Tangy avocado salad, hot walnuts, a word on weights, and wine-tasting secrets - includes related articles - includes recipe

Sunset, April, 1995 by Jerry Anne Di Vecchio

Certain foods and flavors come together in perfect harmony. For some people, it's mint sauce with lamb; for others, it's cream cheese with lox - and certainly, if my mail reflects favorite recipes, there's a devoted following for chicken baked in canned mushroom soup.

Another noteworthy duo was discovered by my friend Janis de Halas. She's a cosmetologist, and each month, when I make a visit for personal restorations, we talk food because she's also a great cook and gardener.

One day she had a special tale to tell, and it started with squash blossoms. She had planned to gather a few blossoms to stuff with a goat cheese filling. Her own blooms had wilted, the market had none, but she still had the filling. Where to put it? There sat an avocado, ripe and beckoning. She cut it in half, replaced the pit with the goat cheese mixture, and took a historic bite. The cheese gave the avocado just the right tang, the avocado gave the cheese a velvety essence, and the next thing you know, they were mashed together to fill roasted red peppers to make this handsome salad. The cabbage and toast add crunch; the peppers add color.

Avocados are in peak supply this month, so make use of this salad for lunch or dinner.

Additional advice from practical Janis is in keeping with the speedy nature of this dish: if your garden's red bells aren't ready to roast and peel, use canned (often in jars) roasted peeled red peppers from the supermarket.

BACK TO BASICS

Putting the heat on walnuts

Maybe native black walnuts never made the commercial big time because they are tough to crack and the meat is almost impossible to pick out in large pieces - as my brother and I can testify. This chore usually fell to us. One of my mother's annual pet projects was gathering the windfall nuts because she loved their oily, distinctive character in divinity - the fluffy white candy that's a standard in old cookbooks.

Until I learned about genetics, I had always thought that those long, tedious hours of shelling black walnuts led to my distaste for them. To most, they are mellow, rich, and flavorful. To others, like me, who are born with flavor receptors that detect a glucoside in walnuts, they are bitter and irritating. But the good news is that heat destroys this compound, and at the same time crisps and enhances walnuts for any taste.

English walnuts also have glucoside, but they are blessed with pale, easy-to-crack shells, and nuts that aren't as oily (and are less inclined to become rancid). These traits make English walnuts big business, and California's great Central Valley is the largest source in the world for them. Both English and black walnuts respond well to toasting.

To oven-toast walnuts, arrange them in a single layer in a baking pan. Bake in a 350[degrees] oven until the meat under the thin skin turns a pale to rich gold color (to test, check a broken nut or break one), about 12 minutes. Shake pan frequently.

To pan-toast walnuts, arrange them in a single layer in a frying pan and stir frequently over medium heat until the meat is a pale to rich gold color (to test, check a broken nut or break one), 10 to 12 minutes.

If you fill the baking or frying pan with more than 1 layer of nuts, you need to watch them more closely and stir more often. Rub warm nuts in a towel to remove the loose brown skin, then lift nuts from towel.

Use, or store toasted walnuts airtight for a few days; freeze to store longer.

While pan-toasting, you can add a few ingredients to make glazed English walnuts for appetizers; their nooks and crannies capture the glaze very well.

Savory glazed walnuts. In a 10- to 12-inch frying pan, combine 1 cup toasted walnut halves, 1 teaspoon butter or margarine, 2 tablespoons sugar, 2 tablespoons vinegar, and 1 tablespoon soy sauce. Stir over high heat until liquid evaporates and most of the mixture sticks to nuts and not to the pan, about 3 minutes. Pour nuts onto a sheet of foil and push apart. Let cool briefly for surface to harden, then serve (you can store them airtight up to 4 days; they stick together, but you can break them apart). Makes 1 cup.

Per 1/4 cup: 196 cal. (73 percent from fat); 3.8 g protein; 16 g fat (2 g sat.); 12 g carbo.; 270 mg sodium; 2.6 mg chol.

GREAT TOOL

Weights and measures

A cooking scale has real advantages. In baking, you get the most consistent resultsuls. Recipe nutritional values are more accurate. And a scale is fast and easy to use.

In Sunset's test kitchen, the workhorse we've relied on for years is a commercial balance scale that accommodates as much as 10 pounds. Food sits on one side, weights on the other, and a 1-pound adjustable sliding weight in the center determines ounces. With no working parts, it never breaks down.

One summer not long ago, while browsing through a Sunday antiques market in southern France, I was drawn to an old, handsome balance scale with polished brass plates. The gleaming weights were in metric units, so for day-to-day home cooking I later bought a set of American standard weights. These turn up in a variety of places, and a good starting point for a search is the yellow pages under Scales or ReStaurant Equipment and Supplies. I found my set in the Chantry catalog (Box 3039, Clearwater, Fla. 34630; 813/446-1960). Sets include seven weights graduated from 1/4 ounce to 1 or 2 pounds and cost $69 in brass, $39 in a combination of brass and cast iron. Chantry also has a balance scale, without weights, in red, green, or black for $139 to $169, depending on the finish.