European

A salad of many ingredients, either all tossed together or dressed separately and arranged on a plate, is called a “composed” salad. A composed salad such as the Greek salad that follows is a hearty dish; with some crusty bread, it could be the main event of a dinner on a warm night. Or, a composed salad might be a delicate arrangement of, say, a few pieces of crabmeat, some grapefruit sections, and a little curly endive in a creamy dressing, served as an elegant first course. Almost anything can be an element in a composed salad: all the various lettuces and salad greens, of course, but also raw or cooked vegetables, chopped, diced, or cut into thin shavings; roasted meats cut into cubes or thin slices; tuna and other fish or shellfish; and hard-cooked eggs, quartered or chopped. Tasty leftovers can be delicious in a composed salad. Don’t combine too many ingredients into a single salad or it will have too many conflicting flavors. The components should be chosen thoughtfully with regard to the tastes and textures they contribute, and the dressing must complement them all. Sometimes a vinaigrette works best, when a tangy sauce is needed; sometimes mayonnaise, for mellow richness; at other times, a creamy sauce. A potato salad, for example, can be made with any of these dressings, and each will yield a distinctly different salad. When dressing a composed salad that includes both tender lettuces and heavier ingredients such as artichoke hearts or pieces of fruit, dress all the heavier elements separately and arrange them around the tossed lettuces on a platter. Otherwise the salad is hard to serve because everything ends up at the bottom and the leaves get crushed. Even salads that have no lettuce should be assembled carefully. What’s most important is that each ingredient be tasty on its own. Taste everything and season each element with a little salt or dressing as needed before adding it to the whole. When things are tossed together, don’t overmix, or the parts will start to lose their distinctiveness, muddying the flavors and spoiling the look of the salad. (You can always arrange a salad and drizzle vinaigrette over it, or even pass the vinaigrette in a pitcher.) As for what to include in such a salad and how to dress it, taste each ingredient before you decide. That is really the only rule you must follow, and while it may sound frustratingly vague, as you acquire a little salad-making experience, you’ll begin to recognize and remember the flavors you like and the ones that you like together.

Salsa verde, the classic green sauce of Italy, is a sauce of olive oil and chopped parsley flavored with lemon zest, garlic, and capers. It adds lively freshness to almost any simple dish. Flat-leaved Italian parsley is preferable, but curly parsley is good, too. Fresh parsley—the fresher the better—is the majority herb, but almost any other fresh, tender herb can enhance a salsa verde: tarragon, chervil, and chives are good choices. Use a sharp knife when you chop parsley (and other herbs). A sharp knife slices cleanly through the leaves, preserving both flavor and color, while a dull knife mashes and bruises them. The zest is the thin yellow outer layer of the lemon’s skin; avoid grating any of the bitter white part (called the pith) beneath. The zest brightens the flavor of the sauce, so don’t be shy with it; you may need more than one lemon’s worth. Don’t hesitate to experiment. I make salsa verde more or less thick depending on what I am using it for. I tend to use less oil when it’s for roasted meats and grilled vegetables and more for fish.

Velvety, luscious, garlicky mayonnaise—what the French call aïoli (pronounced eye-oh-lee)—is another sauce I use all the time: on sandwiches; with vegetables, both raw and cooked; with meat and fish; as the binder for chicken salad and egg salad; and as a base for sauces such as tartar sauce. Most children, even very young ones, love aïoli and will happily use it as a dip for bite after bite of bread, carrots, potatoes, and even vegetables they might otherwise refuse. Two or three small cloves of garlic per egg yolk, pounded with a mortar and pestle, make a fairly pungent garlic mayonnaise—depending on the garlic. The strength of garlic’s flavor can vary a lot, depending on freshness, season, and variety. I always pound the garlic in a mortar and pestle and reserve half of it, so I can add it later if the aïoli needs it. (You can always add more garlic, but you can’t subtract it.) It’s important to pound the garlic to a very smooth purée so the sauce will be garlicky through and through, not just a mayonnaise with bits of garlic in it. One egg yolk will absorb up to one cup of oil, but you can add less if you don’t need that much mayonnaise. Whisk the oil in drop by drop at first, adding more as you go. It is much easier to whisk when the bowl is steadied. To help hold it still, set it on top of a coiled dish towel. Adding a small amount of water to the egg yolk before you incorporate the oil helps prevent the sauce from separating or “breaking.” If mayonnaise does separate, stop adding oil, but don’t despair. Just crack a fresh egg, separate the yolk into a new bowl, add a little water as before, and slowly whisk in first the broken sauce and then the rest of the oil. Make aïoli half an hour ahead of time, to give the flavors a chance to marry. As with anything made with raw eggs, if you’re not going to serve mayonnaise within an hour, refrigerate it. Aïoli tastes best the day it’s made.

