Shad the largest member of the herring family, migrates to the rivers of the East Coast every spring. It’s a big, bony fish (filleting it properly is an increasingly rare skill) with moist flesh that is not unlike that of salmon. But its huge egg sacs, which come in pairs held together by a thin membrane, are the real attraction. They’re filled with millions of eggs, which, if they are not overcooked, remain creamy and rich in a way that is reminiscent of fine organ meat—not quite foie gras, but not that far away either. As a bonus, the exterior membrane becomes slightly crisp. Most shad roe is sadly overcooked, but this need not be the case. Keep the cooking time for shad roe short, just long enough to firm up the roe and cook it to the equivalent of medium-rare. (It’s okay to cut into it for a look-see the first couple of times you try this, but it’s also pretty easy to get the hang of it, because the change in texture is rather dramatic.) Note that this recipe serves two; it’s easy enough to double, however; just use two skillets instead of one to avoid crowding the roe.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Among the top tier of sauces is Indonesian satay sauce, because it is the embodiment of joy and life. In fact, this sauce is also trustworthy and highly respectful of whatever it comes into contact with—perhaps it is, in fact, the perfect friend?
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
I should address the awkward truth that I don’t use butter here but cream instead. You could, if you’re a stickler for tradition (and not a heretic like me), add a big slab of butter to the finished curry.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.
This classic 15-minute sauce is your secret weapon for homemade mac and cheese, chowder, lasagna, and more.