Recipe: Bitter Greens And Clementines Salad

My mother, a child of the Depression, grew up on a farm in South Carolina. Money was scarce, as it was for almost everyone. But, on a farm, there was food. Years later, when I was a child visiting the farm in the summertime, we played in the by-then overgrown orchard, where there had once been plums, apricots and peaches. There was a big fig tree by the house, and some pecan trees. We would run down a path by the chicken house and the red dirt root cellar on our way to the pastures and the creek, which was pronounced “crick.” No swimming: copperheads. We used to dare each other to touch the tips of our tongues to the salt licks set in the fields for the cows.

What was scarce in my mother’s day, besides cash to pay for things that couldn’t be raised or grown, like taxes and power bills, were the sort of exotic luxuries we take for granted these days. Bananas, oranges, coconuts. These were seen only at Christmas, when the local small-town store brought them in. I wonder how many of us recognize the miracles that are an everyday, common part of our lives now. We are so lucky.

A single orange was found then in the toe of each child’s Christmas stocking. My grandmother was the queen of the coconut cake, and her children, when they were old, still talked about how good it was. There was a mahogany corner cabinet in the dining room where these rare cakes were kept, and the oil living in the coconut had breathed and been absorbed into the wood of the cabinet over the years. I used to open the door, close my eyes, and inhale, just for pleasure. Sadly, my grandmother’s secrets died with her, and I’ve never found a cake that matched hers. My mother said she was pretty sure coconut water drained from the pierced nut was lightly brushed over the baked layers. Shattery seven-minute icing, I speculate, and fresh grated coconut only, none of that cream cheese and packaged coconut rubbish.

Here we are in winter’s citrus season, when the fruit is sweetest and juiciest. Do yourself a favor and squeeze oranges and lemons now, so you’ll have a freezer stash stored for summer. I also save blood orange and clementine juices, and use them for granitas — recipes coming when it’s hot out.

My parents and I used to go to a restaurant outside Washington called I Matti. I hadn’t been there in years, but I was still sad to read that it closed a few years ago. It was owned by Roberto Donna, who still has, I believe, a very high-end and celebrated restaurant in D.C.  I Matti was a casual, modest place. I had polenta with grilled marinated quail for the first time there, so good I ordered it every time we went, and this salad:

Bitter Greens and Clementines Salad

The amounts of these ingredients will depend on how many people you’re serving. The amounts below will serve four to six.

A head of frisee lettuce
A head of radicchio
1 medium to large shallot, very thinly sliced
Green olives, pitted and sliced, however many you like. I buy Divina Castelvetrano olives, buttery and good.
3 or 4 clementines, peeled and sectioned
A dressing made with vinegar, oil, garlic, s and p, and a little Dijon mustard

If you’re not sure all the people at the table will be happy with only bitter greens — I love them — you can add a moderate amount of more neutral, crunchy lettuce; small romaine leaves, bib, etc.

Wash and dry the lettuces; break the leaves into manageable pieces and toss them with a light amount of dressing. Add everything else and a little more dressing, toss again.

I wrote the ingredients for this salad on a deposit slip from my mother’s checkbook, the only paper we had with us, and that’s how I have kept it.

My mother’s birthday was this coming Saturday, February 19. Hi Mom.