Things on a Plate: fig-pecan-molasses or apricot-pistachio-honey salad plates.

Every summer, my personal food choices seem to degenerate into a category best described as “some things on a plate.” I don’t know if it has more to do with bountiful produce, bountiful heat, or bountiful laziness, but it happens, and it’s happened every summer since I was a child. Perhaps it’s embedded in my genes, because everyone in my family seems to be afflicted.

I suppose “degenerates” is a bit harsh. Summer may exemplify food at its most honest point: bare, largely uncooked, with bold flavor and color all over the place. We don’t seem to care much, either: we scatter herbs, rough-chop vegetables, shove meat on a stick and grill it until whenever, and make pitchers of drinks because who has the energy to make individual cocktails? No one. Galettes abound, because they are the embodiment of how summer feels: golden, flat, and sweet. Also, everyone seems like a rustic Kinfolk hipster when they trot out a freshly-handcrafted galette at a dinner party, but that goes without saying; extra cool points given if the fruit comes from their own garden.

Whatever the reason, Things on a Plate is in full swing here at the abode. Soon enough, it’ll be autumn, which – for me – squishes me back into my very comforting and welcome routine of preschool delivery and pickup, writing, some house projects, and weekend football on the television. I will see less things on plates and more actual thought-out meals, and I will eat at normal times again, mostly because I won’t keep doodling around because it’s still light out and then realize that it’s 8:30 pm.

Before all that happens, I thought I’d share some ideas for things on a plate with you. Neither of these need to be strictly followed: they hopefully serve as foundations for you to build on, or as inspiration for other things you could assemble. These follow, I imagine, some basic universal rule of what humans enjoy: greens with a little vinaigrette thrown on them, vibrant fruit, crunchy nuts, creamy cheese, perhaps a little meat, and some crusty, toasted bread thrown in for good measure, and maybe a little drizzle of flavor to finish the whole thing off. Sure, you could meticulously craft a salad from all that, but why, when you could just throw it on a big (or some little) plates and have at it? I know what I’d rather do.

Two things I’ve been obsessing over this past month have been figs and apricots. There is no more luxurious time of year than the month when both of those things are filling up market baskets; you can have your short-season blood oranges and Meyer lemons, but leave my figs and apricots, please. The plates are similar, more to show you what can be done in terms of variation:

First up, the fig version. What you see before you is some crusty sourdough (I have a thing for it) alongside baby arugula tossed in a simple vinaigrette. A generous scoop of fresh ricotta, some ribbons of proscuitto, fresh black mission figs, and some toasted pecans surround it, and the whole thing gets drizzled with a little molasses and seasoned with a wee bit of sea salt and fresh pepper.

Now, you could do anything with it from there: add and subtract as needed, or make substitutions based on what you like. Crisp that pancetta, swap regular molasses for pomegranate molasses (delicious; try it), let goat cheese stand in for the ricotta, or try walnuts – even hazelnuts – instead of the pecans. Give it a more savory bite by making a Dijon vinaigrette versus a straightforward vinegar/oil version. Whatever.

Next up, the apricot version. Same bread, vinaigrette-slicked arugula, salty proscuitto, and creamy-soft ricotta, but with fresh apricots, chopped pistachios, and a little honey over top. Pomegranate molasses would work nicely here as well, if you wanted a little tartness, and pine nuts would be delicious as a stand-in for the pistachios, as would pecans or walnuts. Or maybe the vinaigrette takes on the pomegranate molasses and you leave the honey as/is; a lemon vinaigrette would do nicely as well. Again, whatever you want: it’s your thing on a plate.

And as I mentioned above, this can be on one big platter versus individual plates, and that just makes it easier for you to assemble; pile things in bunches and let everyone dig in as you sit around the table and chat. Conversational pairing for these? Try discussing how quickly summer seems to have gone, and how much you’re going to miss it, but how much you’re looking forward to fall at the same time; this food and that discussion go hand in hand.

Some Things On a Plate (a foundational recipe set)

each version makes approximately 4 servings. and remember: this recipe is made to be messed with, so play around with some of the things I suggested above, or create your own whole new thing.

for the vinaigrette:

• 1/2 cup good-quality olive oil
• 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
• sea salt and fresh ground black pepper

for the fig-pecan version:

• 1 baguette, sliced at an angle (oven toasted* or grilled** is great, but optional)
• 4 to 5 oz arugula or baby arugula (rocket)
• 1/2 cup ricotta
• 12 figs, preferably black mission, halved
• 1/2 cup ricotta
• 6 oz proscuitto, in ribbons
• 1/3 cup toasted pecans, roughly chopped
• 1/2 tablespoons molasses, for drizzle
• sea salt and fresh ground black pepper

for the apricot-pistachio version:

• 1 baguette, sliced at an angle (oven toasted* or grilled** is great, but optional)
• 4 to 5 oz arugula or baby arugula (rocket)
• 1/2 cup ricotta
• 3 to 4 small apricots, sliced
• 1/2 cup ricotta
• 6 oz proscuitto, in ribbons
• 1/3 cup pistachios, roughly chopped
• 1/2 tablespoons honey, for drizzle
• sea salt and fresh ground black pepper

*toasting bread sliced depend entirely on the bread itself, so consider these rough guidelines. Lightly brush your bread slices with olive oil, season with a little salt and pepper, and place in a pre-heated 400˚F oven for 5 minutes or so. Check them; if they’re not getting golden underneath, leave them in for a few more minutes. Once they’re almost how you like them, flip them over and toast for a few more minutes.
**grilling depends on both bread and grill, so I’m winging these instructions. Brush your bread slices lightly with olive oil and place over indirect heat on your grill for a minute or two until you start to see toasty grill marks. Flip and repeat.

Make the vinaigrette:

Simple: Add the vinegar to a medium bowl and grab a whisk. As you whisk the vinegar, slowly stream in the olive oil until the mixture emulsifies. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

Make [either version] of this salad plate:

As I said above, this works great when plated individually or on one big platter, family-style; use my photos above as a rough diagram of how you want things to be, but there’s no right or wrong here. First, toss the arugula with a few spoonfuls of the vinaigrette, until the leaves are slicked but not soggy. Lay on the plate(s). Add the proscuitto, ricotta, and fruit of choice to the plate(s), in whatever manner you choose. Sprinkle the nuts over top of the whole thing. Alternatively: make sections for the nuts, or just sprinkle them close to the cheese and fruit: depends on what everyone likes. Drizzle everything with either the honey or molasses, tuck the bread slices around it all, and season with sea salt and fresh ground black pepper. Serve immediately.