A Good Appetite
Resistance Is Futile, Sweet Pea
Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times
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LinkedinDiggFacebookMixxMySpaceYahoo! BuzzPermalinkBy MELISSA CLARK
Published: June 12, 2009
THERE’S a reason pea salad is usually slathered in mayonnaise. Just try to get those tiny rolling orbs to stay on your fork without it.
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Recipe: Sugar Snap Pea Salad With Radishes, Mint and Ricotta Salata (June 17, 2009) With a less adhesive dressing, pea salad should be finger food, especially if you happen to have plump peas straight from the farmers’ market that you don’t want to cook. Raw sweet peas defy most forks.
That’s why when it comes to pea salads, I choose sugar snaps. They have the same bright sweetness as shelled peas but, eaten pod and all (no shucking required), they’re easier to grab.
Even so, despite my best intentions when sugar snap pea season rolls around, I don’t actually end up making many salads. No matter how large a sack I fill at the farmers’ market, I always manage to nibble my way through it before any peas have a chance to meet the knife.
But I recently devoured a sugar snap pea and radish salad at Locanda Verde, a new restaurant in TriBeCa, that was so succulent and sprightly that I became more determined than ever to make sure my next haul was large enough to accommodate both prodigious snacking and salad.
Inspired, I also picked up some radishes, which have a gentle bitterness that pairs well with the crisp sugariness of the peas.
Locanda Verde’s chef, Andrew Carmellini, dressed his salad with two pestos, a Sicilian one made from sun-dried tomatoes, almonds and olive oil, and a regular basil pesto.
I thought about trying to recreate Mr. Carmellini’s dish, liking the idea of those Sicilian flavors. But because I didn’t have any sun-dried tomatoes and wasn’t in the mood to run back out to the market, I decided to get as close to Sicily as I could with the ingredients I had on hand.
There was plenty of mint in the pots on the deck. I wasn’t sure whether mint is used in Sicily, but mint and peas is a classic combination. So I went with it, tossing the picked leaves into the bowl with the sliced peas and radishes.
Next I thought about adding a rich, decadent element to keep the salad from veering into abstemious territory. The nuts and good olive oil in Mr. Carmellini’s salad served that same purpose.
I chose crumbles of pale ricotta salata. Mixed into the dressing, ricotta salata, which is pressed and salted ricotta, breaks down slightly, adding a creamy texture along with its milky cheese tang.
I also added garlic and lemon because I thought they should be present in any dish edging its way toward the Mediterranean.
I mixed everything together and took a big bite. It was nothing like the pristine salad I ate at the restaurant, but it was sweet, salty, creamy and fresh tasting in its own way.
And best of all, the peas stayed on the fork.
Resistance Is Futile, Sweet Pea
Andrew Scrivani for The New York Times
Sign in to Recommend
Sign In to E-Mail
Reprints
ShareClose
LinkedinDiggFacebookMixxMySpaceYahoo! BuzzPermalinkBy MELISSA CLARK
Published: June 12, 2009
THERE’S a reason pea salad is usually slathered in mayonnaise. Just try to get those tiny rolling orbs to stay on your fork without it.
Skip to next paragraph
Related
Recipe: Sugar Snap Pea Salad With Radishes, Mint and Ricotta Salata (June 17, 2009) With a less adhesive dressing, pea salad should be finger food, especially if you happen to have plump peas straight from the farmers’ market that you don’t want to cook. Raw sweet peas defy most forks.
That’s why when it comes to pea salads, I choose sugar snaps. They have the same bright sweetness as shelled peas but, eaten pod and all (no shucking required), they’re easier to grab.
Even so, despite my best intentions when sugar snap pea season rolls around, I don’t actually end up making many salads. No matter how large a sack I fill at the farmers’ market, I always manage to nibble my way through it before any peas have a chance to meet the knife.
But I recently devoured a sugar snap pea and radish salad at Locanda Verde, a new restaurant in TriBeCa, that was so succulent and sprightly that I became more determined than ever to make sure my next haul was large enough to accommodate both prodigious snacking and salad.
Inspired, I also picked up some radishes, which have a gentle bitterness that pairs well with the crisp sugariness of the peas.
Locanda Verde’s chef, Andrew Carmellini, dressed his salad with two pestos, a Sicilian one made from sun-dried tomatoes, almonds and olive oil, and a regular basil pesto.
I thought about trying to recreate Mr. Carmellini’s dish, liking the idea of those Sicilian flavors. But because I didn’t have any sun-dried tomatoes and wasn’t in the mood to run back out to the market, I decided to get as close to Sicily as I could with the ingredients I had on hand.
There was plenty of mint in the pots on the deck. I wasn’t sure whether mint is used in Sicily, but mint and peas is a classic combination. So I went with it, tossing the picked leaves into the bowl with the sliced peas and radishes.
Next I thought about adding a rich, decadent element to keep the salad from veering into abstemious territory. The nuts and good olive oil in Mr. Carmellini’s salad served that same purpose.
I chose crumbles of pale ricotta salata. Mixed into the dressing, ricotta salata, which is pressed and salted ricotta, breaks down slightly, adding a creamy texture along with its milky cheese tang.
I also added garlic and lemon because I thought they should be present in any dish edging its way toward the Mediterranean.
I mixed everything together and took a big bite. It was nothing like the pristine salad I ate at the restaurant, but it was sweet, salty, creamy and fresh tasting in its own way.
And best of all, the peas stayed on the fork.
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