Pistachio

This cake was a bestseller at Milk Bar right off the bat. If you’ve had it, chances are you were hooked at first bite. Though the recipe calls for a few things that you’ll have to source aside from your normal pantry ingredients, remember that amazon.com can be the love of your life too, and that this cake is well worth the effort.

The ideal here would be the pale, plump zucchini varieties you find in Middle Eastern markets. I visit one near London’s Edgware Road that even has them ready prepared, their seeds removed for stuffing, and packed into little plastic crates. If these torpedo-shaped squashes escape me, and they often do, then I use the ubiquitous type, halve them lengthwise and scatter the filling loosely over the top rather than making a clumsy attempt to stuff them. The classic zucchini stuffings of the Middle East vary from family to family but usually include cooked rice or ground lamb, or occasionally walnuts, pine nuts, or hazelnuts, stirred into softened onion and then lightly seasoned with allspice, tomato paste, and parsley. The effect is a moist filling of elegance and pleasing predictability. I sometimes want something more unusual. A stuffing that intrigues as much as it pleases.

Luscious persimmon fruits blow in and out of markets in late fall. They grow wild in North America—I’ve found them while foraging in Maryland—but the native species is small and astringent. The two kinds found in stores are cultivars from Asia. Hachiyas are oval-shaped and must be completely soft, all the way down to the base, before being eaten. Fuyus, which look like flat tomatoes, are eaten firm. If you can wait until it ripens, the Hachiya has more flavor, but the Fuyu works just as well in this recipe.

I love, love, love dried apricots. They’re one of my favorite foods on earth, as long as they’re the ones from California. People are often tempted by Turkish and Chinese dried apricots, since they’re usually more colorful and far more plump (and cheaper), but I find them terribly sweet, and ice cream made with them lacks the delicious flavor and intensity of dried apricots. The combination of pistachio nuts and apricots is particularly good. Don’t toast the pistachio nuts or they’ll lose their lovely green hue. Make sure the pistachio nuts you’re using are fresh and crisp.

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.

Although there appear to be many recipes for the Armenian dish called khavits, most of which entail frying semolina or cracked wheat in butter before boiling it, the toppings are what hooked me when I had it for breakfast at an Armenian café in my town. You can crack your own wheat in a blender (see page 59), or use semolina, store-bought seven-grain cereal, or even Cream of Wheat. For added fiber, I usually include a couple of tablespoons of ground flaxseed in each serving.

It was a happy day when an enterprising midwesterner decided that the surplus of sour cherries could be dried instead of left neglected on the trees. And thus, one of my favorite baking ingredients was born. But this recipe is eminently adaptable and you can use any kind of dried fruit or toasted nuts that suits you. Diced apricot pieces and cranberries, walnuts and toasted pecans, and roasted cocoa nibs have all found their way into various batches of this bark. I even got really crazy once and crumbled candied bacon into a batch. That one met with a few raised eyebrows, but was gobbled up by all.

From the roadside stands in the French countryside to the village shops of Greece to the markets of Italy, wherever I spot a market vendor selling jars of thick, sticky, locally produced honey, I feel obligated to buy some. If you think all honey is the same, you haven’t tasted ruggedly bitter Italian chestnut honey or the syrupy, aromatic lavender honey from sunny Provence. This recipe is a good way to use any type of interesting honey that you may have in your pantry. Be sure to use the freshest, crispest, best-quality pistachios you can find. And never toast them, which subdues their vibrant green color.

At one time, everything I knew about Indian cooking could fit on one bindi dot. It wasn’t until Niloufer Ichaporia King came to work with us at Chez Panisse, where each year she guided us through the preparation of a traditional Parsi New Year’s feast, that I tasted authentic and wonderfully aromatic Indian food. My favorite dish was a cake enrobed in a sheet of gold leaf, a stunning touch that lent the dessert the splendor worthy of a Bollywood musical. This is my version of that cake, but I left out the gold, since it’s not something you’re likely to have on hand. I did, however, brighten up the batter with vibrant green pistachios, which should be more easily found in grocery stores than sheets of gold leaf.

