Pea + Mint Avocado Tartine a Year Later

March 15, 2018 by toripintar Leave a Comment

I remember these weeks of 2017 very vividly. I can’t quite put my finger on why but as I walk through them in 2018 I find traces of them around every corner. Maybe it is the daffodils that I have once again filled my home with. Or that this time last year I started going to a gym and one year later I voluntarily continue to go because it’s not really your ordinary gym. Possibly, it’s that this week a year ago, I felt the strongest I had ever on a work out and then bam, my initial adductor injury decided to rear her ugly head. To add further insult to injury I’m able to run even fewer miles now than I was running 365 days ago. Something about those final weeks in March and those first weeks of April feel transformative and meaningful with a year’s worth of reflection and living under my belt. And yet, as I remember them I have remembered them with a sense of sadness. Sadness because sitting here today it is easy to look at my life a year later and feel like nothing has changed, that in some ways, in too many ways, I am either the same or further behind my spring self of 2017.

My inner critic who has far too strong a voice in my head wants to see it that way, especially right now, where so much feels hard and never ending. It wants to tell me the story of how I’m not good enough because: ‘Look, look at the progress of the last 365 days, can’t you see there isn’t very much?’ I could look at it that way. Part of me wants to because I had envisioned myself sitting in a very different place when I was buying daffodils last March. Irregardless of that fact that those thoughts are plain untrue, that isn’t the mindset I want to have. All this thinking that results in me finding the ways I am lacking and not enough. It needs to go. It helps no one. Least of all me. And I have grown, tremendously in some areas. In others I am in the thick of it and all I can really do is throw my hands up in the air and surrender myself to the process, commit to the process and acknowledge it may be sometime before I can really see or measure the growth. Patience has never really been my thing.

Here is the on paper comparison:

Spring 2017

I was injured. But I was able to run my first half marathon.

I was stressed about my weight.

I was stressed about my finances. 10 weddings booked.

I was in a relationship and yet I felt like I was living my own life fully independent of it.

I found I was physically stronger than I believed.

I felt guilty about all the things I had in my life and my ability to travel.

I filled my house with daffodils.

I discovered my love of hot almond milk tea lattes.

I didn’t believe in myself as a photographer.

I wanted to control everything. (But I didn’t know it).

I really wanted to start a blog.

I had this idea about photographing women.

I was really really hard on myself.

I could not get my sourdough bread to properly rise.

I was afraid to be alone.

I wanted to spend more time with my family.

Spring 2018

I am injured. But I have not given up. My resiliency surprises me and makes me proud.

I am stressed about my weight, but I am working hard to take a new, intuitive approach to my health that is really hard but that I deep down believe in.

I am stressed about my finances and yet I am honoring the call to a slower pace this year despite it. 8 weddings booked for the year.

I am single.

Despite all my setbacks in all forms of training I feel like a stronger athlete and person.

I feel less guilt and more gratitude for what I have. I travel guilt free.

I am writing these words surrounded by daffodils.

I am drinking peanut butter hot chocolate as I write these words.

I am more in love with photography than ever. I recognize that it is a part of how I experience this world and my life. And that I have something to offer the photographic world.

I want to control everything (still). But I see it now.

I started this blog and it while it has taken me almost a full year from the first post to actually share here, I believe in my commitment to write and share my story. Or I fake that belief on the days I am filled with doubt.

I am photographing women for a project but I’m afraid that I don’t have the follow through to see the project through.

I am hard on myself but kinder.

I can consistently bake sourdough bread that rises.

I am not afraid to be alone.

My mom and I talk on the phone almost daily. We are closer than ever. This last 365 days has been filled with so much joy because of her.

A very good and very wise friend once told me about her future 80 year old self. They’d already had a conversation about the life this 80 year old woman would be looking back upon. But what this friend pointed out that I had too often failed to consider was that the path to reaching that joy filled slightly eccentric a bit nutty 80 year old self was not linear. Life feels very nonlinear right now. Progress is in the smallest of steps, the slowest of breaths. It’s in the choice to keep fighting, to keep pushing, to keep giving myself grace, to granting myself rest when that need is only as quiet as an itch. It’s the sum of all my choices and not each move on the board because some of them feel like, ‘WTF was I thinking there?’ or ‘I finally know what I am doing’ often in the same day, sometimes the same hour, the same breath. Basically, this feels like a very weird time in my life.

