Wine

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.

I can’t resist a piece of calf’s liver when I see it—all too infrequently—in the meat counter. It’s even better if you get it from a considerate butcher who will cut an even-sized 1/4-inch slice and spare you the finicky job of removing the outside membrane. Liver in a winey sauce is particularly good on a cold winter night; somehow I always feel my red corpuscles are strengthened by its rich meatiness. I like it with some potatoes alongside. If you have a couple of cooked potatoes, you can brown them in a little butter while the liver cooks, or if you don’t have them on hand, try grating a medium raw potato through the coarse holes of a grinder and make a quick potato pancake.

This is something I’m tempted to make when my supply of rich beef broth is low. But maybe that’s an excuse. The truth is, I love eating these cuts, spooning out the marrow from the shank, and, in the second dish, sucking off meat from the little tail bones. It’s nice, messy eating, perhaps best enjoyed alone with a kitchen towel around one’s neck. I usually still have some meat left after lapping up these two dishes—just enough to make myself a pasta on a night when I want a quick supper. Then there’s the treasure of the rich beef broth to put away.

This is my favorite steak. I like the chewiness of the cut and the faint marbling of fat, just enough to keep it well lubricated. And I find it a good size for the single cook. A skirt steak of approximately 14 ounces gives me three fine meals. First I have a piece of rare steak quickly sautéed and garnished with a little pan sauce of wine and shallots; then I have a few slices of it cold for lunch with a piquant sauce; and finally, later in the week, I’ll use what remains in a delicious baked dish with mushrooms and breadcrumbs, an inspiration of the late Mireille Johnston, whose books taught us so much of what regional French home cooking is all about—thriftiness, inventiveness, and good taste.

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!

The Queens go “coo-coo” for Coq au Vin, a classic French dish of chicken cooked in red wine. An elegant but simple recipe, it’s a great entry point to the world of French cuisine, which is often less complicated than it seems. Since this chicken dish has a decadent sauce, we love serving it in a shallow soup bowl over buttered egg noodles that have been tossed with chopped fresh parsley. We also garnish the rest of the plate with parsley, as the bright green pops against the red wine sauce. So pretty and so tasty!

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.

This delicious, classic dish from the Burgundy region of France is designed to showcase the wines for which the area is famous. (We like anything that celebrates wine. Oui, oui!) Beef Burgundy can appear at first glance as a mere stew, but those of us who have had the pleasure of making this dish know that during the hours it slowly cooks in the oven something magical happens. The flavors of the broth are intensified by the wine, and it thickens into a velvety smooth sauce. Once finished, the cuts of beef are so tender they almost seem to melt. Traditionally, Beef Burgundy is made with wine from the French province of Burgundy. If you have trouble finding a true Burgundy (they can be pretty pricy!), the best substitutes are Pinot Noirs from California or Oregon. We suggest serving this over our Perfect Rice Every Time (page 195) and with our Rockin’ Tomatoes Rockefeller (page 139).

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.

This is a super-yummy cake that you can whip together easily once you’ve got your mise en place under control. Start by preparing all your apples at once—then just break off what you need to sauté for the cake first, and put the ones for the topping in a bowl off to the side. After you’ve grated the lemon zest for the cake, squeeze the juice from the lemon and toss it with the reserved apples for the topping—this adds flavor and keeps them from turning brown while you make the cake. If you really have it together, you can make the topping ahead of time and keep it in the fridge until you’re ready to serve the cake. You don’t even have to serve the topping warm, but I think it’s really special this way. Got leftovers? This topping is great over ice cream, on pancakes, or, of course, on second helpings of cake!

Baby arties are much easier to prepare than big ones and you don’t end up with nearly as much waste. They’re a perfect side when they’re in season—they go beautifully with meat or fish and just scream springtime. Whenever I tell people I’m making artichokes they go, “Ohhh! Artichokes!!!” They just sound exciting.

When I was working in Tuscany I made this dish every day. It’s a traditional osso bucco, but instead of using cross-sections, it uses the whole shank. I love it this way—big and meaty—but if you want to make these into individual portions, have the butcher cut the shanks into cross-sections for you. Because it’s a basic braise, you get started the way you would with any braise—by browning the meat really well and then browning the veggies. The big difference here is I’ve added apples to the soffritto for a little something special. SWEET!