogue daffodils bobbing their yellow heads on sunny slopes and heady clouds of perfume from daphne and witch hazel drifting by on my walks through the neighborhood.

Can you blame my stomach for getting a little rumbly?

Daffodils in February…call 911!
It's a climate emergency!

So when just before Easter my friend Michel, source of much goodness on our table, mentioned that her new favorite brunch was poached eggs on kale dressed with a cherry tomato vinaigrette with Reggiano, I heard a little "ping" in my head. Not just about the poached eggs on kale, which sounded heavenly, but the cherry tomato vinaigrette that had somehow hit just the right note in my spring greens-obsessed brain.

With my nephew bringing his parents over for a brunch-and-Easter egg-fueled extravaganza, I thought Michel's creation might just make a delicious and colorful counterpoint to some bright green asparagus spears. Served alongside a garden-herb-and-cheese-stoked frittata, my craving was satisfied. For the moment.

Michel's Cherry Tomato and Sherry Vinaigrette

1-1 1/2 c. cherry tomatoes, chopped in 1/4" dice
1 Tbsp. olive oil
Splash of sherry vinegar (adjust to taste)
Sea salt to taste
Pepper to taste

In a small mixing bowl combine ingredients and allow to macerate for an hour or so on the counter. Toss with your favorite sturdy greens like kale, asparagus, rapini, etc.

Salad Smackdown: Farro Tabbouleh

A friend put it succinctly when she said that she was itching to shed "the bourbon and blanket lifestyle" we've all adopted (whether in real life or just psychologically) in order to cope with a record-setting wet, cold spring.

For me this means not only switching my wardrobe to t-shirts and sandals, but putting away the soup pots and starting to think outside the Dutch oven. And what are the shorts and sandals of the table but hearty salads made with the fresh greens spilling off of farmers' market tables and popping out of raised beds.

The Italian parsley I planted last year has come back with a vengeance, and the mint I dug up, potted and shared with the neighbors is happily doing what it does best and spreading all over the place once again. And because I was moved to buy some farro recently, I decided to see what it would be like in a tabbouleh-type of salad.

Tossed with some spring onions and garlic and tossed with a lemony vinaigrette, it's a great side dish as is, but would be great with chopped tomatoes and cucumbers when they come along, and the addition of fresh slices of mozzarella alongside would make a nice lunch. For summer barbecues it'll be a perfect light grain dish to go with whole roasted chicken hot off the Weber.

OK, weather, I'm ready for summer now. Bring it on!

Farro Tabbouleh with Lemony Mustard Vinaigrette

For the vinaigrette:
1/2 c. olive oil
6 Tbsp. lemon juice
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
Salt and pepper to taste

For the salad:
3 c. cooked farro
1 c. coarsely chopped fresh mint leaves
1 c. coarsely chopped fresh Italian parsley
1/2 c. diced spring onions, including greens
Salt to taste

To make the vinaigrette, take any tightly lidded container (I often use a leftover [clean] salsa container), put all the ingredients into it, put on the lid and shake like the dickens over the sink, in case, as once happened, the lid wasn't as tight as I thought and I ended up dressing the kitchen instead of the salad. Can be made ahead; stores well for several days in the fridge.

Put 2 cups uncooked farro in the bottom of a large saucepan and cover with 2-3" of water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to simmer and cook for 20 minutes, adding water if it gets too dry, until farro is cooked through but still has a nice resistance when you bite into it…don't let it get mushy. Drain and rinse in cold water to cool. Transfer to large mixing bowl, add remaining ingredients and enough dressing to moisten. Combine and, if time allows, let it sit for an hour or so for flavors to meld. Serve at room temperature.

Try this Farro and Pecorino Salad for another take on this great grain!

Sides of Summer

Summer sides around here take the form of cool salads, whether made from potatoes, grains or, one of my favorites, the much-maligned legume. The mention of a bean salad causes most folks to think of those terrible three-bean salads from the grocery-store deli made from canned green and yellow beans, with canned kidney beans and a sickeningly sweet, oily dressing.

