For the last 11 years, I’ve lived in the same apartment in Center City Philadelphia. It has many admirable qualities, including good neighbors, giant closets, and a dreamy location. The one thing it does not have is any outdoor space. This means that when summer rolls around, I have two options when it comes to making classic grilled dishes. I can borrow access to a Weber or I can find a way to fake it in my kitchen. MORE
Green garlic is one of the true joys of spring. It’s immature hardneck garlic, plucked from the rows to give the rest the space they need to grow into heads of garlic that will last through the winter. It’s typically picked before the cloves or their papery layers have formed, and so is entirely edible from top to bottom.
Typically, green garlic is sold in long, grassy stalks with the roots still attached. I like to trim away the leggy roots and use the rest of the vegetable in stir fries, baked goods, salads and pestos.
The flavor of green garlic is bright and mild (compared to storage garlic, at least). It mellows nicely when cooked or roasted. The green tops can be wilted into soups, though do take care to trim away any browning or tough parts.
I am in love—Facebook might call it “Domestic Partnership”—with many condiments. Ketchup, barbecue sauce, honey mustard. Get me a spoon.
But with salad dressing, “It’s Complicated.”
When I eat out, 95% of the time, I ask for my dressing on the side. Yeah, I know the waiter will judge me. He’ll peg me as the kind of girl who owns a lot of expensive yoga pants, and that hurts. My boyfriend finds this special request dumb because he cannot comprehend why anyone would want to eat “just, like, plants.”
But I don’t ask for it on the side to save calories. The thing is, most salad dressing sucks. Unless you’re dining at a nice enough (read: expensive) place that the chef put some real thought into a homemade dressing that perfectly accents a salad’s flavors, you’re going to lose any freshness and crunchiness amid a sea of creamy blah. MORE