M
y favourite’80s
childhoodsaladwas
Mum’ssimplebowl
oficeberglettucewith
lemon,saltandpepper– always
crunchy,tangyanddelicious.My
sisterswouldleavethetableto
watchSaleof theCenturywhile
I satandemptiedthesaladbowl.
Therewasnootherlettuce.
TheHobartHmongcommunity
wasyettomakeitsverdantmark
onourpalates,baggedmesclun
mixwasstilla decadeaway,and
caféshadn’tbegunfeedingus
rocketandbalsamicvinegar.In
thedayswhena tinofpineapple
orbeetroot,a concoctionof
driednoodleswithcabbageand
soysauce,ora bowlofcoldpasta
withdicedhamandmayonnaise
wereconsideredsalads,theiceberg
lettucewasmilesaheadinmy
youngestimation.
It wasa slowevolution– cos
first,withoakleafsinshocking
shadesofburgundyhotonitsheels.
I’llneverforgetmyfirstbutterhead,withitssilkytexture,completely
wonderful,despitehavingbeen
dressedwiththeubiquitouskiller
ofsalads– Frenchdressing,freshly
shakenfromthefridgedoor.
Butnowthefloodgatesare
open.FlashyTroutBack,Drunken
Womanand,a favouriteofmine,
AmishDeerTongueareoften
foundat themarket.Celtuce,a
Chineselettucewherethecooked
stemis theprize,is there,too.
Thebigseedcompanieshavebeen
tamingthesegreensformechanical
harvest,meaningthateventhe
mostboringsupermarketoffers
a rainbowofthisancientand
beautifulplant,albeitwithless
evocativenames– RedIncised
saladanyone?
Lettuceis a tender,sappydaisy
completewithdownyseedheads
youcanblowupontomakewishes- wishesforsaladswillalmost
certainlycometrue,if youhappen
toblowthemtowardsfertileearth.
Thoselittleseeds,flyingon
theirpappusbristles,arefroman
ancientlineageofdaisypioneers.
If thereis a fire,a felledtreeor
landslideinnaturethatleavesthe
earthuncovered,it is thesewinged
parcelsthatblowonin,germinate
andshieldthesoilquickly.
Thegardenerlearnsthatthese
pioneeringseedshaveadaptedto
germinateinthepresenceoflight.
Theplantbreederhastowatch
forotherancientadaptations–
bitternessandspinesthatevolved
tofendoffgrazinganimals.If
youcuta maturelettucefrom
thegarden,you’llseewhitelatex
oozefromthewound.Inold
specimens,it’sintenselybitter.
A littlebitternessis desirable,
butthesweetcrunchoflettuce
is a perfectfoilformoreintense
flavours,sowhenthelettuce
breederwandersthefield,nibbling
leavestoselecta newlineofgreens,
oftenthebitteronesarepulled
andfedtothechickens.
Mydaughtershavea copy
ofTheTaleof theFlopsyBunnies
inwhichthelatexofthebolted
lettuceMrMcGregorputsinhis
compostheapis sosoporificthat
thebunniesendupina sack,
fatedtolineMrsMcGregor’scoat
(spoiler:thankfully,theyescape).
Unfortunately,thetheorybehind
thisstorydidn’tworkwhenmy
youngestdaughterwrotetoSanta
askingforaniceberglettuce,found
it underthetreeandstillranwild
throughthedayandintothenight,
despitehavingconsumedherbody
weightincrisp,blanchedleaves.
Eightyearslater,shestillasks
forlettuceunderthetree,and
shestillreceivesit.Butwehave
bothevolved.Herrequestforthe
innocent,deliciouslyblandiceberg
wasprobablya rebellionagainst
alltheintenselyflavouredthings
thechildofa marketgardeneris
fedeveryday,butwe’vetradedthe
blockysupermarketicebergforthe
magnificentlyfrillyReinedesGlaces
growninourgarden.A French
heirloomiceberg– theperfect
compromise,withjaggedleavesand
saline,greenflavour,butstillwith
aninnocent,crispwhiteheart.●Wishes
forsalads
willalmost
certainly
cometrue,
if you
happen
toblow
thedowny
seedheads
towards
fertileearth.Lettuce dream
From classic iceberg to frilly French heirlooms,
the appeal of lettuce extends far beyond bagged
mesclun mix, writes PAULETTE WHITNEY.
Produce
GOURMET TRAVELLER 43ILLUSTRATIONS CREATIVE MARKET (LETTUCE) & LAUREN HAIRE (PORTRAIT).