Brandy

Not all sauté recipes start with dredging the meat in flour. Instead, this recipe demonstrates how meat can achieve a nice sear simply by relying on the high heat of the pan (and a little science, called the Maillard reactions; see page 126). To encourage browning, you must make sure the meat is dry, as moisture will hinder the process. First, pat the meat dry with paper towels and wait to salt it until just before cooking (since salt will draw the juices to the surface). The sautéed meat will leave golden-brown bits behind, so you’ll want to deglaze the pan and incorporate them into a pan sauce. This one is made with a fragrant combination of brandy, shallots, apples, and raisins (all good partners for pork) and finished with cream, which thickens as it simmers, giving body to the sauce.

One of the best reasons to make your own basic brown stock is that it means French onion soup from scratch is within easy reach. (You can also make the soup with white beef stock, page 42.) Like many other bistro classics, French onion soup has humble origins as a staple of thrifty households, where a pot of stock—itself born of frugality—was the foundation for many family meals. Even those with limited resources could make soupe a l’oignon since it calls for little else: pounds of inexpensive and readily available onions, a crusty baguette (providing a way to use up day-old bread), and a chunk of sharp Gruyère cheese, grated to turn a little into a lot. Because there are so few components, each one is enhanced in some way to contribute to the final dish. The homemade stock provides both color and robust taste, as well as ensuring a silky consistency. Caramelizing the onions gives them a wonderful sweetness (and more dark brown color). Toasted bread adds a textural note, while gratinéed cheese introduces another pleasing component. Similar to the burnt-sugar shell atop crème brûlée, the molten, golden crown invites tucking into with a spoon. This recipe can be halved, but since the soup freezes well, it is worth making the full amount.

Think of this dessert as sweet, crunchy rice pudding–filled ravioli. It is composed of many elements, none of which are difficult to make and all of which, apart from the frying, can be prepared in advance. But you need to plan ahead and make the various elements in stages. To make the sauce, look for quality, plump raisins, such as flame raisins, a moist and flavorful variety that we find at our local farmers’ markets. We use cannoli dough in this recipe, which gets really crisp and blistered after it’s fried. We run the dough through a pasta sheeter, but if you don’t have one, you can roll the dough thin using a rolling pin on a lightly dusted surface. You will need a 3-inch square cookie cutter (preferably fluted) to make these.

White chocolate and apricot complement each other perfectly. The addition of apricot brandy or Cointreau gives these truffles a special zip.

The pungent flavor of crystallized ginger blends perfectly with the richness of white chocolate. These truffles have a slightly granular texture, which adds to the pleasure of eating them.

Cooking blintzes takes a bit of practice. A nonstick skillet is a great help. The first blintz is almost never perfect; just discard it and start again. The blintzes can be made through step 4 up to 2 hours ahead.

The buckwheat flour adds a deep, assertive flavor to this dessert; the flour is also highly nutritious.

With its chewy exterior and warm, puddinglike center, this dessert might be considered the more refined cousin of molten cake. With or without crème anglaise, it’s a showstopper.

When you look at recipes for European holiday breads like panettone, stollen, tsoureki, and christopsomo, it seems as if they are all related, often sharing similar ingredients and proportions of fat and sugar. Often, the main difference is in the shaping and in the history and symbolism of each bread. But heaven help any of us if we propose that thought to someone who grew up with any of those breads. I once made stollen, panettone, and kulich (Russian Easter bread) from a recipe for multipurpose holiday bread for a group of chefs and explained my theory of their similarities. Later, one of the American chefs told me I had offended some of the Germans who grew up on stollen and who were adamant that stollen is nothing like panettone. So I will resist the temptation to call this formula a multipurpose holiday bread (though I have made many types of bread from it) and instead limit it to its application as Dresden stollen. Dresden is considered the spiritual home of this traditional Christmas bread. The bread symbolizes the blanket of the baby Jesus, and the colored fruits represent the gifts of the Magi. As in nearly every festival bread, the story aspect of this loaf is culturally important, for it is a way parents teach their children about their heritage. When such a story is accompanied by the flavor memory of a particular food, you have a tool much more powerful than didactic or pedagogical teaching. I’m convinced this must be the reason I offended those Germans that day when I implied that a stollen was like a panettone. Perhaps in taste and ingredients, yes, but never in association.

Panettone is a traditional, rich Christmas bread originating in Milan. There are many folktales about its origins, the most popular being that it was created a few hundred years ago by a humble baker named Tony to woo his beloved, the daughter of a rich merchant. More importantly, he had to win over the father to the idea of his daughter marrying a baker, so he pulled out all the stops, filling his bread with the baker’s equivalent of the gifts of the wise men: butter, brandied dried and candied fruits, nuts, and sugar. The merchant was so impressed that he not only gave his daughter in marriage, but also set Tony up with his own bakery in Milan with the promise that he would continue to make his bread, pane Tony. For many years the standard panettone found in most bakeries and cookbooks has been one made with commercial yeast, a good but not great rendition. The best and most traditional versions are made by wild-yeast fermentation, augmented by a small amount of commercial yeast. Recently, one of the largest panettone bakeries in Italy changed its formula from commercial yeast to wild yeast, returning to the more traditional method that had all but been abandoned. The bakers discovered that not only does the bread have a longer shelf life due to the increased acidity, but it also outsold the commercial-yeast version. This added up to a huge increase in profits and, more importantly, to happier customers. The following formula will produce a long-keeping loaf that could easily become a perennial favorite at holiday time. It is more time-consuming to produce, but that’s the price of world-class quality. You can also make a perfectly good panettone by following the Stollen formula on page 252, shaping it in the round panettone style.

Reducing the liquid for this dish yields an intensely flavored sauce, so a little is all you need.