Survival salad

Well, that WAS an interesting time there, wasn't it, ragazzi on the Northeast?    Annalena is still recovering from it, in the mental and psychological sense.  Her power is back on, lights are on, there's hot water, heat in the apartment, and the trains are pretty much here again.  But the memories of that week will "linger," although Annalena would prefer to use the word "fester."  In her 55 years on this planet, the lady has never experienced anything like that.  Walking up and down twelve flights of stairs, up to six times a day was less an inconvenience than one would think.  Flushing the toilet once a day, with two gallons of water, was moreso.  Listening to the empty news reports was frustrating, as was realizing that she and the Guyman had not prepared properly for this.    Tossing out thawed meat that had cost her a small fortune was sad, but needed to be done, and Annalena did it ruthlessly.   

Everyone has his or her breaking point, and to be honest, Annalena's came at a very odd point.  She and the Guyman had had dinner in midtown,  since they assumed that their neighborhood was, essentially, closed.  She had ordered a car to pick them up afterwards, because cabs were scarce.  The car never appeared.  A frantic call to the company (who will not be named), indicated they had lost the reservation, but could send a car "in 1-3 hours."    Really?    Anyway,  the  Guyman and Annalena found a cab, and the image, upon arriving home, of power and light two blocks away, but not for her, sent Annalena over the edge.  It truly did.  She's not proud, but not sorry.  Everyone has theirs.

Ok, enough of that.  To food.  Annalena's oven was out of service for the duration, but her cooktop is gas powered, so  she and the Guyman ate well.  They ate very well.    But with nothing to buy at the markets, there came a time where Annalena began to be stumped.  This salad, born from what was in the house, turned out to be much better tasting than it has any right to be.  In fact, it is so good, that we will have it again.

Calling it "survival salad" is too dramatic, but it will get you to read this.  It's a good salad.  Annalena wants you to make it.  Please.

You start with cherry tomatoes.  Half them, and then look at how many you have.  This is how you will measure the two next ingredients, which are green olives, and celery.  You want half as much of each of these, as you have tomatoes.  For green olives,  ragazzi, we do NOT use olives from a can, and we do NOT use pitted olives.  (Although Annalena will admit that pitting olives by candlelight is an interesting sport).  Crush the olives with your big knife, and don't worry about the shape they're in.  Toss them in a bowl, with the cherry tomatoes.  Now, celery.  Smaller ribs, please.  Cut thin half moons of the stuff, to a quantity equal to the olives.  And, finally, one large red or pink grapefruit.  Peel it, segment it, and mix it in with all of the other ingredients.  Now, make a dressing.  Mustard, please.  White vinegar, and olive oil.  Heavier on the olive oil than you might think, because you are getting acid from the grapefruit.   Taste, and salt as you need  (and in a stressed situation, you will want more).

This is delicious.  The ingredients are available just about always, so while we can call it local with farmers market tomatoes (still there!), you can make it any time of year.  It also keeps well in the refrigerator, even one that doesn't work, and tastes great on toasted bread as a left over.

Enjoy it, ragazzi!  Annalena hopes that everyone who experienced this traumatic event, learned something from it.  She also hopes that all of you did something good for someone else during the week, because if you did, it will come back to you.  It did for Annalena.