Posted: 28 Dec 2013 - David Lebovitz
I eat a salad almost every day. I
grab a big bowl, make dressing in it, then toss in whatever ingredients I have
on hand. It might be a hard-boiled egg, miscellaneous greens, bits of roast
chicken, slivered carrots, shredded cabbage, toasted nuts, cherry tomatoes,
crumbled cheese, and so forth – whatever I have on hand. (But hold the alfalfa
sprouts; does anyone really like those?)
It gets pretty frosty in Paris in
the winter, and I always feel sorry for the outdoor market vendors who stand
there and shiver while we decide on what to buy. Those of us who descend on the
market try to get in and out as fast as possible. When it gets really cold,
some vendors huddle near plug-in heaters that don’t seem to do all that much,
but I’m sure are better than nothing. (They have them in some of the French
train stations as well, and people flock to be close to them, as if they were
some mythic totem.)
At home, I’m okay in the heat
department, but each year I vow I’m going to get one of those lights that is
supposed to make you happy
during the gray winter season. I was once a guest on a television show in New
York and they had one in the corner of their kitchen. When I asked if it really
made a difference, they said, “We’re not sure…but we seem to gravitate toward
it, and all of us end up working around it.”
Continue Reading Winter Salad
with Pecans, Pears and Gorgonzola...
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