Sour Cream

This is the perfect soup if you don’t have much time. The whole thing’s made in the microwave, and it’s delicious.

These pancakes, the signature griddle dish at Bubby’s, were inspired by James Beard’s excellent recipe. Half the milk called for in Mr. Beard’s recipe is replaced with sour cream, resulting in a fluffy, deep golden griddle cake. Mix the dry ingredients and mix the wet ingredients separately ahead of time, but don’t make this batter more than three hours in advance or it might deflate. Serve with plenty of butter and maple syrup, Canadian bacon, or one of Bubby’s fruit compotes (pages 276 to 278).

What impresses me the most about all the types of cornbread is how quickly they can be brought to the table. Warm bread for supper makes everything taste better. My version of pantry cooking is to pull a bag of butter beans or black-eyed peas frozen last summer out of the freezer and cook a pot of rice. While the rice is cooking, I can throw together a batch of corn muffins. It’s a simple, quick supper ready in less than thirty minutes. The fallacy that you need to open a can or use a mix is just that—a lie. I find that shortcuts and prepared products actually do not often make things easier, and usually take as long as doing things “right” in the first place.

While I lived and worked at La Varenne, we often dined outside on a terrace overlooking miles of Burgundian countryside. One memorable day, I cut off the tip of my left thumb while preparing potato salad for one of our outdoor feasts. I quickly wrapped my hand in a towel and raised it above my head. I grabbed the severed bit from the cutting board in my right hand, walked into Anne Willan’s office, and told her I had cut myself. She asked to see it. I refused. She insisted. Finally, opening my right palm, I said, “Well, here it is.” The grand dame Anne blanched and replied, “Oh dear, I think we need a Cognac.” After a trip to the hospital I did enjoy the feast, but declined a serving of the potato salad.

This comforting soup is delicately spiced with classic flavors and ingredients of the Southwest.

When I was an exchange student in France, I was only an hour and a half from London, so of course, I had to make several trips there. On one trip while wandering around Covent Garden watching the street performers, I came across a vendor selling pasties. I had wanted to try this traditional English dish and when I saw one with apples I knew it was time. Oh man, was it good. In fact, it might be the best apple dessert I’ve ever had, and coming from me, an apple-dessert connoisseur, that’s saying a lot.

This traditional Mexican dessert is the most unusual cake I have ever made, but it’s excellent. The cake rises when it bakes, falls when it cools, and rises again when it absorbs all of the milk topping. Serve it in small bowls because once it is cut, the liquid comes out to form a sauce.

This is based on a French dish popular during the cold winter months. They use Reblochon, a super delicious stinky cheese, but since it’s hard to find here (and expensive), I used Swiss instead. This is so delicious that I cut it into quarters as soon as it comes out of the oven to avoid the fights over who got more. (And I’m not kidding about that.)

What is tzatziki you ask? It’s a cucumber sauce that they serve as a spread for pita bread in every Greek restaurant. And, if that doesn’t help, it’s the white sauce that they put on gyros. If you still don’t know what I mean, make it and you’ll find out.

As one of my all-time favorite dishes, I make this recipe all the time. It’s best with fresh mushrooms, but I will admit that if I don’t have any in the refrigerator (or if I’m feeling particularly lazy), I will make this with canned mushrooms and it’s still yummy. When your friends think you’ve created a masterpiece, remember you don’t have to tell them how easy it was.

This cheesecake is a cross between a New York style and the creamier, no-bake versions. It is really good and really impressive looking (and really big). We usually save this for family parties since it serves twelve people, but if you are making it for your family, it can be refrigerated for four or five days or sliced, individually covered in plastic wrap, and frozen.

Taco Salad is awesome because it is literally a whole meal in one salad—and a vegetarian meal at that. If you want to add meat to the salad, you can cook and drain 1 pound of ground beef, stir in 1 tablespoon of chile powder, and spoon it onto the salad before you add the cheese. Tortilla shell bowls can be difficult to find, but you can just line a bowl with tortilla chips and get the same effect.

