Root Vegetable

The delicate, herbaceous quality of preserved garlic adds a bit of bite where raw garlic would be too harsh and overwhelm more subtle flavors, such as the lobster mushroom recipe on page 119. Make sure you use a peeler to zest the lemon. Using a grater or Microplane would release too many oils and create too strong a flavor. As a bonus, use the oil in vinaigrettes or drizzle on grilled fish.

If you master any one recipe in this book, this should be it. Not only does a bright, fresh tomato sauce turn any freshly made pasta into an event, but it’s also an indispensable component in dishes from basic ragus to Maloreddus with Squid, Tomato Sauce, and Lemon (page 97) and Linguine with Shrimp (page 90). Part of the fun of making your own sauce is squishing the whole tomatoes—and they must be San Marzanos—with your fingers. It can get messy, especially for those of us who wear glasses, but it’s worth it (and a good stress-reduction technique, to boot). Find an apron and get ready for a simple, well-balanced sauce that you’ll always want to have on hand. And when you can have this sauce ready in under an hour, why ever open a jar again?

Mackerel is a rich fish with fabulous texture and depth of flavor. Though it’s not traditional, preserved lemon adds a piquant, salty touch to a rustic pounded sauce. To make sure the potatoes are crispy when you serve the dish, grill the fish first and fry the potatoes right before serving. Parboiling the potatoes makes it easy to get them crispy, while ensuring they’re cooked through.

Although these savory, salty little bundles are a little too fat to truly resemble cigars, rolling the crabs in the prosciutto does employ a technique used by skilled workers in Cuba. It might also seem familiar to you if you’ve ever hand-rolled anything in papers. For directions on cleaning the soft-shell crabs, see page 32. Make sure you go easy on the salt in this dish because the prosciutto already contains plenty.

I love it when the first bunches of springtime sorrel appear in the market. It has a fantastic sour, lemony-mint thing going on that does something great for clams. The only drawback is that when you cook sorrel, it turns the worst color of brown. Sprinkle it on the dish at the last minute for the best flavor and look. Please try to find guanciale for this dish—it has a delightful fattiness to it that can’t really be replicated. If you can’t find guanciale, use bacon or pancetta instead. Everyone thinks clams have to be cooked over high heat. It’s not necessary in order for the clams to open, and it can render them tough if not done carefully.

This beautiful fall dish is a study in silken textures, from the velvety purée to the creamy interior of the ivory scallops. Quick searing gives the scallops a crispy, caramelized exterior that is well matched to the sweetness of the pear in the purée, while the chanterelles add texture, depth, and a luscious, buttery flavor. Although there are three separate parts to this recipe, it’s still relatively straightforward to prepare. Make the purée first, then hold it at room temperature; the searing and sautéing take no more than five minutes.

At once light and intensely flavorful, poaching with aromatics is a wonderful treatment for black bass. Here, I use spring garlic and onions, but the recipe is easily adaptable to other times of the year. Make sure you use some member of the onion family for flavor; in winter, add shaved radish, fennel . . . use your imagination. This dish goes quickly if you have your fishmonger do the work for you; just ask for the trimmings to take home for making the fumet.

Although skate “wing” might sound exotic, skate is nothing more than a kissing cousin to sharks, as well as a delicious fish with delicately flavored, sweet white meat. It’s more prevalent on the East Coast; out West, you will probably need to ask your fishmonger to order it for you. Weighting the skate while it cooks keeps it from curling, making for even cooking and a nicer presentation. Be careful when you add the wine to the brown butter, because the mixture will bubble up and spit a little.

It’s spring in Seattle—that means fresh, tender peas, the first succulent morels, and firm, snowy halibut begging to swim around in a bowl with all that other goodness. For a little bite, I add some shaved Cincinnati radish—a long, mild radish that looks like a baby carrot. This is a lovely dish that puts me in mind of longer, warmer days.

Fluke—often called “summer flounder” on the East Coast or hirame in Japan—is an extremely light and delicate fish. Because of its mild flavor, I like to pair it with this citrus relish, complementing, but not overpowering, the fish’s characteristics. For the baby leaves, you can use arugula, Italian parsley, microgreens, or whatever you can find and like. Feel free to vary the citrus in the relish as well, experimenting with grapefruit, blood oranges, or sweet Cara Cara oranges in the winter. Because fluke cooks so quickly, have your relish ready before you begin the fish. To make sure you get a nice crispy exterior on the fillets, use two sauté pans if necessary. Crowding the pan will cause the fish to steam instead of sear.

