When you cook a lot, you sometimes forget there are people—millions of them—who never got the kitchen basics. Though the basics differ from culture to culture, I’m generally talking about those stocks, sauces, and dressings that form the backbone of a cuisine. Today I’m talking about salad dressing.
There was a day when everyone made salad dressing at home. Then the food producers ran away with the concept and we started buying dressing in bottles and, for many people, the knowledge got lost along the way. Now we have hundreds of bottled options and people who don’t know how to make their own. This is a sad state of affairs, I think. I’m not saying you have to make your own, but it would be nice to have the option.
This post is for two people, Gillian and Liam, who both recently told me they wanted to know how to make salad dressing. There are plenty of different dressings, but this is my favorite and most often used: a basic Dijon Vinaigrette (for those of you who know already: sick around for the arugula salad recipe, it’s a good one).
Many dressings work on a ratio system: one part acid/vinegar to three parts oil, for example (that’s the ratio for basic vinaigrette, without mustard). The great thing is that you can use whatever measurement you want—you can make a lot, or a single serving. You can even whip up a batch when you don’t have measuring spoons—like at a rental cabin or a friend’s house who doesn’t cook. Ratios are your friend.
For a mustard vinaigrette, the ratio is 1:3:5.
This means:
One part mustard.
Three parts red wine vinegar.
Five parts oil.
Take your spoon (teaspoon, tablespoon, or whatever spoon you’ve got) and measure out one spoonful of mustard. Stick with Dijon mustard for this recipe. Yellow mustard or grainy mustard will not give the same result.
Then, using the same spoon, measure out three spoonfuls of vinegar. Make sure it’s red wine vinegar. If you use Balsamic, you might not like the results. I know I don’t.
Then take a fork or whisk and blend these two together until they are smooth.
Then take your oil—I use an olive oil here, though some people like a more neutral oil such as canola. You want to drizzle it into the dressing slowly, while whisking constantly. As you do this, you’ll notice the dressing will begin to thicken a bit. This is called emulsification.
To be honest, I don’t measure my oil. I simply drizzle and whisk until I see the dressing thicken. I like my dressing very tangy, so I use as little oil as I can, stopping as soon as I see the change. If you don’t feel confident doing it that way, you can measure out the oil in a cup and drizzle it in. Either way is fine.
You can also just toss all the ingredients into a jar and shake it until combined. Some people even make their dressings in the blender (you need to be making a decent quantity for this). The key is to get it to emulsify and stick together. Under normal circumstances, oil and vinegar do not blend. This is why bottled dressings separate while on the shelf or in the fridge.
You’ll also want to add some salt and pepper. I do this to taste, but if you are using tablespoons to measure your ingredients (i.e. one tablespoon of mustard; three tablespoons of vinegar; five tablespoons of oil), I would recommend starting with half a teaspoon of salt and tasting it to see if you want more. As for pepper, add to taste as well. People’s preferences around pepper vary wildly—and you need to take into consideration how fresh your pepper is—so let your taste be your guide.
I think this is the best advice when it comes to cooking in general. Let your taste be your guide. Taste as you go along and please your own palate. This is where it pays off to be selfish.
So what do you DO with a Dijon vinaigrette, now that you have one? I like to drizzle it over cooked asparagus or leeks or hardboiled eggs. I toss radicchio in it, or shredded carrots. It’s a good dressing for Salade Niçoise. One of my favorite snacks as a child was carrot sticks and Triscuit crackers dipped in vinaigrette dressing.
These days, my most common use for this dressing is this arugula salad. The arugula planted in the garden is going to seed (see the flowers, below), so it’s time to harvest all we can. The leaves are extra peppery, and the way I make this dressing is pretty tangy, so I smooth it out with some walnuts and crumbles of fresh goat cheese. With a bit of good bread and a glass of wine, it’s the perfect lunch or start to dinner. It also costs less than you’d probably pay for a bottle of dressing, and tastes exactly the way you like it.
That, for me, is the whole point.
ARUGULA SALAD WITH GOAT CHEESE AND WALNUTS
Serves two substantially, or four as a side salad
5 cups arugula leaves, washed and dried, large stems removed
¼ cup Dijon mustard vinaigrette dressing (see recipe above)
¼ cup walnut pieces
¼ cup soft goat cheese, crumbled
Toss the greens in the dressing. Top with walnuts and goat cheese. If you toss the cheese in with the greens it will all get creamy and be less attractive on the plate, so do this just before serving.
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I would happily eat this any time. Your photos are making me drool.
Aww, thanks, Kalyn. I would happily make it for you any time.