Brilliant pink fresh strawberry ice cream is a classic flavor and, along with chocolate and vanilla, is an American favorite. I’m a big fan of any kind of berries served with tangy sour cream, but I think strawberries are the most delicious, especially when frozen into a soft, rosy red scoop of ice cream. Macerating the strawberries beforehand magically transforms even so-so berries into fruits that are brilliantly red. Try to eat this ice cream soon after it’s been churned.

This is the first ice cream that springs to mind when people recall hand-cranked, old-fashioned fruit ice creams from their past. More than any other homemade ice cream, this is perhaps the most beloved of all flavors and is indeed best when spooned right out of the machine, just moments after it’s been churned. An easy way to peel peaches is to cut an X at the bottom and then lower them in a pot of boiling water for about 20 seconds. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the peaches to a colander and shock them with cold water, then let them cool. Afterward, you’ll find their fuzzy peels just slip right off.

I had a sheltered life growing up in staid New England and never tasted an avocado until I was a teenager and took my first trip to California. There I was served a salad loaded with chunks of avocado, squishy, pale, and icky green. I tried to spear the offending slices to get them off my plate, but they resisted my persistent jabs and kept eluding my grasp. Now I realize that those luscious tidbits were trying to tell me something, and I regret the loss of so many avocados that I could have loved. If you’re hesitant to try avocado ice cream, let my foolhardy prejudice be a lesson to you. The best avocados are the pebbly-skinned Hass variety. When ripe and ready, the flesh should give just a little when pressed. And be sure to try the Avocado Licuado con Leche in the Perfect Pairing at the end of the recipe. It is unbelievably delicious.

When friends found out I was writing a book on ice cream, many felt compelled to “help out” by passing along really odd flavor combinations they’d either seen or heard of. But somehow, I just couldn’t seem to get enthusiastic about combinations like Clam-Raisin or Duck Fat Swirl. However, when Judy Witts raved about this combination, which she’d enjoyed at her local gelateria in Florence, it piqued my interest. After a bit of trial and error, I discovered that the key to preserving the character of pecorino is to very finely dice the cheese rather than grating it. The little bites of salty cheese are the perfect counterpoint to the fruity, pear-flavored custard.

One winter I visited my friend Kate Hill, who lives in Gascony, a region famous for its tasty prunes, les pruneaux d’Agen. As a means of prying me away from the cozy kitchen hearth, where I could happily eat cassoulet and drink Armagnac all day by the fire, we decided to do something cultural and visit the local prune museum. It was all rather exciting: an entire museum full of educational displays on the history of prunes, including informative dioramas showing the various phases of prune production. We ended our visit with a thrilling film explaining prune cultivation and harvesting, which was a real nail-biter. On our way out, near the prune-filled gift shop (there was a comic book about a prune-fueled superhero…I’m not kidding), was a shrine with a jar holding what they claimed was the world’s oldest prune, dating back to the mid-1800s. For this recipe, you should use prunes that are wrinkled but not necessarily that old, and be alert that it’s become au courant to call them dried plums in America.

When I first started to travel to France regularly, the French, when they found out I was American, would rhapsodize “J’adore le Philadelphia!” It took me a while to realize they were enthralled with our cream cheese, which is indeed worthy of international acclaim. They’ve adopted cheesecake too, calling it le gâteau fromage or simply le cheesecake.

Maybe I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer. When I visited the Chartreuse distillery in the French Alps, our guide told us that the exact recipe for the famed herbal liqueur was a closely guarded secret, known only by three brothers who worked at the monastery. Astounded, I spoke up. “Wow, that’s incredible. What is the likelihood of three brothers going into the same business together, as well as becoming monks at the same monastery?” The other guests on the tour simply stopped and looked at me with their mouths slightly agape. Then our guide enlightened me and we moved on, but not before I overheard a few hushed conversations evaluating my intellect. This is a very light ice cream, and it’s so simple that anyone, regardless of their intelligence level, can easily put it together.