Fig, Prosciutto and Mozzarella Salad

I went to Whole Foods the other day with a definitive shopping list in hand and the intention of getting in and out. But, inevitably, something always distracts me. This time is was the display of fresh figs. 

They immediately conjured up breakfast memories from last summer in Croatia. We were in Rovinj on the Istrian Peninsula and started every morning with a sack of fresh figs, a container of homemade yogurt and a pastry from the local farmers’ market. While overlooking the communist-era monument celebrating the Partisan Army’s victory over the Nazis in WWII, we munched on the plumpest, juiciest figs we’d ever had. And knowing how small their seasonal window was, we took full advantage.

So I greedily grabbed a pint from the Whole Foods display knowing full well their destiny - a beautifully delicious salad that Jamie Oliver deems the sexiest in the world. Fresh figs are partially quartered and opened, adorned with fresh mozzarella and basil, woven together with prosciutto and drizzled with a lemony dressing. Salty, sweet, creamy and fresh, all in one. Darn pretty, too. 

Figs have a peak season from mid- to late summer with some varieties stretching into early autumn. So if you haven’t had the pleasure of eating this old world treat this year, now is your chance! They work especially well in appetizers, jams, sauces and, of course, sexy salads.

Fig, Prosciutto and Mozzarella Salad
Not only is this salad sexy, it's practically effortless. A simple balsamic and olive oil drizzle would also work in place of the lemon dressing. Adapted from a recipe in Jamie Oliver's Happy Days with the Naked Chef.

Serves 2 as a main course (but can easily be reduced for a first course)

8 fresh figs
6 paper thin slices prosciutto
4-6 ounces fresh mozzarella, sliced
Handful of fresh basil leaves

Honey Lemon Dressing:
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/2 tablespoon honey
Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Using a paring knife, make two criss-cross incisions into each fig from top to bottom, but not all the way through. Divide the figs between two plates, squeezing each at its base in order to open them up a little. Weave half the prosciutto around each plate and decorate with half the mozzarella. Roughly rip the basil and scatter it over the top.

Combine all dressing ingredients in a jar with a tight-fitting lid. Shake well to combine and season to taste.

Drizzle the honey lemon dressing over each plate of salad. Garnish with freshly ground black pepper and serve with crusty bread to mop up the juices.

 

Cevapci

As most of you know, I hit the dusty trail last summer. My first destination was New York to see family and friends, bookended by Switzerland for the same reason. But the middle was reserved for a region of the world perpetually on the receiving end of my intrigue and fascination: the Balkans.

I grew up in an immigrant church with a fair amount of Yugoslavians, so the people and culture were quite familiar. I can’t tell you how many jokes we had about moussaka and the colon, or how many times I was dared to yell the Serbian word for diarrhea. But it wasn’t until I moved to Europe that I grasped just how alluring the Adriatic coast was. The civil unrest had ended and the former Yugoslavia was in repair. I knew that I wanted to experience it before a) it got too expensive and b) the rest of the world discovered this slice of paradise, again. 

Although it happened much later than planned, my big chance finally came last summer. We spent weeks traveling from Slovenia all the way down the coast of Croatia and eventually into Bosnia-Herzegovina. The panorama was breathtaking, especially the carved stone beaches jutting into the Adriatic Sea and the ancient cities surrounded by walls. But, and I say this with much disappointment, the food was quite forgettable.

It wasn’t until a few weeks ago that an article in the Times -- “The Balkan Burger Unites All Factions” -- jogged my memory.

We were on the island of Korcula, a luxurious little paradise known for being Marco Polo’s birthplace, and couldn't imagine sitting down to one more plate of mediocre pasta or pizza. So we went to Kristina, our sobe owner’s daughter, for some dinner advice. She explained that the restaurants are left for tourists since most natives grow/make just about everything they eat (bread, wine, vegetables, etc.). But if there’s one thing that gets them out, it’s Cevapcici.  

So we immediately found a stand offering these beloved ground meat sandwiches for about 4 bucks, the same price as the average espresso. We watched the woman behind the counter hand-form over a dozen finger-shaped sausages and put them on a large grill to sizzle. When she asked about condiments, we requested everything, plus an extra slathering of Ajvar, a mouthwatering spread made from red peppers, eggplant and chili. Along with plenty of salad fixings and a large, flat bun, this Balkan burger turned out to be our tastiest meal by far.

I’m so glad that Julia Moskin divulged where to get a cevapi-fix this side of the Atlantic. I know exactly what I'll be doing on my next trip to New York.