Sausage

This is a Mediterranean dish that can be done more authentically if you can get your hands on branches of fresh edible bay (laurel), but that’s not always easy (you could use rosemary or fennel branches quite successfully, and they’re equally traditional, though obviously different in flavor). In the original version, you throw a few branches of bay (laurel) onto a grill and top with sausage. My oven method uses somewhat less bay and is virtually foolproof. Other cuts of meat you can use here: chunks of pork or lamb, cut from the shoulder, or boneless chicken thighs.

If you like franks and beans, this is for you. There are, of course, more complicated versions, ending with cassoulet, but this is the starting point. Other cuts of meat you can use here: longer, because they need some simmering time, but very good, are browned chunks of pork or lamb shoulder (or both), cooked in the beans in place of (or in addition to) the sausage.

Some Spaniards, like my friend Jose Andres, a chef based in Washington, D.C., who taught me this recipe, can talk until they’re blue in the face about fabada, the famous pork and bean stew they say is “the grandfather of the French cassoulet.” They will remind you to use only real fabes (dried beans you can find only at gourmet stores or specialty Web sites and that cost up to $20 a pound), tell you that you must have fresh morcilla (blood sausage), and on and on until you’re convinced that there’s no way you could ever make fabada at home. But dedication to the dish’s origins, along with a couple of simple substitutions, allows you to retain its spirit without going nuts.

This is the cassouletlike dish of the mountains between Spain and France, claimed by several cultures. When I was there, I was told that each of twenty different versions was the “only” authentic one; in this way, too, it’s like cassoulet. What they all had in common were the large white beans called Tarbais (after Tarbes, one of the larger towns of the region)—which you probably will not be able to find—and a stultifying heartiness. Great stuff: you must serve it with crusty country bread and a good red wine.

“Hunter’s stew” is probably one of the oldest and most popular dishes in Eastern Europe. Like cassoulet and bouillabaisse, it is one of those preparations that can be made with whatever is on hand—you most often see it with venison—and may be a casual dish that can be stored and reheated many times (and can accommodate leftovers) or something served to beloved guests on holy days. Traditionally, bigos took three days to make, but there’s no need to stick to that tradition; it’s just as good when made all at once. Inexpensive dried black or shiitake mushrooms (sold at most Asian markets) are good here; pricier porcini are better. Or use a combination of dried and fresh mushrooms. Serve with rye bread. Other cuts of meat you can use here: anything—pork, veal, lamb, venison, duck, goose, or a combination; it’s a mishmash.

Choucroute, the Alsatian specialty, is a near-perfect party dish: you can easily make it in advance and in quantity. This version, with boiled potatoes cooked right in, is also a one-pot dish. Serve it with bread— preferably good rye or pumpernickel—and you’re all set. (Well, you’ll also need some hot mustard and beer or Alsatian wine.) Feel free to vary the meats however you like. But, as is always the case, buy sauerkraut that is either sold in bulk or packed in plastic and contains no more than cabbage and salt.

In Brazil, feijoada is a meat dish with beans. In Goa, another former colony of Portugal, it is a bean dish in which meat is optional. I have been served and prepared it with both kidney beans and black-eyed peas and prefer it with the latter. To serve more people, simply double the beans and increase the remaining ingredients slightly or add meat; it won’t be much more effort. Serve over rice and make this entirely in advance if you like; it will keep, refrigerated, for a couple of days. Other legumes you can prepare this way: kidney or other red beans, black beans.

A dish I learned from my good friend Andrea, who is originally from Rome but has collected unusual pasta dishes from all over Italy. This is clearly a peasant dish, but the presence of sausage, butter, and cream makes it special enough for guests. Use well-seasoned “Italian” sausage; it can be hot if you like. That made without casing—in patties or bulk—will save you a step.

Interestingly, though this is usually and correctly associated with Eastern Europe, I had it first in northeastern Italy. That’s not entirely surprising, because the Alto Adige region of Italy, also known as the Tyrol, was part of Austria until after World War I. Often thickened with rice, this soup can also be used as a sauce for pasta; see the variation.

Galicia’s hearty bean and meat stew makes a terrific one-pot meal but is often served in cups as a starter. The rich flavors of the meat and beans are complemented by the sharp turnip and greens. In Galicia, the meat base is made from unto, a cured pork belly that I would tell you how to find if I knew. It’s not unlike pancetta but most like the fatty part of prosciutto, which would make a great substitute; salt pork or bacon is also fine—here I use a combination. There are as many ways to vary Caldo Gallego as there are to vary beef stew. For example, substitute chickpeas for the white beans; add chunks of pork shoulder, ribs, beef brisket, shin, chuck, or oxtail with the beans (increase the cooking time somewhat); replace the chorizo with other sausage; add peeled chunks of winter squash, pumpkin, apple, or pear; or substitute green beans or kale, collards, or chard for the cabbage.

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.

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 soupy appetizer (you can make it a little drier if you like) and a good one, a terrific example of making something delicious out of a few scraps. You must cook dried chickpeas yourself for this one; canned chickpeas will not cut it. Likewise, you must make homemade bread crumbs. Do these two things and you will love this dish

Hearty and warming, this is a popular winter dish in China, and rightly so. If you have a rice cooker, this is a good place to use it; it will allow you both to make the rice and to keep it warm. Even better is to wrap the rice in lotus leaves, as in the variation, which gives it a rich, smoky flavor and produces a dish often served at dim sum brunches. You can find lotus (or banana) leaves, as well as Chinese sausage and dried shrimp, at most Asian markets.

Leftover rice is not only acceptable here but practically mandatory: fresh or warm rice does not fry well, but clumps together and sticks to the wok. You need cold, stale rice, which separates during cooking. If you have neither roast pork (even the Cuban Lechon Asado, page 375, will work) nor Chinese sausage, ham is a fine substitute. No meat at all is fine, too, of course; see the variations.

An ingenious way of turning leftover bread into a substantial dish, migas is best served as an appetizer, because a little goes a long way. Eat it straight from the pan if you like, but in any case, hot, hot, hot. If your bread is stale, you can start this right away. If not, slice it and let it sit out overnight to harden.

The original and superior version of nachos with cheese has the smoky spiciness of roasted chile and chorizo. While it can be served with tortilla chips, it is best scooped and wrapped into warm corn or flour tortillas. This makes a great simple lunch served with salad or soup.

A classic tapa that’s challenging only to the extent that it’s hard to find good chorizo; it should not be too well dried but rather fresh and soft. Plenty is being made in the States now, especially in Florida, California, and New York—the major centers of Latin cuisine. Since chorizo is so intensely flavored already, it takes few ingredients to make this dish, but it’s still pretty powerful. In northwestern Spain they make this with the local sidra Asturiana, or hard cider; to try it that way, omit the garlic and parsley and substitute hard cider (English, French, or American hard cider is fine) for the red wine.

A street snack of Central America and the Caribbean, empanadas can really be filled with anything you have on hand. This recipe and its variations offer several of the traditional fillings. Masa harina can be found at most supermarkets and Latin grocery stores. It adds a nice crunch to the dough, but regular flour works well, too.

Italians love fennel, finocchio, but Americans are just getting familiar with it. It is terrific raw, and in Piedmont is dipped raw into hot oil with anchovies. It is also great served solo as a braised vegetable. I love the hint of anise flavor in it, as well as the crunchy crack under my teeth when I eat it raw as a snack. The crumbled sausages make this a very flavorful vegetable dish that can also be used to dress pasta. It can be made in advance, keeps well, and reheats well. What more could you ask of a vegetable?