A year ago I made this ‘springy’ avocado toast (which I’m calling a tartine because I love France and feeling fancy and it is an open faced sandwich so that makes it a tartine) with the intent of sharing it on this blog very soon after first consuming it. I made it the first time I went to my gym. It feels right to finally be sharing it a year later as I in some ways live an identically different life these hundreds of days later. One key difference in the recipe is last year I made it on stunted sourdough that I made with my own two hands. This year, it’s made on sourdough I lovingly coaxed into rising and producing an even and moist crumb.

Happy spring friends!

Save Print

Pea + Mint Avocado Tartine

Author: Tori Pintar

Prep Time: 5 mins

Cook time: 5 mins

Total time: 10 mins

Serves: 1

This comes together so easily and if you opt for a poached egg it is quite filling. If you live somewhere where winter tends to hang on the bright mint and frozen peas serve as a reminder that spring is coming. If you can grab a loaf of delicious sourdough from a local bakery it will make all difference. I used Mycopia greens from the Farmer's market which are delicate and delicious but arugula or mache would be great here too. If you go the dairy free route with the cheese, I recommend Kitehill Chive Cream Cheese spread or Treeline Cashew Cheese Scallion Flavor.

Ingredients

¼ cup frozen peas, thawed
¼ large avocado or ½ a small avocado
¼ teaspoon yellow mustard powder
5-8 large fresh mint leaves, divided and thinly sliced
sea salt to taste
thick slice of sourdough bread
goat cheese, ricotta or dairy free spreadable cheese
greens of choice
olive oil
lemon juice
salt and pepper
sunflower seeds, toasted
radish, thinly sliced
poached egg (optional)

Method

Toss your greens with a drizzle of olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper in a bowl and set aside.
Toast your bread in a toaster or on an oiled cast iron skillet flipping to brown each side.
Meanwhile, in a small bowl mash the peas, avocado, mustard powder, half the mint leaves and sea salt with a fork until a rustic mix forms.
Spread toasted bread with your a layer of cheese of choice. Top half the cheese layer with your pea and avocado mixture. Top the other half with your salad greens. Finish with a poached egg if using and sunflower seeds, radish, the remaining mint and a final squeeze of lemon juice.

(Fear of) Taking Up Space & an Everyday Winter Salad for One

March 7, 2018 by toripintar 2 Comments

I still struggle greatly to feel ok about taking up space on the internet. I actually think that it parallels a similar feeling I have in the physical world. I am afraid to take up space. I cannot bear a world with more of me in it, yet that’s what I want. I want to have a voice and tell a story, but I want to do so in a way that does not cause ripples. I want to quietly enter the waters, unannounced and only make a great big splash at just the right moment, when everything is perfect and I have explained myself and everything in just the right way so that there is no chance of misunderstanding, no way to offend, I want to be the embodiment of boldness in the guise of gracefulness. Can we be both and be both well?

I have never been graceful or quiet and actually myself at the same time.

I am graceful in the kindness and understanding I extend to people, especially those who have hurt me, but not in how I move through the world. I might be graceful when I run, but not in the moments of the race that matter most, not in the painful ones where I dig deep and have to verbally coach myself through the final 800 meters, the final minutes where I can feel the tiny fibers of my muscles tearing under the load of physical demand. I am not graceful then and I am not quiet. I am uncoordinated, a bit too loud, extremely talkative, very opinionated, fiery, as passionate about the planet as I am about good sourdough bread and the importance of cake with all the fat and sugar being part of a balanced diet. I am all of these things. I like these things about myself. But I am afraid for other people to really see them and me. Especially as I become more Tori and these things that make up who I am, multiply and take up just that much more room in this world. And there is more me available to the world. And yet, for so many years I have longed to do just that. If I could have any career right now, it would be motivational speaker. I feel like I must have a lot of ego to write that, but it is nonetheless true. If I could tell all my stories, my truths, my pains, share my shame, my suffering, my joys, my loves, my passions, my highest of highs on a stage, I’m pretty sure I would jump at the chance to do it, even if the audience is one.

As a child, we gradually stopped having people over to our house. We lived in a fixer upper and year by year just as many new projects got started as the ones that remained unfinished. As grandparents grew older and some of them died, our possessions grew. They took up space greater than the person who left them ever did and my grandfather George, he took up the whole room. I have always been surrounded by stuff and ‘mess.’ Out of embarrassment, my Mom who knew better than I did in my teens, encouraged me to go to friends houses instead of having them to ours. Gradually, no one came over, at least not without weeks or what felt like months notice so we could prepare and clean and hide the mess that we were.

