I just finished the last of my midterms, which means I have only two exams to go before this long semester is officially done. Not sure how well I did—this professor is prone to trick questions—but I certainly feel better about the material (nuclear chemistry and bonding) than I did about stochiometry and solutions. Phew!
Since I was cramming all day and all last night, it’s only in the last few hours that I was able to read and process all of the awesome comments on yesterday’s quinoa protein bowl post—if you haven’t read them yet, go read them now! There was lots of fascinating discussion. A few follow up points:
OK, enough protein talk. Let’s get to today’s real topic: salad. Last Thursday night, I headed out to Greenpoint for dinner with my friend Rose. This was a big deal for several reasons:
For all of these reasons, dinner with Rose felt like a big treat, and I spent the whole week looking forward to it. In the end, it was even better than I’d hoped it would be, starting with this spectacular view as I crossed the bridge:
Oh how I love this beautiful city.
Rose had promised me a simple repast of hummus and a giant salad. She made good on this promise; when I arrived, I was greeted by a cutting board and a table of fresh produce.
Rose asked me to give her a hand with the prep, and I was glad to. But not until I quizzed her on the salad ingredients. They are:
In no time at all, we were chopping and chatting away.
Rose and I have known each other for six years: we met as young editorial assistants at FSG, all of twenty-two years old. Our friendship had one of those peculiar beginnings wherein we couldn’t really decide whether or not we actually liked each other: we had plenty in common (mutual acquaintances, a love of books, similar jobs, similar taste in fashion, overlapping senses of humor) but our superficial differences seemed to outweigh our common interests, at least for a little while (Rose is a California gal, and I’m NYC to the core; Rose wore flat boots, and I was going through a pointy boot phase; Rose is generally low-key, whereas I tend to be more high-strung).
It’s a good thing that we continued to get to know each other. Today, Rose is one of my dearest friends, and our friendship is one of my sweetest. We admire each other, we console each other, we’re affectionate and expressive with each other, and we always (always) understand each other. No lunch or dinner with Rosie can ever last less than three or four hours, and no time is ever lost in the periods in between.
But the nicest thing about my friendship with Rose is that we never stand on ceremony with each other. Our friendship is relaxed, honest, and plainspoken. For this reason, our salad feast felt apropos. It was a simple dinner, made without fuss or pretention. I was happy that we could throw a quick meal together and enjoy it, rather than waste time and money on dinner reservations or needless cooking. As usual, we were craving the same things: light, bright, fresh food, served up over good conversation.
Today, without my friend, I made the Rosie salad again. Here it is, in single person portions:
The Rosie Salad (Vegan, raw, gluten and soy free)
Serves 1 (Double if you eat with a friend)
1 bag or box mesclun greens or baby spinach
1 bell pepper (yellow and red), chopped
1 tomatoes, chopped
1/2 pack organic button mushrooms, sliced
1/2 cup basil, washed and chopped
1/3 cup mint, washed and chopped
1 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp dijon mustard
salt and pepper to taste
Toss all ingredients together, dress, and toss again.
Just to keep things authentic to Thursday’s meal, I once again paired it with some hummus–made from scratch and still warm–on some sprouted bread:
It’s no fun to eat Rosie’s salad without her, but it is lovely to be reminded of our friendship through food. Lovely, and tasty.
Hope you all give this combination a try soon, and when you do, don’t thank me: thank Rose!