Now that my debut novel Hoods Landing is past-tense launched in Wellington and Auckland, normal transmission must resume, and yet! Every time I blink an hour has passed and it’s next Thursday and a certain flat the-party’s-over malaise threatens.

Nonetheless I’m clambering onwards like a self-absorbed and energetic goat with a food blog, and bring you a salad of such glad tidings that it could only be inspired by a hedonistically carefree Silver Palate cookbook, whose authors address the reader as if we all have holiday homes in Portugal and the Hamptons, and let’s face it, the government still hasn’t worked out a way to privatise and flog off one’s personal vicarious thrills so you might as well get them while you can. And although it has a lot of words in the title, this chicken, red grape, pecan and brie salad is more or less practical, and can make quite a lot out of a little lux-ness.

Although it’s barely late spring, the humidity and heat is comfortably settling into Auckland like an aunty holding onto a grudge, and a cold yet robust salad for dinner becomes increasingly logical—a notion clearly telepathically spreading across the city, as Emma Gleason noted the same in the latest and welcomed edition of Crust.

With its combination of crunch and sweetness there is a hint of both the Waldorf and a cheeseboard about this one. The wine-lushness of the grapes against the fullness of the brie; the smokiness of the pecans against the brisk, fragrant crispness of the celery; the rasp of mustard against the richness, it’s all wonderful together. As a bigtime fan of buying a rotisserie chicken and then enjoying several days with it; that’s my usual move here but this recipe makes perfect sense for leftover scraps and shreds from a roast or deli-counter ready-to-go stuff.

If you’re not into eating chicken or it’s just not going to work out this time around, perhaps surprisingly it’s the most easily dispensable ingredient—there’s something in the firm, aromatically ripe quality of the brie rind that both echoes and suggests roast chicken anyway.

We are getting undeniably close to Christmas; this recipe is forgivingly easy to increase or decrease, and although it would be a perfect way to burn through some big-day leftovers, it could also make an excellent day-of offering with its Yule-ish red and green hues and celebratory ingredients. I was struck by the combination of ingredients upon reading this recipe in the Silver Palate Good Times Cookbook, the almost painterly dusky cheeks of the grapes against the blush-red lettuce leaves and glowingly woody pecans is as stunning to behold as it is to eat.

The main differences I made was to change from a vast mayonnaise-based dressing to a vinaigrette, to reflect a more local sensibility; and to change the cheese from roquefort to something mellower, mostly because my girlfriend doesn’t like blue cheese—but I do wholeheartedly think the voluptuous plushness of the brie melds more pleasingly than a discordant blue.

For more feast-like salads, I recommend my peach, prawn and corn salad; this lentil, radish, avocado and fried potato salad; a broccoli coriander salad; or my salmon, mango and coriander salad.

I need to say thank you again to everyone who has shown up literally and figuratively as my debut novel Hoods Landing came to fruition with an exceptionally small team and budget—the launch last week in Auckland was wonderful, and now the book is out of my hands and belongs to you all. Beyond mere sales, every mention, share, recommendation and review helps enormously, as does getting Hoods Landing out of the library. This novel is a David, not a Goliath, but it can and could be huge—and I appreciate SO much everyone who has supported it so far.

Chicken, red grape, pecan and brie salad

A stunning and plush salad, quite straightforward to make but exceptionally celebratory—keep it in mind before, during, and after Christmas. The quantities are a little vague, as I feel salads are a dish that move with you, not at you, but I’ve attempted to give some structure to at least get you on your way. As always, before going shopping for these or any ingredients, I recommend checking out the Boycott Aotearoa zines so you know which brands to avoid. Recipe adapted from the Silver Palate Good Times Cookbook by Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins.

