Salade Niçoise

It’s the small things in life, you know, that color our world.

This morning as I was driving through the countryside to get to the supermarket, the fields were bathed in fog and the only thing that pierced the grey was the white Spring blossoms on the trees.

I stumbled upon a sale of Magnolia trees. My husband loves Magnolia trees because it reminds him of spending his summers at his grandparent’s house. They used to have him go collect the leaves and put them in the fire to give off their crackling sweet perfume.

So I got two trees to plant on either side of the peach tree to form a small hedge. Sir has been in New York for a week and is coming back tonight so he will be surprised.

Unless he reads my blog first.

And then the lights at the supermarket went off everywhere; it was strange to be lost in such a big place bathed in darkness. A chorus of “Joyeux Anniversaire” spontaneously erupted, which made me grin.

So the birds singing in the rising sun on the way home matched my mood to perfection. It’s sunny today and time for salade niçoise.

If you’ve ever been to France or have lived in a cosmopolitan city, you probably not only know what salade niçoise is, but also how to make it. It’s not hard. But sometimes a food post is just as much about reminding us of forgotten recipes as it is to learn something new.  And I was inspired by this cookbook that my friend Alberte lent me:

Notice what’s on the cover?  Well we’re about to make it!

So you wash some lettuce and boil an egg for starters.

This is the most basic of lettuce in France – I think it’s called Boston lettuce in English. I was smitten with it when I first lived here because it almost looks like iceberg lettuce, but has thick velvety leaves. Make sure you rip the lettuce leaves small enough because it’s considered bad manners to cut salad in France.

Slice a few thin onion rings

and a bright red tomato (the selection was poor so I chose cherry tomatoes)

and then slice a few peppers thinly – red or green.

Cook some green beans until tender and then rinse them with cold water when done so that they retain their bright greenness.

Prepare the salad dressing by adding a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar and a pinch of pepper

and then adding 3 tablespoons of vegetable oil.

Criss-cross some anchovies over the top of the salad

(I was so disappointed – my anchovies were more like sardines – not salty at all)

and place slices of the hard-boiled egg plus some black olives with their pits.

Spoon the desired amount of dressing over the salad

and go eat your delicious salade niçoise in the bright sunlight under the shade of the Magnolia tree.

Well … er … one day.  That’ll be the plan.

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