Ottolenghi! Ottolenghi! Ottolenghi! (& a Fig Salad)

I love cookbooks. And I especially love a shiny, brand-new cookbook. The most recent one to grace my ever-growing collection is the marvelous, the stupendous, Ottolenghi.

Unbeknownst to me, Ottolenghi is apparently a food-shop/restaurant in London — and from what I can gather, they have a few different locations. The only reason I know this is because I am such a frequenter of the lovely Clotilde Dusoulier's website. She apparently got the cookbook to try a specific sticky dessert — the name of which escapes me at the moment — which sounded like a very valid reason as to why I, too, should buy the book. However, a couple of months later, I still have not gotten to the dessert section. (Very weird, indeed.) Instead, I have been lolling about in the salad and vegetable section, or as they call it, 'Vegetables, Pulses, & Grains'. I have subsequently read that Ottolenghi is known for their salads, so this is not such the unusual behaviour as it would seem.

I am someone who loves a good salad. That being said, I am usually not the type to make one. Instead, I plunk salad greens in a bowl, drizzle it with a little olive oil and balsamic, and say, 'Voila!' The reason for this is simple and goes beyond sheer laziness; salads are like sandwiches, always better when someone else makes them. I don't know why this is exactly, but there it is. However, thumbing through the pages of this cookbook, I am trying very hard to change my way of thinking.

The second recipe in the book is for a fresh fig salad. It is beautiful to look at and very easy to make. And I know I've said it before, but there is something very nice about eating in season — figs are currently in full-swing.

Now, to be perfectly honest, I did change the recipe a bit. The idea of nothing to balance the sweetness of the figs and honey makes me a bit nervous, even though that is what the greens and pecorino are, theoretically, meant to do. So instead of adding 2 tablespoons of honey to the dressing, as called for, I added 1 tablespoon honey and 1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice. It was just enough to off-set the sweetness. And to be perfectly honest, the real stand-out for me in this recipe was the fresh basil. It hadn't occured to me that it was such a natural compliment to the rest of the ingredients.

2 tablespoons good quality-honey

3 tablespoons olive oil

600 grams ripe green or black figs

300 grams young pecorino or a similar cheese (I forgot to buy this, so I used the chevre that was already in the fridge. Not the same, in the least — but still very good and made life easier.)

80 grams rocket, preferably wild (that would be arugula, for those of you not hip to the British-speak)

10 grams basil leaves

course sea salt and black pepper

Whisk together the honey and olive oil, add salt and pepper to taste. (Or put it in a jam jar with the lid on and shake the daylights out of it.)

Arrange the rocket, basil, figs (which you have quartered), and cheese (which you have torn into pieces) on a platter, or individual serving plates. Drizzle the dressing over the top and finish with a bit of freshly ground black pepper. (Ottolenghi: The Cookbook by Yotam Ottolenghi and Sami Tamimi. Ebury Press, 2008.)

**A quick note on measurements. Because it takes a bit longer to order this cookbook from Amazon in the US, I opted for Amazon UK. That is why the ingredients are written in grams. If you would like my husband to do the maths for you — then he would be more than obliged, I'm sure. Otherwise, you can do as I did and guesstimate.