Hello! I can’t stick around for long today as I have a plane to catch later and there’s still packing to do and I just spent an unacceptable amount of time watching bridal photoshop videos for no reason at all. But, this week’s lunch recipe is a good one, so I hope that makes up for it.
Beguiling blood oranges - I think they are my favourite flirty fruit, and you know what I mean, there’s that category of fruit that appears for just a week a year or something. They whisper delicious promise and as soon as you reach out for one, oops too slow. They are the epitome of look don’t touch, and blood oranges are the leader (figs, damsons, quince, you’re all in there too, and so are the non-fruit representatives wild garlic and elderflower. I curse the lot of you.)
I had abandoned the hope of finding any blood oranges this year, and then, of all places, my local Lidl sold them in packs of four. This is a Lidl that doesn’t even sell fresh milk, just UHT because for some reason, the French love it. Don’t get me started. But blood oranges, they were in stock.
So, naturally, I bought them then took them home and stared at them for a few days. I honestly had no idea what to do with them. It had all built up to such a crescendo, blood oranges were here in my home and now I could barely think straight. There was a boy at school my friend Suzie and I christened Khaki (all the boys we fancied were colour-coded), and most of the time I just ogled him across the student common room. Then that one time he and I were actually sitting together and were within the bounds to have a conversation, I just sat there in a panicked sweat, mumbling something incoherent then laughing in a much higher tone than usual when he asked a question. That feeling resurfaced with these blood oranges. Even the high-pitched laughter.
Eventually, I settled on some blood orange cakes with caramel, cardamom and ginger, and mid-way through baking, as I raided the as-always-near-empty fridge for my lunch, I pulled out my only option. Beetroot.
Beetroot might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but here its earthy sweetness is lifted by the fresh orange. And when mozzarella gets involved, I could even choke down endive (a new discovery for me and one I can’t say I liked very much). Of course, if beetroot is to you what broccoli and sprouts are to a toddler, I get it and you can trade it for asparagus, or make it into a leafy salad with watercress.
Dare to get creative with this salad, these are the bare bones - I sprinkled some flaked almonds on top but if you have walnuts or pecans, try them instead. I also dug out some red cabbage and anchovies, so my lunch was very colourful and pungent indeed, but deliciously so, especially when I scooped up some oily mozzarella onto some baguette, then wiped the plate of all the orange juice, anchovy oil and oregano with a last piece of crust.
With this salad which I ate twice in two days and the blood orange cakes, all the blood oranges were gone just like that. Which is probably for the best, their presence were stressing me out.
Blood Orange, Beetroot and Mozzarella Salad
Prep Time: 10 mins
Course: salad, starter, lunch
Keyword: blood orange, beetroot, mozzarella, almonds
Serves 2
Ingredients
1 blood orange
1 large cooked beetroot
½-1 ball of mozzarella
Nuts to garnish: almonds, walnuts, pecans
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Dried oregano to sprinkle
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Optional: 1 or 2 anchovies
Instructions
With a sharp knife, cut thin slices of blood orange until you’ve cut around half of it. Don’t bother removing the peel, it can be such a faff. Squeeze out the juice of the other half into a small bowl or jug and add the tablespoon of olive oil and some seasoning.
Slice the beetroot into wedges and arrange them on plates. Cut the orange slices in half and place them around the beetroot. Sprinkle with a little of the orange juice dressing.
Rip up the mozzarella - use as much or as little as you wish, I’m not here to judge! - and add to the plate, then season everything with salt and pepper.
Sprinkle of your chosen nuts then drizzle over the orange juice dressing and the oregano. Maybe add an anchovy or two on top. Tuck in.
I try beetroot once a year, and every year I say 'no' though can just do mini golden beetroot roasted to an inch of their lives and smothered in feta. This however looks so beautiful I would try it.