White Wine

I have always loved leeks, but now they have a particularly romantic context in my life. The first time I met my (then future) husband, Chip, he cooked chicken with leeks, a dish that knocked me out. (I guess I should mention that he worked as a professional chef in New Orleans for ten years.) He blanched the leeks, so they were bright green and pliable, then wrapped them around a stuffed chicken breast. It was the most beautiful, seductive presentation. Since then, every time I cook with leeks I think of that dish—and him. Leeks have an interesting, subtle flavor that suggests asparagus or salsify (a root vegetable). A lot of Americans don’t know how to use them, and they tend to be pricey. But this simple bistro presentation shows that they are worth the splurge. This is the most basic French preparation for leeks, and one of the most delicious. It’s also the recipe that sold me on them forever.

This is the best cheese fondue I’ve ever had—Megan got the recipe when she was in France. You can use most kinds of hard white French or Swiss cheese, but be sure not to use store-bought grated cheese. Those cheeses are tossed in cornstarch so the pieces don’t stick together. If you use them in cheese fondue, the cornstarch forms a hard lump in the pan. Note that this recipe uses a cup of wine—it’s very French to cook with wine—which is one of the things that makes this fondue classic.

Once looked down upon as so 1950s, the iceberg wedge with tangy blue cheese dressing has made a comeback, and with good reason. I’m always amazed at the enthusiastic response when I set out these salads—either on a party buffet table, or for a sit-down dinner. Guys especially love it.

Lightly sweet and refreshingly tart, white sangria marries beautifully with just about everything Tex-Mex. It goes together easily in advance, making it one of my top picks for parties of any size.

For the porchetta at the RoliRoti truck, Thomas uses a deboned pork middle, cutting out about half of the belly fat and leaving about 1/2 inch of fat on the loin. If you’re unable to find pork middle (a special request item, for sure), he suggests using a skin-on pork belly and wrapping the loin inside of it. Thomas also uses his signature rotisserie. Using a home version would be ideal, but this recipe has been adjusted so that it can be made in a standard oven.

With the fresh, zesty taste of basil and garlic, these juicy sausages are a perfect homemade accompaniment to a variety of egg dishes. Ask the butcher to grind up the pork butt, and make sure the pork is well chilled (32°F) before starting on this recipe. The meat and fat need to stay very cold during the grinding and mixing process. Otherwise, the sausage comes out mealy because the fat doesn’t maintain its form and melts into the meat.

A huge pie, lighter and (slightly) less trouble than a lasagne, this is as satisfying as winter food gets. Even with top-notch chicken and heavy cream, it is hardly an expensive supper, and it feeds four generously (some of us went back for seconds).

I relish the frugality and bonhomie of a bowl of onion soup. This is slightly richer and thicker than the one in The Kitchen Diaries, possibly for colder weather. I don’t often use flour to thicken a soup but in this case it produces a particularly velvety texture.

The animal’s tail has a gentle life, the occasional swish in a buttercup-strewn meadow, and I like to think that is reflected in how we choose to cook it. Oxtail is a meal of almost soporific qualities. It will not be hurried toward tenderness any more than the animal will be hurried along a country lane. After a long, slow baking with a lot of finely sliced onions and a little aromatic liquid, the velvety fibers will fall away from the bone in brown and pink flakes. Some spinach, very lightly cooked and served without butter, will flatter the meat and melt into the creamy sauce.

Green stuff—asparagus, nettles, peas, spinach, and fava beans—adds life and vigor to the seemingly endless calm of a shallow plate of risotto. My first attempt found me convinced that I didn’t need to skin the beans. In theory it works, but the skins interfere with the harmony of stock, rice, and cheese and add an unwelcome chewiness. I am not sure you should ever need to chew a risotto.

This lightly pickled mackerel is “cooked” through by the acid in the vinegar. Use high-quality fish, and keep it refrigerated until you marinate it. Use a glass or ceramic baking dish as metal can interfere with the pickling process. Both Spanish and king mackerel are fished using low-impact methods, and populations in the Atlantic and the U.S. Gulf of Mexico are thriving. They reproduce in high numbers and mature quickly, so mackerel are considered safe from overfishing. Start this recipe the night before serving so the fish has time to marinate.

