Rice

In Spain, the native land of paella, this classic dish is often prepared over a live fire. Georgeanne Brennan and I adapted this recipe from The Mediterranean Herb Cookbook on a wood-fired grill at her home, using onions, garlic, peas, and fresh herbs from her garden. You can use fresh or frozen calamari. The quality of the ham and chorizo is very important, so shop for the recommended types. If you can’t find them in your local store, shop online at The Spanish Table or La Tienda (see Resources). One of the secrets to this dish is that the herbs are added in layers. The second secret is to cook it over a wood fire!

Min was first encouraged to make this dish when her fridge was jammed with leftover grilled corn on the cob. We liked this salad so much that now she doesn’t wait for a summer corn surplus—she cheats with a bag of niblets from the freezer. Frozen white shoepeg corn and frozen baby peas are two of Min’s constant freezer staples for ultraquick sides.

Riso nero—black rice—is the dramatic name for a nursery dish offered to children as a light supper or as a sweet after a bit of broth or soup. It is most often just made with rice poached in milk that has been scented with cinnamon and mixed with a few shards of chocolate, the latter giving the dish its name as it melts and turns the rice a deep, dark color. Surely there are lovely similarities between it and pasta in nero della consolazione (page 118). Here I offer its comfort in a more adult version. The same prescriptions apply, though, as this is best presented after a light, reviving soup or, better, after no soup at all, so one can justify slipping one’s fork into the spiced, chocolate depths of a second or third piece of the sweet little pie.

Braised meats are ideal for any large gathering because much of the work can be done the day before. In my opinion, braises actually taste better when the flavors have had time to meld and develop. And in the braising process, not only have you cooked the meat, you’ve also created a sauce. Osso buco is a classic braised dish of northern Italy, usually garnished with gremolata, a popular condiment made of minced lemon zest, parsley, and garlic. That’s fine in the winter, but in spring, I like to add two of my favorite spring ingredients: peas and pea shoots. It’s a brighter rendition of the traditional preparation. The risotto, perfumed with saffron, is the perfect starch for spooning up with the braising juices. I’m usually pro-cheese, but in the case of this risotto I find myself torn. Though the Parmesan gives the risotto richness, without it the dish is a little lighter and “more of the season.” You decide.

People think risotto is a super-rich dish, made with tons of butter. But when it is made properly, the richness comes from the starchy rice and the stock. To make perfect risotto, really pay attention to what’s happening in the pan. As the risotto cooks, stir it with a wooden spoon in rhythmic movements that go across the bottom and around the sides of the pan. The rice should be constantly bubbling, drinking up the liquid as it cooks.

Shell beans are a big part of late summer and early fall in our kitchen. If you happen to come by Lucques on a slow night when they’re in season, you’ll see runners, cooks, and dishwashers gathered around huge piles of shell beans, shucking, shucking, shucking. For me, shucking provides a much-needed period when my hands can do the work and my brain takes a little time off. Don’t worry, shell beans for six won’t require a crew of shuckers.

This dish was inspired by an old Julia Child recipe that my mom used to make when I was a kid. Lots of stewed onions are bound with a tiny bit of Arborio rice, like a very loose risotto in which the onion, rather than the rice, is the key player. Finished with Gruyère and a touch of cream, it’s great with grilled lamb, rabbit, and even braised beef.

This grilled pork confit evolved one night when I was making a staff meal at Lucques. I salvaged the leftover ends and trimmings from the day’s pork confit, crisped them in my favorite cast-iron pan, and ran to the walk-in to see what produce I could find to add to the dish. When I got back to the stove, I noticed half the meat was missing. Looking around, I saw that all the cooks had their heads down, suspiciously quiet. Half of my staff meal had disappeared, but I couldn’t be angry. Who can resist succulent pork, hot and crispy, out of the pan? Something so irresistible deserved to be shared with the outside world, so I put this staff meal on the menu!

To make this exotic green rice, simmer basmati rice in a broth of mint, chives, parsley, and cilantro perfumed with sautéed red onion, fennel, and fennel seeds. When you prepare the herbs, don’t waste too much time on fastidious herb-picking. They all get puréed into an emerald green broth, so no one will ever know if you cheated a little and left some of the stems on.