New Years

The enormous residual heat of polenta is sufficient, as the saying goes, “to cook an egg.” Do just that to make this treat for breakfast or brunch.

This is one of the simplest recipes in this book, and it is one of the most sublime. Yes, truffles add a mystique—but even without them this is my favorite way to cook eggs. Essential to this procedure is never to allow the olive oil to reach temperatures at which heat alters and degrades the flavors. Hence, you will ultimately have the full presence of fresh olive oil in a natural state intermingled with the egg and truffle flavors. Thus, the quality of the olive oil is paramount here, more than in most cooked dishes. I like using lighter and more vegetal olive oils from the Lago di Garda district, Friuli-Venezia Giulia, or Istria. Another important point is to keep the curd of the egg large and soft. The steady but gentle dragging of the curds—strapazzati means “dragged”—and controlled heat prevents any part from cooking solid, and in this moist state all the natural flavor of the egg comes through. As with olive oil, the best quality eggs are essential—as fresh as can be, and organic if possible. There is a basic lesson to be learned in this recipe that applies to Italian cooking—for that matter, to all cooking—get the best ingredients, do not overcrowd the flavors, and work the food as little as possible. Along with this lesson, I am sure, you’ll get some of the best scrambled eggs you’ve ever tasted—even without truffles.

Just a hint of chocolate at the end of the party completes the evening—and these taste fabulous with the Bellinis. Run your hands under cold water (and dry well each time) while you’re rolling the truffles into balls to prevent the chocolate from melting in your hands (and ruining your manicure . . . ).

SHELBI One of my fondest memories is of Mom cooking collard greens on Saturday afternoon in preparation for dinner after church on Sunday. It was like a mini–Thanksgiving feast! GINA It’s true, Shelbi grew up on collards, and she got that love from me. Nana’s garden had rows and rows of those big leafy plants. Sautéing these Southern favorites in a buttery onion-and-garlic sauce is the best, and putting them on toast is just another twist to stay creative with collards.

GINA You could easily order pizza for delivery, but why not have flat-bread instead, and cut it into little squares? You can just buy the dough from your local grocer (or your local pizzeria, if you ask nicely) and add in all the other ingredients. Ripe figs will turn your traditional pizza into an amazing party favorite. We absolutely love this dish: it’s hearty yet light, fruity, and flavorful. If you find the taste of blue cheese too strong, you can always substitute a mild goat cheese, which has a creamy tang that also goes well with the figs. We add the handfuls of fresh arugula to the flatbread while it’s still hot, to add a pop of bright peppery flavor and color.

GINA Ever since I was a little girl, my mom has been telling me that if you don’t eat black-eyed peas on New Year’s Day you’ll have a bad year ahead of you. Now, when I was younger I didn’t care a bit. I was going through that awkward stage anyway—how much worse could it be? But as I got older, I learned to love that black-eyed pea tradition, convinced that my year was going to be fantastic! And you know what’s funny? I tell my girls the same thing. Who says traditions and superstitions aren’t effective? Not to mention that black-eyed peas are rich in calcium and vitamin A. What could be bad about that? Of course, this being a Gina recipe, I added in my favorite collard greens. . . . Mmm, even better.

PAT You won’t find a collard green—or a green of any kind, for that matter—that Gina hasn’t mastered and found a dozen ways to cook. She’s queen of the twists on greens. The idea for this particular twist came from stuffed cabbage with a vinegary red sauce—but we think this is even better than that recipe. Don’t you?

This salad is a stellar addition to a midwinter antipasto plate, full of bright flavors that seem to hint at warmer days ahead. In the short, dark days of a Seattle January, that’s especially welcome. Because of the salad’s simplicity, it’s important to use the heaviest, sweetest oranges you can find and use a firm, briny olive. Arbequinas or Gaetas are fine substitutes for the Taggiascas; mushy supermarket Kalamatas are not. Serve the salad shortly after you prepare it. As it sits, the flavor of the shallot continues to develop and the lovely balance of the salad is lost.

Totten Virginicas, Stellar Bay Kusshis, and Shigoku oysters are my top three oysters. Shigokus are Pacific oysters raised in floating bags that rise and fall with the tide, creating a small, firm “tumbled” oyster in a scoop-shaped shell. They have an amazingly clean taste that hovers somewhere between saltwater and cucumber. Because their taste is so pure, I keep my garnishes straightforward. The Meyer Lemon Ice is a sweet, frozen version of a lemon squeeze, and the pickled beets are my idea of a mignonette. You can choose to prepare only one, but the array of all three, with oysters glistening on a bed of cracked ice, is one of the nicest ways I know to start an evening...or an afternoon. You’ll need crushed ice for serving the oysters. If you don’t have a refrigerator that dispenses it, you can crush it in a food processor or blender. In the restaurants, we grind the ice ahead of time and put it in a colander over a bowl so some of the water drains out. Another trick is to line the bowl with paper towels to soak up any melting water while the oysters are being served.

I love broiling Kusshis not only because they have a lovely, delicate texture and a good brininess, but also because they have deeply cupped shells that hold both liquid and a lot of delicious breadcrumbs. Cherrystone clams would be a great substitute, and Totten Virginica, Barron Point, or Shigoku oysters would also work well, because they are the right size to hold up to the heat. Save tiny Kumomotos for eating on the half shell.

When it comes to good luck, Southerners don’t take any chances. Each year on New Year’s Day, we hedge our bets by eating hoppin’ John, a rustic mix of rice, black-eyed peas, bacon, and onion that is thought to bring good fortune in the year to come. (Literally—the peas in the dish represent coins, and the stewed collards that are usually served on the side are the rich green of dollar bills.) For extra good luck, serve with Mess o’ Greens (page 245).