Bacon

SMART SUBSTITUTION This seemingly rich summer chowder leaves out the cream; instead, it’s thickened with the starch from a russet potato as well as some flour, and just one cup of milk.

WHY IT’S LIGHT How do you trim the fat and calories from a beloved salad? Scale back on the bacon, use only the whites of hard-cooked eggs, and make the dressing with low-fat buttermilk and light mayonnaise. Then, fold a modest amount of blue cheese into the dressing, instead of crumbling it over the salad.

WHY IT’S LIGHT The beloved combination of spaghetti, bacon, and eggs (as in spaghetti carbonara) can still fit within a low-fat diet by replacing some of the pasta with wilted frisée. Top each serving with some crisped bacon pieces and a fried egg.

WHY IT’S LIGHT This dish only sounds indulgent. It stays trim by combining a modest piece of bacon-wrapped fish with a generous salad. Thick fillets of any firm, flaky, and mild fish, such as halibut, haddock, or striped bass, would work well here.

GOOD TO KNOW Briefly sautéing the rice before adding the broth gives it a nutty flavor. Near-constant stirring as the rice cooks releases its starches, helping the dish become creamy. Here, just two slices of bacon add ample richness, so no butter or oil is needed.

WHY IT’S LIGHT In this version of a Southern staple, the grits are enriched with a little butter, but no cheese. The shrimp are cooked in a quick tomato sauce seasoned with smoky bacon, onion, and hot sauce.

Brussels sprouts look like tiny cabbages, and indeed they are part of the cabbage family. Though they come in both red and green, the green variety is by far the more common. Brussels sprouts grow on tall, heavy stalks and make quite a dramatic sight when sold still on the stalk at the farmers’ market. Choose smaller sprouts that are tightly closed, bright in color, and have no yellowing leaves. They should feel firm and heavy for their size. To prepare the sprouts, remove and discard any damaged outer leaves and trim the stem, cutting it close up to the bottom of the sprout. Brussels sprouts can be cooked whole or cut up, or all the leaves can be separated from the core. Give the prepared sprouts a quick wash and drain them before using.

Bucatini is the classic pasta for this sauce.

A poached egg is easily cooked, incredibly nutritious, economical, and easily served at any meal. Poached eggs perched on a buttered toasted slice of tender bread is a perfect breakfast; a shimmering bowl of chicken broth served with an egg poached in it is a nourishing lunch that can generate a warm sense of well-being; and curly endive tossed in a warm vinaigrette with bacon and topped with a poached egg is a favorite dinner salad of mine—the egg enriching the vinaigrette as it coats the leaves. A poached egg is cracked from its shell and cooked in water, stock, or, sometimes, wine until the white has just solidified and the yolk has heated through. The poaching liquid should be very hot, but without any bubbles breaking the surface. This gentle still heat keeps the white tender and helps the egg keep its shape while cooking. Fresh eggs are best. A fresh egg cracked onto a plate has a thick, jellylike white that clings to the deep orange yolk, which stands up plump and high. As eggs age, their flavor dissipates and their whites thin out to the point of being watery at the edges, making it difficult to poach one with any success. Use a heavy pan for even heat dispersal, which helps keep the eggs from sticking to the bottom. If a heavy pan is not available, use a flame tamer. A relatively shallow pan will make it easier to remove the eggs from the hot water. I use a low-sided saucepan. Fill the pan with water 2 to 3 inches deep, add a large splash of vinegar, and put the pan over a medium fire. The vinegar speeds the coagulation of the whites, keeping them from billowing out into the water. Use good-tasting vinegar, as you will be able to taste it slightly. I add about 1 tablespoon to 4 cups of water, but if you particularly like the flavor of vinegar on your eggs (and it is delicious), add more. When poaching eggs in soup or broth don’t use the vinegar. Carefully, without breaking the yolks, crack the eggs into individual cups or small bowls. This way you can easily remove any fragments of eggshell and it will be easier to slip each egg gently into the water; and if you do break a yolk, you can set it aside for another use. When the water is very hot, but not bubbling, hold the cup right at the level of the water and carefully slide the egg in. This gentle entry into the water will help the egg keep its shape. After a minute you can gently stir the water a while to discourage the eggs from sticking to the bottom of the pan. Use care, though; the eggs are very delicate until the whites are set. Lower the heat if the water begins to simmer. The cooking time will vary depending on the number of eggs, their size, and the temperature they were when they went into the water. On average, a single large egg straight from the refrigerator will take about 3 minutes to cook. The white will be set but the yolk will still be soft; for a firmer yolk allow up to 5 minutes. Test for doneness by gently lifting the egg with a slotted spoon and pressing it gently with your finger to feel how set the white and yolk are. Carefully remove the cooked eggs and drain for a moment on a towel, blotting the top very gently to dry. When cooking for a crowd, freshly poached eggs can be kept for a few minutes in a bowl of warm water or stock while another batch is being cooked.

