3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Los Angeles Times
I like it when you call me Big Salad
Wax on all you want about your favorite cuisine — Italian, Thai, Middle Eastern, French — but I dare you to find any country, however charming, that makes a salad like we do here in California.
And by salad I mean big salad. Yeah, the French do their small plates of tiny greens in a perfectly emulsified vinaigrette. Italians are maestros at dressing a pile of arugula in a coating of olive oil so ethereal that not even one precious leaf wilts. But I'm talking here about salads you can really dig into. Salads that are full of surprises and eat like a treasure hunt, hiding every flavor and texture you could dream of wanting with a leaf of lettuce. I'm talking here about salads that act as a meal.
Los Angeles practically invented the genre, with the OG of meal salads, the Brown Derby's Cobb. The finely chopped La Scala Chopped Salad (from the now-shuttered Beverly Hills institution) was a city treasure. Then along came Wolfgang Puck's Chinois Chicken Salad, which followed in the footsteps of Madame Wu's Chinese Chicken Salad, the salad said to have started the whole sweet crunchy Chinese-ish salad ball rolling. (Chin Chin on the Sunset Strip, credited with popularizing the salad in the '80s and '90s, is closing at the end of this month.)
Those are salads with names and distinct identities. But we Angelenos can (and do!) turn anything into a salad. A can of tuna has inspired endless salads including, it would be only fair to mention, salad Niçoise (the classic French salad composed of tuna, green beans, tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, anchovies and olives). Shredded chicken has infinite possibilities in Salad City. And I once ordered a sushi salad at a Japanese restaurant (albeit in San Diego) that featured a platter of lightly dressed tender greens with edamame and pickled ginger thrown in and, yes, slices of sushi-grade raw fish. It was fresh. Easy. Original. And it was a salad!
No time is fresh-and-easy deliciousness as important as it is in the summertime. Or should we say saladtime. A salad meal is often composed of leftovers, and dressing can be made in advance. Salads are cool and cooling and — whether you're planning a family meal, a Girl Dinner or a party — meal salads are often the answer.
To put together a meal salad of your own, first, think about a theme. If I were making a hamburger salad, the first thing I'd do is think about a hamburger. I'd take it apart in my mind, up the veggie component — iceberg, tomato, raw or grilled onion — and think about what else I like on my burger, such as bacon and pickles. Toss all but the burger patty together with mustard vinaigrette or blue cheese dressing (because mustard and blue cheese are things I would love on any burger) and put the patty — any patty, leftover or prepared for the occasion — cut into quarters, on top.
Are you getting the freewheeling, can't-go-wrong picture?
I have a friend who takes the sweetest, richest, deep-fried Chinese favorite — like orange chicken or sweet-and-sour pork. Tosses mixed Asian greens with a light dressing of sesame oil and lime juice, and then adds the chunks of meat, transforming something decadent and heavy (deep fried and drenched in sweet sticky sauce) into a salad meal that you might even call refreshing!
It's the Asian version of the more common (but not as common as it should be) fried chicken salad, wherein boneless fried chicken tenders or cubes are tossed with lettuce (I'd use frisée) and whatever dressing you want (I'd go with buttermilk dressing to reflect the buttermilk that the chicken is marinated in) and anything else you might like with fried chicken — such as potatoes, bacon or corn.
Steak salad is a personal favorite because I like steak but in small portions, more as a condiment than a main event. To make one, first cook your perfect steak. Then decide on your 'greens,' which might not be green. (I like mine with radicchio.) Choose your dressing — sherry vinaigrette is my go-to for this. Slice the steak. Add anything you might like with steak, like roasted potatoes or a cubed baked potato, grilled onions, fresh or slow-roasted tomatoes, boiled potatoes and / or shaved Parmesan cheese. Toss and enjoy.
I've made many Asian chicken salads. And really. They're all good. You almost can't go wrong with that winning combination of sweet, salty, and crunchy, all conveniently served under the guise of 'healthy' eating. But IYKYK: There's one that stands above the rest. Unless someone can persuade Joan McNamara to share her top-secret recipe for the Joan's on Third Chinese chicken salad — a mountain of shredded iceberg lettuce laced with crispy wonton strips, delicate thin fried rice noodles, sliced velveted chicken and sliced toasted almonds, all tossed together with a mysterious emulsified sweet dressing — we'll have to go out for that one.
Joan?
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Twenty years after it was published, this combination of flavors — slightly sweet marinated salmon, crunchy cucumbers, and avocado — is still a winner. The only thing I'd do differently? I'd toss the vegetables together rather than composing them in sections as they are here, and then break the salmon into large chunks with my hands and gently mix them the time: 1 hour. Serves 4.
What I love about this salad from the steakhouse Jar is just how unexpected the combination of ingredients is — cabbage, fennel, carrots and onion — laced with prosciutto, shredded chicken, olives and feta in a slightly sweet, herby vinaigrette made of champagne and rice wine vinegar — and how well they work together. The vegetables used are also available in winter, so if you fall in love with this salad, as I have, you can enjoy it all year the time: 30 minutes. Serves 2.
There are seemingly endless versions of this L.A. classic. Until someone can convince Joan McNamara of Joan's on Third to share the recipe for hers, we'll have to 'settle' (wink, wink) on Wolfgang Puck' the time: 30 minutes. Serves 6.
