This salad was inspired by a trip to the farmer's market last week. Fresh, colorful, and vibrant, it is easy to make on those hot summer nights where the idea of going into the kitchen seems nearly unbearable. It was only after I created it that I'd realized I'd unintentionally reinvented the wheel and made an alternate version of Salade Niçoise. —littleknitter
Peel the potatoes, then cut them into thin wedges about 3/8" thick. Steam or boil them until they are cooked through (alternately, you can steam a handful of baby potatoes, then slice them after they are done cooking). Meanwhile, cut the haricots verts into bite size (1 1/2 inch) pieces and steam until they are just barely crisp-tender. (Don't wait for them to cool - you'll need this salad to be tossed while still warm).
Slice the cherry tomatoes in half, then do the same for the olives.
In a large bowl, add the olives, tomatoes, potatoes, and haricots verts, then toss with the yogurt, chevre, olive oil, lemon juice and dill. If you do this while the haricots verts and potatoes are still warm, the chevre will melt into the yogurt, making a creamy dressing. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
If dressing is too thick, it may be necessary to thin it - you can use a little extra olive oil or some milk for this purpose.
Crumble the salmon so that it flakes, then toss it gently with the salad. You may serve it immediately, while still warm, or the next day as a chilled salad. Enjoy!
My one party trick is that I have a photographic memory when it comes to food. I can not only remember almost every meal that I have eaten in a restaurant ever, down to each individual ingredient and the way it was presented, but I can do the same thing for everyone else who was eating with me. Totally weird, but fun!
Much to my mother's chagrin, my passion for cooking started early. At the age of 5, I was reading a picture book that described (in basic terms) how to make custard - just eggs, milk, and sugar! I waited until my mother went downstairs to put the laundry in the dryer, then promptly dumped an entire gallon of milk into a bowl and cracked two eggs into it. As I was staring into the bowl, contemplating the raw, runny yolks staring balefully back up at me, I was busted by my mother. Instead of going ballistic (ok, she went a little ballistic), she sighed and said "ok, let's use this to make tapioca," thus teaching me an important lesson in salvaging botched food experiments.