Dried Fruit

Every winter, when the first blood oranges appear at the market, I’m as impressed as I was the first time I saw one, while visiting Rome my junior year abroad. One morning, at the local café where I had my daily cappuccino and pretended to read the paper, I heard a loud racket coming from behind me. When I turned and looked, I got my first glimpse of that blood-red juice spewing from the juicers lined up on the bar. I had to order a glass. When I got the bill, I was shocked by the steep price. But even back then, I knew it was something very special and worth every lira. This salad is my homage to those blood oranges that won my heart so many years ago. Layered with sweet dates, Parmesan, almonds, and a few leaves of peppery arugula, the blood-orange slices burst with sweet, tart juice. Because this salad has so few ingredients and nothing to “hide behind,” now is truly a time to seek out the very best ingredients. Once you’ve gathered your perfect components, the only difficult part is arranging them on the plate. Thoughtfully weave the ingredients together, layering them into “hills and valleys,” rather than piling them up into a “mountain.” Think of this as a tapestry, rather than a tossed salad.

This pasta might sound unsubstantial, but I promise you won’t leave the table wishing you’d made a roast instead. The caramelized cauliflower, rich cavolo nero, and chewy pasta, sautéed with rosemary, chile, garlic, anchovy, and onion, meld together into a filling, savory whole. Although sautéing the pasta isn’t traditional, I love the integration of flavors and the slightly crisped noodles.

While I’m not a fusion person, I do often find myself melding different cultures into a single dish. This chicken dish is a great example, drawing paprika and sherry from Spain, and dates, saffron, and couscous from Morocco. In place of Morrocan couscous in this dish I use fregola sarda, Sardinia’s answer to traditional couscous. Fregola sarda is made from hand-rolled balls of coarsely ground semolina. Although often called “Italian couscous,” its larger size and slightly toasted flavor distinguish it from its North African counterpart. It lends the dish a nutty flavor and chewy texture, and is the perfect accompaniment to soak up all the spiced broth and fragrant saffron onions. The final addition of sliced dates and fresh herbs gives this Mediterranean tagine a sweet finish.

The clafoutis was invented in Limousin, France, to showcase that region’s famous cherries. Some compare the eggy consistency of clafoutis to flan, as it’s neither cake nor custard. To me, it’s more like an extra-thick crêpe dotted with fruit. Clafoutis puffs beautifully as it bakes, and hot out of the oven, it’s crisp on the outside and airy in the middle. When chilled, however, it collapses, becoming dense and custardlike. I love it both ways. One of the great aspects of clafoutis is its versatility. Once you know how to make the batter, you can make great desserts with it year-round. At Lucques, we’ve made clafoutis with sautéed apples in the winter and with berries in the summer. For the fall, I like a clafoutis featuring that indigenous American jewel, the cranberry. This dessert is delicious as is, but if you want to gild the lily, serve it with a dollop of bourbon-spiked whipped cream.

This recipe is in honor of Hadley Fruit Orchards, a legendary stop on the way to Palm Springs where “ice cold date shakes” have been soothing weary and overheated drivers on Route 10 for years.

Dates were always part of the December onslaught of gifts for my father from his patients. Packages of dried fruit would arrive with bottles of booze, crates of Hickory Farms smoked meats and cheeses, and boxes of C. C. Brown’s pecan turtles. Once my sister and I had made our way through all the other edible gifts, our sugar-dazed eyes would turn toward that untouched wicker tray of shrink-wrapped dried fruit. After one bite of those rock-hard dates covered in shredded coconut, we were convinced that dates were inedible. It wasn’t until my late twenties, when I moved back to Los Angeles, that I gave dates another chance. It didn’t seem right that something so prominent in the local landscape was absent from my culinary landscape. With date farmers at every turn, I broke down and tried a date. Soft, chewy, and rich, this was definitely not the date of my childhood. I embraced my newfound love with a vengeance, sampling all the different varieties. Now I can’t imagine life without dates. For this tart I like Deglet Noors, which have a pleasing chewiness without the cloying sweetness of some other varieties. If you can’t find Deglet Noors, you can use another variety; just make sure the dates are plump and supple. (See Sources for my favorite date farmers who ship across the country.)

Look in any Sicilian cookbook and you’ll find a recipe for the popular side dish, or contorno, of cooked greens with currants and pine nuts. I make Swiss chard the main attraction of this dish, layering it onto a savory tart with rich and tangy goat cheese, then topping it with sweet currants and toasted pine nuts. Use a crumbly, slightly aged goat cheese, such as Bûcheron, Rodin Affiné, or the domestically produced Laura chanel aged chèvre. Feel free to substitute any other tender greens, such as the tops of beets or turnips, or a bunch of young mustard greens for the Swiss chard.

Wholesome and seductive all at once, this dark bread can be made in a flash. It’s wonderful with tea as a dessert or as a breakfast bread.

A dollop of sweet-tart chutney is a nice way to dress up both spicy curried and mild grain and bean dishes.

This classic recipe is a good way to highlight this nourishing green vegetable. The rich flavor of pine nuts and sweetness of raisins are surprising yet compatible in tandem with the spinach.

Luscious and yummy are rarely terms applied to salad, but I would be so bold as to use them to describe this one. Offbeat, colorful, and quick, it’s a dish I make often in winter months when cool, crunchy salads are less enticing.

Swiss chard is a beloved kitchen-garden vegetable in Italian cuisine. Combined with white beans and tomatoes, this stick-to-your-ribs dish will satisfy the heartiest of appetites.

One evening not long ago, I had about one hour to make dinner for the family—and eat—between getting home from one activity and going out to another. I improvised based on what was in the fridge rather than following a recipe. This was the result; everyone liked this simple dish so much that I was compelled to compose a recipe for it, and have followed it many times since.

This is inspired by mujaddarah, a traditional Middle Eastern dish that is sometimes made with rice, and sometimes with cracked wheat. The grain is combined with lentils and lots of onions browned in olive oil. Even in its basic form, it’s delicious. Since we save some time by cooking (rather than soaking) the bulgur, I like to dress up this classic with the nontraditional but tasty additions of scallions and raisins.

If I had to choose a favorite quinoa dish, it would be this one. With just a few ingredients, it manages to showcase sweet, savory, and nutty flavors all at once.

The more subtle flavors of raisin and oatmeal allow the maple to shine through, and a tinge of coconut adds a final unexpected note to this cozy combination. This pie is so simple to make, and it’s a great dessert for a chilly fall night. I recommend serving this with a scoop of cinnamon ice cream or a dollop of Maple Whipped Cream (page 194).

At Michele’s Pies we have pies for peach fans, apple junkies, pineapple aficionados, and lemon lovers. But what about raisins? Just to be sure we had something for everyone, this pie combines raisins, sweet butterscotch, and crunchy oats and pecans to create an almost candylike dessert that will hit your sweet tooth just right. This pie is delicious served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a drizzle of Caramel Sauce.

Unlike fresh cranberries, which can be tart, dried cranberries provide an extra layer of sweetness to the classic apple pie. This dessert is a great finale to a pork roast dinner. Try it with the Traditional Pastry double crust (page 5) as an alternative.

This rustic cake has the flavor and texture of an old-fashioned Eastern European dessert. Use either a nut grinder or food processor to grind pecans.