54 Degrees at 7:30 a.m.

That's right. Monday was a rainy, windy, surprisingly warm day here in the Hudson Valley. As I am on the morning shift for the dog's walk, it was nice for once not to be greeted by bitter cold air. With bitter cold air, though, it's easy to know what to eat: hearty sausage rice soup, creamy hot chocolate, spicy penne all'arrabbiata. What does one eat in January when the weather screams April but without the wonderful April produce (asparagus, rhubarb, strawberries)?

Salad. Not any salad will do. It's still January so something substantial is required. Sure there can be lettuce, but we need protein, and fruit, and cheese! Hooray for cheese!

The source of this formula, as it's not a recipe in a traditional sense, is my Aunt Nancy. Aunt Nancy is a wonderful person who has come to be more than an aunt. She's the complete package: best friend, sister, and mother figure (but only when I need a good swift kick in the pants). She has been a major part of my life for as long as I can remember. The only solid holiday tradition in my life is Easter spent at her sanctuary of a home on Long Island. It is such a peaceful, relaxing space. We play cards and Scrabble, and eat well, incredibly well.

This past Thanksgiving we had the good fortune to spend it with her, my wonderful uncle Jamie, and my cousin Abbey. We have such a good deal going...we show up, we eat, we drink, we lay about, and we leave. Don't hate us too much as we have to navigate New York City traffic to get there. If you think, as I thought, that driving on Thanksgiving Day would make for light traffic that would be a mistake. At least twice per year for the last three years, we've made the round-trip drive from the Hudson Valley to Long Island (hello Throgs Neck Bridge!), and the worst traffic we've encountered in all those years was this past Thanksgiving Day.

It was with relief we finally arrived at their house, and then joy when we saw all the wonderful food being manipulated in the kitchen. For the salad course, Nancy said she was inspired by Primo restaurant in Maine. She placed all the components in front of me, and I was tasked with composing the salads.


A base of mesclun mix supported nearly equal amounts of prosciutto, goat cheese, mango slices, and fresh fig slices.



Oh my goodness - I am licking my lips just thinking about it as it was that good! The salt of the prosciutto would hit you only to be eclipsed by a little sweet-tart punch from the mangoes that would then settle into the creamy earthiness of the interplay between goat cheese and figs. This combination calls for a mild dressing and so Nancy made shallot vinaigrette.

Again, this is more of a formula than a recipe, and in addition to Nancy's wonderful composition, I have come up with few of my own. Amounts will vary based on use. For a salad course, each item, except the lettuce, should be around one ounce. However, I encourage you to play around and decide what works best for you. Regarding dressing, use your favorite recipe or brand. I've posted to links to some recipes I like.

SALAD a la NANCY
Mesclun mix
Fresh figs, sliced (depending on size, you'll need 1/2 to 1 whole fig per salad)
Goat cheese, crumbled
Fresh, ripe mango, julienned
Prosciutto, sliced
Shallot vinaigrette (recipe)

SPANISH version
Mesclun mix
Manchego cheese, thinly sliced
Serrano ham, thinly sliced
Fresh figs, sliced
Marcona almonds
Sherry vinaigrette (recipe)

ITALIAN version
Mesclun mix
Pecorino Toscano, shaved
Prosciutto, thinly sliced
Fresh, ripe pear, thinly sliced
Walnuts or hazelnuts, toasted
Red wine vinaigrette (recipe)

Turkey Tacos!

Last week I stuck taco meat in my ear. This act, of course, was not intentional. I have yet to encounter the person who has done this and thought, "Well, what a worthwhile endeavor!" No, taco meat in the ear is a chunky version of a wet willy and undesirable on nearly every level.

How I came to have taco meat in my ear is understandable. I was eating a delicious turkey taco in a hard corn tortilla shell. As you know, when you are eating a hard shell taco, once you've committed to the first bite, you have committed to every bite thereafter until it is finished. On bite one, the shell breaks and only your hand is holding the whole contraption together. I always hold the taco in my right hand. I had not noticed that taco drippings had graced my left hand. My hair was not pulled back off my face and was itching my left ear. I could not afford to have an ear itch at this point as I had already committed to eat the entire taco. I used my free left hand to bring the loose hairs away from the ear. Then I felt it. That awful feeling of wetness in a location that should not be wet at that moment in time, and I discovered I had left taco meat in my ear.

I know you're wondering how I could possibly post a taco recipe after that story, but apparently I have no qualms about doing it. Brian and I eat turkey tacos on average every two weeks. They are incredibly simple to put together, fairly nutritious (minus the taco shell), and fast. I never tire of them, which is saying something because I have probably eaten tacos monthly since I've been eating solid foods (so 34 years give or take). When Brian and I first got together for the second time (long story), and I suggested tacos for dinner, he opened the cabinet and reached for seasoning mix. It is my love for this man that kept me from running out the door. It is his patience and openness to new things that allowed him to embrace my way of making tacos.

My disgust for taco seasoning mix at an early age was the first indicator I might adore food, its preparation and its consumption. I was at a slumber party at the cool girl's house. She also happened to be nice and inclusive which explains why most of our third grade class was there. The kitchen was open to the living area, and so while playing I watched her mother prep dinner in the kitchen. I saw her mother put seasoning mix in the taco meat. At first my objection was purely conjectural. My mother didn't use it and therefore it must be bad. Conjectural led to empirical because the first taste of the slumber party taco let me know that seasoning mix is evil.

My mother's blossoming into a fine cook took time, but her tacos were great from the very beginning (also known as my early years). She is an amazing person, a single mother who raised two children while still creating a professional life for herself. Tacos were one of her early successes in the kitchen. This recipe is hers.

The taco mixture will seem too liquid at first, but keep simmering.

The mixture is done when there is very little liquid left in the pan.

TURKEY TACOS
Serves 3-4

1 medium yellow onion, diced
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 T canola oil
1 to 1 1/4 pounds ground turkey (or beef)
1 4-oz. can diced green chiles (I prefer the Hatch brand)
1 8 oz. can tomato sauce
1 t. cumin (I like cumin so I put in 1/2 T.)
1/4 t. cayenne pepper
salt and pepper to taste

Augmentations:
tortillas and/or taco shells
chopped tomatoes
shredded lettuce
shredded cheddar cheese
sour cream
hot sauce

Heat a 10 to 12-inch saute pan over medium to medium-high heat. Add the oil and swirl around the pan. Add the onions and garlic, and saute just until translucent. Add the meat and break it apart with a fork or spoon. Once the meat is broken up and fully mixed into the onions, add the green chiles, tomato sauce, spices, and salt and pepper. Let the mixture simmer down, which should take approximately ten minutes. Remember, you want very little extra liquid in the pan, otherwise you'll have taco meat dripping all over your hand.

While the taco meat mixture reduces, preheat the oven to 190 F. Warm up the taco shells and/or tortillas in the oven. When the meat is ready, put it in your vessel of choice augment with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and/or hot sauce.