“And isn’t the whole point of letting others into your life supposed to be that you get to be who you really are rather than who everyone else expects or even wishes or demands you be?” Emily Nunn, The Comfort Diaries: My Quest for the Perfect Dish to Mend a Broken Heart

This past summer after 8 months of living in a new city, in a new home, an incomplete one with little furniture, bare walls, 12 kinds of flour, 10 types of dried beans, a college bed that journeyed all the way from California to Montana that still lives like a college bed on the floor sans box spring, I decided to start letting people into my true messy life. I had been waiting for the perfect moment when everything was clean and done and organized and my home resembled more of the home I felt people expected and demanded of my successful white, middle class self. Instead, I invited people into my little dungeon as I lovingly call it (basement apartment with tiny windows in a state with loooong winter) without an apology for the state of things and the incompleteness of my life. Because I was missing the point and missing out on what I loved most–feeding people at my table.

Reading those words in that book that were previously followed by words about not having people in her new home because it was not ready yet (when are we ever ready for anything, especially anything really good?) I thought of this little home on the internet I’m trying to create and how the same concept basically applies. It is unfinished. It is as bare as the walls in my own home. It has no polish. It has no clearly defined purpose or mission. It has no format. It’s a passion project. It’s a place I hope becomes a home. Yes, I acknowledge that as public space I’m inviting a lot of people into my life who may have plenty of demands and expectations of me that I do not ask for. Those are not the people I am here to serve. They are not the people I write to or really care to join my table both virtual and real.

This space is for those who want to see who I really am and in return feel the freedom to be who they really are. Some days that will be easy to do. Others it will be muddled and confusing. It will be a mess.

Here is a recipe that’s as unfinished as my home on the web, my home in Montana, and as unfinished as I am as a person. I have been thinking about this ‘recipe’ for a month but it’s lack of precision and thus imperfection kept me thinking about it. I have not invited you to my table to eat a simple winter salad of beets and citrus because I was afraid that this all too real way I cook might not translate to your home. I was afraid it was lacking just like I’m afraid all to often that I am lacking. So, if you make this and you don’t like it or you find my lack of specifics frustrating, I am truly sorry about those things. But I’m also not sorry because this is how we learn to cook and sometimes there is so much freedom when formulas are guides and we can pick and choose how we borrow and enhance them for our own needs. The best things, relationships especially are born that way in my experience.

Save Print

My Everyday Winter Salad for One

Author: Tori Pintar

Recipe type: Salad

Ingredients

1-2 steamed or roasted beets, peeled. (I love the color of Chioggia and golden beets and often buy those because their vivid colors brighten even the dullest of winter days. I encourage you to do the same.
1 orange (blood or Cara Cara are my winter favorites) or a Grapefruit (depending on size, you may only need half the segments)
a few gratings of citrus zest (feel free to use a mix)
greens of choice (I love microgreens here or the small tender winter/spring lettuces like mycopia or mache that pop up even in Bozeman. Arugula is another great choice)
maple syrup
vinegar (apple cider is wonderful here, or white balsamic. When using lighter colored beets I avoid regular balsamic because it muddies their beautiful color, but it works in a pinch)
good olive oil, or walnut oil or pumpkin seed oil
herbs of choice, roughly chopped or torn (tarragon, mint or chives or all three)
toasted nuts or seeds of choice (my favorites are pistachios and walnuts)
sea salt
fresh ground pepper

Method

Depending on the size of your beets, quarter them or thinly slice on a mandolin or with a sharp knife. Depending on the day, I will vary the presentation of my beets because I have found that this small variation livens up my meals and the different cuts create different texture and therefore taste. Place cut beets in a small mixing bowl. Grate a few good shavings of your chosen citrus over the beets and set aside. Using a sharp knife, typically a paring knife, cut off the bottom of your citrus so that it sits flat on a cutting board. Working from the top cut ribbons of the peel away including the white pith exposing the beautiful citrus flesh. It’s ok if some of that flesh comes away with your sections of peel. Supreming citrus is a bit of an art and with practice you’ll end up with less flesh on your peel. I’ll warn you that supreming can feel like a tedious task but again with practice the movements will become second nature and you might even appreciate this slowing down and the attention this task requires. Once you have removed all the peel and white pith (if you removed too much of the flesh, do as I do and and suck that delicious fruit off the peel before discarding or squeeze those sections over your bowl of beets to release the juice), while holding the fruit in one hand and your knife in the other, cut each segment away from the remaining pith by making cuts as close to the pith as possible. Do this over your bowl of beets to capture any juice that escapes. Alternately, with really juicy oranges, especially smaller blood oranges that are ripe, I’ll cut them into rounds and pour any juice from the cutting board over the beets as I add the orange slices.
Add a generous pinch of flake salt and a few grinds of pepper to your bowl. Add a splash of maple syrup, vinegar of choice and olive oil to your bowl and toss to combine. Taste and add more of anything you feel lacking. Add your chopped or torn herbs and toss again.
Make a small bed of greens on a plate. Top with your beet citrus mix. Garnish with more herbs and nuts or seeds of choice. Enjoy!

