White Wine

This classic stew, menestra de verduras, has many regional variations, and can be made with different vegetables according to season. Constant ingredients include potatoes, carrots, and green peas; artichokes are the most characteristic. Fresh artichokes are called for in traditional recipes, but using the canned variety simplifies the process.

You’ll love making and serving this earthy medley of colors, textures, and flavors on a rainy spring evening.

(A chunky mélange of rutabaga, carrots, potatoes, and parsnips with a hint of cheese) This hearty soup makes use of a couple of underused winter vegetables—parsnips and rutabaga—to great results. Make sure you have a good, sharp knife for cutting the rutabaga.

Both soothing and lively, thanks to the flavor of dill, this simple soup is one of my cold-weather favorites.

Elegant and richly flavored, this soup features almond butter as its base. Fresh whole-grain bread and a salad of tomatoes and mixed greens make excellent companions.

Jerusalem artichokes (sometimes marketed as “sunchokes”) are a hardy fall root vegetable. Their appealingly offbeat flavor and texture, something of a cross between potatoes and water chestnuts, will appeal to adventurous soup-makers. Barley or Rice Triangles (page 152) complement this soup nicely.

This recipe is 100 percent adaptable to whatever ingredients you have on hand. Try it with chicken pieces or strips, beef stew chunks, or turkey tenderloin (whole or in strips). I like to add some Brussels sprouts, yellow squash, any color bell pepper, or almost any vegetable found hiding in our fridge. After serving, be sure to scoop up all the sauce for maximum flavor. The complex flavor of this marinade, with hints of sweet and spice, lends an Asian tang with a tinge of heat. Adjust the chili sauce to your desired level of hotness. You can also use chopped fresh or canned chiles or even a teaspoon of red pepper flakes.

Jamie’s a fan of shrimp scampi, but Jack is not. Turns out they can both agree on this chicken version.

I’m sure every cook who loves Italian food has a special recipe for osso buco. But I’m not so sure that anyone has a recipe to serve one, because it’s not the sort of thing you make for just one person. But it’s simple to reduce. The crucial factor is the pot; you need that heavy 4-cup pot with its own lid, so that your shank piece just fits into it and the liquid level stays almost to the top of the meat while it is simmering. That way, you don’t require too much cooking liquid, and the flavor develops intensity. I sometimes make this on a Saturday afternoon, when an Italian opera is playing on the radio, and just hearing the singing and smelling the osso buco as it perks away on the stove heightens my anticipation of a lovely meal to come.

As a child, and well into adulthood, I was allergic to scallops. But little by little I got over it. It can happen; the body does change. So I’ve been making up for my years of deprivation and quite often treat myself to a full plate of carefully cooked sea scallops. I remember Julia Child emphasizing how important it was to use a large pan, so the scallops would have plenty of space to brown. And because they needed to cook over high heat, clarified butter was essential. We were once having lunch at an elegant French restaurant in New York, which will be nameless, and Julia ordered scallops. After her first bite, she put down her fork and proclaimed that the chef hadn’t used clarified butter. As she tucked away most of the flawed dish, she emphasized again the importance of using clarified butter when browning over high heat, although she did admit that most Americans aren’t going to take the trouble to clarify their own butter, and that it was okay for the home cook to use half butter and half light vegetable oil, which would temper the burning. I am always careful to watch the pan, as if Julia is still looking over my shoulder, whenever I make this dish.

This is ideal to make when you’ve bought too much watermelon.

Steamed mussels make a lovely dish to eat alone slowly, plucking the plump flesh from the shells as messily as you like and sopping up the heavenly liquor with chunks of French bread.

Make this simple shrimp dish often, but only recently did I discover how good it is served on a bed of farro (see page 190), which Lidia Bastianich introduced me to. It’s also delicious with rice, grits, or polenta. You’ll get a good two meals out of this amount.

I recently saw something labeled “Snapper Lake Victoria (Kenya) Farm Raised,” and it looked glistening and fresh through its plastic wrap. Because the slice, just under a pound, was rather plump and not firm-fleshed and fatty, I felt it would take well to braising with some vegetables. I happened to have about half of a small fennel in the vegetable bin, and some roasted red peppers (from a jar, another good standby item, or put away your own [see page 242]), so I decided to make a bed of those aromatics and, when they were cooked semi-soft, to tuck the fish in and let everything finish cooking together. It was particularly delicious with leftover cooked potatoes browned in duck fat.

This is a favorite dish of mine that I would make often when I lived in Paris in the late 1940s. I’ve learned to simplify it a bit and make relatively small portions. I am partial to leeks, no doubt because of my Welsh husband, who called them the poor man’s asparagus, and they marry particularly well with delicate veal.

French-food lovers, fear not the long list of steps and ingredients for this traditional dish. It’s easier than you think. Many of the ingredients are probably already in your pantry, and the rest can easily be found in your local grocery store. The key to great bouillabaisse is fresh seafood. We’re talking fresh-from-the-sea fresh, not Joe’s week-old specials. Nothing spoils a fish-based stew like subpar fish. Get to know the person at the fish counter and find out what’s fresh that day. In fact, ask to sniff the fish before they wrap it up for you—you want it to smell like the sea. Much like paella, this dish has very flexible ingredients. It’s part of the fun. Plus, you’ll be amazed at how quickly and easily it comes together. It’s time to start a French revolution—in your kitchen!

Put some lovin’ in your oven! This fabulous dish gets its rich flavor from slowly brazing the veal until the meat is so tender, it literally falls off the bone with the touch of your fork. As it cooks, the aromas of the fresh herbs, earthy vegetables, and wine fill the kitchen. In fact, you may have to keep yourself busy by reading this cookbook until the timer goes off , lest you dig in before it’s done. Seriously, if you have never tried osso bucco, this is your chance! It takes a little more time—and expense—to cook than other dishes, but it’s completely worth it. Traditionally osso bucco is served over risotto, but we like it best over a bed of mashed potatoes or cooked white rice. So go ahead and treat yourself, you deserve it. If you’re not keen on veal, you can use lamb instead.

It’s called a defining moment. For Madonna, it was “Everybody.” For Brad Pitt, it was Thelma and Louise. For us, well, it was our chicken pot pie that started it all. Now, we aren’t saying that we’re the next Madonna or Brad Pitt. But, in all honesty, you wouldn’t be reading this book if it weren’t for this recipe. As seen on Food Network’s Throwdown! with Bobby Flay, this signature dish is our claim to fame. It’s not just any old pot pie—oh, no. We took great care to bring this everyday comfort food to new gourmet heights. White wine, tarragon, and shallots are just some of the surprise ingredients tucked under a perfectly golden brown puff pastry. It’s the dish that made people sit up and take notice of us, and now it’s your turn to take the spotlight.