Who, from the tumps with bright green mosses clad,
Plucks the wood sorrel, with its light thin leaves,
Heart-shaped, and triply folded; and its root
Creeping like beaded coral...



All summer long, I've purchased sorrel from a farmer who repeatedly thanks me for appreciating her labor of love. It's really all my pleasure. Sorrel is so mysterious-- a green not bitter but rather quilted with a citrus-y flavor as intense as the seasoning on a dorito. But, of course, all natural.



Tonight I served a rough chiffonade of sorrel with roasted beets, fried goat cheese, and a creamy balsamic vinaigrette. The salad needs a little fine tuning (I want a softer, tangier chevre, maybe the cheese should be peppered before it's fried, etc.), but I'm sold on this combination of flavors, colors, and textures.