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The Last of the Winter Salads

by белый

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Where to Eat: New York City

It’s not too late to embrace the bitter and the sweet of chicories and citrus.

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I’m not someone who usually seeks out salads in my daily life, mostly because I fear they won’t be filling enough and, in part, because I think the greens that fuel the salad industrial complex — romaine, little gem, iceberg, subpar arugula — are so, so boring.

But when I’m playing Nikita the Restaurant Writer, I always order a salad. This is usually my last chance to enjoy something “light” before the heaviness of the rest of the meal falls on me like a ton of delicious, buttery bricks. Which brings me to my point: In the course of my recent restaurant outings, I felt moved to declare that the best salads are winter salads.

These depend on chicories, arriving in hues of purple, red, pink, green and yellow, and are dressed to the gods with citrus, vinaigrettes, nuts and any number of accouterments. A winter salad on its worst day is better than any Caesar or wedge on its best. So, I invite you to savor the last of the winter salads while there’s still time — or at least seek out the most interesting salads possible the next time you’re cosplaying a restaurant writer.

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Salads should have crunch

The first winter salad that left a lasting impression on me came from the kitchen at Pitt’s, Jeremy Salamon’s three-month-old restaurant in Red Hook. Here, the salad is your last stop on the road to Sleepytown, because the menu is meat-forward and Southern-leaning (fried Saltines and gouda pimento cheese, pork chops, lamb rumps and the world’s best pancake soufflé).

The confetti salad ($17) is a tasty array of purple and yellow-green endive topped with a “confetti” of diced green apples, Cheddar, biting red onions and pickled peppers tossed with a bracing vinaigrette. But the best part is the crunch of the roasted peanuts showered on the salad, a stunning reminder of the power of a toasty legume. It’s everything a salad should be and then some.

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