Lemon-Mustard Aioli Dressing

Lemon-Mustard Aioli Dressing

Welcome to another Recipe Swap! We do this every month, our group of 25 bloggers. I release a vintage recipe, and we each remake it in our unique ways. (Please be sure to check out the other swappers' blogs in the links below.) This month, an Italian custardy dessert, Zabaglione, made the cut.

I didn't quite think about this when I released a dessert recipe to be remade for January 8, but after two weeks of eating holiday food, I couldn't bring myself to make, or eat, another dessert. And so went my rationale to turn this Zabaglione into a "healthier" dish. Zabaglione is essentially an egg sauce, so I kept that part of the technique and applied it to an aioli-style dressing to go on a salad. See? That wasn't too painful. The sauces are similar in that both use egg yolks to suspend other ingredients. That's about it for similarity, true, but the result is a creamy, smooth, tangy dressing that can't be bottled; a fresh aioli uses raw egg yolks, so this dressing should be eaten within a day or two after it is made.

Simple lettuce salad tossed with dressing, undoing sins of holiday eating.

So, I bring you a post-holiday idea to undo a little of the holiday diet damage, Lemon-Mustard Aioli Dressing!

Lemon-Mustard Aioli Dressing
Burwell General Store

Makes: About four ounces, or two family-style salad servings

Ingredients:

Two fresh egg yolks, whites discarded or saved for future use
1/4 cup olive oil
2 tsp shallot, minced
1 Tbsp flat-leaf parsley, minced
1 Tbsp dijon mustard
1 Tbsp whole grain mustard
juice of one lemon (about 1 1/2 Tbsp)
Salt and pepper to taste
lemon wedge and parsley for garnish on salad of your choice

Method:
In a medium-sized metal bowl place two yolks and begin whisking to break up. One spoonful at a time, drizzle in olive oil, whisking constantly to emulsify the yolks and oil. Continue until about a tablespoon of oil remains, (about five minutes) and while whisking, add lemon juice, shallots and parsley. Continue whisking in the remaining oil, adjust taste with salt and pepper. Add more lemon juice if you desire a tangier dressing. Place a layer of cling film directly onto the surface of the dressing and chill in the refrigerator until ready to serve on a salad of your choice. Use within two days of making.

Hey there, radishes.

Foraged acorn salad: a philosophy on life

A few weeks ago, I attended a Los Angeles County Master Food Preservers class to observe for an article I wrote here. While interviewing some of the class members, I met Pascal, owner and operator of Urban Outdoor Skills, an outdoor preparedness school (of sorts). There, he teaches classes on wild food gathering and preservation, alternative energy, and urban self-reliance. Among other things, Pascal brought pickled yucca shoots and purslane salsa to share that night as examples of his homemade foraged preserves. He also brought pickled acorns. To that point, I never tried one. In fact, previously I thought acorns and squirrels went together, not acorns and humans. I tried them, and fell in top-five-food-experiences love. Sour, humble, nutty, and herbaceous, my moment with pickled acorns must have made an impression because as he was packing up, Pascal gave me the rest of the acorns. I am currently rationing them on top of salads and crackers with goat cheese. I haven't yet decided what my last meal with them is going to be.

I asked Pascal if he orients himself and his business more to food foragers or survivalists. In a sentence, he changed a bit of my perspective on life. He explained that typical "survivalist" goers tend to be isolationists man-in-the-mountains apocalyptic types. "Survivalism is a community effort. It's actually a very social activity." 

He's right. In the day-to-day, survivalism takes shape in mild, resourceful forms. I have extra garlic, you have extra tomatoes, he has a pressure canner, we all have tomato sauce. Those daily interactions intensify when times become tough, or extreme. As we watch our society limp along economically and philosophically, I see (and report on) demonstrated acts of our increased resourcefulness. We are becoming more responsible and vocal about our purchasing power and our activities. We are able to wipe our own slates clean right now and start anew, learning things we have always wanted to try, and new skills that add a more tangiable value to our lives. As I watch the Occupy movement coalesce, whatever its outcome, it is pushing "intentional communities" to the front of the media, and if you look at it through the right lens, how is that not the kind of community-based survivalism Pascal is talking about? How is it not an opportunity to do one new thing to improve the household today that we may not have tried in a while? Mend the shirt, stick a lettuce plant in a flower pot. Make a salad from the dandelion greens growing in the yard, and share it with a neighbor.

Our instincts are to pull together, not away, and sharing skills is a skill in itself.

Wild Berry, Mizuna and Smoked Trout Salad

Yesterday's trip to the farmer's market bore no direction, or plans for dinner with corresponding list, so for the first time in a long while, my eyes and nose were the sole decision makers.  My haul:

One package "wild berries"
One bag of mizuna greens
One head of red leaf lettuce
One fuji apple
Baby zucchini, purchased because the same vendor a month ago was selling the predecessors to these zucchini in the form of squash blossoms some of which I used here, prompting the bright idea to follow and cook this vegetable through its growth cycle
One handful of sugar snap peas
One German pastry, of the cream cheese and strawberry variety
One bunch fresh flowers

In the office, I set up my flowers in a vase and victoriously ate one German pastry and an apple.  When I got home, I made a salad and stumbled upon a new favorite flavor combination that will obsess me for a while.  Dear readers, prepare for an onslaught of berries and peppery ingredients recipes to come, starting here.