Celery & Fennel Salad, Cantaloupe & Arugula Salad, and a Baked Potato Bar by Alison Roman

“IT’S THE FI-NAL SAL-LAAAAADS!” (And some baked potatoes!) 

The ones I waited longest to enjoy. Eating these two salads revealed two new discoveries: 1) Hard blue cheese actually isn’t so bad. 2) Black olives are the most inferior kind of olive. Those two ingredients are the sole reasons I waited so long to make these salads. They also confirmed one fact that I already knew by heart: 1) olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper are all you need to dress a fantastic salad. 

I just spent the last few days celebrating a dear college friend who’s getting married soon. A small group of us drove or flew to Sawyer, Michigan where several inches of snow and a cozy cabin by Lake Michigan awaited. Weekends like these remind me just how blessed by community I am. I’ve been gifted friendships with some of the most authentic, kind, goofy, thoughtful women. Perhaps what’s most impressive about them is that they are the same kind of people in friendship as they are in the world every day, towards friends and strangers alike. We don’t see one another more than maybe once a year, which makes our time together all the richer. 

Those who flew, came in through Chicago airports, so they needed a ride to the cabin and back. We had some time to spend before their flights home, so I decided to involve them in making three of my final six recipes for a fancier-than-usual lunch. 

We gathered around my kitchen island and assumed our positions…

Megan: She owns Dining In, and thus has cooked a good number of Alison’s recipes herself. So she took charge of making Alison’s Skillet Chicken with Crushed Olives and Sumac. We’ve both made this several times in the last year because it’s that good. (It’s also the recipe used for the cover of the book). 

Molly: Standing at the corner of the counter, she expertly sliced and seeded a cantaloupe into half-inch thick rounds, then removed the outer skin. Alison says nothing about removing the rind, but we figured it’d be easier to eat that way (duh). Molly also took charge of thinly slicing the celery stalks — like a boss. 

Anne: Standing in the middle, Anne eagerly volunteered to stab the russet potatoes all over with a fork to prep them for the oven. Post-oil, she sprinkled them with salt and pepper. She helped Molly remove the cantaloupe rinds. She coarsely chopped the walnuts and pistachios. She tossed the cantaloupe and arugula together and squeezed a whole lemon all over it. She topped the bowl with the chopped black olives and a handful of chopped chives. 

Caroline: God bless her. At the far end of the counter, she oiled the potatoes by hand. After, she expertly sliced a fennel bulb into thin strips and a shallot into thin rings. She tossed the celery, fennel, lemon juice, shallot, toasted nuts, salt, pepper, and olive oil together. She crumbled the hard blue cheese on top and sprinkled the bowl with celery leaves. Anne and Molly helped with the celery leaves too. She finely chopped the black olives (I used a tiny can of pitted ones from Whole Foods.) 

Yours truly: I played quarterback -- giving each teammate instructions at regular intervals. My few tasks included toasting the nuts in a skillet (I didn’t have enough walnuts to fill half a cup so I added pistachio meats into the mix— a great call), testing each dish and adding salt and pepper to taste, and setting out the baked potato toppings - sour cream, Greek yogurt, butter, flaky salt, pepper, and chopped chives. 

This meal obviously consisted of dishes chosen by necessity. I didn’t consider a cantaloupe and black olive salad to be the first choice pairing for a baked potato bar. But much to my surprise, all four dishes felt surprisingly cohesive as a meal, with the celery and fennel salad as the strongest outlier.

Someone recently asked me what my favorite part has been about this project. My answer? The people I enjoyed the meals with. Every dish created an opportunity to invite people into my home, or bring the food to them, and commune together. Share an experience, talk about what we’re eating, the flavors we’re tasting. A chance to encourage and nourish the people I love. Yes, that is what brings me the most joy. 

221, 222, and 223 recipes cooked, 2 to go.

