Aromatic Purple PlumSalad

Dear Devon,

Does fruit salad need a recipe? Certain combinations go extremely well together: Who would turn down strawberries and cantaloupe, or blackberries and peaches? Fresh and ripe, they are great combinations. But often, fruit salad collapses into browned and mushy fruit in a bowl. Peaches, strawberries, and bananas bruise easily, and on a sunny day, the fruit begins to macerate, great for jams but not ideal for fruit salad. For these reasons, I usually avoid making fruit salads.

Before leaving for Barcelona, I spent my last weekend wandering around Williamsburg. A friend brought me to Radish on Bedford Ave. The quaint shop is styled after an oldtime general store, decorated with eccentric hand-painted chalkboards and a beautiful antique lead-lined fridge. Radish pushes the phrase “take out” way beyond pizza, falafal pitas, or supermarket sushi. It’s real food, cooked using locally grown ingredients. Dishes are kept warm in stylish Staub cocottes and set beside gleaming white trays of savory side dishes. Everything looked absolutely delicious, but alas, we had just stuffed ourselves silly at Fada.



A fruit salad marked as “purple apricot, red onion, and mint” intrigued me. My experience with purple apricots is extremely limited, or rather, nonexistent. I have never seen a purple apricot, so I’m not even sure that’s what they really were. At first glance, they looked like plums. Either way, I was taken with the idea of adding spicy red onion to a sweet fruit salad. I went to the market that afternoon to try it for myself.

Radish was right. Purple onion mixed with fruit is an inspired combination. The flavor is a bit unfamiliar, but definitely not disgusting or off-putting. I sliced fresh purple plums into big wedges and added halved figs. Next came the onion, in thin slivers, opaque, crisp, and fragrant. The salad was carefully tossed with a wooden spoon, gentle on the delicate fruit. The final touch was a bit of aromatic: Lemon zest, mint, or rosemary, on other occasions.


The final salad smells spicy and flowery. It looks amazing with tiny ribbons of red onion settling onto the juicy wedges of plum and plump figs. This salad is about contrasts: Spicy, crisp raw bit of red onion paired with sweet, tangy plums and the grittiness of fig.

Don’t judge this salad until you’ve tasted it. It does require a bit of faith. Pairing red onion with plums and figs is not typical, but I guarantee that it will change how you think about the fruit salad.


Aromatic Purple Plum Salad
(makes 2 servings)

1 large purple skinned plum, sliced
4 figs, halved
2 sprigs rosemary, chopped (about ½ tsp)
1 tbsp red onion, thinly sliced

Wash figs and plums. Dry thoroughly. Cut plums into wedges (a large plum can give you 12 wedges). Halve figs. Store in a large bowl and set aside. Using a very sharp knife, cut paper-thin slices from a medium-sized red onion. Remove leaves from rosemary sprigs and finely chop. Sprinkle fruit with red onion and rosemary. With a large wooden spoon, gently mix the salad. Set aside for 5-10 minutes to allow the flavors to set.

Fig and Cheese Pizza

Hi Devon,

Eating the contents of your fridge is a daunting and unpleasant task. First, what do you do with your billion jars of condiments: mayo, hot sauces, relishes, jams, hoisin sauce, curries, and mustards? Then, how do you turn the contents of the fridge into a dish, let alone an entire meal? The fridge, a stronghold for all leftovers, frigid life-giver, perpetually extends the stay of leftovers, preservative-filled condiments, dairy products, and fruits. What happens when all this food must be consumed within a short period of time?

My fridge contains the ingredients to cook an array of international dishes. In one week, it will hold green onions, plums, squash, bok choy, milk, rhubarb, cucumbers, and miso paste. The variety challenges my inventiveness and skill, especially towards the end of the week. I am mindful of its contents, and spend the majority of my commute musing on the numerous possibilities.

Tomorrow, our apartment will be blessed with a new fridge, three inches taller, two inches wider, and one inch deeper than our current one. The difference in size seems minuscule, but the novelty of a new appliance has overshadowed the inconvenience of emptying the ice box. I was amazed how quickly fridge raiding went from exciting to strangely chore-like. Tucked in the back, containers of expired yogurt and boxes of leftover your-guess-is-as-good-as-mine went directly into the trash. Half empty / half full jars of mustard, the ones you keep buying because you can never find them, appear like a broad shouldered army ranked by flavor: Dijon, honey, Jack Daniels (!?), spicy, and standard yellow. With the exception of mayonnaise, most sealed jars will survive a few hours on the counter, especially on a crisp autumn night.



The main concern was perishable items, mainly cheese and fruit. I probably spend half my paycheck on cheese, so throwing it out was not an option. I pulled out a box of figs and some olive pita and made an impromptu pizza. A carton of Ben and Jerry's ice cream was dessert.

Olives, figs, and cheese are a natural and glorious combination. Bake until the cheese is melted and the figs are warmed through. Next time, I'm planning on adding proscuitto. I don't think it gets easier or more delicious than this. If I started a tapas bar, I could charge $12 for this (but don't tell anyone, it'll ruin the mystique).


Now the fridge is empty. But don't worry, it will soon fill up!

Fig and Cheese Pizza

Olive flatbread / pita bread
Cheese, I used a French cow's milk cheese called Tomme Noire (aged at least 21 days)
Handful of quartered figs
Salt
Black pepper

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with foil.

Place pita bread on foil. Top with slices of cheese, a salty cheese will work best here, and quartered figs. Finish with a liberal sprinkling of salt. Bake in the oven until the cheese is melted, 8 minutes. Sprinkle with freshly ground black pepper. Cut into wedges and serve warm.

Fridge off. What's for dinner?
Michelle