Orange

Cornish game hens (or Rock Cornish hens) are not as large as a chicken, yet larger than a quail. The French call them poussins, and they are essentially baby chickens. Mama has always cooked game hens for semi-special occasions since we all love them. They are great for a dinner party, too. Plan ahead, however; many grocery stores only sell them frozen. The safest way to defrost meat is in the refrigerator overnight or in the sink under cold running water. Bacteria thrive when food is between 41° and 140°F. So, you can imagine how appalled I am recalling how my mother, not knowing any better at the time, would defrost these hens, as well as chicken and hamburger meat, on the windowsill in the bright sunshine. It is amazing we never got sick (she knows better, now). Or maybe the early exposure just built up our resistance to food-borne bacteria.

No holiday in our family would be complete without this refreshing fruit salad. My grand-father Dede would patiently grate the fresh coconut on a box grater, also put to use for the obligatory coconut cake. My sister, Jona, would sit, fidgeting, on the stool in the kitchen waiting for a sip of the coconut juice. Once the coconut was grated, Dede would peel and segment enough oranges to make gallons of this exquisite concoction. Although Dede did all the work (with a little help from Jona), I’ve named this dish for Meme, because she loved it and he made it for her. Use this simple recipe as the starting point for creating your own version. Always use fresh coconut, not flaked, canned, bagged, or frozen.

The slow cooker is an excellent tool for making small batches of jams and preserves—just enough for a week’s worth of morning toast—without any fuss at all. You can use your stovetop recipes, just adjust for longer cooking times. Begin on low and end on high with the cover off, and plan on watching somewhat carefully for the last hour. Forsake the pectin and enjoy the spoonable texture of nothing but fruit.

Cranberries are native to North America and were used by indigenous peoples long before the Pilgrims arrived. They were mashed with deer meat for pemmican because their natural benzoic acid helps slow spoilage. For a slightly untraditional cranberry sauce, the dried berries, citrus flavor, and port beautifully complement a juicy turkey. Serve with wild rice pilaf or mashed potatoes.

I first ate Korean ribs years ago in San Francisco’s Bay Area, where there are many fine Korean restaurants. Although Korean ribs are usually barbecued, this slow-cooked version is a good approximation of the real deal, and the result is mouthwatering.

It’s hard to put my finger on what it is about this marinade that makes it so good. It could be the earthiness of the annatto seeds, but it could also be the sweet tanginess from the vinegar, cumin, and orange juice. Whatever it is, you will love it on your chicken, fish, or pork, as much for its flavor as for the striking deep red color it will pass on.

This dish, also referred to as escabeche, owes it origin to the Spanish, who created the technique of frying or poaching fish or chicken and then marinating it in a citrus or vinegar mixture as a way of preserving the meat. Because the marinating process can take up to a day, it is left in the refrigerator and as a result is typically served cold or at room temperature. It makes a great dish for a picnic or an outdoor meal because it can be made well in advance and only gets better with time.

Not only does this chewy candied peel make a tasty tangle atop a scoop of citrus-flavored sorbet or ice cream, but it’s also terrific drained, finely chopped, and folded into just-churned Super Lemon Ice Cream (page 85), Fresh Ginger Ice Cream (page 43), or Cheesecake Ice Cream (page 62). If you don’t have a candy thermometer, simply cook the peel until most of the liquid has boiled away and the fine threads of peel are shiny and translucent.

I love the word spremuta, which means “freshly pressed orange juice” in Italian. At any caffè, if you order one, you’ll be brought a tall, vivid red glass of juice served with a few packets of sugar and a long, slender spoon alongside. Although years ago Americans were astonished when confronted with blood orange juice, this colorful citrus fruit has become common stateside and can be found in many supermarkets and farmer’s markets. When sliced open, they reveal a brilliantly colored interior, and like snowflakes, each one intrigues me, since no two seem to be colored alike. The Moro variety of blood oranges is the most intensely colored, but other varieties, like Sanguinelli and Tarocco, make remarkably colorful granita as well.

The arrival of cranberries in the fall magically coincides with the holiday food shopping frenzy. A wonder of nature? Or just good timing? Regardless, I’m happy whenever I find cranberries in abundance. Their flavor is invigorating and restorative, which is probably why they’re so popular around the time of year when many of us could use help after overindulging in copious holiday feasts.