Notes

Additional Inspiration: Add in some avocado for creamy boost of fat, mince a little shallot and add at the same time as your makeshift dressing, add a little full fat greek yogurt or creme fraiche with the dressing, or do all of the above.

Peanut Butter Cup Hot Chocolate

February 11, 2018 by toripintar Leave a Comment

I’ve begun this post about 50 different ways and I’m certain that I have about 50 more ideas hoping for their chance to surface. Apparently, I have a lot to say. Which is a good thing since I want to be a writer and write more and share more of what I write. But it’s also poses a challenge: which words to share today? Which words to share with this particular recipe? Are there right words? Perhaps, sometimes there are. Perhaps sometimes certain things need to go together to form the whole of their potential and perhaps other times we just choose something and we send it out into the universe and move on.

For some reason, this peanut butter cup hot chocolate recipe feels very near and dear to me, like a child I’m birthing into the world, one that deserves just the right preamble. It’s a representation of so many things I love, and so many facets of the 30 something woman I have grown into and am really getting to know.

It’s an embodiment of my love of mornings, a love I’ve only been able to put into practice for the last two-ish years yet this habit feels like a tangible marker, a notch, a worn indent, that I can touch and neatly see: Before and After. At some point, I hope I can see that it was me all along.

It feels like a representation of the forgiveness I’m seeking towards myself right now and the acceptance of myself that is growing day by day. This morning as I drove through the cold smoke surrounded by the blue only available in predawn winter mornings I felt that forgiveness and acceptance gain a millimeter of footing within me. There was an exhale and the space of that breath is now occupied by just a little more love for myself.

It feels indulgent. Luxurious. Like the simplest and brightest moments of my daily life do. Because I didn’t know I could have it so good.

It feels soothing and safe–places I’m currently seeking out quite often as I also go through a season of change where so much feels so hard. I often think, wow, I didn’t know it was going to be this hard. Or why is this so hard? Or how can it be so good and so hard at the same time?

And it is quiet and expansive. Two things I crave daily no matter where I am in the world. Two words that I’m beginning to recognize are not only a craving but also a necessity for this season of change.

In the end I have said everything I’ve previously written and none of it at all. But these words feel right. They feel like they capture a little piece of why I’m here taking up this space on the Internet and why I want you to be able, if you choose, to make this simple cup of childlike thick hot chocolate too.

Save Print

Peanut Butter Cup Hot Chocolate

Author: Tori Pintar

Recipe type: Drinks

Cook time: 5 mins

Total time: 5 mins

Serves: 1, 12 oz drink

For me, this is an everyday beverage that drinks like an indulgent treat. I often drink it in the morning with my breakfast, as a late afternoon snack if I've had a big training day, or as an after dinner dessert. Inspiration for this drink comes from my childhood love of Reese's and my friend Jen who was the first to suggest adding peanut butter to coffee.

Ingredients

1 cup plant based milk
½ cup water*
2 tablespoon cacao or cocoa powder
1 heaping tablespoon peanut butter (my favorite brand is field day organic)
1 medjool date, pitted (or substitute 1-2 teaspoons maple syrup)
¼ teaspoon cinnamon
Hefty splash of vanilla
Pinch of Salt
Optional: 1-2 teaspoons of maca powder, 1-2 teaspoons of ground flax

Method

Add all ingredients to a small sauce pan and heat over medium heat until the milk is quite warm and almost simmering.
Add everything to a high speed blender and blend on high for 1-2 minutes until the date is fully incorporated.

Notes

If you don't have a blender, swap the date for maple syrup and whisk until everything is combined and a little frothy.
*You could reduce the plant milk to ¾ cup and add ¾ cup coffee for a peanut butter cup mocha. It's delicious too.