This is a dish to transport you to the Italian Riviera—the freshest sardines, simply grilled, splashed with lemon, briny olives, and the sweet anise flavor of the season’s first fennel. This is also finger food, so get out a big stack of napkins and don’t eat them with those who are excessively dainty. They don’t deserve them anyway. It would play into the whole relaxed-by-the-sea thing if you have your fishmonger scale and clean the sardines.

A 3-pound T-bone makes a pretty fantastic, nearly Flintstonian presentation when you bring it to the table, marked from the grill. If you can, use your charcoal grill for this one—you’ve just spent a tidy sum on this gorgeous hunk of meat, why not give it the best flavor? Think of this as slow roasting—you’re not cooking a hamburger here. A 3-pound steak gives you about 2 pounds of meat, 1/2 pound per person if you’re feeding four. That’s a good bit of steak, but somehow I don’t think you’ll have leftovers. The creamy Controne bean is known as the “no-soak” bean because it lacks a hard skin. You could also use marrow or cannellini, both of which will require soaking, but try seeking out Controne beans in Italian markets.

Save this recipe for late February, when spring garlic first appears in markets. For this dish, it’s best to use larger heads, planning on one large or two small heads per serving. Piecing out the squab makes for much easier eating and allows you to cook the different parts perfectly, with the added bonus that the wings and body add incredible depth and flavor to the sauce. If you think your knife skills aren’t up to par, you can ask your butcher to do it for you, but be sure to reserve all the pieces. If your guests are big eaters, you might want to double the recipe to allow for one squab per person and serve as an entrée. Lentils would make a nice side.

This is a very rustic dish, the meat and potatoes redolent with rosemary and garlic and bathed in butter and pork fat. But as rich as all of that sounds, the best part might be the front legs that end up crispy and delicious; as you gnaw the bones, you’ll be reminded more than a little of fried chicken, and that’s never a bad thing. I portion out the rabbit so that the darker pieces get a little more cooking and the loin receives nothing more than a quick sear. As with Braised Rabbit Paws with Radiatore (page 89), make sure you ask the butcher for the smaller and more tender fryers, not roasters.

Veal cheeks make the most delicate braise. Using a combination of water and wine for the braising liquid allows the sweet, subtle taste of the veal to really shine through. As a side, you need nothing more than the spring’s first ramps and some gorgeous porcini, kissed by the grill. Some years, it just so happens that the ramp season runs long, or perhaps the porcini season starts early, or both. When the two magically coincide, some amazing things happen. Using foil as insulation for the delicate ramp tops gives the vegetables a simple char on the grill. The veal needs time to become fork-tender, a few hours in all, so plan accordingly.

After a rugged weekend of deer hunting, this is the dish I celebrate with . . . okay, not really. I buy farmed venison, just as you will. The nice thing, other than not having to don your camo and risk getting ticks, is that farmed venison is less intense than wild deer meat, with a rich, sophisticated flavor that is perfectly accented with a simple agrodolce. Forget about beef tenderloin and serve this instead—I promise the luscious texture and wild essence will win you over. As with tenderloin, though, make sure you serve the venison rare.

The much-maligned mélange gets its name from the undeserved yet pervasive bad reps held by each of the three principal ingredients in this delectable side: turnips, Brussels sprouts, and chestnuts. But I guarantee you’ll find that baby turnips are sweet and juicy and bear no resemblance to the bitter root vegetable you think you know. Gently sautéing wedges of fresh Brussels sprouts renders them crisp-tender and nutty, while browning chestnuts in a cast-iron pan makes removing their skins a snap, giving you unfettered access to the earthiness inside. Pork jowls, as the name implies, are pig cheeks. When cured, jowls become guanciale; braised, they offer amazing versatility and can then be sautéed, grilled, or added to soups. Like pork belly, jowls have tons of flavor and are very rich. I find that braising helps tame them a bit and makes the cut a little less intense. You’ll probably need to special order this cut from your butcher, but it’s worth it. You’ll need to start this recipe one day ahead.

Many recipes that pair carrots with orange call for cooking the carrots with orange juice. Here, I use strips of peel instead, so that you get just a hint of orange, keeping the flavors bright. In the restaurants, we use Thumbelina carrots, a cute, round variety with incredible sweetness. Don’t go crazy chopping the mint—you don’t want to turn it into paste. Just do a few quick strokes with the knife, toss with the carrots, and serve right away. You might want to caution your guests not to eat the orange peel.