• 200g cold roasted chicken (see notes)
• 100g red seedless grapes
• 50g brie
• 2 sticks celery
• 50g pecans
• 20g mixed red and green salad leaves
• 1 heaped teaspoon dijon mustard
• 3 tablespoons good olive oil
• 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• A drop of honey
• Salt, to taste

1: Get out a good-sized mixing bowl—though you can mix it directly in a serving bowl if that’s indeed what you’re going to serve it in or eat it from—and pull the 200g cold chicken by hand into uniform-ish strips and shreds. Throw this into the bowl.

2: Slice the 100g red grapes in half, cut the 50g brie into small cubes, and dice the two sticks of celery. Add these to the mixing bowl, along with the 50g pecans—I tend to crumble a few with my hands and leave the rest whole, but you can chop them if you wish. Add the 20g salad leaves, and give everything a loose-wristed stir to disperse the ingredients amongst each other.

3: Finally, whisk together the heaped teaspoon of mustard, the three tablespoons olive oil and two tablespoons red wine vinegar, and the dash of honey with a pinch of salt in a small bowl. Pour it over the salad and stir once more, quite thoroughly this time, to lightly coat everything in a mustardy sheen.

4: Either tuck in right now with a fork, or decant it onto the serving dish of choice.

Serves one quite fulsomely, or two lightly—if making this for two I might augment a few ingredients by a handful or so here and there.

Notes:

• This is a useful way with leftover chicken—think of 200g as a rough indicator, but more or less is absolutely fine. Nothing’s stopping you cooking chicken on purpose for this, either—the original recipe suggests poaching the chicken, which is a method somewhat fallen from favour, but it makes sense here.
• The original recipe also used radicchio, if you’re lucky enough to get your hands on some then please do deploy it here.
• Another cheese would work—the original recipe suggests roquefort, but anything blue makes sense, as does camembert or something sharp and crumbly or firm and nutty. Frankly, there’s usually a brie on the cheap side at the supermarket which edges it into favour, but it does also taste excellent here.
• In lieu of pecans, walnuts would be great—both are smoky and just a little bitter. Otherwise, I’d go for toasted slivered almonds.

what I’ve been listening to lately:

American Woman (David Lynch Remix) by Muddy Magnolias and David Lynch. This warped, chopped and screwed cover is used in a pivotal scene in Twin Peaks: The Return; so very pivotal that I won’t allude to it even vaguely, but the gunshot beat and sludgy, asphaltum-thick vocals are wildly compelling; Lynch’s vision was unstoppable in any medium but the groundwork had to be laid by the two musicians in Muddy Magnolias themselves first.

Monitor by Souxsie and the Banshees; this song sounds so modern—likely retroactively because of its influence—with a stompy, tempestuous quality that makes you feel rather carefree until you read the prescient lyrics. Thank you to my mutual Sophia for reminding me of this great track! Recommendations beget recommendations.

Daisies by Cooee, I’ve shared it before but it bears repeating, much like the “I listen, I listen” refrain which is so warmly hypnotic, what a glorious song. Singer Kirli Saunders wrote the lyrics while gardening—“I kept feeling like the land had wisdom to share – little reminders to listen to Country and the Ancestors. Little reminders about going slow and in Country’s time – to be more like the flannel flowers on the escarpment and the paper daisies in the yard.” Listening to it makes me feel like I, myself, am growing out of the earth, strong and slow and without fear of grass rash.

PS: Feeling hopeless is a luxury that serves no one but those perpetrating the hopelessness. Despite the ceasefire announcement, families in Palestine need us now more than ever. You can donate to ReliefAid’s Gaza Appeal, who are connected with teams on the ground in Gaza; you can donate to Convoys of Good, another registered NZ charity distributing aid. I’d also like to highlight Welcome Back Slow Fashion who has relentlessly fundraised for mutual aid by selling off gaspingly beautiful and rare vintage clothing pieces one by one. As I’ve already mentioned, you can also demonstrate your control and power through the absence of your dollars. Boycott Zine Aotearoa has helpfully put together two comprehensive free zines so you can quickly see who to studiously avoid when buying food, drinks, household items and beauty products.