Quick Weeknight Fish Stew with Olives by Alison Roman

“Are there any recipes you’re really not looking forward to making?” - at least 100 people 

“Yeah, there’s this fish stew recipe with olives.” - me 

(360 days later)

“Really, you’re gonna let a stew stand between you and accomplishing your goal? Suck it up.” - this project 
“........................................... Fine.” - me 

the makings of a good broth

If I sound like a broken record, I’m sorry. But I have to tell the truth! Once again, this stew was surprisingly better than I thought it would be. Will I make it again? Probably not. But at least I didn’t suffer while eating it. (If you’re new to the blog, please know that if you love seafood stew, you’ll probably love this — seafood stew just ain’t my thing.) 

What I liked most was the tomato-based broth. I chose to use a ripe, medium-sized tomato instead of a can of diced tomatoes (Alison gives us the option). Fresh tomato was definitely the way to go. It gave a subtler tomato taste and color to the stew than canned would have, which I found to be just enough to brighten things up. The broth also contains toasted shallot rings and garlic slices, reduced white wine, chili flakes, bay leaves, and water. Just reading that ingredient list tells you it’s got to be a solid broth base. 

The seafood part, now that’s where I falter. The recipe calls for cod (which we’ve established tastes too fishy), mussels (my first time buying my own mussels!), and shrimp (yes, more shrimp). Mussels are cooked first using the same method as you’d use with clams — nestling them in hot liquid and covering your pot with a lid to create steam. Within five or so minutes, those babies were opened. Cod and shrimp also need time to cook in the broth with the lid on, which took only another six minutes. 

The olives and herbs really brought everything together. I opted for crushed Castelvetrano olives over black olives for their obviously superior flavor. Finely chopped parsley and dill added an element of freshness and vibrant color that really helped with appetite appeal. I made a half-recipe and ate about a fourth of it. Jordan had a few bites too, but we got no where near to finishing it. 

As far as the recipe title goes, this recipe is relatively “quick” when it comes to stews, but it still takes a good bit of ingredient preparation and comes together in about 45 minutes. I guess it all depends on your definition of “quick.” 

Thank God that’s over with. 

220 recipes cooked, 5 to go.

Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb with Spicy Fennel and Sumac By Alison Roman

This past Monday I cooked a whole leg of lamb for 8 people. I’d been nervously anticipating this meal for months. From my first spin through Nothing Fancy, the sight of this recipe — Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb, totally intimidated me. I knew I’d have to save it for last, figuring I’d need at least a year’s worth of cooking practice before I could safely attempt to deal with the entire leg of a large animal...

I was right and I was wrong.

I was wrong because even with a year of intentional cooking under my belt, I still messed up. Alison gives two sets of instructions in the recipe for roasting and braising. I went the braising route because she says it’s less scary and more foolproof. I covered the lamb and its baking dish with aluminum foil and stuck it in the oven at 300 degrees for the minimum time listed: 3 hours. But I don’t think the foil stayed tightly wrapped the whole time, and thus, too much steam escaped, allowing the meat to dry out some.

I should have checked it part way through, as an insurance policy. But part of me felt like checking on meat before it’s supposed to be done was “the old Annie.” The old Annie who doubted herself and the process. In her many meat recipes, Alison routinely says things like “resist the temptation to peak” or “don’t even bother peaking until the timer goes off - it won’t be ready before then, I promise”. I tried to actually followed her advice for once. (I’m not blaming her for the fail, but you get the point.) To be clear, the lamb wasn’t ruined — the flavor rocked, and the meat was still tender. But did it fall apart at the touch the way Alison describes? Definitely not.

I was also right that this recipe should be saved for the end because after a year’s worth of intentional cooking, I’ve seen great improvement in my ability to get something wrong and not feel ashamed about it.

A year ago, I would have been mortified the moment I cut into the lamb and realized what had happened. I can just picture the way my cheeks would have reddened and my heart started to pound. And to be sure, that was a temptation for me last Monday. But only for a moment. Instead, I paused and thought, “That’s what this whole process is about, right? Learning — getting it wrong so you can eventually get it right. Your friends are here to join you in that project, not to consume something perfect.”

