Suddenly, Green Goddess Dressing is showing up everywhere, as if in cahoots with overflowing fall  herb gardens. I’ve encountered it on four menus in the past month. And I can’t stop ordering it, even though restaurant versions pale by comparison to what you can make in your own kitchen. Restaurants invariably hold back on the herbs, perhaps to control cost or to appeal to the less adventurous diner. This is a mistake, because this dressing is supposed to be all about the herbs and bold rather than timid.

In case you have no idea what The Green Goddess is all about, the legend goes that Executive Chef Phillip Roemer created it at the Palace Hotel in 1923, at an event in honor of actor George Arliss, who was the lead in the play “The Green Goddess” by William Archer.

The bright green dressing struck a glamorous chord and became one of the most popular dressings on the West Coast for several decades. Eventually, ranch dressing stole the limelight, however, and The Green Goddess lost its allure, concluding its 50-year reign in ubiquitous bottles on grocery store shelves, before disappearing almost entirely.

But thank heaven a resurgence is underway. The Green Goddess is too phenomenal to be lost forever. Today, there are almost as many versions of this iconic dressing as there are cooks. I have seen it made with oil and vinegar, mayonnaise, sour cream, mayonnaise and sour cream, and pureed avocado. The only constant seems to be lots of parsley and fresh herbs, especially mint.

For me, a proper Green Goddess Dressing must be mayonnaise-based, rather than oil-based. An oil-based Green Goddess Dressing is simply Fresh Herb Vinaigrette, which may be very good, but it’s not The Goddess of Green. The other essential elements of this dressing are anchovy, garlic, and lemon. I also like a little heat from Serrano chile, a little bite from Dijon mustard, and a little zing from capers. This dressing is not meant to be demure.

Green Goddess Dressing is infinitely versatile, and you should feel free to make it your own. Just taste as you go, building a perfect harmony of compelling flavor notes on top of a rich creamy base of mayonnaise.

Green Goddess Dressing

This is a marvelous salad dressing—rich, creamy, herbaceous, tangy, zippy, and savory. No one flavor steals the show; rather it’s the ultimate ensemble act.

large handful flat leaf parsley
large handful fresh chives or green onions
small handful fresh mint leaves
small handful fresh basil or tarragon, optional
1 Serrano chile, stemmed, seeded, and ribbed (use disposable gloves)
2 tablespoons capers
2 large cloves garlic, peeled
zest of 1 large lemon

1 cup Best Foods mayonnaise
¾ cup buttermilk
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
2 anchovy filets or 2 teaspoons anchovy paste
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
½ teaspoon fine sea salt, plus more to taste
freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1. In a processor fitted with the steel knife, puree the parsley, chives, mint, basil, capers, garlic, and lemon peel. If you are using an anchovy filet, add it here.
2. Add mayonnaise, buttermilk, lemon juice, vinegar, anchovy paste (unless you added anchovy filet above), and Dijon mustard. Process to incorporate.
3. Taste the dressing, and season with salt and pepper to taste.
4. Before serving, check the viscosity of your dressing. If the dressing is too thick (likely), thin with additional buttermilk.

Makes 3 cups.

Green Goddess & Blue Cheese Dressing

If you love blue cheese, this dressing will rock your world.

above ingredients
½ cup crumbled blue cheese

1. At Step 1, add crumbled blue cheese.
2. Proceed as directed with the rest of the recipe.

Resources

• Food Network: Bibb Salad with Green Goddess Dressing
• Hedonia: Green Goddess Dressing
• Life’s Ambrosia: Green Goddess Dressing
• Los Angeles Times: Culinary SOS: Dish’s Green Goddess Dressing
• Saveur: Green Goddess Dressing
• SFGate: Prospect’s Twist on Classic Green Goddess Dressing
• TasteSpotting the Blog: Green Goddess Dressing
• Wikopedia: Green Goddess Dressing

I Love Hearing from You!

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Copyright 2012 Susan S. Bradley. All rights reserved.

OK, let me break this to you gently. You may want to sit down. This is not actually a TART. It’s a QUICHE. You remember what a quiche is, right?

Quiche is one of those unfortunate classic dishes that while enjoying its heyday in the 1970′s, riding the French culinary wave that swept America, finally flagged under the weight of overexposure bordering on hysteria, to become the antithesis of the nouvelle cuisine that hit the country near the end of that same decade.

Almost overnight, quiche disappeared from every restaurant menu across the country, and even faithful home cooks abandoned it. The popular refrain, “Real men don’t eat quiche,” gave it the taint of sissy food, whatever that is.