Italian meringue is a firm cooked meringue made with boiling sugar syrup. It can be used alone as a frosting, or I sometimes pipe it into rosettes and dry them out in a low oven for tasty treats. Use a candy thermometer to make sure the sugar syrup reaches 235°F. By adding the hot syrup to the egg whites while whipping, you’ll be cooking them to approximately 140°F, the pasteurization temperature for eggs.

Dates were always around the house for snacking when I was a kid. Now I absolutely love to use them in both sweet and savory dishes. Large, dark-skinned Medjool dates are grown in the United States, Jordan, Israel, and now in Baja! I think they add a whole new dimension to an otherwise classic crème brûlée.

My very close friend and colleague Elsa Flores, a Baja pastry chef, shared this recipe with me. It’s a wonderful fusion of one very Mexican ingredient, amaranth, with one very French dessert, macaroons. Be sure to let the raw macaroons rest after they are piped. This will dry out the tops and will result in a shinier and perfectly puffed macaroon.

Traditional basil pesto gets a run for its money with this bright, flavorful Mexican version of the Italian original. Cilantro pesto is best on cold pasta salads and is great as a topping on grilled chicken or fish.

My dad, Antonio (a.k.a. Tony), inspired this dish. Like a painter’s body of work, his culinary life is marked by distinct periods. When he went through an osso buco period, I decided that if I was going to be making a lot of osso buco, it was going to be a Mexican osso buco, spiked with lime, chiles, cilantro, and garlic.

This smoky rub has endless possibilities: sprinkle it on potatoes before roasting, rub it on chicken breasts before grilling, or use it to season steaks before searing or halibut before roasting. For a garnish, mix a couple of tablespoons of this spice mix with half a cup of crème fraîche and drizzle it over soups.

Leftover caponata will keep, covered in the refrigerator, for up to a week. Toss with warm pasta; serve on top of meat, chicken, or fish; or simply serve it with some toasted bread or crostini.

If your only impression of a zeppole was formed at a street fair, where they are served hot out of the oil and dusted with powdered sugar, prepare to have your socks knocked off. With these you get your doughnut and coffee all in one delectable bite.

An Italian brunch wouldn’t be complete without a pasta dish. Campanelle pasta is named for the church bells it resembles, and the nooks and crannies are great for trapping sauce, making every bite delicious. If you can’t find campanelle, any small shaped pasta will do. There are lots of bold flavors in this pasta salad, the base of which is canned tuna. Although it’s definitely more caloric, tuna packed in olive oil rather than water gives the salad a much fuller, richer flavor.

I have a big pet peeve with most egg salads: too many are loaded with mayo, which ruins their texture and makes them bland. My version still has a little mayo, but I add mild Gorgonzola and lemon zest, which not only brings a classic Italian flavor and freshness to the sandwich but also keeps the salad moist. Crispy pancetta makes this recipe brunch-worthy, and while you can certainly substitute bacon, it’s a lot less Italian that way.

Frittatas are the perfect centerpiece for a brunch spread because they can be served warm or at room temperature. This one brings two classic brunch favorites—lox and eggs—together into one very attractive dish. Serving bagels on the side, though decidedly not Italian, is a nice option.

I’ve given an American Southern staple an Italian spin with the addition of Parmesan. The cornmeal makes these biscuits sturdy enough to pack on a picnic, and you can stuff them with smoked salmon (my fave), sliced turkey or ham, or even grilled veggies. Hot out of the oven, they are pretty terrific with just a bit of lemon butter.

Caffè latte is classic Italian, and for a Sunday brunch it would be the obvious choice over a regular pot of coffee. And while vanilla whipped cream is a small departure from the way you would find it served in any Italian café, it’s a nice way to make the jolt of caffeine a little richer and more special.

Limoncello is a tart and refreshing lemon liqueur reminiscent of hot summer days on the island of Capri. The bright yellow and deep blue colors make this cooler lovely to serve at a summer party; make it by the pitcherful and serve over ice in tall, skinny glasses so you can see the buoyant blueberries float.

Mascarpone cheese gives this dessert a smooth, creamy texture, making it more like a sherbet than an ordinary granita. Best of all, you don’t need to scrape it as it freezes to create icy granules, so it’s truly a snap to make. Serve it with tiny glasses of limoncello for a perfect summer dessert.

Only the mascarpone and the ladyfingers in this lemony dessert give a nod to a traditional tiramisù, but my California spin on this beloved dessert is just as addictive. I think lemon makes everything taste a bit lighter (so I can eat more without feeling weighed down!), and the hazelnuts add a delicate flavor and lots of crunch. So while no one will mistake this for the original, I promise it will make anyone you serve it to very, very happy.