Citrus Salad With Rosemary And Olives
Medically reviewed by Christiana George Updated Date: January 6, 2026

My favorite food group is fruit, and citruses are probably my favorite fruit group. While the fruit world never fails to delight, I think we need their effervescence most this time of the year. Their brightness counterbalances the season’s otherwise drab palette (which a visit to the farmer’s market demonstrates with rows and rows of… potatoes), and I could eat them endlessly.
If there’s one time where I truly feel food is too beautiful to eat, it’s now.
I am newly but officially in love with Cara Cara oranges. You would never guess that such an ordinary exterior gives way to the most vividly orange interior. And they taste so perfect, as sweet as can be. Blood oranges are pretty rad themselves. Their brilliant flesh intensifies any salad, flashes of ruby red and very showy. And meyer lemons, well, given this blog’s name, I think it’s pretty clear where I stand on lemons.
Unfortunately, they’re not very easy to come by here in New York. But that fact only makes them dearer. In fact, I think the overall inaccessibility of fruit has only emphasized just how important they are to me.


This salad is exactly what you should be eating now. We’re all coming out of the previous year feeling slightly shameful of our holiday excess, with renewed vows to eat thoughtfully and healthily. It’s like citruses came along just in time to save the day.
To keep this from being a fruit salad, by which I mean inherently sweet, there’s a fried rosemary and olive topping that adds just the right note of bitterness. I also decided to put everything over a bed of arugula and generously sprinkle sea salt on top, which heightens this salad’s savory nature. And with the addition Meyer lemon, I believe we cover all of the basic tastes: bitterness, sweetness, sourness, and saltiness. (Don’t mention umami, okay? Unless you want to throw in some mushrooms and call it a day.)

I’ll leave you with this quote from The Shipping News. I think it pretty much sums up my spirit:
“Suddenly he could see his father, see the trail of ground cherry husks leading from the garden around the edge of the lawn where he walked while he ate them. The man had a passion for fruit. Quoyle remembered purple-brown seckle pears the size and shape of figs, his father taking the meat off with pecking bites, the smell of fruit in their house, litter of cores and peels in the ashtrays, the grape cluster skeletons, peach stones like hens’ brains on the windowsill, the glove of banana peel on the car dashboard. In the sawdust on the basement workbench galaxies of seeds and pits, cherry stones, long white date pits like spaceships. strawberries in the refrigerator, and in June the car parked on a country road and the father on his knees picking wild strawberries in the weeds. The hollowed grapefruit skullcaps, cracked globes of tangerine peel.”




CITRUS SALAD WITH ROSEMARY AND OLIVES
From Bon Appétit
Serves 3 to 4
Ingredients
Vegetable oil
2 3-inch sprigs of rosemary
kosher salt
5 pitted, oil-cured black olives
2 cara cara oranges
2 blood oranges
1 meyer lemon
extra virgin olive oil
freshly-ground black pepper
a handful of arugula per person
Directions
Pour vegetable oil into a small heavy saucepan to a depth of 1/2-inch and turn on stove to medium. Using a deep-fry thermometer, heat the oil until it reaches 350 degrees F. Add the rosemary sprigs to oil and fry until crisp and bright green, 10 to 15 seconds.
Transfer to a paper towel–lined plate and season lightly with kosher salt. Add 10 pitted oil-cured black olives to oil; fry until bubbling stops, about 4 minutes. Place on plate with rosemary. Strip rosemary leaves from sprigs; mince. Chop olives.
Using a small, sharp knife, cut peel and white pith from the oranges and lemon. Cut crosswise into 1/2-inch rounds.
Put a bed of arugula on a serving plate. Arrange the citruses over. Season lightly with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Drizzle lightly with olive oil. Sprinkle chopped rosemary and olives over oranges.
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Buckwheat Crepes, Two Ways

The smell of buckwheat flour is anything but sweet. It’s pungent, it’s herbal, it’s almost medicinal. And it tastes grassy. Even its color is offputting, a cross between volcano ash and moon dust. Yet its assertiveness makes it a fine counterbalance to a good many things.
The French—bretons especially—use buckwheat flour for making galettes, buckwheat crepes essentially, but sans the milk and eggs, so they’re dairy-free, just a mix of flour and water really. I decided to make buckwheat crepes the easy way, because as David described it, making galettes requires a billig, a râteau, coordination, and finesse, all four of which I’m completely lacking.

And so, the other morning, I got up early and raided our fridge for possible toppings to go in my breakfast galette. There were lots of options—we hoard omelette material like no other—but I settled on something sweet for myself and something savory for Chris.

Et voilà! Behold, that’s how my peach, Greek yogurt, honey, and slivered almonds filled crepe came into being. It was très très bon (uh-oh, watch out, I’m starting to pull out my high school French).
I actually made Chris a ham, brie, scallion, and egg crepe, as per these instructions, but didn’t get to take pictures as he gets irritable when he’s hungry. (Are all men like this?)


Next up, for lunch, I filled a galette with peppery turkey, ricotta cheese, and scallions.
Both were exceptional, with the flavor of the buckwheat definitely present, but not loud. Like the non-obnoxious kid in class who makes astute comments but doesn’t jump at every chance to speak, does that make sense? I enjoyed it a lot actually, especially compared to regular old crepes, which inherently don’t have a whole lot of flavor.
I must say though, I preferred the combination of plain yogurt, peaches, almonds, and honey. The richness of the Greek yogurt turned my crepe into a luscious dessert… except it had all the wholesomeness of breakfast, n’est-ce pas?

BUCKWHEAT CREPES
Recipe from David Lebovitz
Makes about 12
Ingredients:
2 cups whole milk
1 Tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp sea salt
3 Tbsp butter, melted
1/2 cup buckwheat flour
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
3 large eggs
Directions:
In a blender or with a whisk, combine all the ingredients until smooth. Cover and chill overnight.
The next day, take the batter out of the fridge and let it sit on the counter for about half an hour. It should be the consistency of heavy cream—if not, add a Tbsp of milk.
On medium-low heat, wipe a thin layer of neutral oil in a saucepan (or toss in a small pat of butter, let it melt, then wipe it around). After a few minutes, pour 1/4 cup of the batter into the center of the pan and swirl it quickly. When the surface is bubbly, flip it carefully. They’re fragile and break easily, so take it easy and don’t tug too hard. After 30 seconds or so, both sides should be browned, so remove it from the heat. Don’t stress if it comes out oily or just plain ugly—the first one usually is. (And the second and third, in my case.)
Once you get the hang of the right heat setting—for me, I started out with the stove on low, but notched it up to medium after the first crepe—you should be flipping them out pretty quickly.
Serve them warm. I tossed the cold ones into the toaster oven, but you can warm them up in the oven as well. And we don’t have a microwave so I can’t test it out, but you could probably zap them in there for 20 seconds or so and nobody would know the difference.
Toppings: the sky’s the limit. I’ve tried them with tomato, basil, and mozzarella—delicious; egg, gruyere and ham—delicious (and according to Clotilde, this is what they call complète). I also suspect these guys would make for a very satisfying dessert, with a scoop of pistachio ice cream and a nice smear of Nutella maybe?
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