Not Your Mama’s Caprese
A long, long time ago in a city far, far away I used to work in an office every day. At this particular job, I worked on the grant management side of things at a foster childrens’ advocacy organization. It was a neat-o organization where I got to spend time with a lot of young, energized colleagues. But, as usual, I didn’t love the work. Partially because, in this particular place, my office was windowless and located just across the hallway from the bathrooms, giving me an up-to-the-minute understanding of everyone’s bathroom habits. For example, our executive director entered the bathroom every single morning at approximately 8:45 with the New York Times and a cup of coffee. He’d wave at me on his way in and on his way out. It was, in a word, awkward. Like many offices, I felt caged when I sat at my desk and most of my days revolved entirely around lunchtime and eating out with colleagues. We were close to lots of great restaurants and since food was (Is. Will always be) the center of my universe, planning lunches definitely made the minutes tick by faster.
Keri was one of my most constant lunchtime companions, and it’s safe to say our favorite spot was Grapevine Market. It’s a shop that’s since closed (sniffle) and specialized in a well-curated wine collection but also had a phenomenal cheese counter and deli. I tried a few different sandwiches before settling on one that became a favorite, constant, go-to. It was a vegetarian sandwich piled between two thick slices of sourdough bread, juicy pieces of roasted garlic baked right into the dough. Both sides of the bread were slathered with a roasted red pepper hummus that enveloped mixed greens, fat slices of tomato and – the crown jewel – thick slabs of grilled halloumi cheese. Sandwiches were served with a bunch of grapes, and I always grabbed salt and vinegar kettle cooked potato chips. Please check your pulse if you haven’t started drooling. Are you familiar with halloumi, because I’d never heard of it before eating this sandwich. It’s a springy Mediterranean cheese, reminiscent of fresh mozzarella but briney and a little chewy. It holds it’s shape well when grilled and has an oozy yet squeaky crunch when you bite down. Does that make any sense? Just trust me on this one. We used to sit in a corner of that place devouring artisinal sandwiches, scheming about our plans into graduate school and possible work at the legislature or other such “world-changing” kinds of work (eye roll). Hey kid – we both did it – huh? Sort of. Because I’m not working at the legislature and because I ended up pushing aside some of those goals hatched early, I’m now faced with a fridge filled with gallons of milk on a daily basis. Last week I flipped through a cheese book until I fell on a halloumi recipe. Halloumi! The cheese that supported me through two years of a boring job! I made a batch and griddled a few slabs, then looked around for the perfect accompaniment. I had no hummus or garlic sourdough bread, but the bowl of tomatoes from the garden overfloweth. After slicing a few of those, I pulled a handful of basil from the herb pots and piled it on top of the grilled halloumi, drizzled the jumble of food with olive oil and balsamic.
I guess it’s sort of a caprese salad, minus the fresh mozzarella. It’s definitely not the Savior Sandwich from days of yore, but biting down onto a piece of squeaky, salty halloumi sent me spinning back many years to that little table with Keri. Gossiping about exit strategies, fairly certain lots of big things were in store for us, without any idea how far from a path I would deviate. Life is strange and funny this way. And definitely too short not to eat more halloumi.
What
–3 or 4 thick slices of halloumi cheese. You can find this cheese at a specialty cheese store, a Mediterranean grocery, and often at natural foods stores. (It’s also quite easy to make if you start with fresh, whole milk.)
–2 large, very ripe tomatoes, halved and sliced
–1 handful of fresh basil leaves, washed and torn
–A few drizzles of good olive oil and balsamic vinegar to taste
–Do you love black pepper? Me too, so give your pepper grinder a few good grinds over the salad.
How
Prepare a griddle on your stove top or just use a frying pan. Coat the griddle or pan well with olive oil so that the cheese will not stick. Place the burner on medium heat and add the cheese slices to the pan. Once you see them ooze a bit, flip them for another few minutes until they are to your liking. The cheese should get slightly brown and crisped on the outside if the pan/griddle is well-coated. Slice them into smaller pieces and pile the basil and tomatoes on top. Drizzle on the olive and vinegar, adding the pepper or salt as you like. Eat with a piece of crispy bread and let me know if this isn’t way more exciting then your mama’s caprese salad. It is, right?
I knew it.