Week 1: Watercress, pistachio, and orange blossom salad

Judging by the sudden onslaught of diet advice everywhere, I'm not the only one who has spent the last six weeks living on  caffeine, alcohol, and peppermint bark. Come January, I am tired of rich roasts, triple creme cheeses, and decadently silky pates.... even if they come accompanied by crystal flutes of bubbly champagne.

No. January is definitely the time for excesses to end, a time to return to simple rituals, easy routines, and honest flavors that are bright and clean. Flavors like those you find in this wonderful watercress, pistachio, and orange blossom salad (Plenty, p. 154).

At first glance, it looks like a noisy party: lots of loud, brash flavors that might not play very well together. But here's how it works out: It starts with lots of peppery watercress -- nearly half the salad. But then it's accompanied by two surprising sidekicks -- cilantro and basil -- that bring out unexpected sweetness from the usually brazen cress, a sweetness that is echoed in the pistachio nuts. Add in the tender solicitations of dill fronds and tarragon leaves, and you have the herbal equivalent of the generous guest who always seems to ask just the right question at the just the right moment to keep the conversation rolling. Marry it all together with a tart lemon and olive oil dressing -- and skip the orange blossom water, which, as far as I'm concerned just competes in an unpleasant way with the brightness of the lemon juice -- and you have just the perfect host who circulates through the crowd, pouring drinks and making introductions. In short, a perfect party.

This salad is definitely a party with lots of personality, though. As Ottolenghi suggests, it's best suited as a course by itself, or an accompaniment to a simple roast or a rich ragu of mushrooms and beef where its strong flavors won't overwhelm anything more delicate. Like scallops, for example.

But, if you've been finding yourself seduced these days -- against your better judgment, of course -- by the enormous, gorgeously red strawberries that have started showing up in the supermarkets that you know you will regret the moment you get them home only to discover that their apparent beauty is nothing but LIES, LIES, LIES, and MORE VICIOUS LIES, with not one molecule of real strawberry flavor yet intact ... well then, consider this salad instead, where tastier rewards are guaranteed.

Coming up next week: Black Pepper Tofu (p. 44)