Cold meat, a gentle touch, and wet hands are the secrets to successfully shaping these kebabs. There are a few ingredients that may seem a bit peculiar, but I assure you they’ll make sense once you take a bite. The pistachios add a welcome touch of crunch, and sumac—a tart, slightly astringent spice available at any Middle Eastern market—lends the perfect bright boost of flavor. Serve with rice pilaf, pita bread, and Sriracha Tzatziki (page 23).

This recipe is inspired by a traditional Arab sweet that I adore, made from dried apricots and pistachios. Many of the sweets in Mexico have Arab influences due to the fact that Arabs occupied Spain for more than seven centuries. The Spanish in turn colonized Mexico, bringing some of those Arabic influences with them.

In this light and elegant dessert, the pears turn a beautiful rosy color from the wine. The slightly tart taste of lemon topping drizzled over the pears and the crunch of toasted pistachios complete the dish.

Let the others turn green with envy. This pistachio ice cream is a reduced-fat version, but has all the taste and texture of the classic.

When I was in high school, my idea of a great time was sitting on the floor with my best friend Jill and devouring a huge bag of pistachios while we discussed which cute boys we had crushes on. By the time we were done, we were knee-deep in shells and soul-deep in feminine solidarity. Little did I know we were also improving our health. Turns out those pistachios are their own wellness center, rich in potassium (for cell fluid balance and nerve function), magnesium (for enzymes that help catalyze the body’s energy), thiamine (for appetite stimulation), and vitamin B6 (for protein absorption).

Surprisingly, this couscous recipe has its origins in Italy. I was in Sicily, deep in the land of linguini, when out came couscous as part of our meal. “Couscous?” I thought. “That’s Moroccan, not Italian.” Well, it turns out that every invading army passing through Sicily left a bit of its cuisine behind. And couscous, despite the exotic name, is actually a tiny, beadlike pasta. I love it because it’s easy to prepare—no huge pots of boiling water necessary, just a little steam or hot broth and, in 10 minutes, voila! It’s also so soft and delicious in the mouth, like a gentle massage. Pistachios are my secret ingredient here. Most people think of them as something you only see at a ballgame or in ice cream, but their buttery texture, great vitamin content, and wonderful pale green coloring make them a great choice anytime. I love to put a dollop of Sweet and Savory Yogurt (page 189) on top of this dish. This recipe works beautifully with a drizzle of Moroccan Pesto (page 186).

I like the way nature balances her books. In summertime, everyone gets hot and loses water. So what does Mother Nature do? She produces an abundance of summer squash, which happens to be full of water, making it an ideal vegetable to combat dehydration. I think of zucchini as the perfect party guest. It’s mild and mixes well with a crowd. The key with zucchini is good prep, so that the flesh stays somewhat firm and tasty.

There’s something intrinsically fun about cooking with pistachios. Besides having an addictive flavor, nuts are a great source of protein and unsaturated fats. They are thought to help build and protect the nervous system, and may even help repair existing damage. As a commonsense precaution, try to avoid any red-dyed nuts. Be sure to clean leeks thoroughly by slicing them in half lengthwise and allowing the water to sluice between the layers. Don’t expect asparagus to remain crisp in an infused one-pot meal; instead, savor the buttery softness of melt-in-your mouth stalks.

Mortadella is a super-high-quality baloney. In fact, it’s probably the most delicious baloney you’ve ever had. At one of my dinner parties I was serving mortadella and one of my guests said, “Hey, this baloney has nuts in it!” And it does: Mortadella is full of pistachios and chunky bits of fat, both of which make it super-flavorful. My mortadella pâté is puréed, mixed with whipped cream, and topped with pistachios—think of it as baloney mousse.