White chili is usually made with white beans and fresh green chiles rather than the usual red or pink beans and dried red chiles. The bit of cream gives it a very rich mouthfeel. White chili is a wonderful change of pace on a cold winter evening by the fire.

Few folks are as opinionated about all things apple as Frank Browning, whom I’ve dubbed the Apple Autocrat. Frank grew up on an apple farm in Kentucky, which nurtured his headstrong, southern-style convictions regarding apples. He offered this recipe from An Apple Harvest, which he cowrote with Sharon Silva, but absolutely insisted that I make it only in the fall, when good-tasting, red-skinned apples are in abundance. So wait I did. Okay… I didn’t wait. But please don’t tell Frank. I made this during the spring using Jonagold apples, which worked great. And although Frank insisted I use Gewürztraminer, I made it with a dry Riesling instead (blame my rebellious Yankee spirit). So feel free to use any tasty, red-skinned apple, but don’t use bland Red Delicious ones, or you might get yourself a Kentucky-style comeuppance.

I love, love, love dried apricots. They’re one of my favorite foods on earth, as long as they’re the ones from California. People are often tempted by Turkish and Chinese dried apricots, since they’re usually more colorful and far more plump (and cheaper), but I find them terribly sweet, and ice cream made with them lacks the delicious flavor and intensity of dried apricots. The combination of pistachio nuts and apricots is particularly good. Don’t toast the pistachio nuts or they’ll lose their lovely green hue. Make sure the pistachio nuts you’re using are fresh and crisp.

Fondue has provided nourishment to mountain folk in Switzerland and the Italian and French Alps through many a hard, cold winter. Made from what must have been, at times, the only ingredients at hand, stale bread and hard cheese, the communal rites that developed around the eating of fondue sustained spirits as well as bodies. Although Emmentaler, Gruyère, and fontina are fondue classics, you can actually use any kind of “mountain” cheese, such as Appenzeller, Comté, or Beaufort. The slow, even heat of the slow cooker is just perfect for making a smooth, effortless fondue. I suggest using a 2- or 3-quart slow cooker for the fondue. It fits more easily on the table and is more suitable size for this amount of fondue.

I often serve small glasses of vin d’orange as a warm-weather aperitif. Anyone who enjoys Lillet is likely to enjoy this fruity and slightly bitter fortified wine. But be careful—it’s quite potent. To stay true to its humble Provencal roots, I use very inexpensive vodka and dry white wine. I’ve even made it with wine from a box—with excellent results!

Up until a few years ago, white peaches and nectarines were an oddity in America and finding them was nearly impossible. Happily, they’ve now become fairly common, and you can spot them in grocery stores and farmers’ markets across the land. Their flavor is not as intense as their yellow counterparts, but their delicacy is part of their appeal. Also appealing is how when white nectarines are cooked with their skins and then puréed, the finished mixture is an ivory hue with a faint touch of rosy pink. I came up with this dessert when I was the pastry chef at Monsoon, an Asian restaurant run by Bruce Cost, one of the best cooks I’ve ever met in my life. Unlike American dinners, most Asian meals don’t end with a full-on dessert. So my challenge was to create desserts that customers would find appealing enough to order after sharing spicy, authentic, and sometimes challenging fare—like the turtle soup served with raw turtle eggs floating on the surface, or the sea slugs that tasted (slightly) better than they looked. I had to make sure the desserts would bring people back from whatever culinary precipice we took them to. This fruit sorbet, resting in a five-spice cookie cup and served with berries steeped in sweet plum wine, was the perfect landing pad.

These light, lean soufflés get their lively flavor from the intensity of readily available dried apricots, so this dessert offers the added bonus that it can be made all year. It’s imperative to use the highly flavorful dried apricots from California rather than imported varieties, which are bland and uninspiring. You won’t be disappointed.

This aromatic, brothy soup celebrates the spring arrival of fresh bok choy, a favorite Asian green vegetable. This is an excellent way to whet the appetite for an Asian-style vegetable stir-fry with rice or noodles.

This is a good transitional soup for spring; it’s hearty like winter soups, but boasts the fresh flavors of zucchini, parsley, and dill. Taste often to adjust the myriad of flavors to your liking. Consider making any of the muffins on pages 149 to 151 to serve with the soup.