So when I ran across this recipe for a black and white bean salad that called for fresh corn, red onion and red pepper, it didn't even take the mention of the cumin vinaigrette dressing to bring me on board. Easy, tasty and ideal even for the vegans in attendance, this salad will be the star of your summer gatherings.

Black & White Bean Salad with Cumin Vinaigrette
Adapted from The New Basics Cookbook by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins

For the dressing:
1/2 c. cider vinegar
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 1/2 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. garlic, minced
1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
1 1/2 c. olive oil

For the salad:
2 15-oz. cans black beans, drained (or 8 oz. dried beans, cooked)
2 15-oz. cans cannellini or navy beans, drained (or 8 oz. dried beans, cooked)
1 red onion, chopped fine
1 red bell pepper, chopped fine
1 15-oz. package frozen corn (or two ears corn, boiled and kernels cut off)
1/4 c. cilantro leaves, minced

Make the dressing by placing the vinegar, mustard, cumin, garlic, pepper and salt in the bowl of a food processor. Slowly pour in the olive oil while processing till mixture is emulsified.

In large salad bowl, combine all salad ingredients, pour the dressing over the top and stir gently. Best when refrigerated for at least one hour before serving.

Curious About Quinoa

Believe it or not, the cookbook that started me on my quest to break out of my starch rut (Potatoes, rice or pasta?) was written by some nutty group that believed that life on earth began with vacationing extraterrestrials. A gift from a well-intentioned friend, it was, as I recall, mostly if not completely vegetarian, and had some great recipes for using whole grains.

What grains had to do with our intergalactic origins I never quite figured out and the book has long since been purged from our shelves, but I was reminded of it the other day when I had a warm quinoa salad that our neighbor Susana had made.

Originally grown by the Incas, uncooked quinoa (pron. KEEN-wah) looks like tiny brick-red seeds that, after washing and cooking, have a faintly nutty flavor with a bit of crunch. It seems to combine especially well with vegetables and could be served warm or cold, and was perfect for an early summer backyard picnic. And no, no UFOs were sighted.

Quinoa, Fennel and Cherry Tomato Salad

1 c. quinoa, rinsed and drained
1 bulb fennel, halved, trimmed and sliced
1 red onion, chopped fine
1 pt. cherry tomatoes, halved
Several chive stems and flowers for garnish
1 c. house vinaigrette

Bring 2 cups water to boil, add quinoa and reduce heat to bare simmer, cooking until all the water is absorbed. Rinse in cold water and drain to stop cooking. Place in mixing bowl and add other ingredients, pouring in the vinaigrette and stir to combine. Chill or serve at room temperature.

The Basics: House Vinaigrette

I've often thought of salad as something to fill that spot in a menu that calls for something green, as in "protein, starch, green vegetable." It's perfect for a dinner party, since it takes almost no prep other than tearing up leaves in a bowl, drizzling a bit of olive oil and vinegar and sprinkling some salt. Done.

Though there are those times when I'll get a hankering for a salad of radicchio with a creamy Caesar-like dressing, or the classic Caesar itself with spears of crunchy romaine. But the go-to dressing around here is a simple mustard vinaigrette that takes all of five minutes to toss together and gets raves every time. (Just don't let anyone see how easy it is.)

Simple Mustard Vinaigrette

1/2 c. olive oil
1/4 c. lemon juice
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
Salt and pepper to taste

Take any tightly lidded container (I often use a leftover [clean] salsa container), put all the ingredients into it, put on the lid and shake like the dickens over the sink, in case, as once happened, the lid wasn't as tight as I thought and I ended up dressing the kitchen instead of the salad.

Read more recipes in The Basics series: 20 Minute Tomato Sauce, Chile Sauce, Caesar Salad and Strata.