Pasta Salad Comes Home

It had been ages since I made a pasta salad, and longer still since I'd enjoyed one. It is hard to even remember when the idea of a pasta salad was tempting. My mother used to fix them -before they were popular, for picnics. Hers had shrimps and olives and cherry tomatoes and fresh herbs, and were a delicious main dish item. They did not have mayonaisse, and so could last nicely until you got to your picnic site. Sometimes she would grill a marinated flank steak, and slice it thinly and we would have radishes and crusty bread and fresh fruit for dessert. These were very good picnics, and the pasta salads were excellent.

Then, for a while, pasta salads were everywhere. When some dishes become popular, their innate excellence give them staying power, despite the existence of less than splendid variants. Pizza comes to mind. I tasted some of the first pizza to appear in Pittsburgh as a toddler. It is hard to imagine that non-Italians had never heard of it before-or that I could ever cease to love really good pizza.

But somehow the corrupted pasta salads were an incredible turnoff. They were often disappointing combinations of tired veg, overcooked pasta, and bottled "Italian" salad dressing. Left to soak it up too long, they were over-salty and mushy and the polar opposite of fresh tasting. Least likely to be passable were the tortellini salads- either undercooked and pellet-like, or dreary, sodden and boggy.

Every once in a while, someone served a good one. A friend made a tasty salad with tubular pasta, bits of cooked sausage, parsley and cannellini beans, where the sausage and beans crept inside the pasta, so that you got a nice surprise bite. Mostly, though, I learned to avoid pasta salads when they appeared-as they so often did, on buffet tables, block party potluck spreads and the like. For some reason, my first spring aspargus and a handful of lovely fava beans prompted me to try pasta salad anew.

Wednesday was a beautiful day, cool and sunny. I took a lunchtime walk to the Strip District, to do a bit of miscellaneous food shopping, and spotted the small pile of favas at PA Mac. A white-haired old gentleman in overalls and a work jacket was bent over the little bin, carefully picking over the pods, and putting his choices, one by one, in a plastic bag. I was late, but decided to wait until he was done, rather than make the next bus back. There might not be any favas next time- and last year I didn't get any. After a while- he noticed me waiting. He said, "Come on, there's room for both of us." So we picked them over together awhile, in comfortable silence, filling our bags slowly.

"Make sure you get full pods now, feel 'em for beans, " he said after awhile. He paused. "God, I love these."

So do I. Once I got them home, and slipped the sleek beans from pod and skin, my pile was small-just a handfull, really. This is what I made:

1/3 lb asparagus, bottom part peeled, and cut into tiny rounds
generous handful fresh favas, shelled, and unless tiny, peeled of their skins
a leek, split down the middle and well washed, then chopped in thin semicircles
meat of one poached cornish hen, shredded (what I had-roast or poached chicken would fine too)
one carrot, cut in elliptical coins
a scallion
2 tbspswhite wine vinegar
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
8 oz. ziti or other tubular pasta
sea salt
freshly ground pepper
ten large basil leaves, chiffonade
ten large mint leaves chiffonade

Bring large pot of water with pasta strainer insert to boil. Salt. Meanwhile, mix olive oil and white wine vinegar in a 2 or 3 qt serving bowl. Add some salt and pepper. Pop the asparagus, carrots and leeks in the boiling water. When asparagus is barely done, pop favas in for a minute. Pull up strainer, and drain, leaving water on the boil. Add hot veg to dressing and stir.

Add the ziti to the boiling water. Add chopped scallion and chicken to the bowl and toss to mix thoroughly. When ziti has reached your personal degree of toothsomeness, drain and add, still steaming to the bowl, with 1/2 of the fresh herbs. Toss. Cool and rest several hours in fridge. Just before serving with some crusty bread, a glass or wine, or some cold water, toss in the rest of the herbs and grind black pepper over. This was sooo good. The mint and basil are very major.

Comments

[Julie]

That sounds completely wonderful. I read the recipe and description, looked at the picture, and thought, that's what I want to eat right this minute!

[mzn]

I love how that sounds and looks. "Elliptical coins" makes me think of those machines in touristy places that squich pennies into ovals and imprint a stamp on them.

Your cornish hen led me to your miniature boiled dinner post, which I had not read before and which is also fantastic.

[Tanvi]

I agree with Julie- this is what I want to eat right now! I usually use fresh peas in mine but favas sound wonderful, too.

[Kimberly]

Oh, Lindy, how wonderful this sounds! I've never cooked favas, but just saw some at Pike Place today. I'll have to go back and see if they're local. And find locally made pasta... there must be someone who sells it at the market.

[lindy]

Julie-This sort of thing really feels right for the beautiful real spring we've been having this year. I can't remember the last time we had a real spring like this!
mzn-I really don't know why, but I prefer to cut carrots this way.
Odd.
Tanvi-I'd use fresh peas too-if I could get any!
Kimberly-I think you will love favas. Remember-unless they are very, very tiny-slip off the inner skin on each bean. The greenest jade green you've ever seen!