Not that it doesn’t exist as a concept anymore; it’s just that for a while there, serious foodies no longer uttered the word “quiche” among their peers for fear of social disapproval. Ah, what a sad plight it was. Something like discarding your favorite, much-loved, much-worn tweed jacket, because it is no longer “tres chic.”

There is more than a small measure of hypocrisy to this snobbery; I’ve noted with surreptitious glee over the years that food writers, cookbook authors, and the like have taken their ordinary quiche recipes and retitled them as tarts, flans, savory custards, or just plain, old-fashioned pies. To think, respectability can be conferred by a mere name. This is the first time I’ve done this, however, and it’s just to make a point.

So let me stake my ground here. To my palate, there is never going to be anything less than outrageously delicious about a savory custard encased in a light, buttery pastry. Call it what you will. I cannot abandon this gorgeous, soul warming dish.

Nevertheless, I’m not suggesting that you serve QUICHE at an important brunch or luncheon affairs–unless you are a total free spirit and don’t give a fig about what others think and if so, bravo! There are, unfortunately, those haughty people who may fault you for it. Instead, savor this quiche privately with your family and close friends, with whom such considerations are irrelevant.

Or call it a TART, and be prepared for applause.

Technique Note: I did a lot of research on the techniques underlying perfect pastry and perfect custard after being served one too many poor examples of both in restaurants and cooking schools. Tough pastry and watery, separated or grainy custard are NOT what quiche is supposed to be about.

The pastry lesson requires a post of its own, but I will tell you here the critical thing I learned about making perfect custard. DO NOT heat the eggs past the point that they are no longer capable of holding the liquid in suspension. Temperature and timing are critical to the success of the custard. If the custard is over baked, it will turn granular and separate, leaving pools of liquid that ooze out when you cut it.

To prevent this, remove the quiche from the oven when the center indentation is 3-5 inches in diameter. You will have to experiment with your particular quiche pan to see exactly how large this indentation should be. (I used to think that the surface of a custard must be fully “puffed” or convex in appearance before it could be pronounced done. This is a mistake that a great many cooks make.  Watch for the diminishing center indentation, stop at 3-5 inches (which you determined to be perfect on the last bake), and you’ll be fine.  The custard continues to cook and set even after it is removed from the oven.

Note from the pictures above, that my indentation was a bit too large for this size quiche pan. I couldn’t recall the exact dimension I used to use, so I guessed. My quiche should have been left in the oven for 5-8 minutes longer (thus making the indentation smaller). I made a note to this effect on the bottom of the quiche pan insert, so next time, I’ll get it perfect. In any case, it’s better to under bake slightly than to over bake. Eggs in a custard base are safe to eat at 160°. A cooked custard should test no higher than 180°, at which point it will curdle.

Equipment Note: Metal tart pans with removable bottoms are standard baking containers for quiche. They come in several types and a large variety of sizes. There is one that is very shallow, less than 1-inch deep, and another that is almost 2-inches deep. The deeper one allows for more filling goodies in the custard base, and is the one I most frequently use.

After the quiche is baked, you simply rest it on a stable object of smaller diameter than the quiche pan bottom and let the outside rim fall off.  (A bit of careful prying will be necessary if the custard has leaked.) The quiche is then placed on an appropriate serving platter, free-standing.

Or you may prefer to use a white ceramic quiche plate, in which case, the tart stays in the dish, rather than being unmolded. A flexible spatula will be of assistance in removing the first slice. Regular pie pans may also be used for making quiche, although, unless you have something very special, they are the least attractive choice. The pan size indicated here typically measures 10-inches at the top and 9-inches at the bottom.

To accommodate smaller or shallower quiche pans, diminish the ingredient proportions accordingly; don’t worry about being exact, anything in the general range of 1 egg to ½ cup cream will work.

Baby Leek, Cheddar & Rosemary Tart

This quiche is pure heaven! The fresh herbs are magical with the baby leeks.

9- to 10-inch, deep-dish, partially prebaked LunaCafe’s Flakey Short-Crust Pastry or your favorite pastry (4-6 cup capacity) (I will post this later)

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 medium-large leeks, trimmed and sliced crosswise (white and light green portions only) (4 cups sliced)
2 teaspoons, peeled, minced garlic
3 tablespoons finely minced fresh chives
2 teaspoons finely minced fresh rosemary
1 teaspoon finely minced fresh sage

4 large eggs
2 cups cream (or half and half)

