I did something really weird last week.

I cracked open one of my cookbooks. And cooked from it. As evidenced here.

That’s right. I didn’t start googling away like a mad woman. I didn’t go to Pinterest, Tasty Kitchen, Food Gawker, or one of the too many blogs I follow. I went to the bookcase I have dedicated to cookbooks, plucked one of those bound things off the shelf, and went browsing away. You know, the kind where you can actually turn a page or two? It was nostalgic and fun.

Aaaand, now I have 27 tabbed pages that need attention. On top of the virtual pile of who-knows-how-many-and-if-you-know-don’t-tell-me recipes I have pinned or bookmarked. If I ever get through that list of things I’m dying to make, I’ll surely have grown another ass.

However, I’ll have also perfected my pie dough-making technique. Surely a win there.

This salad is one of those recipes that jumped out at me and said makethisrightnow! I took some liberties with the actual recipe because it called for this bean salad being served warm and that just really freaked me out.

It’s beans and a salad. That shiz is supposed to be cold, you know? Leave the warm beans to chili. Respect.

Served cold, in my ever-inflated opinion, this dish is far better and yet another perfect spring time dish. It’s perfect for a potluck or a picnic.

In the summer, this will be mind-blowing with your stash of homegrown tomatoes.

I’m already obsessing over the various grilled meats or cheeses you can serve this with and I’m almost convinced that you really can’t go wrong with this salad.

Unless you toss in that last, semi-stale cupcake sitting on your counter.

Blegh!

Everyone one know that even semi-stale cupcakes are best enjoyed alone.

Roasted Tomato and Cannellini Bean Salad
(adapted from Williams-Sonoma Essentials of Healthful Cooking)

1 can (15-ounce) cannellini beans, rinsed and drained
10-12 plum tomatoes, cut into quarters
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon herbs de provence
1/4 cup red onions, minced
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon caper, minced
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
2 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped
salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Line a baking a rimmed baking sheet with foil and arrange the tomatoes on the sheet. Drizzle tomatoes with olive oil and season the tomatoes with the herbs de provence. Roast the tomatoes 30 minutes, until the tomatoes are beginning to shrivel and brown. Allow the tomatoes to cool on the sheet.

In a large bowl, toss the cannellini beans with the onion, lemon zest, lemon juice, and capers. Add the cooled tomatoes,with their juices, to the cannellini bean mixture and toss until combined. Add the parsley and basil. Season with salt and pepper, to taste. Serve or store tightly covered in the refrigerator.

I’ll be 35 years old in May. For the last 34 1/2 years of my life, I’ve hated avocado. Until 6 weeks ago, when I fell head over heels in love with avocado and decided that I will dedicate the rest of my life making up for lost time between me and the avocado.

It’s kinda weird and pretty embarassing and no, I can’t for the everloving life of me explain it. Right now, all I can do is love all over that creamy, dreamy stuff, and I can’t find enough ways to cram it in my pie hole.

Hence, this chicken salad. Not that chicken salad needs any enhancement to make it the cat’s meow. Chicken salad on it’s own is pretty groovy. It’s certainly the highlight of any baby or bridal shower for me. I’ve even got a chicken salad rating system.

Points are deducted for a dressing that’s too loose. Further points are lost if the chicken pieces are too precisely square. I want to see some pieces that are shredded or torn. It makes me imagine someone in the kitchen savagely tearing apart a poached chicken breast with their bare hands. It’s so primal, so strange, yet so right for chicken salad.

Small bits of celery are a definite plus. But keep it small. Bits. Not chunks, ya know. Chunks are gross.

A little bit of dried fruit? Okay, now you’re really starting to impress me. Why haven’t we met before?

Served perfectly chilled, in some sort of carb contraption with a crisp leaf of lettuce? Leave me alone and let me sunbathe in all that salad glory. (Hope you don’t mind that I’m overdue for some waxing, though.)

So, as you can gather, this chicken salad meets all my requirements. AND there’s avocado in there to add a “Sweet Jesus, whatever is in here, I’d like to sleep with it” dimension that only avocado can add.

