In my post about Pissaladière, I mentioned my father’s signature vinaigrette. That small hint created a lot of curiosity, and many readers asked for the recipe. The request was relayed to my father, and here is his response in full:
Perhaps the time has come to share the so-called secret of CDV (“Clotilde’s Daddy’s Vinaigrette”) with the world. Keeping things secret is one thing; being selfish is another. This vinaigrette has been a family tradition for generations, passed down from father to son. I have only two daughters and no son to inherit this small duty, so I will reveal what I can.
First, making a vinaigrette is not only an art; it is also a science. Several factors matter:
– the list of ingredients
– their quality
– their quantities, both relative and absolute
– the size, shape and material of the bowl and spoon
Other parameters influence the result as well, though for a basic vinaigrette we can set many of them aside. For completeness, examples include:
– the room temperature
– the atmospheric pressure
– the direction and strength of the wind (you cannot use the exact same technique when a gentle breeze is present and when you are facing a gale)
On the subject of oil: I prefer sunflower oil. Of course, the fanciful description of sunflowers grown on a tiny Breton plot and harvested at the solstice by robed druids is a bit of playful exaggeration, but the point is that ingredient quality matters. Choose a fresh, mild-tasting sunflower oil or another neutral oil you like; it will carry the other flavors without overpowering them.
For vinegar, anecdotal stories about using vinegar from preserved Ukrainian gherkins highlight the idea that unusual vinegars bring a distinctive character. In practice, select a vinegar with a flavor profile you enjoy—white wine vinegar, sherry vinegar, or a light balsamic are all good choices depending on the dish. Avoid overpowering vinegars unless you intend them to be the star.
I use marine salt, such as a flaky sea salt or other coarse sea salt. Salt quality and texture affect how the dressing rounds out, so choose one that dissolves well and highlights the other ingredients.
As for mustard, classic Dijon-style mustard is traditional and reliable. A smooth Dijon like Maille works well, and a stronger mustard such as Amora can be used if you prefer more bite. Mustard acts as an emulsifier and contributes sharpness and depth.
Now for the practical advice: proportions and technique matter more than myths about mystical ingredients. A common and versatile approach is to start with a basic ratio—typically three parts oil to one part vinegar—then adjust to taste. Add a small spoonful of mustard and a pinch of salt, whisking or shaking vigorously to create an emulsion. Taste and tweak: a little more vinegar if you like brightness, a touch more oil if you prefer a milder dressing, a dash of pepper or a pinch of sugar if needed to balance acidity.
While family lore might warn against revealing exact measurements or the so-called “Magic Ratio” (with playful formulas involving millilitres and leaf surface areas), the truth is that once you have high-quality ingredients and understand the balance of acid, fat and seasoning, you can adapt the dressing to suit different salads, leaves and personal preferences.
In short: use a clean, neutral oil like sunflower, a vinegar you enjoy, good sea salt, and a reliable Dijon mustard. Combine them in roughly a 3:1 oil-to-vinegar ratio, emulsify well, and adjust by taste. With those principles you’ll have a versatile vinaigrette that can be adapted and made your own—just as my family has done for years.