My mother loved to entertain, and I remember many evenings as a child reluctantly trudging upstairs to bed, falling asleep to the sound of vehement discussions and accompanying laughter floating up to my darkened bedroom. One of her rules was that she never tried a new recipe out on her guests, preferring instead to stay with the tried and true.

Me, I think there's no better excuse to try something you've never made before than having folks over. I first tried out a new (to me) sauce called "pesto" on guests—it was a smashing success—and over the years there have been myriad salads, braised meats and desserts that were, for the most part, well received. Though I have to admit there were a (very) few that, how shall I put it, will never be spoken of, or made, again.

So when a friend invited us to bring an appetizer for dinner the other night, I mulled over the usual suspects…dips, wings, crostini/bruschetta, etc.…but nothing really clicked. Plus I really didn't want to make a trip to the store. So I looked around and took stock: tomatoes and kale from our weekly CSA, and onions, garlic and parmesan in the pantry. Then I remembered a photo of an amazing tomato tart I'd seen on the cover of a cookbook, and the deal, as they say, was sealed.

The book's version was made with all sizes and colors of tomatoes, so it fit perfectly with what I had on hand—though it would have been terrific with simple red tomatoes, too. The thin layer of sautéed kale and parmesan tucked underneath was just the right bass note for the bright acidic treble of the fresh tomatoes. And the dinner that night, with great food, wine and friends laughing and talking, was one my mother would have loved. Even if I broke one of her rules.

Tomato, Kale and Parmesan Tart

For the crust:
1 1/4 c. flour
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 c. (1 stick) frozen margarine, cut into 1/2" pieces
2-3 Tbsp. ice water

For the filling:
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1/2 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
4-6 leaves kale, sliced into chiffonade
1/2 c. parmesan, grated fine
3-4 tomatoes, sliced in 1/4" thick slices (cherry tomatoes can be halved)

Preheat oven to 375°.

Put flour and salt in the bowls of a food processor and pulse to combine. Add pieces of butter and pulse until the texture of cornmeal. With processor running, drizzle in water until it comes together in the bowl. (I usually use 2 1/2 Tbsp. and it comes together well without being too wet.) Remove from bowl, adding in any stray bits, wrap in plastic and refrigerate at least 1/2 hour.

Roll out dough on floured surface to make 12" round. Transfer to 9" diameter tart pan with removable bottom. Trim edges, leaving 3/4" overhang. Fold overhang in to form double-thick sides. Press tart edges to raise dough 1/8" above pan. Chill in refrigerator for 30 min.

Add olive oil to non-stick skillet and heat until oil shimmers. Add chopped onion and garlic and sauté until golden, stirring frequently to avoid browning. Add kale chiffonade and sauté until wilted. Remove from heat and set aside.

Line crust with foil and bake until golden, about 20 min. Remove from oven and cool slightly. Scatter kale mixture over the bottom of the crust, then sprinkle with parmesan. Top with single layer of tomatoes, arranging randomly. Place in oven and bake for 40 min. or until crust is browned and tomatoes are cooked through. Let cool slightly and remove outer ring. Slide off bottom onto serving platter. Serve warm or at room temperature. (And I hear the leftovers are great for breakfast the next day.)

As sad as I was to bid farewell to the sweetness of summer lettuces and greens, I have to say I started drooling at the prospect of the bitter bite of the hearty chicories that would soon be filling market stalls and greengrocers' shelves. As versatile as brassicas in everything from salads to soups and stir-fries, the split heads can even take the char from a grill, griddle or broiler.

Right now is the peak moment to check out the rainbow of colors and textures available from local farms—and you'll find the best prices on them at the farmers' market! It's a task I'm completely signed up for, obviously, and fortunately my Stoneboat Farm CSA includes them in its shares almost every week.

If you happen to be averse to the intensity of chicory's bitterness, you can take a page from Nostrana's Chef Cathy Whims and soak the chopped leaves in ice water for a couple of hours ahead of time.

Lately I've been enjoying winter salads by chopping them into salads with a variety of other seasonally appropriate greens and condiments. One green in particular that seems to beautifully complement chicory's bitterness is deep green lacinato kale, sweetened as it always is this time of year by the frosts that cause the plants to flood the leaves with sugars to keep them from freezing. I also love that it adds a dark contrast to the chicory's bright colors, and its bubbly texture adds a soft crunch to the mix.

The variations are endless: I've thrown in crushed hazelnuts, green onions, sweet peppers, chopped beets, capers, dried cranberries—you name it, I've probably tried it. And a sprinkling of grated parmesan or crumbled blue cheese is not a bad idea, either. I like a creamy dressing (see below) but a classic Caesar dressing, a sweet mustard vinaigrette or even a fig and balsamic dressing would all do this salad justice.

"A Few of My Favorite Things" Chicory Salad

For the dressing:
3 Tbsp. mayonnaise
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
2 Tbsp. rice vinegar
1 clove garlic, pressed in a garlic press
1 Tbsp. white miso
Herbs, finely chopped (I like dried or fresh tarragon or thyme, as well as chopped chives)
1 tsp. honey (optional)

For the salad:
Radicchio or chicory leaves, chopped into 1" pieces
Lacinato kale, chopped into 1/4" chiffonade
Condiments like crushed hazelnuts, slivered green onions, chopped sweet peppers, chopped beets, capers, etc.
Grated parmesan or crumbled blue cheese (optional)

For the dressing, combine ingredients in a small bowl and stir until smooth.

Combine salad ingredients in appropriately sized salad bowl, drizzle with dressing of your choice and toss.