Salad Days: Arugula and Strawberry Salad

I knew arugula when. Back, before it was mainstream and cool, when it was called rugola and grew wild on my grandparents’ backyard lawn. I remember my Nonna would head to the backyard with her paring knife and plastic grocery bag to take in her harvest. Almost invariably it would wind up tossed with olive oil, red wine vinegar, and salt and pepper.


But arugula’s current popularity comes only at the tail end of a very long career. Rugola has been part of the Mediterranean diet since antiquity. The Romans were eating its leaves as a vegetable, using its seeds to flavor oils, and making aphrodisiac and medicinal compounds from the plants. It still grows wild in the Italian countryside and is often regarded as a "poor man's" green.

The reason for this culinary longevity lay in arugula’s versatility. Arugula has a very intense and mustard and peppery flavour and wild rugola especially so. This richness of flavour means that arugula can hold its own alongside grilled meats or on sandwiches, as a pizza topping, lightly sauteed in olive oil, added to soups, pastas, and risottos for a bit of colour, flavour, and nutrients, or even combined with garlic, walnuts, olive oil, lemon juice, and Parmesan cheese into a pesto. Rugola is also low in calories and rich in vitamins A and C, folate, calcium, and magnesium. Put simply: It’s really good for you too.

The most common place to find arugula is served raw as part of a salad. Arugula salads can range from the simple -- the leaves tossed in a dressing of lemon juice, olive oil, salt, and pepper -- to the more substantive. This salad falls well into that latter category. With strawberries starting to show up supermarkets at a reasonable price again, this is a chance to combine the rich pepperiness of the rugola with the sweetness of the fruit and the tang of good balsamic vinegar. The meatiness of toasted walnuts and the sharpness of pecorino romano round out the flavour combination. Rugola has come a long way from those simple tossed salads of this bear chef's youth.


Arugula and Strawberry Salad

To begin, toast about one half (1/2) cup of chopped walnuts in a dry skillet over medium to low heat. Be sure to stir the walnuts often. This should take about five or ten minutes, you'll know they're ready when they turn a light brown and the smell of toasted walnuts takes to the air. Remove them from heat and set aside to cool for another ten minutes or so. Alternatives to walnuts can include cashews or almonds as well as hazelnuts.

Next, wash and thinly slice the fresh strawberries. You'll need about two cups or, to be much less precise, two good handfuls of each. Place one handful of strawberries at the bottom of you mixing bowl and set the other aside. Blackberries and raspberries can substitute for the strawberries in this salad. The important thing is that there is a tart and sweetness to them. Strawberries though add the best pop of colour.

Cover with about two tablespoons of the best balsamic vinegar you can afford and about one tablespoon of the best olive oil you can afford. To that add a pinch of sea salt and another of freshly ground pepper. Next, add either a pinch of sugar or a dab of honey and then mix altogether. This should probably be set aside to rest for about ten minutes or so, letting the flavours of the vinegar and strawberries to get to know one another and pair off.

Another possibility is to use a lemon dressing. Combine the juice of two lemons with olive oil, salt, pepper, and honey or sugar to taste. You may also want to include a bit of lemon zest to the dressing which will impart a nice, vibrant citrus flavour to the dressing. This dressing should be left to rest on its own, and only combined with the salad just before being served however.

While the dressing and strawberries are getting to know one another and the walnuts are cooling, you'll have time to make sure about four cups or so of fresh arugula (preferably baby arugula) has been properly washed and dried. Here I'm using the baby arugula/baby spinach blend the grocery store carries and it works just as well.


Next grate or crumble about one half of a cup of the pecorino romano. Alternatives to this are a sharp goat's cheese, feta, and, of course, a good Parmesan. With the goat's cheese, you can try browning it in the toaster before adding it to the salad for a bit of extra flavour. I've also wondered how an aged cheddar, with its rich and sharp flavours would work on this salad, but have not yet experimented with it. The quality of cheese is important to the success of this salad. You shouldn't have to spend a fortune, but you shouldn't skimp on it either.

Once cheese and arugula are ready, you can begin building your salad. To the mixing bowl with the dressing and strawberries add your arugula and toss lightly. One trick is to cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap before doing this to avoid any spillage and mess. Next, add the handful of fresh strawberries that have been set aside. Sprinkle on top with the toasted walnuts and then the cheese and enjoy.

There should be enough to serve about three people as a side and one person as a main.

"From the Library of Anita Masotti . . . "

If God had intended us to follow recipes, He wouldn't have given us grandmothers.

