I have no idea if this salad is Italian or not, but I felt Italian when I was eating it so I’m calling it Italian. 

The recipe popped up on Cup of Jo recently. Apparently it’s been around for a long time, but I had no idea so: new to me! It’s not a throw-together salad — I had to go shopping for half the ingredients (radicchio, iceberg, pepperoncini, Genoa salami, provolone, red onion, cherry tomatoes) — but it’s a fun one, and it feeds a crowd. 

The family actually wasn’t that keen on it — maybe because it was the main course and they were hoping for more? Needy eaters, sheesh — but with a glass of red wine and some sourdough, I thought it made a fabulous complete meal. I ate myself silly. 

I wasn’t sure how the leftovers would hold up — and we had a lot leftover — but I needn’t have worried. In the fridge, everything softened and melded together, making it an altogether different dish. For my lunches this week, I’ve been griddling a piece of sourdough bread to go with my big bowl of salad. I use the toast as a shovel and juice sopper-upper and then, since there’s always a good puddle at the end, I tip the bowl into my mouth and slurp up the rest.  

I think the day-(or three)-old salad would make a great sandwich filling. I’d use a soft Italian bread, the center plucked out to make a bread canoe, and then stuffed full of juicy, salty, tangy salad, mmmm. It’d also go good, I think, piled in a grilled cheese or stuffed into a wrap.

And as for the little bit of dressing that was left over? I added it to the beef veggie soup I made last night. The acidic, herby, garlicky dressing gave the soup an excellent little flavor kick. It’d also be good in tomato soup, scrambled eggs, and drizzled over roasted veggies. In other words, too much dressing is not a thing.

Italian Chopped Salad
Adapted from Nancy Silverton’s recipe on Food52.

for the salad:
1-2 heads radicchio, chopped
1 head iceberg, chopped
1 can chickpeas, drained
2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved and lightly salted
¼ pound provolone, cut into matchsticks
¼ pound Genoa salami, cut into matchsticks
½ red onion, the layers separated and then cut in thin strips and soaked in cold water
5-8 pepperoncini, cut into rings
juice of half a lemon

Pile everything into a large bowl and drizzle with the lemon juice.

for the dressing:
2½ tablespoons red wine vinegar
2 tablespoons dried oregano
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1-2 cloves garlic, pressed or grated
½ – 1 teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon ground black pepper
1½ cups olive oil

Stir together the vinegar, oregano, lemon juice, garlic, salt, and pepper and let rest for 5-10 minutes. Slowly whisk in the olive oil. Drizzle over the salad and toss to combine.

To finish the salad, sprinkle with more salt, pepper, and dried oregano, and another generous spritz of lemon juice, as desired.   

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (9.23.19), better than cake, the quotidian (9.24.12), painting my belly, roasted butternut squash salad.

I tried to write this morning but it just felt like fiddling so I gave up and came downstairs. But what to do? The kids were both gone for the day and, with nothing pressing, I felt adrift. But then, needing (okay, wanting) something sweet, I mixed up a pan of brownies and soon, in an “if you give a mouse a cookie” series of events, I had a bunch of things going at once. Here, I’ll show you….

After I started the brownies, I decided I wanted cake, too (nibble-nibble, says the mouse). I’m trying a new recipe — one that calls for cake mix and instant pudding mix. Yikes, I feel so naughty typing that! But hear me out: through the grapevine, I’ve learned that expert, normally-from-scratch, and wholegrain-loving bakers use this method for their cakes. So I’m testing it to see what we think. And anyway, it’s not like I’m food-virtuous or anything; some days, my diet consists mostly of Twizzlers….

Milk jars draining. Milk jars everywhere, really. The fridge fills up with milk, I empty it out, we wash the jars — this is our pattern. And you know what? I wish we had more milk. That’s right, two to three gallons of milk is not enough. My appetite for cheese making is limited by the amount of milk we get, and already I’m mildly panicking about what we’ll do when Daisy goes dry.

Sourdough baby, happily bubbling away after its breakfast feeding. Also, a squirt bottle of vinegar and water solution. I’m constantly spraying my cheese-making equipment. Just today, I discovered I had mold growing on my Dry Jack cheese and the mat was a fuzzy mess, so: scrub-scrub, squirt-squirt. (The last few days the humidity was sky-high — or cloud-low — which made for ideal mold-growing conditions, apparently.)

