Saffron

Zarzuela—the word means “medley” in Spanish—unites a variety of fish and is, like bouillabaisse, a dish whose ingredients can be varied according to what you can find. The traditional sauce accompaniment for Zarzuela is Romesco (page 606), but the variation makes that superfluous. I love this with crusty bread.

Strange but true: If you steam a lamb shoulder with just a few spices (and some vegetables if you like), it becomes completely tender and succulent even if you ignore it completely. In that way, it is much like braising, so I’ve included it here. Although there is such a thing as overcooking this preparation, you would have to make an effort. Sealing the pot with a paste of flour and water is traditional but unnecessary, as long as your steamer has a tight seal. If it does not, simply keep a kettle of water boiling and add to the pot as needed.

A lovely, flavorful, and colorful sauce with an elusive perfume that is the result of the saffron-vinegar combination. This is suitable for any firm-fleshed fish fillet. If you make the variation with the potato salad, you’d pretty much have a one-dish meal here; bread and salad would be nice additions.

You have an aesthetic choice to make in preparing this dish, which is great as part of a cool meal in summer. Add a couple of Asian-style salads, like Tomato Salad with Ginger (page 173) or Green Papaya Salad (page 174), and you’re in business. The coconut sauce, with its sugar, lemongrass, and chile—all typical Thai flavors— is wonderfully flavorful but stark white. Adding a large pinch of saffron turns it a glorious yellow and adds the distinctive complexity of that spice, a nice touch. If you prefer, you can use some ground turmeric—whose flavor is bitter but not at all unpleasant—or curry powder. Or just leave the sauce as is. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla).

Scandinavia has more food celebrations than any place I’ve ever been, with a special food for every occasion. On St. Lucia Day—twelve days before Christmas—it’s almost imperative to eat a couple of these delicious buns, but most people would happily wolf them down any other day of the year as well. Great for breakfast or as a midmorning or afternoon snack.

In all but the best restaurants, risotto is abused—cooked in advance, baked, and who knows what else—so if you have never made risotto at home, you are in for a treat. It takes a little patience and a little practice, but it is not a difficult process at all. True risotto alla Milanese contains—indeed, features—bone marrow, but don’t be discouraged if you cannot (or will not) deal with that. Risotto is wonderful without it, and prosciutto makes an adequate substitute. What you do need are Arborio rice (now sold everywhere, but still best purchased in Italian markets), real saffron, and, ideally, good, homemade stock. (Having said that, see my “bare-bones” variation.) I might add this: After years of trying every possible technique to make my risotto as creamy as the best I’d ever had, I realized that the “secret” was large quantities of butter. Don’t hold back unless you must.

Paella isn’t always bright yellow rice studded with overcooked seafood—it’s not even always made with seafood. Here’s a great version made with chicken, chorizo, and mushrooms that I learned from Spanish chef Jose Andres, based in Washington, DC. It’s a hearty one-dish meal impressive enough for any company.

Every seaside culture has its own fish stew, but in the West, bouillabaisse is the best known. Older recipes are quite specific about the kind of fish and the technique, but in my experience bouillabaisse, no matter how wonderful, is neither more nor less than a highly seasoned soup made with the day’s catch. So vary this recipe according to what you find at the store (or what you bring home from a day’s fishing).

I didn’t understand paella well until I had this dish in Spain. Rather than a major production, it’s a simple combination of rice and shrimp, a terrific weeknight dish, as it has been in coastal Spain for centuries.

Somewhere in between a rice side dish and a one-pot meal—a form of paella, really—this can serve as either. A few bits of chicken browned along with the chorizo will go a long way. I love this with the warm taste of mild chile powder, but you can use hotter chiles or omit them entirely.

A kind of pilaf, really, but one that has become its own category, the mother of dishes ranging from Paella (page 519) to Coconut Rice and Beans (page 516). I cannot resist sautéing the rice in oil or butter first, but it’s not entirely necessary; see the simpler variation. (You can also use any of the variations on Pilaf, Many Ways, page 513.) Turmeric is a common and an inexpensive but one-dimensional substitute for saffron; it has none of the depth of flavor, though the color is terrific. You can put in a few roasted red peppers (page 470) or canned “pimientos” also, if you like; add them along with the rice. This is a side dish that has far-ranging applications but is especially fine with soupy beans.

This delicate soup is classy yet simple, and leaving the mussels in their shells makes for a beautiful presentation; a touch of cream is a nice addition but an optional one. Serve this with a loaf of good, crusty bread; soaking the bread in the broth is one of this dish’s great pleasures. You can transform this into an entree, using pasta; see the variation.

A lovely yellow rice pudding, with the exotic flavor of saffron; interestingly, it’s dairy free. Use cinnamon or cardamom in addition to (or in place of) the rose water (available in small bottles at Middle Eastern stores) if you like.

This is what I think of as real coffee cake—not extraordinarily sweet and for some people not even a dessert. If you want it more cakelike, double the sugar in the dough and consider adding a couple more tablespoons of butter. But this is wonderful with a cup of coffee in the afternoon or toasted, with a little butter, in the morning. With the food processor, this dough becomes quite quick to make; just keep the processing to a minimum. You want to avoid building up the gluten in the flour so it doesn’t become tough. If you don’t feel like braiding the dough (it really is fun, though, and takes only a few extra minutes), by all means bake this in a loaf pan.

The Spanish version of Tempura (page 91), this produces a much thicker crust. It is most often made with shrimp, but you can use any seafood or vegetable or even bits of meat. It’s a simple but super flavorful frying technique. In much of Spain, olive oil is used for deep-frying, and it’s good; furthermore, it has become so inexpensive that it’s no longer impractical. But you can use a neutral oil, like corn or vegetable oil, if you prefer.

This dish is a specialty of the South of France, but living or visiting on the coast of Georgia you are quite likely to see it offered on menus. I hope you enjoy The Lady & Sons’ version of this wonderful French dish. Feel free to add any of your favorite shellfish to the pot.

Cauliflower is delicious cooked with anchovy. At Trattoria Ferdinando III they add distinctively Sicilian touches like raisins, pine nuts, and saffron to make a marvelous cauliflower dressing for pasta.

Peas are so perfect on their own, it’s a wonder it ever occurred to anyone to cook them in the first place. But fortunately someone did. A trillion peas later, after endless refinements on the art of making a pea more perfect than a pea, the French Laundry created its cold pea soup, a spring rain cloud of viridian sugars skimming a truffled forest. But before Thomas Keller could make his soup, we had to grow up watching Julia Child chiding us about making the blanching water incredibly hot, and salting it, and treating the pea with the utmost love and care. It was Julia Child who rescued cooked peas from the ignominy of creamed cafeteria concoctions, restored their preciousness, and gave them back to us like so many incandescent pearls rolled from the fair hand of nature. A drop of saffron cream shot through with a taut bolt of salt cradles and charges this blanched pea with its own electricity.

After an exotic Indian or Moroccan feast, sprinkle this ice cream (and your guests) with a few drops of rosewater and top it all off (the ice cream, not your guests) with a few toasted pine nuts. For a stunning presentation, serve it on a platter with thinly sliced oranges dusted with cinnamon and scattered with candied French Almonds (page 189).

I call this “company food”—as in, what can I make for company that’s easy but impressive? Poaching a pear sounds fancy, but all you’re doing is simmering it in a fruity broth. The poaching softens up the pear, making it a breeze to chew and digest. The Saffron Broth turns the pears a beautiful sunset yellow color. Or if you prefer, check out the vanilla and star anise variations below. All three are light, refreshing, and nourishing; if you’re looking for extra calories, top with a generous dollop of nut cream.