it's true. the ugliest fruit at the farmer's market is the sweetest. it seems more pressing than ever to point this out now that i live in l.a.
today i made a tartine with a gnarled nectarine whose face was more blistered than blushed, and which by current standards of beauty should have been hurled in a heap, sequestered from nectarine-kind. it's a good thing fruit doesn't judge.
there are rarely moments when i frequent cliché, but in the case of choosing the nectarine for this ugly tartine, it's what's on the inside that counts.
make a vinaigrette: dice a shallot, macerate in a jar for 10 minutes in balsamic vinegar along with a pinch of salt. add 2 parts olive oil to this one part of vinegar. apply the lid to the jar and shake the dickens out of it till it's emulsified.
toast bread under broiler.
drizzle toast with olive oil.
slice the avo, and lay them over the toast.
tear your basil leaves, and get your dandies into a bowl. toss with the vin. lay it over the avo.
slice your nectarine and lay that over the greens. now drizzle with some of the vin.
eat with a knife and fork, or you can apply a lid and use your hands. but then it won't be a tartine.
I write. I cook. I want A&M's job! Just kidding. No, I'm not. I used to be a professional chef, and while I no longer want to be in a professional kitchen, I could never stop cooking. How cliche that I write and cook, nonetheless, the two marry quite happily and blogging fulfills both of those passions for me with an immediacy that I crave. I would love some day to do it full-time.
I have two blogs at the moment, and I'm developing a third.
Have a look: