Saute

I like this in winter with rice, or with mashed potatoes mixed, maybe, with mashed parsnip or another root vegetable. In summer, it’s good with almost anything from the garden.

People often asked me, as I was writing this book, What should I do with chicken breasts? I think they want to cook chicken breasts because they are lean (therefore supposedly good for you) and quick to prepare, but there’s that persistent problem that there are inevitably two to a package, too much for a single meal. Frankly, I see that not as a problem but as an asset, because, again, you have something to play with for a second round. Here is a basic recipe for cooking the chicken so that it is flavorful and not dried out; it can be varied in as many ways as there are vegetables in season. I confess that I prefer dark chicken meat over light; if you feel the same way, just substitute two leg-thigh pieces for the breast meat, and cook about 5 minutes longer.

Historically, I have not been a huge fan of Brussels sprouts, but now I LOOOOOVE them—and I especially love them cooked this way. I’ll admit this approach takes some time—you start by peeling all the leaves off the sprouts—but it’s so worth it for the fluttery, frizzled fabulousness that happens once you cook them. Also, I find separating the leaves helps get rid of that cabbagey flavor that people who think they don’t like Brussels sprouts complain about. Listen: If you think you don’t like Brussels sprouts, try these; I’ve made a lot of converts this way. The salty deliciousness of pancetta, the crunchy nuttiness of walnuts, and the delicate little leaves make this something special—not like any Brussels sprouts you’ve ever had.

Fava beans require some preparation, but to me it’s a labor of love. Shelling and peeling them may seem like a drag, but it’s SOOOOO worth the effort. Mix them with some luxurious mushrooms and sexy spring onions, and you end up with springtime on a plate. I love this combo so much I wish these veggies were in season all year long!

My mom used to make stuffed peppers, but I don’t like peppers. What I liked was the stuffing. So I’ve taken my mom’s recipe, tweaked it, and stuffed it in cabbage instead. I’ve also added chicken livers. The livers add an earthy richness that makes this dish super-special. If you don’t like chicken livers—or think you don’t—this is one time where you should get beyond the ick factor, accept that they’re worth adding, and move on . . . because this dish rocks.

I’m always looking for new things to do with calamari. It’s inexpensive, and if you buy it already cleaned—which I HIGHLY recommend—it’s super Q&E (quick and easy) to use. This recipe is fun because it takes minimum effort and you get maximum kudos at the dinner table.

I always say everything tastes better with bacon. And when fresh corn is at its peak and just screaming to be eaten, this recipe is unbeatable (it also reminds me of summer as a kid because it was always my job to shuck the corn). It’s the perfect combination of smoky, sweet, spicy, and bright—what more could you ask for, except maybe MORE!

Polpettini are delightful little Tuscan meatballs. I love them bite-size, but you can also take this mix and make one big log called a polpettone—either way, it’s delicious! And here’s a tip: For cute and easy serving, cut 1-inch rosemary sprigs to use as toothpicks.

For me, peppers are the gift that keeps on giving. Whenever I eat a roasted pepper it seems to stay with me forever. My sister, who’s a dietician, told me it’s because they have so little acid in them. Knowing this, I came up with a way to do two cool things—eat peppers without having them stick around all day and make a yummy peperonata—simply by adding a bit of sherry vinegar (a.k.a. acid) to the mix. The vinegar adds a lovely brightness to this dish, and the pimentón (smoked paprika) gives it a rich smokiness—both of which are unbelievably good with the creaminess of the goat cheese. Of course, you don’t have to serve this with goat cheese the way I do; you can make a batch of peperonata just to have in the fridge to throw on a sandwich—like a condiment—or to pull out and serve on bread when someone comes over for a drink. This is one of my personal super-secret flavor weapons!

I learned how to make this recipe in Tuscany, and who knew all these funky ingredients put together could taste SOOOOO delightful? Chicken livers? Anchovies? Capers? Believe it or not, all these super-strong personalities come together to make one really delicious pâté—and it’s so easy. Top this combo with some onions braised in balsamic vinegar and you’ve got yourself a super Tuscan!

I’m not a fan of the usual banana split because raw bananas taste too—how do I say this?—healthy for a sundae surrounded by all that other sweet chaos. So I add a little love and caramelize the bananas, which transforms them into a richly textured miracle and brings a buttery taste not available in your garden-variety banana split.

A mess of greens is the thing to serve with this golden fried covey and gravy.

When I was a kid, my mom cooked squash all the time because it grew (abundantly!) in our garden. I admit I had to learn to love it, and this is one of the ways I learned. Slow cooking and a touch of Parmesan bring out the natural sweetness of the squash. It’s also beautiful; the green and yellow colors really pop off the plate.

I think leeks are underappreciated by most and even intimidating to some people. They are featured in many recipes and restaurant dishes as an aromatic base flavor, but until my Brazilian friend Paolo served them to me this way, I’d never seen them as a proper side dish standing all on their own. They are part of the onion family and, as with onions, slow cooking will bring out their natural sugars. Patience is a real virtue here. Cook them too fast, over heat that’s too high, and they will burn. Slow, gentle heat will produce meltingly soft and sweet leeks that can be twirled on a fork like spaghetti. I love these with beef dishes such as Filets Mignons with Sweet Balsamic Reduction (page 108) or Flank Steak with Lime Marinade (page 105).

The most important thing about preparing filets mignons is to use a light hand with the steaks themselves. To bring out their melting tenderness, absolutely all they need is a little salt and pepper and to be sautéed in some butter or olive oil. Here, they are drizzled with an elegant reduced balsamic sauce with deep, almost molasses flavor and a welcome bite at the finish. Try this dish with Brazilian Leeks (page 142). The filets are also wonderful with the heartier Shiitake-Wine Sauce (page 167).

While in the port town of Fécamp in Normandy, France, I stopped for lunch at a tiny hotel-restaurant that had no more than four tables and was run by a husband-and-wife team who apparently did everything from the cooking to serving to making the beds themselves. The catch of the day was Dover sole and the chef served it lightly pan-fried and practically swimming in a bath of the most wonderful lemon-butter sauce I’d ever tasted. The Dover sole sold in Europe is a delicate flat fish native to European waters, including the English Channel on which the town of Fécamp sits. When I’m in the United States, I use Pacific Dover sole or another delicately flavored, fresh, flat fish from waters closer to home. This dish is excellent served with Broiled Asparagus (page 145).

The key to this recipe is to use butter from the northern French region of Normandy, or at the very least a European butter, either of which can be found in grocery stores or specialty food shops. Normandy butter contains more fat than American butter and tastes out of this world, especially in a recipe like this one that has just two main ingredients: succulent shrimp and rich butter.

I think Worcestershire has incredible potential. The regular store-bought sauce has great flavor but is too thin and a little light on the palate. So what I’ve done is fortify the bottled stuff with more of the ingredients typically found in Worcestershire sauce to create a thicker, richer version.

I totally owe this one to the brilliant simplicity of Hedy Goldsmith. A dessert panini? Why didn’t I think of that?! Now, dessert panini might not be your first thought, but this recipe brings a sweet new definition to the sandwich, tasting like a warm banana split in a cocoon of rich bread. If you own a panini press, then you already know that it invariably turns a regular sandwich into something irresistible. The texture contrast between the crunchy exterior and the soft, gooey interior is a big part of the sex appeal. The fleur de sel makes this dish; without the salty balance it would be way too sweet. This panini also rocks for brunch.