33 at the Top of a Mountain: Finding Levity in Imperfection

December 11, 2017 by toripintar Leave a Comment

I wanted them to be magical birthday miles. They were not. But, I ran them anyways. I stayed committed to them, took them slowly and tried to shake off too little sleep and too much birthday wine from the night before. I wanted to reach the top.

I ran up a mountain on my birthday. By choice. I realize this is a not so humble brag, but I take pride in this fact. 32 was the first year I did a true mountain trail run. The first time I ran up Stone Creek I was afraid. I’d never attempted something like that as a runner. Sure I’d run some hills, some steeper roads with continuous ascent, but never 5 miles of consistent and real elevation gain. Would I have to walk? Would it be difficult? Could I do it? Why did I sign up for a race that I had no experience in? It was only four short weeks a way the first time I attempted anything like the 24 mile mountain race I had voluntarily signed up for. That first trail run was unexpected. It was magic. The trail was incredibly runnable. I liked the continuous ascent. I found bursts of energy in the flatter patches. The lightness of running that feels like flying came over me. So this is trail running, I thought. I was made for this. I was meant to be here on this mountain range. I will never forget that run. I will never forget what I found at the top. Literally, it is one of the most beautiful places I have been in all of my adventures and it’s maybe one of the views I most earned. Not because I ran up a mountain, though there is that too, but because of all the things I had done to be in that spot. It was a series of life choices and doing of the hard things and so much more that brought me to the top of Stone Creek early that Sunday morning, carried only by my own two feet to stand alone and see the world stretch out before me.

Standing at the top of one of my favorite places in the world, I looked out at a view I had not seen since July 1st. It was different. Quieter. Browner. Golden. Was there still snow? There was smoke. But I could still make out the mountains. My imperfect body, one that had struggled with injuries, had carried me up those miles and those few thousand feet on August 19th. It was not a perfect run. Far from it. But I showed up. I did it anyways.

“I am imperfect and that’s ok.”

Those words filled my head as I paused to take in the mountains and valleys and all the life that filled my vision in every direction. For a brief moment I believed them. I stopped measuring myself and every move I’d made that day, that week, that year. My heart really really felt them. Tears dared to fill my eyes. Life felt too good, like it was offering too much wonder and joy and peace for one human to feel. And with the quickness that it came, levity retreated. But I remember how it felt. It’s the same lightness I can find in running. It doesn’t always come around as much as I want but I think I can make it come around more. It’s a lightness that isn’t exclusive to being fit and following a training plan perfectly. Instead, it’s created from the practice of running happy, fully and in the moment. And we could easily swap living with the word running. Because that lightness, it’s the lightness I’m chasing with my life. The kind that makes you want to lay down in the dirt and feel all the little pieces of sand, clay and rock and touch with as much of your living body as much of the living world as possible.

Beginnings and a Montana Spring Salad

April 10, 2017 by toripintar 2 Comments

For a brief period of time I had a Tinder account. It started as a joke. A distraction. A lightness in the midst of a great heaviness. I’m someone you might not expect to have a Tinder profile and I think the taboo of it is what drew me to it. All the swiping left and right was fun but I wasn’t actually going to use it. Except then I did. Because between all the ab pictures (which were a definite swipe left) I also found a large number of individuals like myself seeking real connection.

A Tinder profile, for those not familiar is comprised of a few pictures and a very brief character count to summarize who you are. With my ration of words, I chose a few to highlight my cooking abilities. Thus the most common conversation starter I received from my would be dates was, ‘What’s the best thing you can cook?’ My answer: ‘salad.’ As you can imagine, that immediately led to countless first dates. Every man, especially the hunters and cold smoke seekers that populate south west Montana, want to eat really good salad. But it’s true. I make really great salads. (Most of the time).

Salad also happens to be one of the first areas of cooking where I began to take chances and use my imagination. I remember the first time I made a garlic balsamic vinaigrette. As I slowly whisked the olive oil into the vinegar I witnessed my first emulsion in the making. It was magic. The simplest of recipes but this was 15 or more years ago when there was no Instagram and foodies were those who wrote for Bon Apetit, not every middle class millennial. I remember the first time I candied pecans for a salad. I remember gathering pomegranates from the trees at the end of the drive and seeding them and tossing those in with the pecans. That salad was magic and unlike anything I’d eaten before.

