Mediterranean

Brilliant orange pumpkinlike squash fill the vegetable stands of Morocco and most other Mediterranean countries every fall, and they show up in stews, couscous, pasta, and soups like this.You may find the same squash in the States, but butternut, acorn, or sugar pumpkin—pumpkin grown for flavor, not size—are perfect substitutes and easy enough to find. (Canned pumpkin is an acceptable if not ideal alternative; drain it well.) Make this up to a day in advance, reserving the cream and cilantro to add just before serving.

Farinata, which is nearly identical to the socca of Provence, is a cross between firm polenta and a primitive pizza. To me it’s the perfect no-work Mediterranean appetizer, a great thing to have in your repertoire if you want to make sure there’s something warm for guests to eat when they arrive—or if you just want to round out a pasta dinner for the family on a weeknight. Keep the pepper mill nearby when you serve the farinata; it’s best with an almost perverse amount of freshly ground black pepper. You can buy chickpea flour at health food stores, Italian markets, Middle Eastern stores, and specialty food shops.

Its flavor bears no resemblance to real caviar, its ingredients (except for the salt) have nothing to do with caviar, but its texture—supposedly—is akin to that of caviar. If there are enough seeds in your eggplant—not necessarily a good thing—I suppose you could argue that its graininess is like that of caviar. In any case, it’s a wonderful spread for Crostini (page 41), as a dip for fresh vegetables, or as a stuffing for roasted peppers or tomatoes (pages 492).

Throughout the Mediterranean, you’ll find olives already on the table when you sit down to a meal. But they’re far different from the canned olives (usually Mission) routinely—and unfortunately—sold in supermarkets here. Not only are they a variety of different types; they’re simply but wonderfully seasoned. This easy treatment is so effective that most people are shocked at the results. Use an assortment of olives if at all possible—Kalamatas, some of the good green type, tiny Niçoises, and so on—and the olives will be not only beautiful but varied. You can make this recipe in any quantity, using the same proportions.

My wife, Angela, loves mussels, especially the fat, tender Mediterranean mussels you get in summer and early fall. Consequently, we eat a lot of them—steamed, in salads, with pastas, you name it. Light enough for a summer dish, this terrific soup is also delicious in the winter months made with Prince Edward Island (P.E.I.) mussels instead.

This dish’s vibrant, savory sauce is my version of muhamarra, a mildly spicy and slightly fruity Turkish red pepper condiment. It is easy to prepare and goes great with just about any grilled meat or fish (or with thick slices of grilled eggplant). Pole-caught yellowfin tuna is a good sustainable choice; its meaty texture and flavor stand up well to the thick pesto-like puree. Swordfish would be a good alternative, cooked the same way as the tuna. A green vegetable, baked or grilled eggplant, or rice pilaf would make a great side dish.

Creamy polenta provides a wonderful counterpoint to this hearty stew. To time everything right, bring the water to a boil while the chicken is browning, then add the polenta to the water when beginning step three of the chicken recipe.

The cooking time for lentils can vary widely depending on their age, as older lentils require more time. For the best results, buy a fresh, new bag. A mustard vinaigrette boosts the flavor of this Mediterranean-inspired dish.

Okay, I like tabouleh, but obviously not as much as the people in a town in the Metn district of Lebanon. They are listed in the Guinness World Records for making the world’s largest bowl of tabouleh. It weighed in at a hefty 1,514 kilograms. That’s 3,338 pounds of tabouleh. Where do you suppose they got a bowl that big?

I confess I’m not a big fan of boneless, skinless chicken breasts, which I find tasteless enough to be considered the tofu of meats (no offense, tofu lovers). Instead, for most purposes I almost always go for the thighs, with the bone in for more flavor and quicker, more even cooking. I like to leave the skin on, too; however, in a quick braise like this one, it can get too rubbery. This is a very stripped-down take on traditional Moorish flavor combinations; eat it with white or brown rice or farro (see page 143), which will soak up the complex sauce wonderfully.

