OIL & VINEGAR (2024)

There it sits before you, in all its jumbled glory: the salad.

Maybe it's the standard American issue: lettuce, celery and cukes. Maybe it's your basic slaw. Do olives hide between the leaves? Avocado? Cold chicken? Perhaps you're knee-deep in mesclun mix, aswim in sprouts, up to your elbows in ripe tomatoes. Whatever fills the bowl, the question now is: How do you dress this baby?

Sure, anyone can douse the greens. But how do you make it taste good?

In the moment of truth, with the salad before them, many people will despair and reach for the bottle of ranch or French in the fridge. At least it's dependable. But dressing a salad by hand is easy and healthful, and it satisfies all your childhood urges to play with your food.

The truth is that you can craft a better salad than Kraft; your own can be better than Newman's Own. All you need is oil, vinegar, salt and pepper and a knack for the task. You don't even have to prepare anything. With no prior thought, you can dress a salad as well as it's ever been dressed. Venturing Out of the Hidden Valley

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It's no small responsibility to dress a salad. After all, it's the dressing's role to bring the salad's contents together, to unite them into a single whole, a unified dish. And it must pull this off without drawing undue attention to itself. When you taste a well-dressed salad, you should think not "Great dressing" but "Great salad." The dressing must disappear behind its work. It should coat but not distract; promote but not dazzle. A good dressing will take a salad of disparate parts and bind them together with its particular zest and zing.

But don't let this burden you. It's still just oil and vinegar, after all, even though we call it vinaigrette. What Is a Vinaigrette?

A vinaigrette is technically any sauce that contains oil and vinegar. The classification started with the great 19th-century chef Antonin Careme, who decided there were five basic "mother" sauces. Oil and vinegar was one of them. He called it a vinaigrette.

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A vinaigrette doesn't have to go on a salad. You'll find vinaigrettes used to marinate meats, fish and poultry. In my book, lemon juice and olive oil is still a vinaigrette, though I'm unsure what Careme would say.

The acid in the vinegar serves to break down food. It tenderizes meat and breaks down the cellulose in vegetables (this is why a dressed salad gets soggy). The fat in the oil acts as a flavor conductor on the tongue, in a sense amplifying taste. Together, they make a sauce that's greater than the sum of its parts. The Zen of Dressing a Salad

Dressing a salad is a physical act. Like all physical acts, whether it's parallel-parking a car or shuffling cards, you must get the hang of it. It takes practice. It's helpful if you can watch someone who knows; in lieu of that, you can just learn from your own mistakes.

The instructions below are made to be forgotten, abandoned as soon as you get the feel of the task. Dressing a salad with measuring cup in hand is like riding a bike with training wheels. Still, you've got to start somewhere. A real vinaigrette is a moment of inspiration, a dynamic and unrepeatable move, a fleeting breakthrough. It's a matter of eye, of weight, of hand.

It isn't hard. But at the same time, it isn't easy. In truth, there's something ineffable about the act; its success can't be wholly prescribed. I can't fully explain why some people dress a salad well while others, using the very same oil and vinegar, doing more or less the same thing, cannot. Still, we must persevere in our attempt to communicate that which cannot be communicated. Why? Salads must be dressed.

If the truly transcendent salad dressing can't be described, at least the ridiculously bad one can be avoided with these tips.

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Oil the Way. You have a fair bit of latitude in choosing your vinegar (see sidebar: Choosing a Vinegar). With oil, you have two basic choices: olive or canola. Extra-virgin olive oil, the first cold pressing of the fresh olive, holds the most flavor. If you want something mild, use either a light olive oil or else canola, which is nearly tasteless.

Dress Just Before Eating. This refers to the salad. Dress yourself whenever you like. The acids in the vinegar, though, begin to break down the vegetables as soon as the two make contact. Lettuce is particularly vulnerable.

First Oil, Then Vinegar. It's somewhat akin to the old Far Side adage, "First Pants, Then Shoes." If you add the vinegar first, the oil slides off and ends up in a puddle at the bottom of the bowl, instead of coating every leaf.

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3 to 1. This is the standard ratio of oil to vinegar: three parts oil to one part vinegar. This works for most vinegars. Stick with this until inspiration tells you otherwise. Seasoned vinegars, which have sugar added, often need no oil. Balsamic vinegar, which naturally contains a bit of sugar, can get by with less oil, or none for the purists.

The Rule of Thumb. It's important to establish a psychic connection with your salad. The best way to do this is to use your hands. Touch the salad. Get its feel. Once you've got a sense of appropriate quantity, you can use your thumb to regulate the flow of oil and vinegar. At least I do. And once the thing is dressed, toss it with your hands. Every good chef does. There's no better way to make sure that every leaf and chunk is properly dressed.