~Linda Henley





My love of cooking began in my Nonna’s kitchen. That is where we spent so much of our time, where we bonded, and where she first taught me about food. What I enjoyed most were those wonderfully simple and hearty dishes that had been carried over across the Atlantic from the “Old Country.” They felt less like recipes than they did traditions: knowledge that was being handed down from one generation to the next. Even now, whenever I’m in the kitchen I’m reminded of her. One of my Nonna’s best dishes was baccala, a simple stew of salt cod.


The History of Baccala

Fish preserved in salt -- mostly anchovies, eels, sardines, herring, tuna -- had been a part of European cuisine since antiquity. Baccala -- the Italian word for salt cod -- entered the Mediterranean diet sometime in the fifteenth century. European fishermen, mostly from England, Ireland, and parts of Spain had been visiting the Grand Banks off of Newfoundland for much of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, but they were few in number and travelling in small boats, and so their trade was limited. Only in the fifteenth century, when more and larger ships began to visit the Grand Banks, did the North Atlantic fish trade begin apace. The salt pans of the Mediterranean provided Northern fishermen with the necessary salt to preserve their catches. A string of poor harvests, coupled with the general poverty of the Mediterranean fish stocks, created a ready market. Cod was plentiful and could be had for cheap and it quickly became a staple in the diet of Italy's poor.


Most every region of Italy found its own way of preparing baccala. Some as stews, others as baked dishes, and some still as fritters. Likely each will also insist that their way is the only real way of preparing baccala. My Nonna’s recipe combines the traditions of two places: Vicentina and Livorno. Together, they produce a stew that is at once simple and rich, hearty and delicious.


Preparing the Baccala




Before salt cod can be cooked, it must first swim again. The first step in preparing baccala is to return the salt cod to something more resembling its fresh state. When buying salt cod, make sure you piece of baccala is close to white in colour, clean, and smells of fish. Even though it has been preserved, it should still retain its “fishy” smell. Bad baccala will look brown or grey in colour and smell "off."

At least two days prior to cooking, and probably three, thoroughly wash off all the salt that has collected on the fish. Next, soak the fish in a container what will hold a lot of water. The fish should soak for at least forty-eight hours and the water should be changed at least twice, and if possible, three times a day. While the fish is soaking, store it in a cool place. One method to speed up the soaking process is to cut the fish into smaller pieces beforehand. The smaller pieces of baccala will absorb water and lose salt faster than a larger piece will.



Cooking the Baccala




After those two or three days have passed, remove the baccala from the water. It should be, more or less, like a piece of fresh fish. Rinse it off under cool running water to remove the last bits of salted water and dry with a paper towel. Cut the baccala into similarly sized pieces, usually about two inches by two inches will do. Next, dredge each piece in flour. Here I’m using kamut flour but regular all-purpose flour will do just as well. Once done, set the dredged fish aside for now.





Set a large pan over medium heat. To that add a generous amount of olive oil, a few peppercorns, the tiniest pinch of crushed chili peppers, and a couple of bay leaves. Next add a one large onion that has been diced, two finely chopped celery stalks, and three cloves of garlic that have been crushed and finely chopped and allow them to cook until golden. Add to that a splash of white wine.


Next, add the baccala pieces and let cook for about five minutes or so on each side until they've browned. Add to this about one and one quarter cups of tomato. You can use whole tomatoes for this recipe, but I prefer to run them through a food mill before adding them to the pan. For this I use the same San Marzano tomatoes that I use for pizza. My Nonna often used tomatoes that had been peeled and jarred in the summertime. As always, tomato quality is very important. Too acidic and the tomatoes can ruin the dish; too flavourless and they'll just leave the meal bland and boring.

Bring the tomatoes to a simmer over medium heat and then add about one half of a cup of milk or cream along with a handful of parmesean cheese. Continue to cook over medium to low heat for another forty-five minutes to an hour. I was taught to hold off for as long as possible before adding any salt to the dish. Checking the seasoning with a dish like this is important. The cod can retain some of its saltiness but it is often difficult or impossible to predict how much. Adding any additional salt and pepper towards the end, once you've been able to taste the baccala, keeps you from over seasoning the dish.

Enjoying the Baccala


With its flavourful and creamy sauce, baccala is best served alongside, or atop of, a stiff polenta. In a pinch, some crusty Italian bread will do. Italian parsley also makes for an excellent garnish, adding a bit of fresh colour and flavour to the meal.



I've considered using fresh cod for this recipe. The results should be much the same and it would save the process of soaking the fish and the hassle of changing a large pot of water every eight hours or so. But I think that would be a mistake. Making baccala is about more than the meal for this bear chef. The tradition would be broken that way and the connection would be lost. It might be harder, but it feels right to do this the way my Nonna taught me.


P.S. Sorry about the poor quality on the prep pictures. My digital camera wasn't handy and so I had to use the camera on my cell phone.

