Thyme

These smoky flavored olives are always the first thing to disappear off an antipasti platter or hors d’oeuvres spread. The brightness of the orange zest enhances the earthy flavors of the olives; you can use freshly squeezed orange juice if you don’t have zest. I love to serve these straight from the oven, still warm.

I love the Southwest of the United States and the foods of that region. This recipe features three ingredients borrowed from its Native American culture: corn, beans, and peppers. Here, the stew is made with vegetable stock, but you can also use chicken stock. Wood-roasted pork shoulder or chicken can be shredded and added to the dish for an even heartier meal. The heirloom beans come from my friend Steve Sando’s company, Rancho Gordo. You can substitute other dried beans, but the flavor will be best if you use Rancho Gordo beans (see Resources). The stew can be made a day ahead and reheated just before serving. Any leftovers are terrific as a filling for tamales or enchiladas.

The dusky flavor of smoked paprika makes quite an impact on the usual creamy ranch. We either make this from scratch or just sprinkle the paprika into bottled ranch. A little smoked paprika is also a nice addition to any basic vinaigrette.

Since R. B. has expanded his blade assortment beyond an ax, a maul, and a cleaver to include a few kitchen knives, he’s more than happy to wield the Santoku for diced salad vegetables. This kitchen task is best suited for the detail oriented. Around here, that would be R. B., whose T-shirt collection is always impeccably folded, stacked, and arranged by hobby. Instead of limp baby weeds, we vote for a crisp head of chilled iceberg lettuce that cuts beautifully into bite-size pieces for serving with barbecue.

Taylor Bay Scallops are named for fisherman Rod Taylor, who farm-raises them and harvests them by hand in the icy waters off Cape Cod. Unlike diver scallops, which are larger and have a meaty texture, the small, delicate Taylor Bays are sold live in their beautiful pink shells. Their size and sweetness make them perfect for steaming, which releases the juices trapped in the scallop shells, giving an oceany, scallopy flavor to the broth.

Lucques had been open only a few months when we were asked to host an Alsatian wine dinner. Working on the menu reminded me of a road trip I had taken many years before through that northeastern region of France. With a corkscrew in the glove compartment and a stinky wheel of Muenster tucked away in the backseat, my boyfriend and I tooled around the picturesque Alsatian countryside. We lived for a few days on tall glasses of Hefeweizen—golden, unfiltered wheat beer always served with a slice of lemon—and on wedges of Flammeküche, warm, cheesy bacon-onion tarts. I made this version of that traditional tart for our wine dinner.

In the early days at Lucques, Corina Weibel, my opening sous-chef, and I were the only two cooks in the kitchen on Sundays. After a hectic Saturday night, both of us looked forward to cooking in a tranquil kitchen on Sunday. During those afternoons, Corina loved to tell stories about her Swiss heritage and to reminisce about her grandmother’s cooking. When she described her grossi’s potatoes, a combination of crisp sautéed potatoes with a coating of crunchy breadcrumbs, I knew I would love them (starch plus starch!).

When you live in Southern California it’s hard not to be influenced by the spicy, vibrant flavors of Mexican food. People might imagine chefs spending their few and precious nights out wining and dining on five-course meals, but in reality you’re far more likely to find me at the sushi bar, Korean barbecue house, or my favorite taqueria. This spiced pork stew satisfies my cravings for the spicy, robust flavors of ethnic food. I start with some of the Mexican spices I love so much—cumin, cayenne, coriander, and chile—tossing them with chunks of fatty and flavorful pork shoulder and braising it into this succulent pork stew. Pork shoulder is one of my favorite cuts to cook with. As an added bonus, it’s one of the few meats that are still pretty inexpensive. People go crazy for this tender, slow-cooked pork bathed in its own spicy sauce, but don’t worry—it’s so impressive, they’ll never know you did it on the cheap.

Although they might sound like an odd combination, hot crispy squid and spicy chorizo tossed together with spinach, cilantro, and olives make an irresistible warm salad. This salad is a salute to the Portuguese and the Spanish, who have been cooking seafood and meat together for centuries, long before the term “surf and turf” was coined.

My very first chef position was at a twenty-eight-seat restaurant called Alloro, located in Boston’s very Italian North End. At that point in my career, my cooking experience was rooted mostly in French cuisine, but the owner didn’t seem to mind. When I asked him if I had to cook strictly Italian food, his answer was, “No, no, no! Cook whatever you want. We’ll just give it an Italian name.” The French bistro classic salmon with beluga lentils and red wine butter was abbreviated to “Salmone” on the menu, and other quasi-French dishes were likewise masked under short Italian names. The pasta dishes I made at Alloro also strayed from Italian tradition. For my version of the classic spaghetti alle vongole, I added generous amounts of onion, fennel, and olive oil, and sprinkled breadcrumbs toasted with thyme on top. I also finished the sauce with a spot of butter (the French influence again), which thickened and enriched it. In theory, I’m sure my version of spaghetti with clams would outrage purists in both the Italian and the French camps, but one bite ought to be enough to convince them they have lots to learn from each other. Though you might not think of it as such, the water in which you cook pasta is a valuable ingredient, in virtually any pasta recipe. Do your noodles seem a little dry once you’ve tossed them in the sauce? Rather than correcting the problem with stock (which can alter the flavor balance) or oil (which can add greasiness), add a little pasta water instead. Not only will it moisten the dish, but the starch in it (left from the cooking of the pasta) will also help bind the sauce to the noodles. Try it out; it works.