Jean-Pierre Moullé and his wife, Denise Moullé, join forces to document their culinary journey together from France and Californian wine country. 

When I was a girl growing up in Bordeaux, the winters were rigorous—long, cold, and dark. We ate hearty food to keep ourselves warm in the drafty, virtually uninsulated eighteenth-century château where I grew up. The food was traditional, with the same dishes reappearing often. We relied on late fall crops, with hearty vegetables that could take a little frost, like cauliflower, doing a great deal for our diet. Our chickens helped round out our diets with a reliable source of fresh eggs. This deserving salad, which I ate more often then I care to remember as a girl, makes me nostalgic for my mother’s table. I make it often, thinking of her bustling presence, unfailingly to be found hard at work in the kitchen. —Denise