Blue Cheese

For the spread on this sandwich, we mix the cream cheese with a full-flavored blue, but you could mix in Major Grey’s chutney instead for a tasty alternative. I like to roast a whole bone-in turkey breast and serve it one night for dinner, then use the rest for sandwiches or salad. However, any good-quality precooked sliced turkey breast will work. I would eat this with a bowl of Cream of Celery Soup (p. 141) for an easy, comforting weeknight dinner.

This irresistible combination of pungent and sweet flavors—figs, blue cheese, walnuts, and deeply flavored sherry vinaigrette—explains why this house salad flies out the door at Herbsaint.

Chances are that this irresistible green salad, one of the simplest recipes in this book, will fit into your dinner repertoire several times a week. At Bayona we use a mix of lolo rosso, red oak, frisée, Boston or Bibb, red leaf, watercress, and radicchio lettuces. The dressing, which gets a sweet-tart kick from two types of vinegar, mustard, and honey, really makes this salad sing. A small portion of an assertive cheese, like Grana Padano or crumbled blue cheese, will add an appealing sharpness.

You can mix and match the listed ingredients to create your own version of this main-course salad. We used store-bought roasted turkey, but chicken also works well.

This is a sophisticated take on an American classic, the Waldorf salad. Tart crisp apples, piquant blue cheese, and rich, crunchy walnuts combine to create a salad with layers of flavor and texture. Slightly sweet, deliciously tangy pomegranate molasses is the key ingredient in the vinaigrette, binding all of the elements in place of the traditional mayonnaise-based dressing. Tender baby spinach and crisp endive amp up the fresh factor of this hearty salad.

Once you taste this dressing, you’ll be reluctant to use a bottled variety again. Given how extremely simple— and quick—it is to prepare, you won’t need to. Crisped cubes of bacon, eggs, and blue cheese often come together over a bed of bitter frisée, but I think that tender Boston lettuce makes a superb substitution. Its sweet leaves get some punch from peppery radishes and the tangy buttermilk-based dressing.

I cannot begin to tell you how addictive these chips and sauce are. Homemade potato chips, crisp and hot from the fryer, dunked in a warm, creamy sauce rich with tangy blue cheese . . . you can’t go wrong. Try it for yourself and you’ll understand why diners at the restaurant have been known to call over their server and order another round—or two! I like to use an American blue cheese such as Maytag or Great Hill Farms. If you’re not up to making your own chips, store-bought ones can be warmed in a 350°F oven for 5 minutes and served with the sauce. When it comes down to it, it’s the rich blue cheese sauce that steals the show.

This casserole is a lot like the man who invented it—larger than life, over the top, and guaranteed to make you happy. Bud’s the name behind Royers Round Top Café, a “contemporary comfort food” oasis in, no surprise—Round Top, a 1 1/2-hour drive from Austin—that serves up heaping portions and Bud’s famous pies. Bud’s casserole is a side dish that’s hearty enough to qualify as a main course, and a great option if you have vegetarian guests coming for dinner.

Once looked down upon as so 1950s, the iceberg wedge with tangy blue cheese dressing has made a comeback, and with good reason. I’m always amazed at the enthusiastic response when I set out these salads—either on a party buffet table, or for a sit-down dinner. Guys especially love it.

Someone always complains if there’s no potato salad at our annual homecoming reunion in Long view. And while I never tire of getting together with my extended family, I do grow weary of eating the same old spud salad over and over. I decided a new version was in order and combined potatoes, buttermilk, sour cream, and blue cheese into a fresh-tasting, mayonnaise-free salad flavored with fresh tarragon.

This is our take on a somewhat composed cheese dessert for Ssäm Bar.

This is the first croissant we ever made and sold at Milk Bar. Deeply stinky and pungent in all the right ways, it is not for the faint of heart. It is a true marriage of funky, barnyardy, stringent kimchi and blue cheese, of our Korean roots to our Italian ones. It is for our soul sisters and brothers. Making croissants is one of the coolest bread techniques around. You spend time making many layers of bread dough and butter, folding and turning the dough all along. When baked, the croissants get their flakiness and volume from the steam that the layers of butter give off as the dough heats. The steam separates each dough layer ever so slightly, resulting in this massively puffy, impossibly flaky creation. And when you make them with a flavored butter, they’re even cooler! Though we have simplified the technique somewhat at Milk Bar, in terms of speed and precision, this recipe is still not for softbodies. It takes more time with the dough, more flour, more time with the rolling pin. But it will make you feel like a true pro when the oven timer goes off and you pull these bad boys out.

Maytag Blue cheese, made by the same family that became world famous for its appliances, is handmade from cow’s milk and has a peppery, piquant flavor. Start this sandwich about an hour in advance so the chicken has time to marinate. This is an easy recipe to double or triple for a larger group, and the chicken can be made ahead. I like to serve this sandwich on raisin pumpernickel bread, but feel free to use another favorite loaf.

Early February, icy-cold day. I find great spinach in the shops but little to go with it. I grab a bag of those factory-made vacuum-packed gnocchi that always make me feel as if I have just eaten a duvet. With cream, blue cheese, and spinach, they have a rib-sticking quality that would keep out arctic cold, let alone a bit of urban chill. Sometimes I just need food like this.

Green stuff—asparagus, nettles, peas, spinach, and fava beans—adds life and vigor to the seemingly endless calm of a shallow plate of risotto. My first attempt found me convinced that I didn’t need to skin the beans. In theory it works, but the skins interfere with the harmony of stock, rice, and cheese and add an unwelcome chewiness. I am not sure you should ever need to chew a risotto.

Long associated with the finale of the Christmas meal, Stilton and celery is a fine combination and there is every reason to turn it into a soup. I’m not sure it matters which blue cheese you use but the saltier types tend to be more interesting here. A good Stilton will work well enough, but something with more punch—say Picos, Roquefort, Stichelton, or Cashel Blue—would get my vote, as would good old Danish Blue. Cream is usually a given with celery soup, but I am not sure you need it.

The dressing is enough for four and will keep in the fridge for several days.