One of the few fruits native to North America is the cranberry. They are hollow, which is why you can bounce them (go ahead, try it) and also explains why they float, which turns out to be an advantage at harvest time. Farmers flood the areas where cranberries are cultivated with water, causing the berries to rise to the surface, where it’s a cinch to scoop ’em up. Predictably, the majority of cranberries are purchased just before Thanksgiving, but I stock up the day after, when they’re on sale, and freeze them to use during the rest of the year.

After a big meal, when I feel like I can’t eat another bite, I like a dessert that’s been infused with an intriguing flavor, like Szechwan pepper, to coax my taste buds back to life. This ice cream starts off comfortably, with the familiar flavor of orange, and then comes alive with a kick from the Szechwan peppercorns.

Many apartment buildings in Paris, including mine, have a gardienne. Although their official duties are accepting deliveries and overseeing maintenance, they’re equally famous for being a steady (and remarkably reliable) source of gossip about your neighbors. My gardienne is Madame André, who has young children, so she was always quite happy to accept ice cream while I churned out recipes for this book. Of all the ice creams I gave her, this was her absolute favorite, and she went into Gallic raptures whenever she saw me for days and days afterward. I should probably recommend her for a job as my publicist too, since shortly thereafter I got a reputation in the building as being L’Américain qui fait des glaces, toujours! (the American who makes ice cream, all the time!). If you’re a rice pudding lover, this is the ice cream for you. And be sure to spread the word.

While navigating my way through the Barcelona train station, I was suddenly surrounded by a squadron of Spanish police, guns drawn, barking orders at me in Spanish. Aimed and ready, they gestured to me to open up the suspiciously overstuffed valise I was dragging. I carefully unzipped my bulky suitcase, revealing rows and rows of peculiar brown paper-wrapped bundles, all packed neatly in rows. An officer demanded that I unwrap one of the packages. I slowly tore the paper off the first one and held it high for all to see. The policemen let down their guns and had a good laugh. My crime? Smuggling home blocks of crispy Spanish turrón. This ice cream duplicates the taste of turrón with crispy almonds, honey, and a touch of candied orange, and it can be made, without raising any suspicions, in your ice cream maker at home.

This ice cream is for those who are nostalgic for those orange-and-cream-flavored popsicles. If you miss that taste, you’ll discover it again here.

Rice roll fillings are often precooked and reheated through steaming, but this popular one involves a filling of raw beef and orange zest that requires steaming to complete the cooking. For efficiency, professional Chinese cooks typically add the raw beef to the rice sheet about 30 seconds into cooking, but that is a difficult technique. Filling cooked sheets and then steaming them to cook the beef is easier and the results are the same. You do not have to use the baking soda in the filling, but some Chinese cooks use it as a meat tenderizer and to lend a silky texture. The beef should be hand- or machine-chopped so it isn’t too finely textured and clumpy (see page 158 for guidance).

I make this marmalade in the dead of winter whenever my collection of confitures is running low, since, happily, good pineapple is always available. One pineapple yields a lot of jam—another thing to be happy about. The best way to judge if a pineapple is truly ripe is to take a whiff. If the fruit is ripe, it will smell strong and sweet and the flesh will be sweet, too. Using the old wives’ tale method of plucking a leaf from the top just means you’re going to get strange looks from the people in the produce department. And if you do it in France, where I live, you might even be reprimanded.

I often serve small glasses of vin d’orange as a warm-weather aperitif. Anyone who enjoys Lillet is likely to enjoy this fruity and slightly bitter fortified wine. But be careful—it’s quite potent. To stay true to its humble Provencal roots, I use very inexpensive vodka and dry white wine. I’ve even made it with wine from a box—with excellent results!

There’s no reason to ever buy candied orange peel since it’s so much better when you make it at home. I can’t bear throwing away anything remotely edible, so when I have rinds left over from juicing oranges or tangerines for sorbet, I always make a batch of candied peels and serve them alongside. Finely chopped bits of candied orange peel enliven a batch of cookies like Gingersnaps (page 199) and add an unexpected, but delicious, twist when tossed into a fruit dessert such as Apple-Blackberry Crisp (page 101). This candied orange peel is thicker and more substantial than Soft-Candied Citrus Peel (page 253). In addition to being used an an ingredient or garnish, it can be enjoyed on its own as a confection.

Thin strips of soft-candied citrus peel enliven the flavor of desserts and look beautiful as garnishes for cakes, fruit compotes, sherbets, custards, and, especially, Champagne Gelée (page 114). Although it’s convenient to have a jar on hand to use on a whim, they’re quick and easy to make.