Now more than any other time of the year, conscience battles with comfort.
Holiday eating and drinking excesses might call for restraint and a healthier reorientation, though one objection comes to mind: it is still deep winter.
Snow has finally fallen, and temperatures have dropped below freezing. Now hardly feels like the ideal time for the Master Cleanse.
Somewhere between a Spartan diet and self-indulgence, there is a vast land of possibilities.
Try salads. As I discovered recently in the cookbook “Salmagundi: A Celebration of Salads From Around the World” by Sally Butcher, salads are a world unto themselves. They’re old as time itself (OK not really, but at least old as the Romans, according to Butcher) and as diverse as the cultures on earth.
Butcher, who runs the Persian food store Persepolis in London, is an enthusiastic, indefatigable cook and author. Her joy is contagious and picking up one of her cookbooks is as much laughter therapy as it inspiration for cooking.
“Salad, you see, is a state of mind,” she writes. “It’s all about finding ingredients that will play nicely together in one bowl. It’s about having a feel for things that work, and the willingness to let your imagination travel.”
The title of her book, “Salmagundi”, is an expression from 17th century England referring to a salad dish containing just about everything under the sun.
There are delicate salads like Green Pea and Sorrel Salad, to salads that would better please a carnivore, like Duck Salad with Puy Lentils, Snow Peas, and Kiwi Chutney. But there is always a balance (think Tarragon Salad with Southern Fried Chicken).
Recipes from all corners of the globe are featured, like Gado Gado Indonesian Peanut Salad, or Japanese Deep-Fried Eggplant Gomaae with Black Sesame Dressing.
Butcher’s definition of salad is all-encompassing, like an embrace. It makes room for all persuasions. So whether you’re digging into her Beet, Ginger, and Mango Salad, or Prune and Bacon Salad, you can contentedly say: “I’m just having a salad.”