Here’s the three gallons of milk that I’m culturing for Ibores, a Spanish cheese. It’s a low-culture, low-rennet, low-temp cheese. Once it’s pressed and air-dried, the outside gets rubbed with a paste made of smoked paprika and oil.

Also resting on the stovetop, a quart of heavy cream (from the store) that I’m culturing for sour cream. I buy a lot of heavy cream; since our milk is low-fat, I add it to my milk when making cheese.

And . . . freshly-baked sourdough bread! It smells so good. Buttery, almost.

I’m burning a pumpkin spice candle. I get most of my candles from thrift stores. Sometimes they’re real duds, but every now and then I get a winner. Not sure which one this is yet — just started it last night.

Another batch of sourdough in the works. It’s in the fold stage — every thirty minutes or so, for a couple hours, I lift and fold each of the four corners. Next, I’ll let it sit undisturbed for several hours before cutting and shaping it into the two loaf pans. 

My cooking notebook (full of my cheesemaking notes, recipes, menus, etc), and my cheesemaking book. Also, the day’s to-do list and a scattering of pens. Pens are everywhere in this house! Sometimes all I have to do to make the house feel clean is put away all the pens. Also, twisties and rubberbands. Seriously, it’s the little things that make it feel messy.

Big things make it feel messy, too. Like the mountain of dirty dishes awaiting my daughter’s return from her afternoon tutoring session with my parents. She’s on afternoon dishes and my younger son is on supper dishes. Speaking of supper, I’m still undecided. Maybe a ground beef veggie soup to go with fresh buttered bread?

Taking advantage of the residual heat, a cracked-open oven door to warm the chilly kitchen. It’s fall, y’all!!!!

Brewing my afternoon coffee. (I turned on the pot and then, when I didn’t smell the coffee, I realized I’d forgotten to add the water, oops.) It’ll go good with some of that warm brownie topped with ice cream. 

This same time, years previous: a bakery shift, stop and sink, test your movies!, simple roast chicken, cornmeal whole wheat waffles.

Remember that question I posed back in June about what to do with that useless corner in our room? Well, I have a confession. While it was true that for years we didn’t know what to do with that corner, we’d actually already made a decision and acted on it pre-blog post. I know, I know! So dishonest! But I wanted to hear your insights, and there was still the whole room to consider. Maybe someone would offer a solution we hadn’t yet considered and we could incorporate it? Still: misleading. Forgive me, pretty please? 

So let me tell you what we did do: we (er, my husband) tore out the closet.

I suggested this solution when we came back from Puerto Rico, but then it took us the next three years to debate options and then actually do something. Without the closet, the little corner is still useless, but the room feels bigger. Now the window is a part of the room, and the corner is less pinched. And cleaner.

In place of the closet, my husband built a new, much bigger closet directly opposite.

For the first time, we actually have extra hanging space, and he even made shelves for (my) shoes. What extravagance!

I’m particularly fond of the little door knobbies:

The next two projects for the room upgrade are a) some sort of white, free-standing cabinet thingy to replace our dressers (I hate dressers), and b) an under-the-bed frame filled with deep, pull-out drawers for clothes and extra bedding. Once those are in place, then I’ll focus on creating a cozy reading nook with a soft chair and good lighting, and a writing table (though I am rather partial to the current setup…)

Beyond that, I have visions of a dramatically large, unkillable potted plant standing sentry in the empty corner (the aloe plant is temporary), some throw rugs (a sheepskin on the floor by my side of the bed, perhaps?), flowy curtains, a mirror somewhere, and art for the walls. Oh, and viney plants and twinkle lights [insert the Husband Eyeroll] atop the closet. The vibe I’m going for is sparse, spacious, white, calm, airy, but we’ll see. Might take us another decade or so….

This same time, years previous: the quotidian (9.21.20), family night, a bunch of things, grape pie, a day in the life, the quotidian (9.21.15), the quotidian (9.22.14), baking with teachers, candid camera, hurdle-free molten brownie cakes, we love Fred.