I was fortunate enough to be one of the thousands of children taught and cared for by deputy head Megan Williams at Crabtree infants school in the late 1970s. I like to think I can remember her voice; I can certainly picture the way her eyes (behind large glasses) and the whole of her long body moved when she told stories, all of us sitting on a square of carpet in the corner of the room. I also remember how she would encourage us to say words we liked several times, enjoying the feel of every letter, tadpole-tadpole-tadpole, raspberry-raspberry-raspberry, mud-mud-mud. A few years later, another teacher introduced me to the idea that any word, even the most tedious, said enough times, becomes incredibly funny. Then, even more years later, when I was at drama school and overthinking every word and phrase, these two bits of advice met and became one: top-full of direst cruelty … top-full of direst cruelty …top-full of direst cruelty.
These days, I am more interested in being Eliza Acton than Lady Macbeth, therefore salad cream … salad cream … salad cream; beautiful, funny, and delicious, both slapped from a bottle and homemade. Although more correctly, Eliza calls it “English sauce for salad” in Modern Cookery for Private Families, which was first published in 1845. Sauce for salad of course requires salad, and what better than a salad from my 1970s childhood: butterhead lettuce, radish and egg?
When it comes to serving, I think this salad is best on individual plates or, better still, in shallow bowls, which means that everyone can decide if they want the leaves and eggs whole or cut into smaller pieces; how much dressing they want; how they want to toss everything together. So, divide the leaves and radish coins between four plates and top each with two eggs and pass around the jug of dressing. Boiled and thickly sliced beetroot dressed with a little vinegar is brilliant alongside this salad (again, served on the side so everyone can decide how they want to distribute the beetroot and the colour), as is white, sliced, buttered bread … buttered bread … buttered bread.
Lettuce, radish, egg and salad cream
Prep 15 min
Cook 10 min
Serves 4
2 soft butterhead lettuces
A big bunch of radishes, with leaves
10 eggs
2 tsp caster sugar
1 tsp English mustard
A pinch of cayenne pepper
150ml double cream
2 tbsp white wine, tarragon or cider vinegar
Salt
Buttered bread, to serve
Hard boileight of the eggs for eight minutes, and leave the other two for 10 minutes. As soon as they are out of the boiling water, cover the eggs with cold water, crack and peel: the first eight are for the salad, the yolks from the other two are for the dressing.
Working in a mixing bowl, use the back of a spoon to mash the two yolks with the caster sugar, english mustard and a pinch of cayenne pepper. Stirring or whisking constantly, add the 150ml double cream, a little at a time, stirring until the consistency is smooth. Still stirring or whisking, add up to two tablespoons white wine, tarragon or cider vinegar, and salt, until you are happy with the taste. Pour the salad dressing into a jug. If you make it in a food processor, with an immersion blender, remember to pulse.
Pull apart the lettuces, and chop the leaves from the radishes and wash and dry both together. Rip any larger leaves, but leave the smaller ones whole. Slice the radishes into thin discs.
Share the leaves between four plates and top each with two eggs, halved. Allow everyone to pour over their own dressing. Serve with buttered bread.
• This article was amended on 25 June 2024. Megan Williams was at Crabtree infants school not Batford nursery school as an earlier version said.
