Yesterday was an excellent day. Mondays aren’t usually my favorite, but it was a day off for both Os, complete with sleeping in, eggs benedict (thanks, Mr. O!), fruit salad, a quick trip to Target, and a leisurely amble, with Mr. O’s sister L and future sister-in-law S, through the new Art of the Americas wing at the MFA, where we managed to pick out a few postcards to start decorating Baby O’s room.
Oddly enough, this lovely day ended with warm potato salad.
Let’s face it: “warm potato salad” evokes nausea-inducing images of neglected picnic fare gone dreadfully wrong.
So warm potato salad, until now, has not blipped perceptibly on my culinary radar screen. However, the only consistent craving I’ve been experiencing over the last few months is for vinegar. Briney olives, over-pickled beets (remember those nine jars?), homemade vinaigrettes, etc. I’ll settle for lemon juice if necessary, but vinegar is the gold standard of acidity these days. So when I came across a recipe for French potato salad, complete with three lovely tablespoons of vinegar, I had to try it.
Essentially, boiled potatoes are chopped and then tossed in a mild vinaigrette, and finished off with parsley (itself already chopped, thanks to this weekend’s slicing and dicing). Here’s the finished product:
It turned out to be warm, satisfying, creamy (from the potatoes’ outer layer of starch), and just a bit tangy.
Did I mention that dinner — we also had pan-cooked salmon (Mr. O is an expert), watercress salad (another excuse to make vinaigrette), and a few pepper slices — was ready in under an hour? A perfect day.
Coming soon: Baby O’s library!