3 ounces grated, aged cheddar (about 2 loosely packed cups)
1 ounce finely grated Parmesan (about 1/3 cup)

sea salt, to taste
freshly ground white pepper, to taste

1. Allow the pastry (in the pan) to cool on a wire rack.
2. In a large sauté pan, melt the butter and slowly cook the leek and garlic until translucent and tender, without browning.
3. Add the chives, rosemary, and sage, and remove from the heat.
4. In a large mixing bowl, whisk the eggs just enough to smooth them. Whisk in the cream,   and season well with salt and pepper.  Taste to make sure the seasoning is adequate.
5. Combine the cheeses, and then sprinkle a little of the mixture over the bottom of the pastry shell (melting it quickly under a broiler if you like, to help ensure a crisp bottom crust), and then evenly distribute the leek mixture over the top.
6. Pour the custard over the leek mixture, taking care not to overfill it.  Leave ¼- to ½-inch top edge clearance. (If there is custard remaining, fill a ramekin or two and bake in a bain-marie at a later time.)
7. Sprinkle the top of the quiche with the remaining cheese mixture, and bake at 350° for about 40 minutes.
8. Cool the quiche slightly on a wire rack, allowing at least 10 minutes of set-up time before cutting.  (Actually, quiche tastes best when cooled just a bit.)
9. Remove the rim of the quiche pan and cut into eight wedges to serve. (Because of the delicacy of the pastry, I find it better to cut through the top edge with a serrated bread knife, changing to a flat-bladed knife to finish the bottom of each slice. This way the pastry does not break or shatter.

Serves 6-8.

Sometime in those happy first couple of years together, I discovered a cookbook that defined that period of our lives: The Vegetarian Epicure by Anna Thomas. And even though I was teaching a 10-week course at the university on the art of French cooking (only a lesson or two ahead of my students), what I cooked for us at home were Anna’s simple, tasty, affordable dishes. We weren’t even vegetarians.
I am looking at that scruffy book now, held together only by yellowed tape. Almost every page is covered with my barely legible notes, such as “make triple batch for large blue casserole,” and “James’ favorite onion quiche.”
The Eggplant Pasta Sauce on page 246 contains a couple of my early revisions. Today’s recipe barely resembles its predecessor, but the idea is the same: namely, a piquant tomato-olive-wine sauce with generous quantities of sweet peppers and eggplant.

This hearty, almost meaty, sauce is one of the first dishes I make each fall in the Northwest. In September, farmers markets are overflowing with eggplant, bell peppers, and ripe heirloom tomatoes. The colors and flavors are amazing together.
Thank you, Anna Thomas, for the inspiration and for enriching our lives with your memorable dishes.

Spicy Eggplant Tomato Sauce

This chunky, flavor-packed, and highly addictive sauce is wonderful in the fall and winter over pasta or polenta, quickly sautéed whole button mushrooms, or steamed and buttered cauliflower florets.

Serving Note Use 1 quart of sauce for 1 pound of dried pasta or 1½ pounds of either vegetable. Top with 3 to 4 ounces of freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

Storing Note Any remaining sauce may be frozen for up to 3 months.

¼ cup olive oil
1 onion, peeled and chopped
2 teaspoons dried basil, crumbled
2 teaspoons dried oregano, crumbled
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes (or more if you want the sauce extra-spicy)

20 Calamata olives, pitted and sliced (about ½ cup)
20 green olives, pitted and sliced (about ½ cup)
½ cup sun-dried tomatoes, soaked in hot water to soften, drained, and then chopped
6 cloves garlic, peeled and minced

1 large globe eggplant or 2-3 smaller Italian eggplants (1½ pounds), stemmed, then diced
2 green bell peppers, cored, seeded, and diced (or orange or yellow bell peppers)

3 pounds cored, skinned, seeded, chopped, ripe heirloom tomatoes (or three 14 1/2 ounce cans diced tomatoes)
2 cups dry red wine
2 cups vegetable stock (or chicken stock)
2 tablespoon tomato paste

1 tablespoon fresh oregano, chopped or torn
1 tablespoon fresh basil, torn
fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste

1. In a large skillet, heat the oil.
2. Add, and then slowly sauté the onions with the dried basil, dried oregano, and crushed red pepper until softened but not brown, about 20 minutes.
3. Stir in the olives, sun-dried tomatoes, and garlic, and sauté for a few minutes more to meld the flavors.
4. Add bell peppers and eggplant, and stir to coat with oil. Sauté briefly, about 2 minutes.
5. Add tomatoes, red wine, vegetable broth, and tomato paste. Simmer very slowly for about 40-60 minutes, adding a little more stock if the sauce becomes too thick.
6. Add fresh oregano and basil, and season to taste with salt and pepper.
7. Serve hot over sautéed mushrooms, steamed cauliflower, sautéed polenta, or cooked pasta.
8. Garnish with freshly grated Parmesan cheese if desired.

Makes 2 quarts sauce.