Summer Salads & Sacramento Evenings
As I’ve learned more about food and the role it plays in our lives and families the more I recognize that each of us have a catalog of memories we draw from when we think about our childhood and the dinner table. I’ve talked with many older folks who have clear memories of helping knead and bake the loaves of bread for the day before school or who would go out and help clean the fish or chicken their family was going to consume that evening. My grandpa always used to talk about having to go out hunting in the morning before school to try and bring in some meat for the dinner table that night. My dad talks about helping prepare the summer’s garden produce for canning each year, knowing they’d be eating green beans, peaches and canned tomatoes throughout the winter months to help stretch the grocery dollars. I have relatives who immediately have memories of spaghettios and raviolis from a can because that was what their busy parents were able to get on the table in the mid-80s. We all have certain dishes associated with our childhood but I would also say we all have a feeling about food that comes to mind, maybe almost subconsciously when we think about the meals we were fed as kids.
My mom always says she didn’t know a lot about cooking or preparing family meals when she had kids, but I remember pretty well balanced dinners as a young child. I remember a mixture of kid friendly dinners such as hot dogs with baked beans and canned corn and I also remember meals that were a more traditional chicken, starch and vegetable combination. But as I think back to the dishes I most associate with my mom it’s the dishes I think she came to be known for as I was an adolescent—her amazing salad side dishes. Growing up in the Sacramento valley with an amazing backyard, we did a lot of summer entertaining. It would stay light well into the evening and the heat of the day would begin to diminish as the breezes arrived and the sun began to set. We were forever firing up the grill and having other folks join us for burgers, brats, steaks, or BBQ chicken—families from the neighborhoods we’d lived in over the years, extended family members who had come for a visit, friends from church or colleagues of my dad’s. I loved watching my parents host others—we had people into our home year round. My dad would mix drinks, my mom would set out an appetizer and the grill would be fired up. Music would be playing in the background and coolers of iced drinks would be set out on the patio. My mom is a fantastic grill-master but what always stands out to me when I think back on these gatherings isn’t the main dish. It was her side dishes. She is a master at rounding out a meal to include something everyone would like. There was always a fruit salad with fresh summer melons and berries. Her pasta salad with an Italian balsamic vinaigrette often made an appearance and always some type of green salad—a broccoli salad, a pea salad, her spinach salad or a traditional green salad—something full of veggies. She’d work all morning chopping and mixing, often roping my sister and I into slicing cantaloupe or dicing onions and then the salads would chill in the fridge throughout the rest of the day, only needing to be pulled out when it was time to eat. I wouldn’t say anything was exceptionally fancy—often these side dishes were loaded onto paper plates alongside a couple chicken drumsticks—but as soon as it’s summer and we break out the grill for the first time I begin craving mom’s summer side dishes. I’m transported back to nights around the table in the gazebo with the pool lights illuminated behind me, polishing off hot dogs and ice cream cones with whatever other kids had come along, the adults sipping blended margaritas my dad would have mixed up. We’d only head inside clearing tables when the breeze grew too cool. I loved these leisurely meals with friends and family gathered around patio tables and folding tables. I loved feeling like there was no rush. It was summer, there was no school the next day. There was plenty of time for conversation, second helpings, and dessert.
When I think about meals eaten at my grandma’s home they involved more baking dishes and 9x13 pans of casseroles—which were delicious too. But when I think about the stand out meals I’ve enjoyed around my own parent’s table over the years I immediately think of the outside tables, plastic non-breakable drink ware, fresh vegetables, the smell of the bbq, the sound of the waterfall in the pool, ice cream cones and salads. Lots and lots of salads. The recipe I am sharing today is literally called That Good Salad and it's a recipe my cousins and I know well. Mom used to make this whenever we'd have a holiday gathering at our home for our family and no matter how much she'd make there were never leftovers. I have a distinct memory of her having made three HUGE serving bowls full of this salad one year. She'd put two on the "adult" table and one on our "kids" table for my teenage cousins, sister and I. We inhaled our bowl and took turns sneaking into the dining room trying to steal the other salad bowls off the grown up table. Arm wrestling for the last serving almost took place. When she makes it now, you can guarantee my sister and I will get out of doing dishes that night because we'll be still sitting at the table, giant bowl between us, eating the last of it straight out of the serving dish long after everyone else has left the table. It really is that good of a salad!
3/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 cloves of minced garlic
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
2 bunches romaine lettuce, torn
2 cups chopped tomato
1 cup (4 ounces) shredded Swiss cheese
2/3 cup slivered almonds
1/2 cup grated parmesean cheese
8 bacon strips cooked and crumbled
1 cup caesar salad croutons
In a jar with a tight fitting lid, combine oil, lemon juice, garlic, salt and pepper, cover and shake well. Chill. In a bowl toss the lettuce, tomatoes, swiss cheese, almonds, parmesean and bacon. Shake dressing and pour over salad and toss. Add croutons and serve immediately.