Dress to Kill. Dressing a salad requires technique, flair, daring. A salad can sense fear like a dog. Take control right from the start. Squirt that olive oil with gusto. Dust the salt with zeal. The first salad you dress may not come out perfectly, but at least you'll feel good about yourself. A Walk-Through

So let's pick up where we left off:

1. Apply the oil. Remember three to one. If you're dressing a salad for four, start with 1/4 cup of oil. If it looks like too little, add more. If you want to forgo measurements (and this is the eventual goal), shake it out gently in a slow stream over the salad. Remember to use the thumb (to regulate the flow).

2. Apply the vinegar. First choose your vinegar (see sidebar: Choosing a Vinegar). Then shake it out onto the salad. Approximate 1/3 of the amount of oil you put on, unless you're using balsamic vinegar, in which case you can use slightly more vinegar and slightly less oil.

3. Salt and Pepper. These are the only two spices you need. Putting on sufficient salt is important. Sprinkle it liberally. For a large salad, a 1/2 teaspoon should be enough. Same for the pepper.

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4. Toss. Take your gloves off. Scrub your hands like a surgeon. Then get them deep in there. Be sure the dressing is well distributed.

5. Salt and Pepper Again. I know this seems insane, but it helps. Sprinkle another pinch. This way it really gets all over everything.

6. Toss Again. Just when you thought things were over.

7. Serve. Wash hands again, find a lovely pair of salad tongs and serve up the salad in a civilized manner.

There you have it. This will provide a well-dressed salad. People will ask you what you did. Tell them you did something fancy and complicated. Oh, and one last thing:

8. Learn From Your Mistakes. If the whole thing comes out too tart, put in less vinegar next time. If it looks like soup at the bottom of the bowl when you're done, you added too much of everything. Variations on a Theme

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Use lemon instead of vinegar. Or lime. Or mix fresh lemon juice in with your vinegar to give it a pleasant citrus zip.

Infuse your vinegar. A great way to vary the flavors of your vinegar, and enhance the flavor of your salad, is to stick the stalk of a fresh herb into your bottle. Tarragon is a popular choice, and basil works well, as does just about any other herb you like. Jam the bottle with cut jalapeno chili peppers if you like spicy vinegar (watch out when you get to the bottom of the bottle, though: The longer it steeps, the more sizzling it becomes). Putting in a few cloves of garlic is also nice.

Add other things. Fish paste, miso paste or crumbled cheeses can make great additions to a dressing and can help make a dressing, and the salad it covers, more distinctive. To add them, either whisk them into the vinegar beforehand, or do them in a blender, adding the oil slowly.

This sort of spontaneous tossing I've described is really the most fun you can have with a salad. If you're tired of the standard oil-and-vinegar-on-the-fly, though, then pull out your blender and give these simple recipes a try. Parmesan and Jalapeno Vinaigrette (Makes 1 1/4 cups)

Though this calls for an entire jalapeno, it is mysteriously not very spicy. What spice there is burns slowly, a reminder of what you've eaten once the salad bowl stands empty. Serve this on a bed of romaine with scallions, tomatoes, red pepper, etc. (Don't touch your eyes after chopping the jalapeno.)

4 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese

1 whole jalapeno chili pepper, seeded and chopped

1/4 cup malt vinegar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

3/4 cup canola oil

Throw the cheese, jalapeno, vinegar, salt and pepper into the blender. Blend until the jalapeno is shredded. Then, with the blender on high, drizzle the oil in slowly, until the dressing begins to thicken.

Per tablespoon: 80 calories, 1 gm protein, trace carbohydrates, 9 gm fat, 1 mg cholesterol, 1 gm saturated fat, 51 mg sodium, trace dietary fiber Basil-Avocado Vinaigrette (Makes about 1 1/4 cups)

This turns into a brilliant green glop that you spoon onto a salad, and then must mix with your fingers to coat every leaf. It's better the second day, after the garlic has had a chance to meld.

This also makes a pleasant dip--people will think it's guacamole.

1 cup chopped fresh basil leaves

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 ripe avocado

Juice of 1 lemon 2/3 cup canola oil

Salt and pepper to taste

Combine the basil, garlic, avocado and lemon juice in a blender. Blend until the basil and avocado are liquefied. With blender on high, drizzle in the oil slowly and pulse until the dressing is well blended and emulsified. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Per tablespoon: 88 calories, trace protein, trace carbohydrates, 10 gm fat, 0 mg cholesterol, 1 gm saturated fat, 54 mg sodium, 1 gm dietary fiber Miso Vinaigrette (Makes about 3/4 cup)

1/4 cup light miso (soybean paste)

1/4 cup canola oil

2 tablespoons rice-wine vinegar

1 tablespoon honey, or less to taste

Dash of black pepper

Combine all ingredients in blender and blend until smooth. (It turns into a rich, nutty-flavored paste to spoon onto your salad.)

