Romaine

The saffron does all the work for you in this dish—you’ll freak out when you take your first bite and actually taste how easy this was to make. Since you now have saffron on hand, next time you’re making regular old rice, add a pinch of saffron and your rice will taste extraordinary.

I am the self-proclaimed “Queen of Burgers”—this is probably my 140th burger recipe! Ground meat is so versatile and accessible. Who doesn’t love a good burger? This one combines lean ground turkey breast with spicy horseradish, sharp Cheddar, and tangy cranberry sauce. Yum-o!

This is like a steak dinner with onion rings, steak fries, and salad with blue cheese dressing, all chopped up in a bowl together. If you skipped lunch, this is your payoff.

This one is fun for kids, like me. Serve as is, or accompany with black beans or refried beans and plain or flavored rice, prepared according to the package directions.

Eat well, eat more! Chew this one until you bust!

Eat well, eat more! I cut out the bun so I can have more dogs and veggies with less guilt. Chicago-style dogs are my favorites, with pickles, tomatoes, onions, mustard, and slaw on top. This salad reverses the order and piles the veggies up high underneath the dogs.

I like to make this Lebanese salad with basmati rice, because the grains stay very separate.

This salad brings back for me memories of the garlands of islands floating in the deep blue sea, the plaintive sound of the bouzouki, and the sugar-cake houses.

This is a homely version of the very green parsley-and-mint salad with buff-colored speckles of bulgur wheat you find in all Lebanese restaurants all over the world. Like many items on the standard Lebanese restaurant menu, it was born in the mountain region of Zahlé, in the Bekáa Valley of Lebanon, where the local anise flavored grape liquor arak is produced. Renowned for its fresh air and its natural springs and the river Bardaouni, which cascades down the mountain, the region acquired a mythical reputation for gastronomy. In 1920 two cafés opened by the river. They gave away assorted nuts, seeds, olives, bits of cheese, and raw vegetables with the local arak. Gradually the entire valley became filled with open-air cafés, each larger and more luxurious than the next, each vying to attract customers who flocked from all over the Middle East with ever more varied mezze. The reputation of the local mountain-village foods they offered, of which tabbouleh was one of the jewels, spread far and wide and became a national institution. What started as a relatively substantial salad, rich with bulgur, was transformed over the years into an all-green herby affair. When the first edition of my book came out, I received letters telling me I had too much bulgur in that recipe. One letter from Syria explained that mine was the way people made the salad many years ago, when they needed to fill their stomachs. You see, many of my relatives left Syria for Egypt a hundred years ago, and that was how they continued to make it. The following is a contemporary version.

There is a mystique around the preparation of this famous salad. I watched my friend Kamal make it in Beirut, and his main tip was that you must slice, not chop, the parsley, so that it does not get crushed and mushy. Use the fine-ground bulgur, which is available in Middle Eastern stores. These stores and Asian ones also sell parsley in tied bunches that weigh between 7 ounces and 10 ounces with stems. Mix and dress the salad only when you are ready to serve.

Just as you would never find chow mein in China, I don’t think you’d find this salad anywhere in Asia, but the concept is a popular one. In my version, chicken breasts are roasted, not deep-fried.