As my friends sat around the table, I stood to give an introduction to the meal. At the end, I explained that the lamb didn’t turn out the way I had hoped. It wasn’t tough, but it was dry. But then I said, mostly for myself, that I was grateful that they agreed to participate in my project — a project that emphasized learning over perfection. And I sat down, unashamed.

If you know me personally, you know that this kind of moment is a huge marker of growth. 

The lamb is served atop a bed of thinly sliced fennel and herbs marinated in red pepper flakes and lemon juice - and truly, it was exactly what the lamb needed to balance its saltiness. Alison doesn’t mention this, but after 3 hours of braising, the sliced fennel bulb that cooks underneath the lamb in the braising liquid is soft and infused with all of the lamb’s spices - fennel seed and cumin seed. I scooped them out of the baking dish and tossed them with the fresh fennel slices before laying the slices of lamb on top. It added even more flavor and substance to the dish. I served the lamb, sprinkled with sumac, alongside a bowl of sour cream. 

And thus marked my second to last All-Out-Alison meal of the project: 

219 recipes cooked, 6 to go.

Chicories with Yogurt, Preserved Lemon, and Mint

I discovered earlier this year that radicchio is far too bitter for my taste. Most chicories are. I didn’t expect to enjoy this salad, which proved true. But one of my dinner guests enjoyed it so much that he took home all of the leftovers. I guess it’s an acquired taste. 

This salad is very simple — torn radicchio and mint leaves tossed with grated garlic, lemon juice, and preserved lemon. Salt and pepper, of course. And laid atop salted greek yogurt. But no matter the flavor pairing, a salad that primarily consists of radicchio, in my opinion, will always be dominated by its inherent bitterness, even with a creamy dressing like yogurt. But the salad sure looked beautiful! 

I served this salad alongside Alison’s Vinegar-Roasted Beets (love!), Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb (post to come), and Sour Cream Flatbreads (a true omg). 


218 recipes cooked, 7 to go.

Vinegar-Roasted Beets with Spring Onions by Alison Roman

The summer after I graduated college, I lived in a friend’s basement for a month while trying to find my own place. Kate and her husband and two children, had a local farmer’s produce subscription box that she picked up at the local farmer’s market every other Saturday morning. That box was our entertainment all week long. Kate made it an activity to find creative ways to use up all of the vegetables in the box before they went bad. Every night I came from work and she’d be chopping up a rutabaga or slicing a yellow squash for the third night that week, and we’d talk about her strategy for that night’s veggie variation. One of the most common vegetables included were beets. I knew practically nothing about them at the start, but over that  month, I helped chop, peel, roast, boil, and slice more beets than I thought possible. And I fell in love with them.

Alison has two beet recipes and both are great. The first is her Beets with Buttermilk and Walnuts, which my friends still talk about as “life-changing.” The second are her vinegar-roasted beets which I think I like even more.

The first step is to roast the beets whole and unpeeled in tin foil packets, doused in white distilled vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper. Once a fork can easily pierce them, they’re ready to cool. After letting them lose their too-hot-to-handle status, it’s safe to grab a paper towel and shrug the outer skin off. The skin on my beets clung a little more tightly, so I used a paring knife to shave off the stubborn parts.

Since these beets were planned as a side dish to a larger meal that required lots of oven time, I chose to roast these first and let them cool completely while I prepared the other dishes. Alison doesn’t mention anything about serving the beets cold, but I can tell you that it worked wonderfully.

Closer to dinner time, I seared the scallions in my cast iron and mixed the yogurt and lime juice at the bottom of my serving bowl. I placed the quartered beats onto the yogurt and scattered the scallions and lots of dill over everything.

The beets were a hit! They were the only dish to be finished completely on the table. I served them with Alison’s Sour Cream Flatbreads, and most people chose to dip their breads into the yogurt mixture at the bottom of the beet bowl after the beets were all served. I enjoyed it so much that I decided to buy more beets for this coming week to repeat the dish. And that’s saying something.

217 recipes cooked, 8 to go.