Last year when I stayed at The Paris in Las Vegas I ate a Salade Niçoise from the cafe downstairs. It was about the worst Salade Niçoise I've ever eaten. Ever since that day I've felt a slight longing to have a proper Niçoise, but things reached fever pitch a few weeks ago.
And then I moved and I couldn't cook anything for two weeks.
A few days ago, when my new kitchen opened for business, I gathered all the ingredients for a Salade Niçoise and tonight, I assembled. I also improvised slightly: left off the tuna, red pepper instead of tomato, the anchovy off the egg, but I did use green Spanish olives stuffed with anchovy. (If you've never had an anchovy-stuffed olive your life is not yet complete.) (I'm serious.) Finally, a really good salad with perfect haricot verts, crisp greens, small potatoes, and a homemade dijon vinagrette.
Now for the serious business,
YES WE MOVED WE ARE MOVED WE MOVED INTO A HOUSE AN ACTUAL HOUSE WITH A YARD AND EVERYTHING I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE IT.
We keep wandering about, not really sure what to do with all the space--well, other than decorate it with late model cardboard boxes.
And really, we ought to be more contained with our moving about, because it's really causing a strain on the spiders that have called this place home for the past year. Yes, my new house has been empty for one year and two months, which means that we are surrounded by spiders and bugs. Mostly spiders.
The other night, after the two of us had unpacked more boxes and finally set up the wireless network, we retired to our pepto-pink bedroom. I was moving around when I saw the big black dime shaped spider skittering across the edge of the ceiling. I am short. Our ceilings are not. So J reached up and killed the spider, but being proponents of equal work, it's my job after his killing to clean up the remains. I am still short, prompting J to suggest climbing into a large box filled with clothes to try to get a boost of height. (This was all happening around 1:30 am, so we may not have been thinking entirely straight.) I got a boost of height, and with J holding my left elbow for support, I reached up to tissue the goo when THE BIG BLACK SPIDER SKITTERED TO THE SIDE BECAUSE IT WAS STILL ALIVE and I screamed, fell backwards, into the side of the box, all the way down, halfway onto J (because really, who could have predicted that a few fingers to my elbow wouldn't totally stabilize me,) and thought, thankfully in vain, that I might have broken another toe. So we killed the spider, again, this time for real, and resolved to call an exterminator in the morning.
But the Salade Niçoise from my very own new kitchen?