I am currently grasping on to the last days of open-window, no-A/C weather in New York, but it’s a failing effort. After making a pot of pasta I am sweating and cranky. It is time to finally admit that summer has taken over, taken over my life and my body temperature and my outfits and the airflow in my apartment, and of course my appetites. I have already been to Rippers twice this year, I have already filled my fridge with cubed watermelon. There’s no fighting it.
Which is why I have decided that here on Mess Hall, June will be Pool Party Month. (But you already knew that!)
This might be confusing because I don’t own a pool, rarely have access to one, and probably swim in one 2-5 times a year, max. But I think that the pool party is more a state of mind than anything else. Though having a pool does help. The pool party is communal, is breezy, is likely soundtracked by a mix of Espresso and like, 80s disco (more on that in a few weeks). Its edges stretch across a day, from 11 a.m. beverages to midnight skinny dipping, from grilling to raiding the freezer for the last of the ice cream.
Really I came up with this idea because each summer, my dear friend Rachel hosts a pool party, and for the last two years, I’ve made the same meal for the girlies: Ali Slagle’s Crispy Sour Cream and Onion Chicken (gift link), and a big wedge-style romaine salad. For the last year, Louie has been asking me to write up the recipe, and now I have, to kick off this easy breezy humid month.
This is my ideal poolside meal. It harkens back to chicken tenders from a snack bar, it’s filling but not heavy, there’s something cold and crunchy but it’s still bathed in blue cheese and bacon. That heavy-light contrast is central, I think, to poolside eating. Nobody wants to get a cramp on the floatie later; nobody wants to eat something so light they can’t have a cocktail or two if they so choose.
It’s not a hands-off meal, of course. Especially if you’re cooking for a group, frying all those cutlets takes time. (I cooked them for four on Sunday, and still had to abscond from conversation for 15-20 minutes, periodically sticking my neck out from the kitchen to say hahahaha what did you say?????) But if you’re at an airbnb, or if you’re in houseguest mode, or if you’re hosting, maybe you want half an hour of vibing in the (maybe air-conditioned??) kitchen while people breeze in and out, grabbing a beer or a bathroom break and chatting for a few minutes? This is one of my preferred kitchen modes, a balance of solo time and chatting, moving from stove to prep space to drying rack to kitchen to my beer to the playlist to the next person to slide the door open and let in a wave of music and chatter from outside. (Ideally, too, I am in a big kitchen, like Rachel’s.) This is the true promise, for me, of summer—a variant ease.
A few things about the cutlets before we get to the salad. This is my preferred cutlet recipe because it is FLAVORFUL and CRUNCHY and instead of a 3-step dredging process, you have just two steps, and one can be done hours ahead of time.
Prep: I like to pop the chicken into the sour cream marinade in the morning, as it means one less thing to do when it’s time to cook, and it’ll make a more flavorful result. (I also like to add some chile flakes or gochugaru to the marinade.) You can also mix the breadcrumb mixture ahead and store it in the fridge or a ziploc bag; just don’t leave it uncovered in a humid space.
Shopping: Also, especially if you’re cooking for more than 4-6, spring for the pre-cut cutlets at the store to save yourself time. Martyrs don’t belong at pool parties.
Cooking: I like to set up a drying rack over a baking sheet, rather a paper towel-lined plate, for the finished cutlets. Especially if you’re making a big batch, this will keep them from steaming and going soggy. And be sure to use a spatula, not tongs, to cook them: the way you get uniformly crisp cutlets is by pressing them down periodically to make sure the surface is making even contact with the hot oil.
Cleaning: Between batches, scoop out the burned bits of bread crumb that will inevitably appear and drive you nuts.
Okay ONTO THE SALAD. This is my dream salad. It is luscious and bacon-y and herby and tart. It also uses sour cream so you can just buy an XL tub at the store for both recipes. It makes the perfect bite with a little piece of cutlet, an easy marriage of sour cream and onion and blue cheese dressing. It’s a riff on an Alison Roman recipe from her first book, though I’ve brought back the blue cheese—a wedge isn’t a wedge without it. And it’s easy to delegate: have someone do the shallots, someone do the bacon, someone do the dressing, then you swoop in to assemble it and take all the credit. (I’m “kidding”.)
Sorta-Wedge With Romaine
Serves 4-6
One small shallot
1/3 cup red wine or sherry vinegar, plus more if needed
Salt
Pepper
1/2 pound thick-cut bacon (I like Benton’s)
1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese, plus more for serving
1 bunch parsley
One large head romaine lettuce (or two small), washed
Thinly slice the shallot, and place in a small bowl. Cover with the vinegar, add a pinch of salt, and mix well. Set aside or in the fridge for at least 30 minutes, or a few hours.
Fry the bacon until crisp but not shattering, and dry on a paper towel-lined plate. This is my preferred bacon cooking method. Once they’re cooled, break into large pieces.
Mix together the sour cream and blue cheese. Add a pinch of salt and a few cranks of black pepper. (I am now thinking that celery salt could be nice here too?) If the shallots have already softened and gone pink and half-pickled, splash a few spoonfuls of their vinegar into the mixture. (Or add some fresh vinegar if they need more time.) Add a few splashes of water, too, until it all looks easily spoonable like blue cheese dressing—it shouldn’t be gloopy. Taste: if it’s overly rich or a little dull, add more vinegar. If it’s bracingly tart, add a splash of milk or olive oil or another spoonful of sour cream. Add salt and pepper as you like. (The shallots and the dressing can both be prepped well in advance.)
Roughly tear the romaine into large pieces. Place them in a bowl, and dress with a little sprinkle of salt and a spoonful or two of the pickling vinegar, just so they’re not naked. Roughly chop the parsley.
Now it’s time to assemble the salad, which is where you get to really express yourself. I like to treat these like nachos, with layers of flavor, rather than a pile of greens glooped with dressing. (One of the reasons I think romaine is good for a wedge is that dressing slips so quickly off of a cool piece of iceberg….) On a wide rimmed plate or large shallow bowl, spoon down a little bit of dressing, then top with about half of the romaine, add a few lashes of dressing atop it, then half the bacon, and half the shallots. Repeat with another layer, then shower with the parsley. You’re not looking to coat every leaf in dressing—it will mix more when people serve themselves. Instead, I go for more of a Pollock effect. Depending on how much lettuce I have, sometimes I’ll hold back some dressing, and serve it on the side. Dressing a salad is an incredibly personal thing; you’ll find your own way.
This series will maybe inspire me to write about food + my public city pool...no adjoining kitchen obviously so lots of fruit, cucumbers, chips, drinks, etc. Sometimes I bring in hoagies. No snack bar but carts that set up outside selling hot dogs. (but if i ever have access to a pool with a kitchen nearby, watch out!!)
Omg !!! Please do