Oh, but I wish I knew how to quit you. . . .

Avocado Chicken Salad

1/2 an avocado
1 tablespoon lime
1/2 cup mayo
6 tablespoons sour cream
1/2 teaspoon worcestershire sauce
1/2 teaspoon Lawry’s season salt
2 1/2 cups poached or roasted chicken breast, roughly chopped
1/3 cup celery, diced
1/3 cup dried cranberries

Combine the avocado, lime, mayonnaise, sour cream, worcestershire sauce, and season salt in a food processor and process until smooth. Transfer the dressing to a large bowl and fold in the chicken, celery, and dried cranberries until well-combined. Chill in the refrigerator at least 1 hour before serving.

This salad is my version of the Big Bowl.

The Big Bowl is a concept I learned while working in a telemarketing room during college. The Big Bowl was Robert’s lunch and Robert’s dinner. Probably his breakfast, too – I was never there in the mornings and frankly we weren’t all that tight, so I wasn’t quizzing him about his morning meals.

I’m not sure where Robert is nowadays. He was a colorful individual to say the least, with not only a flair for the culinary but also a rap sheet. A lengthy one, in fact.

Anyway, the big bowl is precisely what it sounds to be. It’s a big bowl. Of food. A little bit of this, a little that. It’s a perfect place for leftovers to land and become something fancy for lunch the next day.

It’s also mildly comforting to sit cross-legged on the couch with that big bowl snugly ensconced in your lap, blindly shoveling its contents into your mouth while you watch Entertainment Tonight.

I think.

I’ve never done it before.

I prefer Access Hollywood. Mario Lopez with those yummy, little dimples.

This big bowl is my favorite version, particularly since it seems I always have random bits of rice leftover in the fridge. Any grain will do though.

I’ve got asparagus, yellow pepper, carrots, blue cheese, parsley, a bit of olive oil, a touch of balsamic vinegar in there, too. They’ve had a chance to meet and mingle. Perhaps they’ve had a few drinks. Maybe a few dirty dances. I dunno. I avert my eyes usually.

And while we’re on the subject, I usually toss in whatever leftover protein (steak, chicken, salmon, tofu, you get it) I can corral. It’s healthy. It’s easy. It’s huggable.

Huggable lunches. I like it.

Get on it.

Brown Rice Salad

2 cups cooked brown rice
1/3 cup carrots, diced
1/3 cup yellow peppers, diced
1/3 cup dried cranberries, roughly chopped
10 stalks blanched asparagus, chopped
1/4 cup blue cheese
1 tablespoon parsley, chopped
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar

Toss all the ingredients in a large bowl and chill until ready to serve.

What can I say about this tuna and white bean salad?

Uhh, nothing.

Not because it isn’t just the perfect little bite of refreshing and tangy and spa-like deliciousness we need this time of year. Rather because I am totally brain-dead.

In the last 3 weeks, I packed up half my wardrobe and sent it halfway down the eastern seaboard. I packed up a car and corralled 3 dogs into it, driving 16 hours, landing amongst palm trees, sunshine, and perfect blue skies.

And later, Mr. Hausfrau and I took a new neighborhood and empty house by whirlwind, arranging deliveries and appointments to fill that house with this little decorative touch or that little special piece. Because we had company coming and there was shiz to be done.

And now the house is done, the company is gone and I am D.O.N.E.

Fo real, yallz, I’m tured. Yes, tured. Because I’m too tired to say tired.

But, if you must know more about this salad, it’s cannellini beans and tuna, tossed with a lemony, pesto-infused vinaigrette, a smattering of sundried tomatoes, a touch of onion and parsley. It’s healthy, it’s real and if you eat it on a dainty plate, it has half the calories.

So, I’m going to go pass out by the pool with a dainty plate of this balanced on my boobies. Wish me luck.

