In Winter, Take the Bitter With the Sweet

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/19/dining/chicory-salad-recipes.html

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We think of summer as prime time for produce, but winter has bright seasonal salads, too. A cold-weather salad bowl may hold a lively mixture of sturdy-leafed, multicolored greens in the chicory family, instead of lettuce, along with a riot of citrus fruits.

It is bit odd to term them “greens,” since many chicories’ leaves are a deep red, ranging from burgundy to crimson. This is especially true of the slightly-but-pleasantly-bitter Italian varieties of red chicory known as radicchio.

The round-headed red radicchio di Chioggia, which looks something like a small red cabbage decorated with distinct white veins, is the most common found in supermarkets in the U.S. Some like to chop it or even shred it like slaw, but I usually prefer to tear the leaves in to fairly large pieces for a salad.

Other radicchio varieties, like the ruddy, elongated Treviso, which I cut into 1-inch wide ribbons, and the scarlet curly-fingered Tardivo (I lop off the fingers and leave them whole) are likely to be available at farmers’ markets in the coming months. Some produce markets receive weekly deliveries of these characteristically Italian salad greens.

As a counterpoint to radicchio’s mildly bitter edge, it is common to pair it with an assertive savory vinaigrette, which might contain garlic, mustard or anchovy. This is a lovely route to take, nearly begging for chopped hard-cooked egg and canned tuna.

But for a spectacular pairing of flavors, I suggest a sweet connection between radicchio and citrus.

Citrus is at its peak now, so destiny prevails. My favorite combination for this salad is blood oranges, navel oranges, ruby grapefruit and kumquats, but you can pick and choose. A small serrated paring knife will help to remove the peel and pith of the fruits easily. Then simply slice them and arrange them among the red leaves in all their colorful glory.

All that remains is to whisk up a little dressing with some chopped shallot and grapefruit juice. Use olive oil or walnut oil, and add some toasted walnuts. The sweet-sour-bitter-nutty combination is extremely seductive.

Chicories come in other shapes and colors. Green escarole is a member of the family (as is frisée, curly endive).

The Belgian endive is a pale ivory, and its leaves are tightly packed into pointed, torpedolike heads. Endives (there are also red-hued and frilly fringed yellow versions) are great for salads. Some find them a bit less bitter than radicchio. I don’t find raw endive bitter at all; the leaves to me are crisp, juicy and refreshing.

Cooking turns eating them into an altogether different experience, with a complex flavor that reminds me of artichokes. In Belgium and France, roasted or gratinéed endive is a common side dish.

Choose medium to small endives, split them lengthwise top to bottom, and they are ready to cook. First they are browned in butter, then slathered with crème fraîche and broiled until nearly, but not quite, burnt.

This is a simple riff on an old French “comfort food” recipe for endive à la crème, a homey gratin with cream and bits of ham. Without the ham baked in, it makes an excellent first course, perhaps draped with a bit of prosciutto; or it may reside happily alongside a piece of roasted chicken or fish. The taste of broiled endive is revelatory if you’ve never tried it: The endive becomes both creamy and caramelized, and the combined layers of flavor are exquisite.

Recipes: Caramelized Endives With Crème Fraîche | Winter Citrus and Red Chicories Salad

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