
Chef Thomas
A Ploughman's Salad
The old pub ploughman's, shaken loose from its board and laid across butter lettuce with a sharp mustard dressing, for the kind of lunch that feels like you've given yourself the afternoon off.
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Small waxy potatoes dressed while still warm in wholegrain mustard and good olive oil, scattered with torn mint and served at the temperature of a June afternoon. The salad that belongs on every summer table.
The new potatoes arrive at the market in early June, still wearing their papery skins, small enough to hold two in your palm. They smell of earth and rain. This is when the year's best potato salad begins, and it would be a waste to do anything complicated with them.
The whole trick is dressing them while they're still warm from the pan. A hot potato is porous, open, ready to absorb whatever you put on it. A cold potato is closed for business. So you make the dressing first, get it sitting in the bowl, and tip the potatoes in straight from the colander. The mustard and vinegar soak in. The oil coats each one. By the time the mint goes on and the bowl reaches the table, every potato tastes like the dressing was cooked into it rather than poured over the top.
I make this salad all through June and July, when we eat outside more evenings than not. It sits on the table next to whatever is coming off the barbecue, or beside a piece of cold ham, or honestly just on its own with some bread and butter. It doesn't need company, though it's generous with it. Right food, right evening.
I wrote it down in the notebook years ago: new potatoes, mustard, mint, Saturday. It hasn't changed since, because it doesn't need to.
Quantity
750g
scrubbed but unpeeled
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
4 tablespoons
Quantity
1 small
very finely chopped
Quantity
generous handful
torn
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
a few
snipped
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| small waxy new potatoesscrubbed but unpeeled | 750g |
| wholegrain mustard | 2 tablespoons |
| white wine vinegar | 1 tablespoon |
| good olive oil | 4 tablespoons |
| shallotvery finely chopped | 1 small |
| fresh mint leavestorn | generous handful |
| fine sea salt | to taste |
| black pepper | to taste |
| chives (optional)snipped | a few |
Put the potatoes in a large pan of well-salted cold water. Bring to a steady boil and cook until a knife slides through the centre without resistance. Depending on size, this takes twelve to fifteen minutes. Don't overcook them. You want them tender, not collapsing. A potato that falls apart in a salad is a sad thing.
While the potatoes cook, whisk the mustard and vinegar together in a bowl large enough to hold the finished salad. Add the olive oil in a steady stream, whisking until it comes together into something thick and slightly emulsified. Stir in the chopped shallot. The raw shallot will soften in the vinegar and lose its bite. Taste it. If it needs more acidity, add a splash more vinegar. If it feels sharp, a little more oil.
Drain the potatoes and let them steam dry in the colander for a minute or two. If they're small, leave them whole. If they're larger, cut them in half while still warm, handling them with a cloth if you need to. Tip them into the bowl of dressing while they're still hot. This is the important part. Warm potatoes absorb a dressing in a way that cold potatoes never will. Turn them gently. Don't mash them about. Let them sit for ten minutes.
Tear the mint leaves and scatter them through the salad just before serving. Don't chop them: tearing releases more fragrance and looks right. Add the chives if you have them. Season again with salt and pepper. Taste it. The potatoes will have absorbed some of the seasoning, so it will need more than you think. Serve at room temperature, not fridge-cold. This is a salad that wants to be the temperature of a warm afternoon.
1 serving (about 220g)
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