In my post about Pissaladière, I mentioned my father’s signature vinaigrette. That hint didn’t go unnoticed—many readers asked for the recipe. I passed the request along to my father, and now I’ll step aside and let him answer:
Perhaps the time has come to reveal the secret recipe for CDV (“Clotilde’s Daddy’s Vinaigrette”) to the eager world. Guarding a family recipe is one thing; keeping it to oneself out of selfishness is another. This vinaigrette has been a family secret for generations, passed from father to son. I have only two daughters—lovely, bright, charming, and adorable—and no son to carry on the tradition. So here it is.
First, understand that making a vinaigrette is not just an art—it’s also a science. Consider carefully:
– the list of ingredients
– their quality
– their quantity, both relative and absolute
– the size, material, shape, and depth of the bowl and spoon
There are other important parameters, of course, which I’ll set aside for now since this is Vinaigrette 101. For the record, a few of them include:
– the room temperature
– the atmospheric pressure
– the direction and force of the wind (you can’t use the same technique in a calm southwesterly breeze as you would in a fierce northerly gale)
I use sunflower oil—carefully selected, high-quality oil. In jest, one might imagine a tiny Breton plot harvested at midsummer under ritual, but in practice choose a fresh, light sunflower oil you trust.
My vinegar is bright and tangy. The article’s previous flourish about Ukrainian gherkin brine was playful; for a reliable flavor, use a clean, crisp vinegar that complements your oil—white wine vinegar or a mild cider vinegar work well. Avoid vinegars that overpower the other ingredients.
I use sea salt, preferably a fine-flaked variety from a reputable source. A small pinch will enhance the flavors without making the dressing taste salty.
For mustard, Dijon is ideal. Maille’s Dijon mustard is a classic choice; if you prefer a stronger flavor, an extra-forte mustard like Amora can be used. Dijon provides the emulsifying power and that subtle bite that balances oil and vinegar.
At this point you might wonder whether I should really reveal more of the family secrets. The ancestors might raise an eyebrow. I haven’t disclosed the exact proportions or my so-called Magic Ratio (the joke about vinegar milliliters per square inch of lettuce is a family quirk), but once you have good ingredients and an understanding of balance, you can adapt the quantities to taste.
Basic method: combine mustard, vinegar, and a pinch of salt first, whisk until blended, then slowly drizzle in the oil while whisking continuously to form a smooth emulsion. Taste and adjust—more vinegar if you want brightness, more oil if you prefer mellowness, a touch more mustard for stability and bite, and a final pinch of salt to bring everything together. Freshly ground pepper or a small amount of finely chopped shallot can be added if you like.
Good vinaigrette relies on quality ingredients, careful proportions, and attentive mixing. With those elements in place, you’ll soon find the balance that suits your salad—and perhaps one day you’ll pass the recipe on, too.