Greater Than These Parts
So, imagine if you will, me on a slightly balmy late afternoon in Charleston South Carolina, on a you-have-no-idea-how-bad-I-need-this, getaway. My husband and I found a little 3-day window to escape, and we took it. Everyone kept asking me why I chose Charleston, and my answer was, “It just seems swollen with pleasure and indulgence” and that right there, pleasure and indulgence, were exactly what I needed.
We got in late our first night due to flight delays, so we slept in a little the next morning. The husband is an earlier riser than I so he popped out to grab a nubbin for breakfast while I slowly moved about our hotel room, gazing out the window, watching the trees across the street bend in the impregnated breeze. A few quick bites of my hunter gather’s findings and we were ready for our first stop of the day, a local wine bar we had read about of course.
After a couple, ahem, glasses, (or bottles) we felt that ever telling grumble, it was time to eat. Relaxed, away from work, strolling the streets of Charleston, sultry feeling of tingling moisture as a thin bead of sweat slowly rolled down my back as we walked through the front door of Leon’s Poultry & Oyster Shop, a suggestion from the bartender at the wine bar we had just spent way too many hours in.
Leon’s is locally famous and notoriously difficult to get into, though it is a very casual and chill spot. Locals just know where to get the good eats and drinks and a place that basically does fried chicken and oysters in various forms, along with grower Champagne, (that’s right, you heard me, grower Champagne! Any wonder why I wanted to go?) and specialty cocktails, many of which were swarthy with Bourbon and sweet smelling tonics. Exactly how I thought Charleston would smell, fried chicken, briny oyster shells, brown sugar with a sting of spirit on the back. I was in heaven. As if it were meant to be, we had arrived in that little window between major feasting, when there were plenty of tables open, taking a breather before the next swarm of bubble, Bourbon, chicken and oyster hive would return.
Leon's Grower Champagne Menu
Now, I am not sure what came over me when it came to order. I selected my grower Champagne, even ordered a glass of frozen Rose for kicks and after my husband ordered some fried chicken these words fell out of, what had to be my traveled addled face, “I’ll have the celery salad” it might have been in my own head, or the sound of my husband’s utter shock, but I swear I heard every utensil in the dinning room drop. “Celery salad? Did I just say celery salad?!” what was happening? Had he humidity puddled my brain? I’m in the house of fried chicken and oysters, in the south, and I order a fucking celery salad? I assumed I was in the middle of a literal melt down, took a long sip of my Champagne and waited for….. my celery salad.
I think the best word for it was, derailed. I was derailed. Just absolutely and gleefully derailed by just how perfect this stoopid salad was. Not fussy, the opposite in fact, it was perfect for its unassuming and comforting simplicity. Like a truly gorgeous southern woman wearing no makeup, just glowing, framing the natural beauty. What a few minutes before seemed like some sweaty old lady brain burp ended up, honestly, being one of the best things I tasted the entire trip.
Celery salad, who would have thunk? I came home and recreated the salad as best as I could, which was pretty much dead on, just to see if it had been one of those vacation crushes, you know, you fall madly in love while away but find things are hugely different when you get back to, “real life”. Yeah, it wasn’t. This was meant to be. Now you might, (most likely will) want to make adjustments or leave something out, do not do it. Trust me. I am not a lover of dates and always swap them out for raisins or pickled raisins when a recipe calls for them….this shan’t happen with this salad, ever. It needs to be all of those sums to make the exquisitely simple salad shine. You can wiggle a little with quantities to make it yours. Hell, I don’t put measurements anyway, but do include all of the things if you want to truly see why I was shook. Or it might just prove I am a big old weirdo but, I made it for the staff and some friends since and everyone has a similar reaction, “How do these parts make this sum?” and I hope you too find a little derailment, in that good way, we can all use a little simple pleasure and nice surprises. Have fun!
I of course have no exact measurements, and play around with proportions. See what pleases you best but this is a basic salad so no need to worry too much. Plus, the more times you play with it the more compelling it is.
My recreation of Leon's Celery Salad
1 Bunch Celery sliced thinly
6-8 cups Arugula (I rough chop mine but I always do as I am convinced that arugula is trying to kill me. I choke on a long piece nearly every time if I don't chop)
8-12 Medjool Dates, seeded and chopped into quarters
1/2 Cup Roasted Pistachios, rough chopped
6-12 OZ Milton Dairy Prairie Breeze Cheese, cut into thinner cubes (Prairie Breeze is one of my all-time favorite cheeses, from the U.S. or otherwise. It's Cheddar like but with a more caramelized flavor which is utter perfection in this salad, among other things)
Dressing
4-8 Cloves of garlic, grated
2 Lemons, zest from one and juice from both
Corsini Olio Olive Oil, just over as much as you have of the lemon juice. So, if you use 1/2 lemon juice you will need just over half a cup of olive oil.
Salt & Pepper, to taste
Splash of water, about a tablespoon. This is to just mellow out the dressing ever so slightly. I love a punchy dressing but this one, hold back a little so you can taste each thing playing off of each other. Dammit.....now I want to make this tonight, again.
Looking for a couple suggestions for wines to play nicely with this haunting salad? Think bright and not oaky for sure, but something with some weight, like Loire Valley Chenin Blanc is brilliant with this.
Roland Schmitt Pinot Gris
Canorgue Blanc
Champalou Vouvray
Chidaine Clos du Breuil Montlouis
Le Loup Rose
Piron Rose