Arugula with walnuts and goat cheese + a homemade vinaigrette. Beautiful simplicity.
Simplicity and wonderful food and pictures. So basic and yet sadly, as you say, so many don’t know how to do this. So thanks for showing so well. (and I give thanks to my mum and my aunts who taught me these basics back when I was a young ‘un)
It’s like you wrote this post just for me! I’ve tried to make dressings before, but they never come out good, and often totally inedible. I’ve been known to think and act upon such notions as, “I’ll just use the whole lemon so it doesn’t go to waste.” FYI, that’s a bad idea.
Love the ratio rule. That should keep my lemon-squeezing tendencies in check. A little.
Ha, ha! I fall prey to the “don’t want to waste anything” urge as well. And I like a lot of lemon. But it is possible to overdo it
But if you want to use up a lot of lemon, you just need to add an adequate amount of oil to make up the ratio. I like about 1:2 for lemon (one part lemon, two parts oil) or sometimes even 1:1 if the lemon isn’t that sour. Then save the rest in the fridge for later.
Happy dressing-making! Hope this helps.
Nothing mystifies me more than how the food industry seduced us away from making our own salad dressing–and spending much more money on harsh, acrid bottled dressing.
I grew up with a mother who is a fantastic cook, but could not keep a pot of herbs alive and who hates being outside, even in beautiful weather. As a nascent gardener, I have learned to feel much sympathy with those who are as confused by an oil and vinegar emulsion as I am by the process of planting, watering, tending, and harvesting my own vegetables.
It’s good to get back to the absolute basics every now and then. There’s nothing like fresh picked greens and a simple homemade vinaigrette. I don’t measure mine very closely either–I like to make it in a little jar, and loosely measure the ratio of oil to vinegar by height. Then shake, shake, shake!
“I’m going to be known for, of all things, salad dressing?!”
I was a bit irked as I said this to my mother, after having been asked to bring the salad course to a few recent get-togethers and receiving kind words about my concoctions, the dressings in particular. When I think all of the time I spend in the kitchen and all the “impressive” things I’ve learned to cook over the years — intricate layer cakes and pies with flaky crusts, deeply flavoured slow-cooked stews and stocks and sauces seasoned just so — I’ll admit to feeling a bit deflated that people were really excited about … my salad dressing.
My mother always made her own vinaigrettes and so, by her example, so have I, without thinking much about it. I’ve taken for granted that knowledge about basic proportion of oil to acid and the ability to play with it and incorporate other flavours depending on what I’m dressing.
But then. This! Your post! A reminder that all kitchen knowledge is valuable, no matter how trivial it may seem. In fact, isn’t it those small bits of knowledge that often turn out to be the most important of all? My eyes stopped at this line in your post, and read it again: “It also costs less than you’d probably pay for a bottle of dressing, and tastes exactly the way you like it.”
It tastes exactly the way you like it.
My heart sunk thinking of how many people have probably never eaten a salad with vinaigrette that tastes *exactly* the way they like it. And suddenly I feel pretty proud that if I’m ever known for something as a home cook, it just might be my salad dressing.
I think perhaps a phone call to my mom is in order tonight, to say thank you for passing on her knowledge of vinaigrette-making and to put a bit of a spin on my original sentiment. This time it might sound more like “I’m going to be known for salad dressing!”
And thank *you* for this ~ a dressing epiphany!
This is lovely! A dressing epiphany, I like that.
I often get asked to bring salads—which sometimes makes me feel like I’m in the minor leagues (I don’t even get to use a stove!). But then people tell me how much they liked the salad, that they would eat more salad if they could make them that good, and I realized the salads were being *requested.* That’s a much nicer way to look at it, no?
Salad by special request — that *is* a nicer way to think of it!
I’ve been mulling salads all afternoon now, and there are so many small details that really make them. Salad had become one of my litmus tests for restaurants, as I’ve had so many overdressed greens, lackluster dressings, and, my biggest pet peeve, soggy dishes owing to the greens not being dried thoroughly. Salad isn’t necessarily hard to make per se, but the truly good ones are the result of real care and attention.
So here’s to good salad makers everywhere and their craft — cheers!
Jodi,
I am in the same boat as you are. I love to bake and cook, but the only thing people ever want me to bring to gatherings is salad, something I make almost every night, that doesn’t seem too exciting to me. Who knew that something as simple as salad dressing would be the thing that people go nuts over.
Until I was about 15, I didn’t know that you could get pre-made dressing. It was just something you made fresh each night.
