As a follow up to my rant about children, and specifically teenagers, being home and idle on school holidays, I thought I might share a recipe for an easy salad that has been a staple in our home for years. It has proved to be a lifesaving make-ahead option more than once, particularly during the pandemic when suddenly, overnight, lunch became a problem we were not ready for. Remember those days? We knew that, come July, we would be expected to feed our family twice daily for a couple of months. But in March? When we had to maintain our workload and become our children’s teachers and activity managers, all the while planning meals for what should be cafeteria time? Don’t even get me started on the topic. Suffice it to say that this salad makes a regular appearance on our weeknight dinner menu and is a great lunch solution if you ever need one. It is one of the very few salads that all our kids enjoy, including the five-year old, who is currently going through a remarkably picky phase. And come to think of it, it may be the only recipe I have shared so far, and possibly the only one in my unimaginative repertoire, that is not coming from the New York Times food section or any other online cooking resource. Or from any cookbook, for that matter. Not that I invented it from scratch, either. I am not at that stage yet and may well never be. But I did replicate it from memory, and as far as I know it has not been published on the Internet, up to this very moment. Needless to say, this makes me feel very grown-up, both as a cook and an aspiring blogger.
I had never thought of a name for this humble Brussel sprout salad, but I will call it the Dorset salad, as we sampled it a few years ago in Dorset, Vermont, at a deli whose name I do not remember. I want to say it was the H.N. Williams General Store, where I’m sure we stopped at some point. But it was almost certainly the Dorset Union Store, which appears to be the only deli in town, and sits across the street from the Dorset Inn. I have no recollection of the place, and what it looked like inside. But I am sure we walked there daily from our hotel, and that it was on the village’s main street. I want to say that we stayed at the Dorset Inn. But I’m pretty sure we didn’t, and only had brunch there, with the baby in tow.
As stressful and exhausting as those moments were, I miss them dearly. I’m sure the baby cried that day, and that his siblings were not on their best behavior. Come to think of it, I can picture my husband taking our seven-year-old son out for a walk, as often happens with at least one of our children when we go out to eat as a family. One of them invariably needs to go outside for a few minutes, even the teenagers these days. Nevertheless, I have fond memories of those early meals with a newborn in the car seat, as overwhelming as they might have been in the moment. I remember feeling deeply moved by my babies on these outings, especially when we were traveling. As if, after weeks, or months, of being drowned in my domestic turmoil with no distance and perspective at all, I could finally see them from the outside. As characters in a play almost – the young family out and about, exhausted but happy, with the cute baby making faces in his or her car seat, or bassinet, or whatever means of transportation they were in. And this meal, as well as entire short stay in Dorset, which was planned on a whim and without the proper budget, as we often did things at the time, counts as one of my happiest memories as a new mother.
Our baby then, our third, was four months old, and a remarkably good sleeper. None of our other babies ever slept as much. But this one always gifted us with the longest naps, until he was well into his kindergarten year. We would get three, sometimes almost four hours out of him, and he would still sleep well at night. We called him our bear, and this idiosyncrasy of his was most welcome after two other babies, and toddlers, who were not half as interested in resting. It made being a mother of three a lot easier than it could have been. The same cannot be said of becoming a mother of two, and especially not of becoming a mother of four, which left me almost completely defeated and remains by far the hardest thing I have ever done. But I digress. Suffice it to say that we had a genuinely happy and restful time in Dorset, that summer of 2016. I remember feeling deeply satisfied and peaceful at the time, which was rare enough to merit a mention. It was one of those moments when my children gave me a rush of joy that I could never have experienced in that form, without them. One of those times that make it all worthwhile and help us remember why we are doing this crazy mothering thing in the first place. Maybe because my kids are getting older, and we find ourselves having to think about their future, and worrying about their shortcomings, instead of just enjoying their cuteness. Whatever the reason, I find that it has become harder for me to experience these moments of pure family joy. Which makes this random Dorset memory particularly welcome in these last weeks of winter.
As for the salad itself, it is quite simple and I’m not sure why I remembered this one in particular, out of the many salads I sampled in various delis over my time in the United States. But I really liked it and wrote down its ingredients on my phone right away. I’d like to say it was a cute notebook I carry everywhere with me and use for sudden jottings of inspiring thoughts. But sadly, it was just my iPhone, which had the merit of making it easier not to lose the inspired recipe.
Anyway, below is the recipe, using winter ingredients but reminiscent of a happy summer day in Vermont, a day when motherhood felt joyful and easy.
The Dorset Salad.
Aka Brussel Sprout Salad with Chicken, Apricots and Almonds.
Ingredients
2-3 pounds Brussel sprouts, cleaned, trimmed, and halved.
1 chicken breast.
½ cup dried apricots, diced.
Slivered or sliced almonds, preferably toasted.
White wine vinegar.
Olive oil.
Salt and pepper, to taste.
Instructions
On a cooking sheet or large oven dish, spread the Brussel sprouts, coated with a 3-4 tablespoons of olive oil. Add salt and pepper.
Roast the Brussel sprouts for approximately 40 minutes at 200 °C. I like mine nicely browned and slightly crispy. You can adjust cook time to achieve desired result.
Meanwhile, poach the chicken breast: place it in boiling water, cover the pot and take it off the stove. Leave for about 20 minutes and dice. You can also use leftover roasted chicken if you want to skip this step.
Once the Brussel sprouts have cooled off, mix all ingredients in a bowl. Add vinaigrette, to taste. I find that only a dash of white wine vinegar can be needed, given that the Brussel sprouts have already cooked in olive oil. You don’t want them to be too soggy.
Serve at room temperature.
Comments