On a brisk Tuesday morning, weekend brunch can feel very very far away. Oddly enough, it is at this darkest hour (in terms of brunch availability) that I like to think about it. It should come as no surprise to anyone that I like to make fairly epic brunches that are anything but off-the-cuff. Yes, my lazy Sundays require a fair amount of planning which, depending on your perspective, may seem deeply sad or aspirational. I may be wildly Type A about my weekend plans, but when it comes to sketching out something as delicious as this Swiss Chard Spanish Tortilla with Tomato Horseradish Jam, it’s a form of relaxation in and of itself. And the cooking? Well, what could be more satisfying than living out your Tuesday aspirations on a Sunday? It’s a delicious circle of success.
This Falafel Tabbouleh Salad with Quail Eggs & Labneh exists because I haven’t had a salad on the blog since May 3rd. May 3rd! And it barely counts because it was a pasta salad. You must think I have scurvy by now. I can assure you that I don’t, I swear I get enough vitamin C, and no, I don’t rely on gummy vitamins… well, not entirely anyway. I just thought maybe we could take a break from ice cream sandwiches and creamy brie sauces, and remember that vegetables are pretty alright. So, I give you this Falafel Tabbouleh Salad teaming with flavourful herbs, juicy tomatoes, and crisp cucumbers. The falafel is fried, though – I’m not made of stone.
Today’s Warm Lentil Salad is brought to by the word “guilt”. Well, not so much the word, more the emotion. I suppose it’s a post-holiday inevitability, but food-related guilt is the absolute worst. Food normally makes me happy, but I guess that’s what got me into this shame spiral in the first place.
The guilt hit soon after I returned from Europe. While I was whooping it up in Paris with all my pastry pals, the debauchery seemed permissible – not even permissible; it felt expected. What was I going to do? Return from Paris with tales of all the lettuce I encountered? But even if the context supported my dubious eating habits, going hog wild (emphasis on the hog) is not without its consequences. Hence the guilt. Hence the salad.
Warning! I’m about to talk about my boyfriend. Before you click away from this page for fear of extreme mushiness, I promise I’ll get to the Chilli Chicken Ramen momentarily. Feel free to scroll through until the word “boyfriend” disappears. Or better yet, fixate on the photos. I mean, let’s face it, you’re here for the sweet, sweet food porn and a recipe. I’m not offended. I’ve been guilty of the same thing. To those of you who find my personal life compelling or are too polite for your own good, please proceed to the next paragraph. I am grateful you’ve chosen to indulge me.