Salad is good for your boom-boom. Honey tangerine dressing recipe

Salad in a bowl

I get vegetable cravings. For the colors. Say it with all the syllables. Veg-e-tab-le. Satisfying word.

Salad, she is good for your boom-boom. I bought a half-baked pizza, and then went shopping for colorful vegetables to eat with. This is part of the reason I didn’t do well in Brooklyn. I couldn’t get the vegetables I wanted there. I’m used to leaves and shit. They were so sad in the bodegas and corner markets, and expensive, too. They did always have beautiful and plentiful plantains, though, let the jury note.

I chose the red leaf lettuce, a red sweet pepper, and brought them home to meet a carrot and a honey tangerine I had. Honey tangerine dressing is my signature dressing. I used to date someone who loved it, and who was too high-maintenance. He would complain when I didn’t make it. Honey tangerines aren’t always in season, I would explain. He would forget. Repeatedly. He is the reason I can never, ever, ever date anyone medium- to high-maintenance ever again. Complain about the service in a restaurant twice, and I’m out. Peacey wease. Sayonara, sucker. Bon voyage, bitch. I got things to do. Your care and feeding are not on my list.

The dressing is so easy! Crowd pleaser, for the pickiest (read: my ex listed above, who didn’t like apples–what the fuck?) of palates.

Honey Tangerine Salad Dressing

Yield: enough to dress one salad

  • One honey tangerine (you can use clementines, or tangerines, but this is a different dressing. Most oranges aren’t really sweet enough)
  • Rice vinegar to taste, about 1 t- 1 T
  • Sesame oil to taste, about 1/4 t-1 t
  • Olive oil to taste, about 1/4 t-1 t (optional–use a good quality if you’re going to use it at all. You’ll taste it in a dressing)
  • Black pepper, pinch
  • Salt, pinch
  • Nutmeg (fresh is best), pinch (optional, but very good)
  • Cumin, pinch (optional, if you like this flavor)
  • Coriander, pinch (again, optional if you like this)

Juice the tangerine. There are hella seeds up in that little shit. Hella seeds! If you don’t know the trick for juicing citrus: roll it around to bruise the fruit before you cut it in half. It bursts open the cells inside. You don’t have to use a citrus reamer (heh heh heh–yes, I’m immature), you can use a fork instead, to get all the juice out.

Everything is totally to your taste. If you don’t like the vinegar, don’t use it. It’s just to cut the sweetness of the juice and round out the dressing a little. If you like the dressing to coat the leaves, use more oil. The olive is less strong than the sesame, and the sesame will carry in the olive, so you don’t need to use it as the only thing.

Let the spices sit in the dressing for a couple of minutes to permeate the whole thing. You can wash your greens and cut your vegetables in the meantime, or clean something up. Take out the garbage. Make some tea for after dinner. Pour a glass of water. Or wine.

Nota bene: You can make as much of this as you need to. Double, triple whatever. And clementine juice works well. I’ve done half fresh honey tangerine and half Odwalla tangerine from a bottle with decent results. But yeah, orange? Only the ugly juicing kind (Valencia, are they called?) will come out sweet enough. Naval oranges will totally let you down, man. And carton orange juice, like Minute Maid? Blue balls, you’ll totally get blue balls. You can try fresh squeezed in a bottle. Let me know how it works.

Salad in a bowl

Now, doesn't that look nice, with all the colors? Eat with your eyes first.



  1. W_W

    A pleasure to read. I can tell you are putting quite a bit of work in this blog of yours. I once started a blog, but it took me lots of time and what’s the purpose?

    Anyway, your looks nice and I’ll hop in now and again — if I may.

    If you’ll excuse me, I am going to take care of my own boom-boom now: cracked lemming skulls (the spongy brains crimson red) and some leaves, too.


    • Seer McRicketts-McGee

      What’s the purpose, Wolfie? What’s the purpose of anything? I get pleasure from it. Why would you comment, if it didn’t give you a little slice of joy? Doesn’t it? If you’re worse off afterward, I don’t know what to tell you.

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