Shaved Fennel Salad

I closed on a beautiful home in Westchase this week. The buyers — a young couple, first-timers — looked at the keys the way I looked at my real estate license in 2012: like they were holding the future in their hands.

Sophia is researching dental schools with an intensity that would concern me if it were directed at anything other than dentistry. She talked about it at dinner for twenty minutes and I understood approximately half of it but all of the joy behind it.

Some weeks are ordinary. This was an ordinary week. I sold houses. I cooked dinner. I called Mama. I drove to Tarpon Springs on Sunday. The extraordinary thing about ordinary weeks is that they are the ones you miss most when they are gone.

I made avgolemono tonight. The broth was golden, the lemon sharp, the rice soft. Comfort in a bowl, the Greek answer to everything. We ate at the kitchen table, just the three of us, and for a moment the house was not quiet or loud — it was exactly right. Full. Fed. The sound of forks on plates is the sound I love most in this world.

The olive oil in my kitchen is from a Greek import shop in Tampa that sources from Kalamata. It is expensive. It is worth it. I use it on everything — salads, fish, bread, vegetables, the edge of a pot of soup — because olive oil is not a condiment in this family, it is a philosophy. Use it generously. Use it without apology. Use it the way you use love: poured freely, never measured, always more than you think you need.

The olive oil line I wrote above — poured freely, never measured — is something Mama used to say about everything she made, including her fennel salad, which she tossed together on nights when dinner was already on the stove and the table still needed something bright. I make it the same way now: good oil, sharp lemon, a little salt, and fennel shaved thin enough to curl. It is not the avgolemono — nothing replaces the avgolemono — but it is what I set on the table beside it, because a full table is always the point.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 0 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 medium fennel bulbs, fronds reserved
1 small shallot, very thinly sliced
3 tablespoons good-quality extra-virgin olive oil (Kalamata preferred)
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (about 1 lemon)
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon flaky sea salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup shaved Parmesan or Pecorino Romano (optional)
2 tablespoons fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped

Instructions

Prep the fennel. Trim the fennel bulbs, removing the stalks and any tough outer layers. Halve each bulb lengthwise and remove the small triangular core at the base. Using a mandoline or a very sharp knife, shave the fennel crosswise into paper-thin slices. Place in a large bowl of ice water for 5 minutes to crisp — this keeps the slices from wilting.
Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk together the olive oil, lemon juice, lemon zest, salt, and pepper. Taste and adjust — it should be bright and a little sharp.
Assemble. Drain the fennel thoroughly and pat dry with a clean towel. Return to the bowl along with the shallot and parsley. Pour the dressing over and toss gently to coat every ribbon.
Finish and serve. Transfer to a serving platter. Top with shaved Parmesan if using, a few of the feathery fennel fronds, and an extra drizzle of olive oil. Serve immediately — this salad is best eaten fresh while the fennel is still crisp.

Nutrition (per serving)

Shaved Fennel Salad — The Olive Oil Philosophy, Dressed Simply