Chef Suzanne Goin’s Savory Fruit Salad Recipe

recipe inspired by Suzanne GoinI love eating salads, don’t get me wrong. But when it comes to eating out, I skip the leafy greens for the instant gratification of ordering a complex entrée that takes just minutes to come to the table, rather than hours of preparation at home. When I go out I want to have fun. When I’m home I want to keep it simple.

Once outside of the restaurant–be it the one I’m working for or dining at as a customer–I find myself craving simple dishes. I long for perfectly composed salads and uncomplicated appetizers that I see service after service as I wait tables at Tavern.

Thanks to my job as a server for Nancy Silverton, I craved Italian antipasti for years. But now that I work at a new restaurant, I find my cravings are colored by the seasonal whims of my new boss, Chef Suzanne Goin. Her food is rustic, Provencal and thoroughly inspired by the market. Go to the market and it becomes clear why a warmed heirloom tomato, a crisp plum, the lingering flavors of a basil stem could inspire entire dishes on Suzanne’s menu. Her dishes reflect California’s bounty and an unabated passion for great ingredients.

A recent culinary revelation was recently delivered to me via a white plate at pre-service (a daily meeting before dinner service begins). Suzanne described the dish as a fruit salad. More savory than sweet, one perfectly balanced bite made it was clear this was no ordinary fruit salad. Suzanne’s greens were lightly tossed with vinaigrette—ingeniously made with left over basil stems and not-so-perfect plum pieces—and studded with just ripe stone fruits and Marcona almonds.

I’ve been craving it every since. This is my interpretation of her recipe, as prepared for my friends on a recent hot summer’s day. I omitted the nuts, but you can add those back in.

[print_link]Suzanne’s Fruit Salad

1 large bag of mixed greens
1 head of radicchio
1 head of frisee
3 large plums, dark purple and heavy with juice
2 large peaches
2 large nectarines
2 small Geo plums (or a tart, crisp varietal)
1 small bunch of grapes
4 branches of thyme
2 branches of basil
3 oz. red wine vinegar
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 small tangerine, juiced
salt and pepper

To prepare the plum vinaigrette:

Staying close to the seed, slice the stone fruit so that you have two perfect rounds per fruit. Slice the fruit “cheeks” into consistent sized slices. Set aside.

Cut the remaining fruit off the seed of each fruit, being careful to save the uneven pieces for the vinaigrette. Place the random pieces into mortar and crush, being careful to extract as much fruit juice as possible. Put the pulpy juice into a small bowl and add the olive oil, vinegar and tangerine juice. Remove the basil and thyme leaves from the stem. Muddle the herbs’ leaves and the basil stem in a mortar and pestle. Add to the vinaigrette, stir and taste. Add salt and pepper. Taste for balance. Add more acidity (in the form of more red wine vinegar or lemon juice) or seasoning if needed. Put in a jar and let sit for a few minutes. When ready to toss the salad, remove the basil stems.

To prepare the salad:

Chop the radicchio into small slices. Chop the bottom off the frisee and pull apart into individual pieces. Toss the radicchio and frisee into the greens. Toss the fruit with some of the plum vinaigrette in a separate bowl. When ready to serve, toss the greens with the plum vinaigrette, using the least amount necessary.

To compose the salad, place a heaping tablespoon of dressed fruit on a chilled plate, then top with greens. Add pieces of the fruit on top, being sure to drizzle some of the juice over the top of the final salad.

Meyer Lemon Trifle: a Bittersweet Recipe

meyerlemons

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” –proverb

When life gives you Meyer lemons, make as many things as possible.” –Food Woolf

After eating a mouth-puckering Meyer lemon trifle at Suzanne Goin and (her husband) David Lentz’s restaurant, Hungry Cat, I decided to try my hand at recreating the dish for Leah of Spicy Salty Sweet and my annual New Year’s celebration.

With sweeter juice, supple peel, and approachable acidity, the Meyer lemon appeals to cooks seeking bright and floral citrus notes. For a desert-phobe like me, this one hundred year-old lemon hybrid’s approachability is a siren song that inspired me to go beyond my comfort zone. The process of making the dessert required my utmost attention and care; in the end, the trifle was a bright finale at the close of an incredible meal (Matt Bites polished off his trifle in two, happy minutes).