P.P.S. The title of this article comes from the sticker that my Nonna placed on the front inside cover of each of her books. As I was looking through one of her cookbooks to learn a bit about the history of baccala, I came across one of those stickers. It struck me as the best, most appropriate title for a talk about this recipe and these memories.

Most Perfect Pizza

“You better cut the pizza in four pieces because I'm not hungry enough to eat six.” - Yogi Berra


Pizza, to my mind, is one of the most perfect foods. I love the combination of flavours and textures it offers. I love the versatility, the limitless possibilities that pizza affords, the way it can be adapted to climate, season, and locale. I love how much fun pizza is to make. I love to eat pizza and to share pizza. I love the way pizza can bring people together. I love pizza.




Neither of my Nonnas were really pizza-makers. Their specialities lay elsewhere, in soups and stews, sauces and lasagna, and oh so many kinds of dessert. No, my first pizzas were of the delivery variety, usually from Catalano’s or Franco’s and then later Villa Nova, Naples, or Capri. It’s pretty much what you would expect. Not great but neither was it awful: it was good, or at least, good enough. It fell to my Mom and my Uncle to start making pizza at home. Each of them went their own way, my Mom making something like a deep-dish pizza with lots of dough, cheese, sauce, and delicious toppings. My Uncle, instead, focused on lighter and more traditional fare: a thinner crust that was topped with sauce, cheese, and the occasional pieces of salami.

Now it’s my turn to try my hand at being a pizzaiolo or master pizza chef. The latest object of my culinary affections is the simple, traditional thin-crust pizza that is prepared in a wood-fired oven. My goal has been to replicate at home, to the best of my abilities, what I’ve read about online and experienced ever-so-often in Windsor’s Terra Cotta Pizzeria. The challenge in this is duplicating the cooking process because, sadly, I haven't yet found the wood-fired oven in my apartment. After a lot of trial and error, I think I've figured it out.


Making the Pizza


The Dough:

The first step to making the most perfect pizza is the dough. I prefer using a one-to-one blend between kamut flour and regular never-bleached all purpose flour. The kamut is a heartier flour (a healthier one too for that matter) and it gives the dough a stronger, richer flavour. You might also use a whole wheat flour or an oat flour to get similar results. You could also add a bit of cornmeal to the dough. Another bear chef I know, trying to add a bit of fibre, nutrients, and flavour to her pizza, makes this really fantastic dough that has flax seeds in it. There are endless possibilities available to you.

To make the dough, in a fair-sized bowl or, if you prefer, on a cutting board or piece of parchment paper, combine a cup each of kamut flour and regular unbleached flour. You'll need a bit more flour through out this process so keep another cup or so handy. To that, add 1 teaspoon of salt and then mix together until both flours and salt are combined. Form a well (which is called a fontana or "fountain" in Italian) in the middle of your pile of flour and add about half a packet, or around 5 ml, of yeast to it. Sprinkle a pinch of flour, a pinch of sugar, and a splash of lukewarm water (about 50 ml) over top the yeast and let sit for about half an hour or so. Once you see a foam form over top the yeast, you’re ready for the next step. Add about a quarter of a cup of lukewarm water to the well along with two tablespoons of honey. You can use sugar, about a teaspoon if you do, but I find that honey just tastes better.

The next step is to begin to incorporate flour by cupping your hands and drawing some of the flour from the sides into the 'fountain' and mixing. Add more water, a bit at a time, and incorporate more flour, until you have formed a dough, then knead by hand for a good 10-15 minutes. If you find that you've added too much water or the dough isn't doughy enough, simply add a bit more flour to the mix. Coat the sides and bottom of a deep bowl with a generous amount of olive oil, moving the dough ball around so that it becomes coated in olive oil. Cover the bowl with a clean dish towel and let the dough rest for at least two or three hours.

The dough needs to rest for about three hours. Depending on the temperature and humidity in your kitchen, it might need a bit longer or a bit less. This is an organic process after all and your dough is alive. One trick I’ve learned to help the process along is to place the bowl into an oven with the oven light on. This doesn't mean that more time is a bad thing. The longer a dough rests the more time it has to develop a deeper and richer flavour. I’ve made dough in the morning and then let it rest all day or even the night before so that it has a solid twenty-four hour rest and the results have been amazing.


The Toppings:


One of the best parts about being a pizzaiolo is the fun you can have mixing and matching flavours and textures to top a pizza. For this pizza simplicity is key: crust, tomatoes, cheese, and that's all. With so few ingredients, each one will need to work hard. That is why quality ingredients are so very important. Use the best tomatoes and the best cheese you can find and you won't be disappointed.







