Parsley

My strongest memories of Thanksgiving are the mingling smells of chopped parsley, melted butter, and chicken broth going into the stuffing, and the sounds of cheering and yelling as we all watched the Army-Navy football game. At Bayona we always serve two different stuffings with our roast turkey. One is my mom’s simple bread stuffing, and the other is loaded with local flavors like shrimp (or crayfish) and andouille. I still like my mom’s the best. I call for both stuffings to be baked in casseroles, but you can also follow your favorite method for baking them inside a bird.

There are many different versions and interpretations of this exotic mixture, which can be used as a marinade, a sauce, or, with a little more olive oil, a vinaigrette. Use a portion of it to marinate fish or chicken, then grill, and toss the remaining mixture with thinly sliced Vidalia onions and sweet red peppers for a quick summer supper.

This fabulous, herbaceous gumbo used to be primarily a meatless Lenten dish, served on Good Friday. It is a pretty rare find on menus these days, but if you should come across it, give it a try. It is a thinner, soupier gumbo than most, and you’ll be surprised how much flavor the greens impart to the broth. When I made it the first time, I thought of how wonderful oysters would taste with the herbs, so I decided to top it off with a few fried ones. You could still serve it during Lent, but don’t reserve this delicious gumbo for once a year.

Fresh herbs give these sauces bright flavors. Use them to top grilled meats or steamed vegetables. They also make fantastic sandwich spreads.

We love the way this toss-and-serve pasta dish is put together so easily. Try the Fennel, Orange, and Parsley Salad (page 271) as a starter.

The combination of fennel, citrus, and parsley makes this Italian-style salad an ideal palate cleanser. It tastes particularly refreshing in winter, when salad greens are often scarce.

We like this steak served with sauteed mushrooms and polenta, but it would also be great with a green salad or Parmesan Steak Fries (page 83). And since it’s made with commonly available ingredients, you can enjoy it year-round.

Everyone loves shrimp, so the next time you make a batch of Gulf Shrimp and Grits (page 80) or Shrimp-Tomatillo Cocktail (page 75), save the shells and freeze them until you have enough for stock. However, you can also purchase prepared shrimp stock from your fishmonger or online (see Sources).

This full-flavored stock is the base of many of our soups and sauces at Bar Americain. Make a double batch and freeze it in 1-quart containers so you always have some on hand. In a pinch, low-sodium canned chicken broth will work in soup recipes. However, because chicken broth is not made with chicken bones and therefore doesn’t contain any gelatin, canned broth is not recommended for any of the chicken stock–based sauces in this book.

Brine-packed green peppercorns have a sharp, fresh, and somewhat fruity flavor that is less pungent than you might imagine coming from a peppercorn. Roasting asparagus to crisp-tender deepens its “green” flavor, and the dark blisters it acquires in the oven are especially tasty. Asparagus has a distinctive flavor, and this vinaigrette walks a delicate line, standing up to that flavor without overwhelming it. This simple side is a favorite of diners at Bar Americain.

This devilishly good appetizer is an American translation of the Alsatian tarte flambée. The pizza’s thin crust is topped with an unbeatable combination of nutty Gruyère, smoky bits of thick bacon, sweet caramelized onions, toasted slices of garlic, and tangy crème fraîche.

One of the most popular seafood dishes in France must be steamed mussels with fries. You will find moules frites in every kind of restaurant, from beachside cafés to, yes, Parisian brasseries. The seasonings do of course vary, but the most traditional preparation (moules marinière) steams the mussels in a broth of white wine, herbs, and some form of onions and/or garlic. The same ingredients serve as the jumping-off point for the fragrant green chile broth in this dish. Mild in terms of heat but heady with peppery flavor, a puree of roasted poblano chiles bestows the flavorful broth with a south-of-the-border twist that’s further enhanced and enriched by creamy coconut milk. Serving these mussels with good crusty bread—as well as the fries—is a must. Once you’ve finished the succulent mussels and crisp, salty fries, you’ll want that bread to sop up every last delicious drop of mouthwatering broth from your bowl.

When I lived in Peterborough, New Hampshire, in the early 1990s, I had two obsessions. The first was the lettuce mix from organic farming pioneer Rosaly Bass, who charmed me so much I signed up for a subscription that let me pick what I wanted off her land all season long. (I tended to swing by at midnight after a long day as editor of the weekly Monadnock Ledger and shovel up carrots by moonlight.) The second was this powerfully sharp dressing, made by chef Hiroshi Hayashi at his elegant, health-minded Japanese restaurant, Latacarta. While Rosaly’s farm is still going strong, Hayashi long ago closed the restaurant and started the Monadnock School of Natural Cooking and Philosophy, but he still makes this vegan dressing. I use it to dress simple salads of butter lettuce with cherry tomatoes and carrots, taking care to slice the carrots into a perfect julienne the way I remember Hayashi did. The dressing also makes an excellent dip for crudités.

Whether in food or in adventure, our great life-affirming moments often come when nature and sentience find themselves suddenly on intimate terms. Gulping a fresh oyster from the half-shell can be as exhilarating as sailing headlong into white-capped seas with only the song of steel-cold air in the rigging to keep you company. This is why I never tire of the fall season’s promise for new discoveries in oysters. I recently discovered the Totten Inlet Virginicas from the southern Puget Sound: minerally, fresh, and clean with a consistently firm meaty texture. Introducing Shinkai deep sea salt to the Totten was an opportunity for a culinary adventure I could not pass up. The mineral flavors of the oysters amplify the abundant steely flavors already apparent in the salt, and bring to light glints of sweetness and kelp that you might never find on your own. A drop of mignonette and a pinch of Shinkai deep sea salt; the sea god Neptune never had better.