Raisin

Baccalà is of ancient Roman favor. The methodology of its preservation was one cultivated during their campaigns in the north, where they learned to embalm a catch of the great, fat cod under unpounded crystals of sea salt, reviving it for meals both festive and humble. Stoccafisso differs from baccalà in its fundamental cure, as it, having no encounter with salt, is simply hung out to dry in the winds moaning up from the North Sea. In either case, once plumped in its renaissance bath of cold water, the cod flesh is tender and, when cooked gently, its flesh takes on an almost creamy texture. The yield of a correctly reconstituted and properly cooked fish, well conserved in either way, is quite the same. This is an unexpectedly delicate dish, the raisins foiling any saltiness that might linger in the fish, while the Cognac softens the acidity of the tomatoes.

I associate chestnuts with winter scenes that while I live in Southern California exist only in my imagination: snuggling up by the fireplace while the snow falls lightly and chestnuts roast on that proverbial open fire. One Christmas Eve, after a few hot toddies and with visions of chestnuts dancing in my head, I revisited my family’s traditional stuffing, determined to make my winter chestnut obsession a reality. For me, the stuffing, not the turkey or roast beef, has always been the highlight of holiday feasts. In fact, when I was a kid, one of my big culinary promotions was when I finally got to take charge of the stuffing. For the first time, my mom gave me carte blanche with the spice cabinet. I pillaged her Spice Island jars and doctored up the Pepperidge Farm box mix, experimenting with how to make things taste better. Now, as a chef, I’ve learned that seasoning is one of the keys to making all things, stuffing included, taste their best. Good stuffing starts with a great loaf of bread, torn into croutons, tossed with a generous amount of olive oil, and baked until crispy on the outside and soft in the center. Then I add lots of onion, pancetta, rosemary, fennel, chile, thyme, lemon zest—and chestnuts, of course. The biggest mistake people make at home is underseasoning their stuffing. Don’t be afraid to spice it up with plenty of vegetables, herbs, and seasonings. And remember to taste as you go.

Brian Wolff is the chef de cuisine and resident pickler at Lucques. Every time I turn around, he’s got something in the vinegar, like shell beans, cherries, or tiny onions. His pickled raisins are delicious and make a great last-minute condiment. Keep a jar in the refrigerator; if you have a terrine or leftover roast chicken or pork, these raisins make a wonderful sweet-and-sour topping.

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.

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.

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.

Feel free to substitute 2 1/2 pounds of your favorite dried fruits for the ones called for here. If you choose larger fruits, such as pears or apples, be sure to cut them into a 1/4-inch dice before using. Cakes can be wrapped in plastic and kept at room temperature for up to three days or in the refrigerator for up to six months.

This was inspired by a favorite ice cream, rum raisin. For the deepest flavor, use a dark rum, such as Myer’s; light rum just won’t taste the same.

Try this bread toasted in the morning for breakfast.

These classic drop cookies are large, soft, and chewy. Look for grade B maple syrup, which has a deeper flavor than grade A.

The addition of raisins, caraway seeds, and egg makes this version richer and even more delicious than traditional Irish soda bread.

The dough for these savory scones gets its unique texture and flavor from a combination of butter and olive oil. It was inspired by a similarly flavored yeast bread sold at Amy’s Bread in New York City.

Amish and old-order Mennonites bake this pie, also called rosina pie (German for raisin) or “funeral” pie, during any season. Some recipes include milk, making it more like a custard pie, and others use water, but they all seem to agree on the necessity of a double-crusted pie, often with a lattice top. If you like raisins, you’ll love this pie. Walnuts, pecans, hazelnuts, or almonds would be perfect choices for the chopped nuts.

Mrs. Rowe attributed this recipe to her friend Mrs. John Martin, a Mennonite from Harrisonburg. The custard is slightly grainy, which is normal for this old-fashioned pie, and its pleasant, refreshing flavor is unusual to the modern palate. For plumper raisins, bring them to a boil in a small amount of water, then lower the heat and simmer for 20 minutes. Drain the raisins thoroughly before proceeding with the recipe.