I had the best chicory salad of my life at a sun spattered corner bistro in Paris last month.

Last month I took a two week repose. The fall and winter farming season had caught up to me. The summer months compounding and the recent weeks spent pruning the vineyard left my hands raw and body withered. With nowhere else to turn (one foot of snow on the ground), Lena and I booked a trip to France. The goal was to eat and drink until my belly and liver resembled that of a goose ready to be butchered for foie gras. And that’s exactly what happened.

Although, we will have to fast forward because this meal takes place during our last two hours in Paris, on a layover before our flight home. We walked lazily along the Seine recounting the extraordinary plates enjoyed along our trip from veal brain in Paris, to fondue in the Savoie, and tajine dinners in Marseille. Our growing appetite had us stumbling into a spot where only the locals seemed to dine. Like every great Parisian bistro this one was helmed by an American chef from Wichita, Kansas. A chalkboard with the plats du jour circulated around the dining room.

Three espressos, no breakfast. We had entered flow state. In broken French and with reckless hunger, I ordered a barrage of plates. Each one was better than the last. Until we got to these chicories. The best chicories I had ever had.

Was it the hunger from a three hour train ride? The two glasses of funky, freak-nasty skin-contact Savagnin? That is still to be determined. But for the time being enjoy this recipe and short informational on why radicchio is so important to me.

Radicchio is a farmer’s crop. It pushes deep into winter, surviving frosts and raw lows. Each freeze sweetens it, concentrates it, deepens its bitterness into something richer and more vibrant. The dark days embolden its color. Some farmers even pull the heads from the field and force them in darkness for weeks, coaxing tenderness and electric hues.

In the bleak stretch of winter markets, radicchio is defiance. A bright salad for the real ones who bundle up and show up. A reminder that beauty persists in the cold.

Without further ado, here is my take on the radicchio salad. With radicchio I grew, no less!

Ingredients

Base

• 1 small head pink radicchio (or Rosa del Veneto)…………..Pieri Farm or maybe check out Headhouse Farmers Market
• 1 small head Castelfranco radicchio, torn…………………. Pieri Farm or maybe check out Headhouse Farmers Market
• 1 small handful tender herbs (parsley, chives, or dill )…….Headhouse Farmers Market

Toppings

• 1 orange or blood orange, supremed (or thinly sliced)………..Riverwards
• 1/3 cup toasted hazelnuts (roughly chopped)………..Riverwards
• 2–3 oz shaved Red Cat cheese…….Birchrun Hill Farm
• Flaky salt to finish

Dressing 

• 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
• 1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
• 1 tsp honey (or maple syrup)
• 1 tsp Dijon mustard
• 1 small shallot, very finely minced
• Pinch salt + black pepper

Instruction