Iceberg Salad

Mom recently got the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook out of the library. I might need to buy this book. I sort of took it home the night she brought it home and have never given it back. I am holding it hostage. It isn't my library card that is running up the penny-a-day overdue fine, after all. Clover introduced me to Smitten Kitchen, like a good sister should, several years ago over Smitten Kitchen's pizza dough and sauce recipe. I have since used the pizza dough recipe quite often and have occasionally stumbled across a recipe of hers online. I am not a big blog follower, so this book was my first real immersion into Smitten Kitchen's recipes. The genius of this woman!

I think Justin might actually be in love with Deb, the woman who is smitten kitchen. She thinks kale is over used. She loves pasta and hates any sort of substitute. She isn't into fish. She makes a lot of pizza. And to top it all off, she loves iceberg lettuce. Iceberg is Justin's favorite lettuce. He and my Dad comisserate over the romaine, spring mixes, and artisian lettuces that usually appear in my salads. I am not sure why I don't use iceberg, I just don't. I think I was swayed by all the "Darker green is healthier" advice of the past decade. But then I saw this recipe and thought how much my dear and darling husband would love this salad. And he does. He says he would have a hard time choosing between this salad and pizza. Which is pretty much a declaration of love and devotion from Justin. And to tell the truth, it makes a nice break from romaine and softer lettuces that might be easier eaten with a spoon than stabbed with a fork.

And now moving tangentially, a poem.

"The Iceberg Theory"

Gerald Locklin

all the food critics hate iceberg lettuce.
you'd think romaine was descended from
orpheus's laurel wreath,
you'd think raw spinach had all the nutritional
benefits attributed to it by popeye,
not to mention aesthetic subtleties worthy of
verlaine and debussy.
they'll even salivate over chopped red cabbage
just to disparage poor old mr. iceberg lettuce.

i guess the problem is
it's just too common for them.
it doesn't matter that it tastes good,
has a satisfying crunchy texture,
holds its freshness,
and has crevices for the dressing,
whereas the darker, leafier varieties
are often bitter, gritty, and flat.
it just isn't different enough, and
it's too stinking* american.

of course a critic has to criticize;
a critic has to have something to say.
perhaps that's why literary critics
purport to find interesting
so much contemporary poetry
that just bores the stuffing* out of me.

at any rate, i really enjoy a salad
with plenty of chunky iceberg lettuce,
the more the merrier,
drenched in an italian or roquefort dressing.
and the poems i enjoy are those i don't have
to pretend that i'm enjoying.

*Alrighty, I am a prude. I changed the swear words here to un-swear words. Noted by the italics.

 But this poem, found in Garrison Keillor's Good Poems, has always made me laugh. It is true. People go for obscurities and trends, eating reindeer moss and unpronounceable things that I couldn't find in a 50 mile radius of my hometown. And I fall victim to this too. As demonstrated by not using iceberg for a decade. All those beautiful salads lost....

Now to get back to the main point here, a recipe! As usual, I didn't follow the recipe too closely. I mean it is a salad. You just throw things together. But for continuities sake, I will give it to you as smitten kitchen saw fit to write it.

Iceberg Stack with blue cheese and radishes

Dressing
1/2 cup well shaken buttermilk
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1 small garlic clove, minced
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 tsp freshly ground pepper

Mix together.

Iceberg Stack
4 ounces pancetta or bacon
1 stalk celery
1/3 cup radishes
1 pound head of iceberg lettuce, trimmed, cored and sliced into 1 inch thick rounds
1/2 cup firm blue cheese, crumbled
1/4 cup chopped fresh chives

Layer a slice of lettuce with toppings and drizzle with dressing.

Now that I have got that off my chest, I will tell you what we do. I love this dressing. But Justin has a weird fascination with ranch dressing, so he uses that. Whatever vegetables are handy and appealing are thrown in. Bacon is crisped, cheddar is grated.

It isn't as stylish as radishes, blue cheese, and pancetta, but all the same, it is a lovely salad.