For this pizza I used La San Marzano di A. Romano Brand tomatoes and a local buffalo milk fresh mozzarella. The San Marzano tomatoes are a bit more than the canned tomatoes you'll find in the
supermarket, but they're worth the cost. Sweeter and fleshier, they're much less likely to taste bitter and acidic once cooked. Open the can and using a fork, remove three or four tomatoes (depending on their size) and place them into a bowl. Using that fork, or if you feel like getting messy, your hands, simply crush the tomatoes into a bit of a sauce. You can splash some of the puree from the can into the bowl to help with this. Whatever is left in the can, seal up into a container and set aside. You can use it to make a sauce or to make another pizza. Buffalo milk mozzarella is slightly sharper and saltier in flavour than fresh mozzarella made from cow's milk. If you can't find buffalo milk mozzarella, the bocconcini you find at the local supermarket will do. You'll need two or three per pizza. The last of the ingredients you'll need are a bit more olive oil, some sea salt, fresh ground pepper, and fresh basil.



The Pizza:

About an hour before you want to cook, place your baking stone into the oven and turn the oven up to its highest setting. To come close to replicating the cooking process of a wood-fired oven you'll need both oven and stone to get as hot as possible. After that, open a bottle of good Italian wine and pour yourself a glass. Nothing too heavy, just something that will go well with pastas and cheeses. The wine will help to set the mood and release your own inner pizzaiolo.

Spread out a good sized piece of parchment paper, at least as big as your baking stone. To that, add a good handful of flour, you'll need it. Take about half the dough, and place it on the parchment paper. Using the flour and a rolling pin, your goal is to spread out that dough as much as possible so you'll have the thinnest crust as possible. It'll take some effort -- think of it as a work out maybe? -- but it will be worth it. Don't worry that the dough isn't forming a perfect circle, it will still taste amazing. As William Denton says, "food is to eat, not to frame and hang up on the wall." Once the dough is only about a quarter of an inch thick, perforate the crust every couple of inches with the tongs of a fork, this will keep it from bubbling up as it cooks.

Now the crust is ready for your toppings. Spread out the crushed tomatoes. Sprinkle a pinch of sea salt over this and a bit of cracked pepper. Next, tear your fresh mozzarella into one or two inch chunks. You may need to taste a piece of mozzarella at this point just to make sure the flavour is alright. Pizzaiolo's prerogative. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone if you won't. Add that to the pizza next. Remember, the trick is not to smother the pizza in cheese. Rather, the fresh mozzarella is meant to accent and enhance the flavour of the tomatoes which should really be dominant. Drizzle a bit of olive oil over top the pizza and a pinch more of the sea salt over top the chunks of fresh mozzarella. Now this pizza is ready for the oven.


Using a pizza paddle, or, if you don't have one, a wooden cutting board as a make shift pizza paddle, transfer the pizza and parchment paper to the baking stone. I can't stress enough to be careful as everything in that oven is going to be very hot. Also, remember to keep the pizza flat, you don't want all your delicious toppings to slide off it and onto the bottom of your oven. Cooking time will be anywhere from ten to twelve to fourteen minutes. Keep an eye on the pizza but if you can, don't open the oven door. You want to make sure all that heat is trapped in the oven cooking your pizza, not escaping out into your kitchen. However, depending on how heat moves around in your oven, you might have to rotate the pizza to allow for more even cooking. When the crust has become a nice golden brown, with darker bits around the edges, and the cheese has melted and browned a bit (a process the drizzled olive oil helps along) your pizza is ready to come out.



Mangiare!:

The smell of freshly baked pizza is going to fill your kitchen and you're going to be overcome with the desire to eat pizza right away. Don't! Trust me on this. For one, you'll burn your mouth and that's not fun. Also, the flavours need time to settle down and merge together. Set the pizza aside on a cooling rack and let it rest for about ten minutes. During that time, clean, and if you like, roughly chop, three or four good sized basil leaves and add that to the top of the pizza. You can also prepare a quick hot sauce for dipping, again a trick learned from Terra Cotta and a fellow bear chef, using a sweet chili sauce mixed with a bit of regular hot sauce.

Once you've let the pizza cool a bit, it's ready to be eaten. This kind of pizza can work well as a primi piatti (a first course), as a secondi (second or main course), or even as a snack. It's equally enjoyable served warm or at room temperature. It works especially well when served along side a simple salad of arugula tossed in olive oil, salt, pepper, garlic, and lemon juice. Be sure to enjoy alongside a glass of good Italian wine.

Perhaps the best compliment to the most perfect pizza, the only thing that can really improve it, is the same thing that makes all food better: good company. All food is better when there is somebody worth sharing it with.