Hindoo Salad
Arrange four slices tomato on a bed of shredded lettuce. On two of the slices pile shaved celery, on the opposite slices, finely cut watercress. Garnish with small pieces of tomato shaped with circular cutter, and serve with French Dressing.
A plated composed salad rather than a tossed one, and the whole point is the contrast of the two toppings against the tomato. It comes together in minutes once the vegetables are cold and dry.
- Yield is unstatedFour tomato slices with two toppings reads as a single composed plate, or two smaller ones. Scale by counting slices, not weight.
- "Shaved celery"The recipe does not specify the cut; paper-thin slices, ideally from the pale inner ribs, suit the pile. Ten minutes in ice water makes the shavings curl and crisp; drain and dry them thoroughly or they will thin the dressing.
- French Dressing, 1896 senseFrench Dressing -- The cross-reference points to the book's own recipe: oil, vinegar, salt and pepper beaten together, with no mustard, garlic or emulsifier. Check the proportions there rather than assuming a modern ratio. Not the sweet orange bottled dressing sold under the name today.
- Circular cutterA small plain round cutter, an apple corer or the wide end of a piping tip will punch the tomato rounds used for garnish. Cut them from a firm slice so they hold their edge.
- Dress at the last momentTomato and watercress both weep on contact with salt and acid. Assemble the plates, then spoon the dressing over as they go out.
- WatercressUse the leaves and the tender upper stems, chopped fine; the thick lower stems are stringy. Peppery arugula is the closest substitute if watercress is unavailable, though it wilts faster.
- TomatoesSlices need to be firm enough to carry a pile of celery, so a dense slicing tomato cut fairly thick; thickness is not specified in the recipe. Overripe fruit collapses under the topping.
This belongs to a run of salads in Fannie Farmer's book named for distant places, where the name signals novelty and a touch of the exotic rather than any actual connection to the cuisine invoked. Nothing in the ingredients or method is Indian; the dish is celery, watercress, tomato and an oil-and-vinegar dressing, all thoroughly American icebox fare. What it does record is the state of the salad course in late-nineteenth-century Boston: individually composed on the plate, built for visual contrast, garnished with shapes cut from the same vegetable, and dressed only at service.