As I prepared to collect information about the history of Meyer lemons and recipe information, I discovered that the cookbook that could make this dish possible had gone missing.  I checked under the stacks of papers on my desk, scoured the trunk of my car, examined the space behind the stove, eye-balled under my bed, lifted dishes (just in case it was hiding between them), and scanned all of my book shelves. From what I can gather, a hungry black hole swallowed the hardcover whole. Surely Suzanne Goin doesn’t have a legion of muses that require karmic payment for inspiration…Or does she?

Ah well, despite the loss, I’m happy; with a dessert this good and relatively easy (this coming from a dessert-phobe), I willingly give an offering to the culinary muses.

photo by White On Rice Couple

[print_link]

Meyer Lemon Trifle
Inspired by a dish at the Hungry Cat
Serves 8

Ingredients:

2 2/3 cups sugar
3 sticks unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
1 1/3 cups fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons grated lemon peel
1/4 teaspoon salt
10 large eggs, beaten to blend

small container of heavy whipping cream (1/2 pint)

two lemons
3/4 cup sugar

Optional: home made or store bought cookies or pound cake for crumbling between layers

For lemon curd:

Combine first 5 ingredients in heavy medium saucepan. Stir over medium heat until butter melts and sugar dissolves. Remove from heat. Slowly add the beaten eggs—being careful not to cook the eggs by adding them too quickly—and whisk constantly. Once you have added all of the eggs to the mixture, return to a medium-low heat. Whisk constantly, until curd thickens (this may happen within 3-4 minutes). Be careful not to let the mixture come to a boil. Strain curd through a sieve into bowl or medium sized casserole dish if you need to chill the mixture quickly. Press plastic wrap directly onto surface of curd and chill, preferably overnight.

For candied lemon zest:

two lemons
3/4 cup sugar

To make your own candied lemon zest:

Wash lemons. Using a vegetable peeler, cut wide strips of zest, being careful to avoid the white pith. Place zests in a small saucepan, cover with cold water and bring to a boil. Let boil for 3 minutes. Remove from heat, drain water, and repeat process two more times.

Next, add 3/4 cup of water and ¾ cups sugar to zests. Cook over low heat until the sugar mixture starts to thicken. Cooking time will be approximately 10 to 15 minutes. *This recipe makes more zest than needed, store extra zests in their candied liquid in an air tight container. Perfect for topping ice cream.

For whipped cream:

In a deep (chilled) metal mixing bowl, beat the half pint of heavy cream until soft peaks form. Use a mixer or a whisk if you want to get an upper arm work out.

Sprinkle with confectioner’s sugar and ½ teaspoon of vanilla extract. Beat until soft peaks return, being careful not to over beat.

To make the trifle:
Fill individual glasses (or bowls) with a layer of lemon curd and whipped cream. Sprinkle crumbled cookies or pound cake on top. Add another layer of lemon curd and whipped cream. Top with candied lemon zest and a cookie.

* Meyer lemon season in Southern California starts in January and can extend to April.

Author’s Note: The missing cookbook was later discovered. It was hiding underneath a stack of ignored bills.

Deconstructed Creamsicle Recipe


Getting to know a place eventually requires a trip to the market. Step into a local  market and discover valuable cultural information, right there on the supermarket shelf. City markets filled with ready-made convenience food show a wholly different snapshot of daily life than the mom-and-pop corner store with a deli counter and an aisle of mismatched necessities.

It wasn’t until I started frequenting farmers’ markets that I really started to understand just how different California was from Massachusetts. Back east, vegetables were named simply: potato, lettuce, corn. In Massachusetts I never thought of varietals, hybrids, heirloom, and organics. But at the markets of California, I saw fruits and vegetable I’d never heard of. I experienced produce that tasted more real than anything I’d experienced before.

Suddenly, a tomato wasn’t just a tomato. An orange could be any number of different things.

After scanning cookbooks in search of the perfect ending to a culinary celebration with my friend Leah of Spicy Salty Sweet, I found Suzanne Goin’s recipe for “Creamsicles” and sugar cookies in Sunday Suppers at Lucques. Before thoroughly reading the recipe, it was easy for me to conceptualize the dessert. I would serve sugar cookies with a bowl of vanilla ice cream, topped with freshly squeezed orange juice. It wasn’t until I actually read the recipe that I realized I was about to enter into uncharted citrus territory.

Continue For an Incredible Deconstructed Creamsicle Recipe »