Parsley

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from The Ethical Gourmet. To read more about the book, click here. Roaming the range foraging for grasses makes pasture-raised beef leaner and more intense in flavor. Grass-fed beef, with its lower fat content, cooks differently from conventional beef, so cook it slower, at lower temperatures. Its concentrated flavors make it an exceptional meat to serve in small, sliced portions as a spicy accompaniment to a grain and vegetable main course such as Pumpkin Basmati Rice Pilaf, Toasted Hard Red Wheat Pilaf with Caramelized Shallots, Figs, and Brazil Nuts, or Spice Whole Oats.

Lamb shoulder is meltingly tender here, and a natural partner for earthy-sweet artichokes.

The garlicky herb butter is similar to the butter served with escargots in southwestern France. IMPROV: When preparing the butter, try a shallot instead of garlic, and thyme instead of parsley.

This salad is no bland picnic side dish: Slices of deli ham and bits of salty bacon give it hearty main-course appeal.

Pitas, or savory pies, are ubiquitous in mountainous Epirus, in no small part because their portability suited itinerant sheepherding families. Even when you are staying put, this one is well worth making. Its homemade phyllo is rolled out much thicker than the commercial kind, making something more akin to a tender piecrust, and it's imbued with rich flavor from yogurt.

This can be served hot or at room temperature.

Fish stews abound throughout the Mediterranean and most evolved from the fishing boats themselves, as fishermen reserved the worst of their catch for themselves and cooked it on-board.

(Purée de Papas) Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Zarela Martinez's book The Food and Life of Oaxaca. Martinez also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Martinez and Oaxacan cuisine, click here. When I visited the Isthmus of Tehuantepec at the season of spring parties accompanying the local velas (saints' day festivals), I found this vividly seasoned dish being served everywhere. It also turned out to be one of the regular Sunday offerings at Venancia Toledo Hernández's food stand in the Isthmian town of Ixtepec. She gave me her recipe and now everyone I've served it to in New York is in love with the brassy, sensuous flavors.

(Mole Verde con Puerco) Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Zarela Martinez's book The Food and Life of Oaxaca. Martinez also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Martinez and Oaxacan cuisine, click here. Mole Verde, or just Verde for short, is the lightest and freshest-tasting of Oaxaca's "seven moles." Of the many variants I've tried, this version served with pork loin at the Oaxaca City restaurant Casa de la Abuela is my favorite. Fresh herb rather than spice accents are what distinguish a Mole Verde. A purée of green herbs has to be added at the last minute. In other parts of Mexico I've had green moles made with various greens, even lettuce leaves. But the Oaxacan Mole Verde uses just three: epazote, hoja santa, and parsley. If you can't get the first two you'll have to improvise with what's available, but the results will not be at all Oaxacan. Dried epazote and hoja santa are better than none at all, though the fresh herbs are incomparable. The amount of chiles can be varied to taste; however, this particular sauce is not usually very picante (hot). At Casa de la Abuela they combine the sauce with white beans that have been cooked separately, to keep the flavors simple and distinct. It is very important not to overcook the pork loin, a tender cut that dries out easily. I have devised a way of using boned pork loin that gets some added flavor from the reserved bones. When you have the meat boned, ask the butcher to tie the meat to the backbone and ribs. At serving time, untie and carve it to distribute both meat and rib pieces equally. If this is not practical and you have to get preboned loin without the frame of bones, buy 1 pound of pork neck bones separately and cook them with the meat. It will add some body and flavor. Mole Verde is also delicious made with chicken instead of pork. In that case, use a 3 1/2-pound chicken, cut into serving pieces, and simmer as directed below for the pork loin, reducing the cooking time to 30 minutes. Remove the skin before serving.

Shlata Chizo Carrot salads are a relatively new dish, especially raw ones. Until well into the twentieth century, most Europeans ate only cooked carrots, primarily in stews and soups. In the Middle East, people also used them as a component of cooked dishes, but sometimes added grated or minced raw carrots as a minor ingredient to various salads. It was in northwestern Africa that carrots, both cooked and raw, became the featured component of salads — typically an accompaniment to couscous or part of an assortment of salads. Moroccans brought carrot salads to Israel in the 1940s, and they quickly became ubiquitous. These salads are a traditional Rosh Hashanah dish in Israel, a symbol of a sweet and fruitful year to come. At many Israeli restaurants, cooked carrot salad automatically appears on the table with the bread, pickles, and hummus. The carrots are usually flavored with charmoula, a characteristic Moroccan marinade of oil, lemon juice, garlic, cumin, and salt. Most cooks add heat with chilies, sometimes in dangerous proportions. I have tasted some that left me gasping and other that proved a lively appetizer, so adjust the amount of chilies to your own preference and that of your guests. For fancy presentation, Israelis serve raw carrot salad, commonly called gezer chai ("live carrots"), in quartered avocados or on a bed of lettuce leaves, garnished with a sprig of mint.

Editor's note: The recipe below is excerpted from Katie Brown's Weekends. To read more about Katie Brown and to get her tips on throwing a headache-free cocktail party, click here. I love an all-in-one dish!

(Kuku-ye sabzi) Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Najmieh Batmanglij's book A Taste of Persia. Batmanglij also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Batmanglij and Persian cuisine, click here. A kuku is a baked omelet somewhat similar to an Italian frittata or an Arab eggah; it is thick and rather fluffy, and stuffed with herbs, vegetables, or meat. It may be eaten hot or cold — it keeps well in the refrigerator for two or three days — as an appetizer, side dish, or light main dish with yogurt or salad and bread. Kukus are traditionally made on the stovetop, but my oven version is much simpler. A fresh herb kuku such as this one is a traditional New Year's dish in Iran. The green herbs symbolize rebirth, and the eggs, fertility and happiness for the year to come.

(Lamb with Saffron, Sardinian Style) Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Giuliano Bugialli's book Foods of Sicily & Sardinia. We've also added some helpful tips of our own, which appear at the bottom of the page.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Joan Nathan's book The Foods of Israel Today. Nathan also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Nathan and Israeli cuisine, click here. I remember with pleasure the Turkish Spinach burekas we ate every Friday morning when I worked in the Jerusalem municipality. The ritual was as follows: Simontov, the guard at the front door downstairs, would appear carrying a bronze tray with Turkish coffee and the heavenly, flaky pastries filled with spinach or cheese, called filikas in Ladino. It is rare today to have such delicious burekas, in Jerusalem or anywhere else in Israel. Most of the dough is commercially produced puff pastry, much thicker and less flaky than the homemade phyllo used to be. A few places, like Burekas Penzo in Tel Aviv (near Levinsky Street), which has been making the pastries by hand in the Turkish style for more than thirty years, produce a close second to those I remember from my days in Jerusalem. Various Ladino names like bulemas and boyos differentiate fillings and distinguish a Jewish bureka from a Turkish one. If you can find the thick phyllo dough, that works well. Otherwise, try this. My fifteen-year-old makes and sells them for fifty cents a piece. They are great!

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Paula Wolfert's book The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen. Wolfert also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. This Moroccan, main-course vegetable dish integrates marvelous components: preserved lemons, juicy tan olives, and well-spiced potatoes.

Every Israeli has an opinion about falafel, the ultimate Israeli street food, which is most often served stuffed into pita bread.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Charlie Trotter and Roxanne Klein's book, Raw.