Rice has for centuries been the obvious contender for stuffing a pepper—and indeed eggplant or a beefsteak tomato—flavored with caramelized onions, golden raisins, and musky raisins, and seasoned with capers, anchovies, cinnamon, or cumin. Small grains—cracked wheat, brown rice, the underused quinoa—are eminently suitable fillings, as is any type of small bean, lentil, or the plump, pearl-shaped couscous known as mograbiah. Vegetable stuffings can set the pepper alight. Piercing, cherrysized tomatoes, such as Sungold or Gardener’s Delight, or chunks of sweet steamed pumpkin offer more than just jewel colors to lift the spirits. They have a brightness of flavor very different from the humble, homely grains. They offer a change of step. A few hand-torn chunks of mozzarella and some olive oil will produce a seductive filling. Ground beef, the knee-jerk filling, somehow makes my heart sink. Mograbiah, sometimes known as pearl couscous, takes the idea on a bit, having the comforting, frugal qualities of rice but possessing an extraordinary texture, poised between pasta and couscous. Made of wheat and similar to Sardinian fregola, it is available at Middle Eastern markets.

There is a Spanish stall at the market. Each Saturday in midsummer I wait patiently at the counter while the jamon is carved. I am unsure which is more beautiful: the long, elegant leg on its steel stand or the fluid, methodical way in which the carver slices the gossamer-thin morsels of meat from the bone. I never take much, its price is breathtaking, but once home I savor every mouthful, as much out of respect for my wallet as for the pig. If I find young fava beans, or the ones in the garden are ready to pick, I marry the two—a simple plate of densely flavored, fat-besplodged ham the color of dried blood and fresh, bright-green beans. There is usually soup on the table too, watercress or spinach or fresh pea, and some scraps of dry, mild-tasting Manchego.

Tapenade is essentially puréed olives with other flavorings added. This is a pretty mild version, but if you like the sharp taste of Kalamata olives, feel free to add more.

Hummus is everywhere in Mediterranean cultures. In Greece, it is generally served as an appetizer, swimming in olive oil, accompanied by pita triangles, feta cheese and olives. In the United States, it is also served as a dip for raw vegetables, and often has other ingredients, such as roasted red peppers or pine nuts, blended right in. The basic formula is pretty simple: chickpeas (garbanzo beans), tahini (sesame butter), lemon juice, salt, and olive oil. Proportions of the basic ingredients may be varied in accordance with your taste. Less garlic, more garlic, less tahini . . . whatever. Play around with it and see what you get. Fattet is a sort of Middle Eastern layered casserole or salad. Taking a left turn at traditional, it occurred to me that you could easily make a sort of Middle Eastern tostada using some of the common ingredients found in the dish.

I really should have called this Lentil Inside-Out Salad. Here’s why: With most salads, you pour the dressing on at the end and coat the dish from the outside in. But in this salad, the lentils cool off in the fridge in a bath of dressing—in this case olive oil, vinegar, lemon, and cumin. They absorb all of this wonderful flavor, which is heightened by the addition of red bell pepper, kalamata olives, parsley, and mint. This Mediterranean delight is like a vacation to the island of Crete without leaving your home. Le Puy lentils are resilient little things that hold their shape well throughout the cooking process, making them perfect for a salad.

Try this Mediterranean-inspired stew with fresh corn on the cob; a salad of mixed baby greens, colorful bell peppers, and mushrooms; and some crusty bread spread with hummus.

Light on calories. More than delicious. We took the best of Mediterranean flavors and brought them together harmoniously in this fresh and delightful dish. Scrumptious shrimp and feta are baked with fresh herbs and tomatoes in a light sauce of wine and clam juice that is perfect for serving over a bed of linguini.

This Mediterranean-inspired dish not only is light and healthy, but also has depth of flavor with a contrast of textures and temperatures. Most home cooks tell me they’re intimidated by cooking fish with skin on; they find it tears or doesn’t crisp up as it should. There are two keys to success: one is patience and the other is a well-seasoned cast-iron pan, preferably one that has gone through generations of use. The second alternative is to cheat and use a nonstick frying pan.

I love thinking of alternatives to your classic steak and potatoes. This main course salad is hearty without being heavy and contains all of the elements of a balanced meal—meat, starch, and vegetables. Grilled beef, crisp fennel, chewy fregola (see Note), and bright oranges are finished with a drizzle of briny green olive tapenade in this Mediterranean-inspired skirt steak salad. Varying texture and temperature play a powerful role in the makeup of this dish, adding a whole other dimension. I’m a believer that opposites do attract; hot and cold—the grilled meaty steak and the cool crunchy salad—play off each other. Tapenade is a rich olive spread popular in the Mediterranean. The salty earthiness of green olive tapenade is the perfect complement for pasta, spread for crostini, or topping for baked sweet potatoes. Visit your market’s olive bar and purchase high-quality green olives; leave the little pimento-stuffed ones for martinis.