Good choices for stew meat are oxtails, shanks, beef chuck, short ribs, pork shoulder, beef cheeks, lamb shoulder, and lamb neck. These cuts all have lots of connective tissue and fat to make them tender and full of flavor. For stew, the meat is cut into smaller pieces. Have your butcher cut bony cuts such as short ribs and lamb shanks into 2-inch lengths. Cut boneless meat such as chuck or shoulder into 1 1/2-inch cubes. The pieces may be cut larger for a more rustic stew, but cut any smaller they tend to fall apart when cooked. If you are buying beef that has already been cut up for stew, ask what cut it is from. Most meat counters use top and bottom round, which I find too lean to make a good stew; they cook up dry. Ask the butcher to cut some chuck into stew meat for you instead, or buy a large piece and cut it at home. Season the meat with salt and pepper. If you have the time, season it a day ahead. If you make a marinade, stir the meat now and then while it is marinating; this will help the marinade flavor the meat evenly. Any vegetables in the marinade I first cook slightly in a bit of oil, for more flavor. Let them cool before adding to the meat. Brown the meat well in a fair amount of oil, lard, or fat. Don’t crowd the pieces; brown them in as many batches as necessary. You can use the same oil for each batch as long as the pan does not burn. If it does, wipe out the pan and continue with fresh oil. When the meat is browned, drain the fat from the pan and deglaze the pan with wine, tomatoes, broth, or water. Short ribs and oxtails are some of my favorite stewing cuts, because they make such a flavorful sauce. These cuts can be browned in the oven: Preheat the oven to 450°F; lay the meat out on a rack in a shallow pan; and cook until the meat is brown and the fat is rendered. With this method there is no pan to deglaze, but it is quicker and easier than browning on the stovetop. If the aromatic vegetables are to be left in the stew, cut them into even, medium-size pieces. If they are to be discarded at the end, leave them in large chunks, for easy removal. Put the vegetables, meat, and deglazing liquid into a pot. Choose a pot large enough to accommodate the meat in two, or possibly three, layers. If the meat is piled higher than this, the bottom layer will cook and fall apart before the upper layers are done. Stirring doesn’t really help this much, and the chance of sticking and burning is much greater. Add broth or water, as the recipe asks, almost to the top of the meat, but do not submerge it. When I am using a marinade that is mostly wine, I like to reduce it (boil it down) by half or more before adding it to the pot. This removes the raw taste of the wine and allows room for more broth, which makes a richer sauce. Bring the liquid to a boil, then turn the heat down to a bare simmer, and cover the pot. Use a flame tamer if necessary to keep the stew from boiling. Or cook the stew in a preheated 325°F oven. If the stew boils hard there’s a good chance the meat will fall apart and the sauce emulsify (the fat and the liquid bind together, which makes the sauce murky). Check the pot now and then to monitor the cooking and the level of the liquid; add more broth or water if needed. Cook until the meat is very tender. This will take anywhere from 2 to 4 hours depending on what cut is being used. There should be very little or no resistance when the meat is poked with a small knife or skewer. When the meat is done, skim the sauce well, removing as much of the fat as you can. This is much easier to do after the simmering has stopped and the liquid has had a chance to settle. The sauce may be strained, but do so carefully: the meat is very delicate now and can fall apart. If the stew is being served another day, the fat can be simply lifted off after chilling in the refrigerator. Thicken a thin or watery sauce with a mixture of one part flour stirred together with one part soft butter. Wh...

It’s no secret that I love mascarpone cheese—and who doesn’t love bacon? Stir them together and you have a super-creamy, elegant dip that tastes like the most decadently topped baked potato you’ve ever had. The mix is surprisingly versatile, too: thin it down a bit with milk and use it as a dressing for greens or a sauce for salmon or chicken.

Adding both bacon and pancetta to these potatoes may seem like overkill, but trust me—they pack a great one-two punch. The bacon gives the potatoes a smoky flavor, and the pancetta lends meaty substance. These go quickly, so make a double recipe or you’ll find yourself with an empty serving dish before you know it.

I recently served this roast for the Thanksgiving holiday, thinking a departure from the usual turkey would be a welcome surprise—and it definitely was. The sweetness from the mustards absorbs into the meat, while the bacon keeps it nice and moist and adds a wonderful smokiness. Served over a lightly dressed fresh arugula salad, this will become a fast favorite—I promise.

This is about as unlikely a dish as I’ve ever come across, a soupy combination containing little more than the two main ingredients and canned tomatoes. Not only does the thought of it tweak the mind doesn’t this sound something like a bread sandwich?—but it counters a number of the conventions that have been drummed into our collective consciousness. Chief among these is that the dish is at its best when the pasta is cooked until it is fat, juice-laden, and quite soft. Here there is no need to seize the ideal moment at which the pasta is al dente; in fact you cook the pasta somewhat past that point, and it is even acceptable for it to sit for a while. Nor need you worry about the “correct” pasta shape; pasta with potatoes requires several different shapes, in varying quantities, preferably broken (it began as a way to use up the bits and pieces of dried pasta lying around in the cupboard). Finally, not only may you serve pasta with potatoes as a leftover, but it’s just as good after sitting for a day. So feel free to make a half batch of this pasta if you like, but since it’s no more work to make this amount and it keeps for days, I advise making the full recipe.

In its homeland of Alsace, choucroute garnie is no more special than a frank and sauerkraut, with which it has much in common. But while the French treat this archetypally hearty combination of sauerkraut, spices, wine, and smoked meats as common fare, here it has become the province of restaurants. In any case, choucroute is a flexible combination of wintertime staples, the perfect cold-weather dish, featuring sauerkraut cooked in a little goose fat (or duck fat or lard) and wine, then “garnished”—this is some garnish—with a variety of candidly heavy meats, some smoked, some fresh or salted. Note that good sauerkraut does not come in cans but is sold fresh from barrels or in plastic. It should contain no more than cabbage and salt—beyond that, the less the better.

There is no more celebratory food than goose, but when it is roasted it is difficult to carve and can be disappointing. Braising it, especially with fruit, is a different approach that works brilliantly. Any dried fruit can be used in this preparation, but dried pears hold their shape better and are a little less sweet than prunes and apricots; there’s no reason you can’t substitute, however, or combine.