Anchovy

This recipe requires no cooking and is served cold, so it makes a perfect low-carb on-the-go lunch, or a picnic for the park as well! Pack the dressing with an ice pack to keep it chilled out. If you think you don’t like anchovies, try them in this dressing. They just taste salty and yummy!

This quick pasta has big flavors and lots of texture. Salty, sweet, crunchy—Delish!

Wade, my good friend and coworker for many years, joined me at a fancy restaurant in Las Vegas in honor of our friend Lucky’s birthday. He saw me cringe as he politely asked our server to request that the chef prepare a “Chicken Caesar” for him. The broad menu of culinary creations just struck him as too complicated for a late-night-following-a-long-workday meal. I rolled my eyes and the server gave a bit of a twitch. In hindsight, I have rarely been so ashamed of my own behavior: me, an Upstate New York blue-collar girl, suddenly acting too haughty to even sit with someone who would request a Chicken Caesar outside of a highway pit stop. Chef Eric Klein at SW at the Wynn Las Vegas Hotel made Wade a fabulous free-range roast chicken Caesar salad. Eric was neither shocked nor insulted by the simple request. Instead, he made a humble visit to the table to remind us all of the Golden Rule of food: the customer is always right. Wade, this burger is for you. Viva Chicken Caesar!

This is my favorite fish dish in the book. Try it and you’ll taste why.

Anchovies work magic here. Once they melt they will not taste fishy; they’ll taste more like salted nuts, really. Plus, anchovies in any seafood sauce I serve are the secret ingredient that makes the eaters go “Hmm, what is that?” (Don’t tell anyone my secret, k?)

Serve with a green salad.

The oldest recipe for lamb I could find is for a shoulder of mutton or lamb—a membre de mouton à la judaïque—which comes from Pierre de Lune’s 1656 cookbook, Le Cuisinier, où Il Est Traité de la Véritable Méthode pour Apprester Toutes Sortes de Viandes . . . This recipe calls for lots of garlic and anchovies to be embedded in a shoulder of lamb with herbes de Provence. The pan juices are reduced with the juice of an orange and enhanced with white pepper and orange peel. The title of this recipe is one of the first known uses of “judaïque” (“Jewish style”) in a French recipe. Don’t forget that, “officially,” no Jews lived in France at this time. Here is my adaptation 350 years later.

Once, I asked two-star Michelin chef Thierry Marx of Cordeillan-Bages in Pauillac, the greatest wine-producing area of France, why he uses beets in so many of his dishes—beets for color, beets for sweetness, beets for texture, and beet borscht purée. He replied that he likes to play with the flavors and shapes of his childhood, reminding him of his Jewish grandmother from Poland, who raised him in Paris. “Cooking is a transmission of love,” he told me. One wouldn’t necessarily think of the food Thierry serves in his stunning restaurant as particularly Jewish—it is so molecular, so Japanese (because of where he studied), and so French (because of where he grew up). The dining room of the château, decked out in sleek blackand-white furniture with hints of red, looks out on a vineyard laden with ripe dark grapes ready for picking. But when the bread basket arrived, it contained what looked like a miniature chocolate or poppy-seed babka. My first bite, though, told me that I had still been fooled. This trompe l’oeil was in fact a savory babka, filled with olives, anchovies, and fennel—a delicious French take on a sweet Polish and Jewish classic.

I order steak tartare in restaurants whenever it’s on the menu. When you serve it at home it’s important to seek a fine butcher who can provide you with the best-quality beef. You can make the Parmigiano baskets the morning of the party and store them covered at room temperature; they will still have an amazing snap hours later. The trick for success with this is not to use “green can” grated cheese, which will not melt evenly; you have to buy the good stuff. Once you get the hang of making Parmigiano-Reggiano frico you can really crank them out. The tops of water or soda bottles are ideal for forming the Parmigiano cups. I also like to make flat frico as a crunchy garnish for Caesar salads.

This is a fat, stuffed vegetable sandwich that’s great for a picnic. The olive tapenade is also good spooned on bread toasts and served as an hors d’oeuvre.

Chicken Cacciatore is a dish that time has forgotten. It’s simple, rustic, and truly Italian, and my buddy Frankie DeCarlo likes it, too. I would serve this with Soft Polenta (page 244). If cutting up a chicken intimidates you, buy precut pieces or have the guy at the meat counter do it for you—that’s his job, right?

The Green Goddess dressing is also terrific on salad or as a dip for crudités. It will keep for up to a week in the refrigerator stored in a jar or airtight container.

The clams in this dish are steamed with tomatoes, fresh basil, and red pepper flakes. The flavors are simple and delicious. Dinner in under an hour never tasted so good.