Tangy Tuna and White Bean Salad

3 tablespoons lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 15-ounce can cannellini (white) beans, drained and rinsed
1 7-ounce can of tuna, drained
1/4 cup onion, finely chopped
3 tablespoons parsley, chopped
2 teaspoons pesto
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 tablespoons sundried tomato, diced

In a medium bowl, whisk together the pesto, lemon zest, lemon juice, olive oil, and salt.

Add the drained beans, tuna, onion, parsley and sundried tomatoes and toss gently to coat. Refrigerate for 30 minutes to 2 hours to blend the flavors. Serve.

Having said that, a few months ago, I saw a gorgeous curried tuna salad sandwich on Kath Eats. Because the tuna salad is used in her Great Harvest store, she can’t share the recipe for it. I cried a little bit. I softly stroked the image of that sandwich on the screen…told it I was sorry that we could not yet rendezvous. You get the idea.

Well, I must have caught a whiff of muffins baking or gotten distracted by the UPS man bringing me another Piperlime box, because I got over that sandwich like a bad habit.

Okay, end scene.

Last week, I was shaving my legs in the shower and it struck me that I use curry a lot. Normal shower thoughts, right?

And then, I remembered that we were out of tuna. Which was fine, because I was making my pilgrimage to Wegman’s that day. Are you still with me?

And then the dogs all started barking wildly – probably UPS with another Piperlime box. Well bingo, right there, the idea for a curried tuna salad was born.

True story.

If curried chicken salad revs your motors, then tuna is going to really get your knickers in a bunch, especially if you aren’t a big fan of tuna for tasting so fishy. This mixture of mayo, spices, honey, lime, and fruit mellow the flavor of that canned fish into something that, er, tastes like chicken.

I like this between thick, freshly cut slices of some hearty type of bread (whole wheat, multi-grain, anything else that looks like it will imminently move your bowels), but couldn’t resist those adorable mini potato rolls in the picture.

Because I think everything taste better when it’s mini-fied. But, let’s not call it an obsession – just a strong interest

Help.

Curried Tuna Salad

2 7-ounce cans of tuna, drained
1/2 cup apple, diced
1/3 cup celery, diced
1 tablespoon raisins, minced
1 tablespoon dried cranberries, minced
1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 teaspoon lime juice
1/2 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon fresh parsley, minced
1 teaspoon fresh mint, minced
2 teaspoon curry powder

In a medium bowl, flake the tuna, breaking up most of the larger chunks.

In a small bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, lime juice, honey, parsley, mint, and curry powder. Pour the mixture over the flaked tuna and stir to combine. Fold in the apple, celery, raisins, and dried cranberries until everything is equally coated.

Serve or store in the refrigerator in a tightly covered container.

Egg salad is comfort food – that lovely mixture you platter atop a few leaves of crisp, fresh lettuce or smush between two slices bread (Whatever kind that floats your boat. But if you’re using anything other than challah or white bread, don’t talk to me).

It’s not time to be a culinary hero.  Egg salad doesn’t need any chervil to fancy-pants it up.  For Pete’s sake, don’t serve it in those adorable little shot glasses.  And for HEAVEN’S sake, whatever you do, don’t leave out the yolks.  Really people.

Repeat after me:  eggs, mayo, mustard, celery.  Salt and pepper, as you need it.

One more thing – the key to that perfect, unctuous mouthfeel:  grind the yolks up and mix them with the mayo.  You use less mayo and keep all that rich flavor of the yolk.

Who would have ever thought that less mayo is a good thing?

Classic Egg Salad

6 large hardboiled eggs

3 tablespoons mayonnaise

1 teaspoon yellow mustard

1 stalk of celery, finely diced

Peel the eggs and slice 4 out of the 6 eggs in half. Set the 4 egg yolks aside.

Medium dice the remaining 2 eggs with the 4 egg whites. Set Aside.

In a medium sized bowl, combine mayonnaise, mustard and the reserved egg yolks, mashing the yolks against the side of the bowl and into the mixture until fully incorporated.

Add the diced eggs and celery to the mayonnaise mixture. Fold to combine.  Add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve immediately or cover and refrigerate.