I started making all my own dressings five or six years ago. It was mostly due to food allergies but I was making dressing for holidays. Up until allergies became an issue, homemade dressing was only for special occasions. We have a hard time eating bottled dressings now.
Great photos & instructions! The same 1:3:5 ratio works with honey instead of mustard…
Growing up, it never even occurred to me that one might buy salad dressing. We ate green salad with vinaigrette at every dinner, and it was always to quick to whip up a bit of dressing for the next few days. I have gotten less dogmatic, though, as I’ve come to realize that not everyone grew with this vision. Thanks for bringing up such of homemade basics!
Can’t wait til my arugula gets big enough for this salad — looks wonderful!
One of my proudest moments was after Sam and I had been dating for awhile and one day his Mom opened her fridge to show me that she had banished store bought dressing after my rants on the subject.
I really can’t stand store bought. What a way to ruin a good salad!!
My SIL taught me to make a basic mustard-honey-balsamic vinaigrette about 8 years ago and I’ve never looked back. Store-bought dressing was always gross to me but making my own seemed like a step that wouldn’t pay off. Now that I know how easy and fast it is I make my own dressing several nights a week. Thanks for educating people about this–learning to make dressing was a “small” lesson that has paid off many, many times over the years.
This made me giggle. On hulu.com they are running vintage shows of Julia Child and Jacques Pepin cooking together. They do a whole segment of salads and dressings – he his way and she hers. It is great entertainment watching them making good cooking and wonderful food so easy. Julia whips hers up in a bowl. Jacques dumps everything into a jar and shakes. I grew up with homemade salad dressings and it is always a surprise to me that people buy it.
I would so love to be the type of person who makes her own salad dressings…maybe now I will be, thanks to this. I like how you broke it down into ratios. You make it seem so simple! The salad looks terrific.
Hi Tea, I always enjoy your blog and for my own knowledge, I much appreciate this post on how to make salad dressings. But I must say the first line of this post made me pause. You talk of kitchen basics, and lots of people not knowing these. My mind immediately flew to my mum, grandmas, and all the many ‘aunties’ from home, and my partner’s family too (in South And South East Asia), and I thought to myself, I am sure they also do not know how to make cream sauce or salad dressing. But they are many of them hugely experienced cooks, tremendous cooks, lifetime cooks. Who have never regarded a cream sauce or a salad dressing as a basic. Who may never even have eaten any such thing before. I thought it would be sad to assume they are lacking in kitchen basics because they do not have the same kind of knowledge that is only basic and pertinent to certain cuisines. Which for me was what the first line of your post implied. But perhaps I read it wrong?
Good point, Lisa–and thank you for making it.
You’re right, I was writing with a Euro-bias in my examples. The basics differ in each culture, though I think the point that many people these days don’t get the basics–in whatever culture they are growing up in–is still a valid one. So many sauces/stocks/dressings are now purchased pre-made, in food cultures around the world, that the habit and knowledge of how to make them at home is disappearing.
That’s the point I was trying to make, sorry if the examples used implied otherwise. I will make some changes so the post is less Euro-centric, and keep that in mind for future writing. Thanks for keeping me on track. As you probably know from reading the site, respect for multiculturalism is something I feel strongly about.
Thanks again–and lucky you to have such good cooks in your (and your partner’s) family. I’m a bit jealous, to be honest
Hi Tea
I feel I should apologise – your basic meaning was absolutely true, and if I read it out of context. that is my fault too! But thank you for your gracious reply.
My mum would say you are 100% right. She told me Malaysians of my generation think spice pastes come out of plastic pouches! And how sad this is, because the beauty of Malaysian cooking in the past was that every cook makes up fresh spice paste, and every paste of course is different, not just from cook to cook, but from day to day for the same cook! Cooking so reflects mood, attitude, character, and individuality. using the generic (but still so very tasty!) paste from ready-made packets makes all our cooking taste generic too. So we are forgetting our basics – like making spice paste. (In my childhood, around evening time, from the back gardens, you hear the pestle and mortar pounding away, for spice pastes – now this sound is never heard – either we use packet pastes, or else the blender!)
And from my own kitchen, I own up to a recent fundamental error – I too have forgotten my basics. Typically Chinese cooks use a cornflour mix for thickening of sauces. I forgot my basics so far as to use hot water from the kettle, rather than cold water. Hot water just makes starch of course! So you are perfectly right, we all need to be taught and be reminded of cooking basics, whichever basics it may be.
I love the idea of hearing all the pestle and mortars pounding away in the evening!
There is something sad about it. We are loosing the diversity of our world, I think, in the name of convenience and progress. Here’s to trying to take it back, little by little.