Say cheese

My mom is responsible for my love of cheese. When I was little, we would go shopping together at the local deli where our first stop would always be in front of the cheese counter. The heady smell of cheese made me dizzy and I'd tug her dress so we could move on to the more interesting counters where chocolate and cakes were displayed.






But no, she wouldn't give in. She'd sample every cheese that struck her fancy, from the Cretan kefalograviera to the Italian provolone and from the Greek mizithra to the French roquefort, making remarks about their acidity and creaminess to the owner of the deli.






As her culinary travel ended, she'd get three-four different kinds of cheese and we'd move over to the cold cuts counter and then on to the sweets. That's where I would go crazy; I'd glue my little face and hands to the glass, marveling at the view of candy and I'd ask her to buy me every single chocolate I laid my eyes on. Again, she wouldn't give in. She'd buy me a milk chocolate bar, my favorite kind, and that was it.






We would then stop by our greengrocer's for fresh fruit and vegetables and by the neighborhood bakery to get a couple of big loaves of crusty bread that I had the task of carrying all the way to our house. The bag always seemed so heavy to me but I was rewarded by the smell of fresh bread creeping out of the bag, enveloping my nostrils.






When we'd get home, a treat was in store for me. My mom would hastily put most of the stuff we had bought away in the cupboards and fridge and would ask me to go sit at the kitchen table. She'd bring the butter along with one or two different types of cheese and she'd break open the still warm bread loaf with her hands. She'd slather some butter on a piece of bread and then... then it was time for the cheese.






Sometimes she'd choose a hard cheese, which would be neatly placed on top of the buttered chunks of bread and other times she'd fancy a soft cheese, like Roquefort, and she'd spread it thickly on top of the bread, creating a perfect amalgam of creamy cheese and rich butter. She would then urge me to have a taste; a taste which I don't remember ever resisting.






The taste of Roquefort; I loved its saltiness and the tanginess I felt at the top of my mouth after a single bite. I loved its green and blue-colored wrinkled holes appearing inside the creamy off white of the rest of the cheese. I loved the smell that would hit me the moment I'd bring the Roquefort-smeared piece of bread near my mouth and the longing for a cold glass of milk afterward. I loved Roquefort almost as much as my mom loved it and you know what? I still do; as does she.






I sneak it anywhere I can, anywhere I can afford it won't be traced by S who, is not a great fan of blue cheese. I sneak it into tarts (like this one), pies, pizzas, grilled stuffed chicken breasts and steak sauces, and even though I can't say I'm artful enough to sneak it into a salad, still, I take my chances. And guess what? In this particular salad, it actually worked. S, despite noticing its obvious presence, loved it.






It's not a complicated salad but rather a simple, straightforward one, as all good salads should be. Slightly bitter Belgian and red endive, crisp apple, earthy walnuts, the almighty Roquefort and a vinaigrette that's made in heaven with raspberry vinegar, olive oil, Dijon mustard and honey.






Paired just with fresh, crusty bread, you have lunch. Paired with a big juicy steak, you have dinner. Serve it as part of a large festive meal or a casual dinner with friends along with a bottle of Cabernet-Sauvignon. Take it to the office with you for a light lunch. The possibilities for a salad of this kind are endless and you can definitely change it up by using pears instead of apples or hazelnuts instead of walnuts.






Speaking of changing things up, I got an uncontrollable urge the other day to change the banner of my blog. I played around with some ideas and some photographs I had taken and I came up with this. I really like it. It brightens up the place, don't you think?













Endive Salad with Apples, Walnuts and Roquefort Cheese with Raspberry Vinaigrette

I used Gala apples, which I love, because of their sweet and mild taste but also because they are crisp and firm and have a thin skin. You can certainly use any other type of apple you enjoy eating in salads, as long as it's slightly sweet rather than tart.

Choose Belgian endives with yellow colored tips rather than green because they taste less bitter.

In case you can't find raspberry vinegar, you can use red wine vinegar to make the vinaigrette. It won't be called raspberry vinaigrette anymore but it will taste fantastic.






Yield: 6 salad course servings or 4 main course servings

Ingredients

for salad
2 heads Belgian endive, around 170 g each
2 heads red endive, around 120 g each
2 Gala apples, around 160 g each
60 g walnuts, roughly chopped
100 g Roquefort cheese

for raspberry vinaigrette
35 ml raspberry vinegar
130 ml extra virgin olive oil
1 heaped tsp honey
2 tsp Dijon mustard
Salt, to taste
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste


Preparation

for salad
Cut the stems off of the Belgian and red endives, separate the leaves and rinse them under running water. Cut each leaf in half lengthwise.

Rinse and cut each apple into 16 wedges without removing the skin.


for raspberry vinaigrette
In a medium-sized bowl, add the vinegar, olive oil, honey and mustard and whisk well until the ingredients emulsify.
Add salt and pepper to taste.

assemble the salad
Arrange the endive leaves on a big platter and top with the apple wedges. Sprinkle with the chopped walnuts and crumble the Roquefort cheese on top. Using a spoon, dress the salad with the vinaigrette.
Serve immediately. Place the rest of the vinaigrette in a small bowl in case anyone wants to add more on their salad.

You can make the vinaigrette one day ahead and store it in the fridge, covered with cling film.