Per tablespoon: 57 calories, 1 gm protein, 3 gm carbohydrates, 5 gm fat, 0 mg cholesterol, trace saturated fat, 209 mg sodium, trace dietary fiber Choosing a Vinegar

An important first step before dressing a salad is to consider vinegars. Which works best?

But first a bit of history. First came grape juice, then came wine, then came vinegar. The word "vinegar" comes from vin aigre, French for sour wine. It's made by a certain bacterium that lives in the air and consumes alcohol. The by-product of their little drinking binge is cellulose, which gathers in a film on top (and is long gone by the time you buy it), and acetic acid, which gives vinegar its tartness. Undiluted acetic acid will peel the paint from your house and eat holes in your salad bowls. That's why it's always diluted to around 5 percent for domestic and culinary use.

There are as many different kinds of vinegar as there are forms of alcohol. In France, you'll find wine vinegars. In Northern Europe, where beer is the drink of choice, you'll find malt vinegar. In Japan, it's rice-wine vinegar, and cider vinegar in the U.S.

Distilled (or White) Vinegar: This is the pure stuff, made from grain alcohol. It has very little character or subtlety and is generally sold by the gallon. If it's all you have, you can improve it by soaking herbs, onions or garlic in it for several days. When plain, it should be used only in a pinch. Save it for pickling, or for scouring the tub.

White-Wine Vinegar: This comes from anywhere people make white wine. Its bright, light flavor makes it a fine dressing. The flavor of the vinegar comes through first, and the sour grassiness of white wine lingers after. This is good for a salad with some other dominant flavor, such as a fish paste or a strong cheese. This stuff varies almost as much as wine itself, and generally you get what you pay for. Champagne Vinegar: A variation made from Champagne grapes. Everything above applies, but it's crisper, less grassy. No fizz.

Red-Wine Vinegar: I like this stuff a little better than the white. It's a little warmer on the tongue, slightly more complex than its white sibling, but still simple. Not a big personality in the bowl, but without white-wine vinegar's sourness. Keep it around.

Sherry Vinegar: This stuff is made from sherry, so it's got sherry's boozy, woody complexity. It comes from Spain and Portugal, for the most part, where they make sherry. Generally considered fancy.

Apple Cider Vinegar: This North American favorite, much utilized by early and late colonists, is second only to distilled vinegar in bang for your buck. It's made from hard cider and, as you might expect, bears traces of its fruity origins. It's great for pickling and canning, and it goes well on a salad that incorporate fruit. A top choice for slaw.

Balsamic Vinegar: The king of vinegars. A real breakthrough. It's made in and around Modena, Italy, from the unfermented juice of the white Trebbiano grape that is boiled down to a sweet, fruity syrup, then aged in various wooden barrels. The aging gives it both its dark color and its rich, deep flavor. Balsamic vinegars range from the industrially processed stuff you can buy at the supermarket (technically not a true balsamic vinegar but a balsamic-vinegar condiment), all the way to the traditional small-batch version, which is aged 15 or 20 years (or 100) and costs upward of 50 bucks an ounce. The most valuable ones can't even be bought, only received as a gift from a Modenese family. It can work wonders on a salad, but don't ever try to scrub the tub with it.

Malt Vinegar: Made from fermented malted barley, or unhopped beer, whichever you choose to call it, malt vinegar tends to come from beer-oriented places. The British shake it onto their beloved fish and chips. It's great on salads, it doesn't have the strong sourness of wine vinegars, and it blends very well.

Rice-Wine Vinegar: Originating in Japan and places Asian, this is a fine, simple, straightforward vinegar, indispensable for Japanese dishes such as sushi and sunomono. Seasoned rice-wine vinegar is the natural stuff made milder and more pleasant by the addition of sugar and salt. It's the real gem. Seasoned rice-wine vinegar doesn't usually need oil to make a salad taste good, so it's good if you're trying to avoid consuming unnecessary fat. Terrific stuff.

Cane Vinegar: Also Asian in origin, this vinegar is made from sugar cane and is used in Filipino and other Southeast Asian cooking. Used in various meat dishes, it's fairly harsh on salads. Not recommended. Mouncey Ferguson is a freelance writer based in San Francisco.

OIL & VINEGAR (2024)
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