Since much of my journey with food began with greens, a good dressing and the right toppings I felt it was a good foundation for this space. I’ve written countless first drafts. But I never shared them. Some were deep with bits and pieces of my life story. One was about running. There was a lot of vulnerability. Others were explanatory: here’s why I’m throwing my voice in with the countless others already taking up space on the worldwide web. Or why I deserve a place. I decided that no explanation is required for creative projects, especially one you’ve been thinking about for over seven years. Finally, when I started writing about Tinder and one of my go-to salads of the last year, I knew I’d landed on a winner.

This salad is one of my favorites. I typically have all the dressing ingredients on hand and the base is so versatile you can top it with what’s in season and what’s on hand. This specific recipe also features what have become one of the secret weapons in my kitchen—fresh herbs. I used to buy cilantro and maybe some basil at the store to make Caprese salad with. I’d only branch out to Italian parsley, oregano, dill etc. when I had a recipe in mind that required a specialty herb. Enter, Date Night In and a certain avocado salad found within it’s pages that’s literally avocados with a cup of fresh herbs and it serves two. My eyebrow raised at the reading of one cup. And I know that I shied far away from the full cup the first time I made it. But not the second, or the third, or the fourth. And my fridge was changed forever. There’s always an assortment of fresh herbs waiting for me.

Back to the salad we’re actually making today which is an adaptation of another ‘herby’ salad recipe from Ashley Rodriguez’s book. (Please go visit her beautiful and inspirational site, it’s truly one of the best out there, and I’ll be mentioning her again). It’s the perfect back pocket recipe for company or when you want to dress up a weeknight meal. It comes together easily. The dressing makes extra which you’ll definitely be happy about, and this version represents how I feel about spring in Montana—winter just doesn’t want to let go. The herbs and butter leaf lettuce paired with the shallot dressing are an ode to the reawakening of spring, but the grapefruit and watermelon radishes are the footholds of winter. It’s fitting that on this April day it’s snowing in Montana.

Welcome to this little place of mine. I’m so glad you’re here.

Save Print

Not Quite Spring Salad

Author: Tori Pintar

Recipe type: Salad, Appetizer

Serves: 4 as a starter

Ingredients

Dressing
1 tablespoon minced shallot
2 teaspoons honey
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard (I typically add extra because I love this flavor)
2 tablespoons full fat Greek yogurt*
2 tablespoons Champagne vinegar
Juice of one medium lemon, Meyer if you can get one
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
Salad
1 head butter leaf lettuce, leaves removed and carefully torn into large pieces
1 small-medium watermelon radish, thinly sliced (I use a mandoline) or substitute 3 red radishes
1 grapefruit, pith removed and sectioned
1 avocado, quartered and thinly sliced
Heaping ½ cup of chopped assorted fresh herbs (I used dill, mint and tarragon, but parsley, cilantro, and basil are also wonderful)
2 tablespoons shelled toasted pistachios, roughly chopped
Flake sea salt (Maldon is my favorite brand)
Freshly ground black pepper

Method

Make the dressing: Whisk together the shallot, honey, mustard, yogurt, vinegar and lemon juice until combined. Continue whisking as you gradually add the olive oil. Add salt and pepper. Taste and add more seasoning as needed.
Assemble the salad: Put lettuce leaves into a large bowl and toss with ¼ cup dressing. Add more dressing as needed.** Arrange the leaves on four plates. Top with the herbs, reserving some for the final garnish. Next top with grapefruit segments and ¼ avocado per plate. Continue topping with radish slices, more herbs and a sprinkle of your pistachios. Finish with a sprinkle of flake salt and a few grinds of fresh cracked pepper. Serve immediately so your beautiful lettuce does not wilt.

Notes

This recipe is adapted from "Date Night In" by Ashley Rodriguez.

*Another great option would be an Icelandic Skyr type yogurt such as Siggi's. For those looking for a dairy free option, I have yet to try this with a non-dairy yogurt but bear in mind that the thickness of Greek yogurt is what makes this dressing. If you go the non-dairy route I would try a coconut yogurt like Coyo that is oh so creamy.
**This recipe makes more dressing than you'll need and you'll be happy about the leftovers. I recommend starting by adding less dressing and add more as needed. Butter lettuce has a delicate leaf that we want to preserve and this is a thicker dressing. You don't want to miss out on the flavor though, so your leaves will be weighed down a bit. I recommend tasting a leaf to determine if you have enough dressing before proceeding.

Skip links