When Carrots Survive, Get out the Peeler
I thought about the carrots as we were driving away in December for two weeks in Mexico. I thought about the carrots as we were driving home, but then it was Christmas. I thought about the carrots as we were driving away in January for two weeks in Florida. I thought about the carrots as we drove back into the driveway, which was now covered in two feet of ice and snow. C’est la vie, carrots.
But oh how wrong I was. In March, when I lamented the carrots molding away in the ground since summer, my friend and master gardener Sandy said,, “Oh, they’re fine. Go dig them up. They’ll be really sweet.”
Boy, was she right. As I washed off all the mud from a colander full of surplus survivor carrots, I thought they needed to be the star of something. I remembered the cafeteria ladies plopping spoonfuls of carrot and raisin salad onto our trays, the Miracle Whip oozing out. Surely I could do better by these lively tri-color carrots.
And I did.
Survivor Carrot Salad
Six carrots of any and all colors
⅔ cup golden raisins
½ cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons sesame tahini
1 teaspoon garam masala
½ teaspoon salt
Juice and zest of one lemon or 3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
2 tablespoons sugar
Peal and grate the carrots. Toss in the raisins. Mix all other ingredients and whisk with a fork and pour over raisins and carrots. Refrigerate until ready to serve. Great side with burgers or sandwiches.
Two passions: food, words. Some days, it’s a tug of war, some days, a peaceful coexistence.
Best day ever? Create it, cook it, eat it, write about it. I sold my restaurant, Nora’s Table, in 2015, and now I can be possessed by anything in the long day that I choose: writing 400 words, creating the next menu for the Chefs Collective at Ruby June Inn, teaching a cooking class at Jacob Williams Winery, or tromping through the fields with farmer Laurel Bouret.
A rainy afternoon with a foundational cookbook, such as Marlene Mater’s fabulous “Allepo Cookbook” or Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn’s “Charcuterie” can feed my spirit and spark my creative power. So can reading Maggie Shipstead, Michael Chabon or Alison Kraus.
I live in Hood River, Oregon, with Stuart, also known as the Happy Meal Man. In other words, all I can desire. And then there’s Satchel, our six-year old Idaho Shag who is simply the world’s best dog. We run together, and sometimes, we even let Stu join us.
Our oldest daughter Annie and grandson Levi live in Eugene, Oregon. Annie is cooking in restaurants, like her Mom. Son Max and his wife Hannah and our granddaughter Shiloh are in Portland, where he is a school principal. It’s a good tribe, all the way around.
