Recipes are back! Since transitioning to nomadic life I haven’t felt called to really explore in the kitchen much, instead taking advantage of the local offerings. We shall change that!
Not this week, though, as this is my go-to lunch several days of the week.
Now as always, the story I am about to tell you is VITAL to crafting this dish.
Once upon a time, a young adult (me) was wandering around a market’s produce section trying to convince myself that, “Yes, buy the spinach bag! This time you will eat it all before it wilts for sure. You WILL properly prep and store it and it will last.”
Ah, how the whimsical mind lends to delusion.
While I was juggling the guilt of that possibly poor financial decision— due to a small budget, the knowledge of my reoccurring habit to do exactly not that, and the desire to eat healthy my eyes landed upon a discount sign for Fennel. A pretty bulb that I was unfamiliar with screaming cottage-core aesthetic (big at this time). I knew I liked fennel seed— I was partial to aromatic flavors in general. I had yet to meet a starchy dish not improved with caraway. The bulb though— no idea what that was going to be like. But it was on sale, 2 for $2! My only worry was that it would be more akin to a turnip, and better roasted than fresh, which was not a sector of my diet I needed to build out at that time.
A quick google and pinterest search later (I love wasting time looking things up while in a market, half of my best searches occur in those isle), I did learn that there was a rather simple and popular salad with fresh fennel. So I made the risky investment of $2 and put the spinach back.
Best. Decision. Ever.
No truly. Life altering hyper-fixation meal now running 2+ years strong.
Simple, cheap, very flavorful on it’s own, no extra dressings needed beyond some normal s&p/EVOO/lemon. AND if I’m ever not in the mood for a salad for several days in a row (heavens forbid) fennel will not betray and wilt like spinach. It sticks around. I love me a low maintenance relationship veg.
The only tricky part is, despite being a staple in my basket for years, I will unfailingly forget at checkout that it is keyed in under its alter-ego “anise” (even though that indeed is a different plant).
Due to the silly name discrepancy, it’s simple nature in make but pack of flavor, and its constant place in my meal rotation; the whimsical spin my brain put on it is that it is a staple provision in an elvish army somewhere, similar to that of Lembas bread. A trusty nutritional staple that would not have made its way here without a tight budget and a toxic relationship with spinach those years ago.
Then a bunch of other stuff happened, and now we’re here. That’s the lore.
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1 bulb fresh fennel, thinly sliced (fronds reserved)
1 green apple thinly sliced
Handful of fresh dill and/or fennel fronds, chopped
Shaved parmesan or pecorino
Olive oil
Lemon juice
Salt & cracked pepper
Optional: dollop of stoneground mustard
Prep produce
Just toss it all together. Honestly that’s it.
(Some tavern keeps would say to let it sit for a bit to let the fennel soften, but I’m partial to the crisp nature of it so I say dig in)
Huzzah. Another cheap and simple recipe—with the added benefits of easily stored produce. Meanwhile Gertrude has a bag of spinach molding in her ice box as we speak. Another toxic cycle between unreliable veg enabled by an aspiring salad luncher. Get it together, Gertrude.