Shallot

Please try this recipe. Nothing would make me happier than to see more dedicated home cooks in this country cooking rabbit. And for those of you just starting to cook, you really should make use of this delicious and healthful meat. It’s always been an important food on our family table. When I was a child, in our town of Busoler, every family had a pen of rabbits—including my namesake Aunt Lidia, my mother’s sister—and even as I gathered grass to feed them and played with them, I understood how important it was to nourish them, so they would nourish us. Today, though, while rabbit dishes are popular in my restaurants, especially as a pasta condiment, I notice that customers still regard rabbit as a fancy and different food, especially the saddle (the loin section) of rabbit. The truth is, rabbit is easy to cook and is as versatile and tasty as chicken. Here, then, is a typical rabbit dish from my kitchen, which I still prepare often for family dinners. I always buy whole rabbits and cut them up myself, as I demonstrate in the photos alongside. Like poultry, rabbit is easy to divide. Let the joints show you where to cut off the meaty leg pieces. The back pieces are easy to chop with a sturdy chef’s knife or a small cleaver. If you prefer, though, ask your butcher to cut up the rabbit into eight or ten pieces for you. I am sure you’ll love this cacciatore (hunter’s-style) rabbit. During the first 40 minutes, the cooking is purposely slow and relaxed, as the meat gradually caramelizes with herbs, fresh peppers, and other vegetables and seasonings. Add these as you prepare them—you don’t need to rush. Once you’ve developed many layers of flavor, you pour in some broth, cover the pan, and let the rabbit braise for another 20 minutes.

GINA Roasting the shallot gives it a deep, sweet flavor, and the lemon zest lightens the whole thing up. This butter would also be an excellent topping for fish or chicken.

There is nothing like a rib eye: it is the most flavorful steak you can buy. The thin streams of fat running through this cut of steak create outstanding flavor. You’ll only need to season this with salt and pepper, because we’re going to make a shallot-and-herb butter to slap on top of this baby once it’s off the grill. As with any good steak, let this one rest for a few minutes before digging in. It will be moist and tender.

This salad is a stellar addition to a midwinter antipasto plate, full of bright flavors that seem to hint at warmer days ahead. In the short, dark days of a Seattle January, that’s especially welcome. Because of the salad’s simplicity, it’s important to use the heaviest, sweetest oranges you can find and use a firm, briny olive. Arbequinas or Gaetas are fine substitutes for the Taggiascas; mushy supermarket Kalamatas are not. Serve the salad shortly after you prepare it. As it sits, the flavor of the shallot continues to develop and the lovely balance of the salad is lost.

Carolina Gold rice, a fat, golden-hued, long-grained variety native to South Carolina, is so flavorful that only simple preparations are required. It is excellent in its most basic form, cooked in water with just a little salt and pepper, but for special occasions I opt for this gently embellished preparation.

Roasted fillet of beef was a standard at my mom’s house during the holidays, and I always crave it when the weather turns crisp. When I make it, I start the meat on the grill for extra flavor and finish it in the oven, where it cooks more evenly and comes out juicy and tender. It’s a no-fail method that ensures a perfectly cooked fillet every time.

Here’s a tried-and-true winter roast, with a straightforward (and quick) preparation and a side of potatoes. You need only green beans to create a complete meal, but if you want to add another side dish, try the Swiss chard on page 249.

If you prefer, you can replace the white wine with an equal amount of apple cider. To prevent peeled apples from turning brown, place them in a bowl of cold water mixed with the juice of one lemon.

For a break from roast chicken, try these smaller hens, which cook in about half the time it takes for a chicken. If you like, substitute four bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts (10 to 12 ounces each) for the Cornish hens.

Add a slice of toast topped with melted cheese, and you have a light dinner or lunch. This recipe makes enough soup for eight people, but you can easily freeze the leftovers if serving fewer (directions for freezing are below).

Shrimp can be paired with strong flavors—in this case, a tangy and sweet tamarind sauce with a touch of heat—and still retain their briny character. The tartness of the tropical pod comes through in the sauce, but it is balanced by the other seasonings, just as it is in a well-prepared Indian tamarind chutney. These shrimp are at home with a bowl of rice for soaking up the sauce, but they also make an interesting cross-cultural hand roll tucked into a warm corn tortilla and eaten like a taco. As long as you have frozen cubes of tamarind liquid on hand, this recipe is quick to prepare.

These terrific shallot slices are like bacon bits—a garnish for when you want to add final rich notes. For them to turn out well, you must first remove all the excess moisture from the fresh shallots. Many Viet cooks skip that step and fry up presliced dehydrated shallot. Sold at Chinese and Vietnamese markets, the time-saving alternative sadly lacks flavor and depth, much like the difference between onion soup made from scratch and a packaged mix. However, they are convenient and inexpensive, which perhaps explains why hành phi are sometimes overused to embellish food. I am a traditionalist when it comes to this garnish. I prepare it the day I need it so that it stays crisp, and I always start with fresh shallots to capture their subtle sweetness. I especially like them sprinkled on bánh cuon (steamed rice crepe rolls, page 270) and xôi bap (sticky rice with hominy, page 247).

Imagine my mom’s delight when she first spotted canned hominy at American markets (and later, hulled mung beans). Gone were the days when she had to soak and treat dried corn kernels with slaked lime before cooking them to prepare this treat. She also had to soak and skin unhulled mung beans before she could steam and grind them. By the time this dish appeared at the table, nearly two days had passed. But it was all worth it: the rice and hominy formed a chewy, soft base for the buttery yellow mung beans, toasted sesame seeds, and fried shallots. Serve this sticky rice dish alone or with slices of Viet sausages or roasted chicken, duck, or pork.

Lovely to look at, these rosy shallots are also wonderful to eat. Their delightful tanginess and mild bite cut the richness of foods like beef or pork kho and Viet sausages, headcheese, or pâté. They are also good in a Western salad or sandwich. Tipplers might even try a few in a gin on the rocks. These shallots are a must for Tet celebrations. In fact, there is a traditional Tet couplet that includes dua hânh as one of the required foods for the holiday. My family doesn’t wait for the Lunar New Year to eat them, however. My mom and I make them year-round, using this recipe from my late aunt, Bac Dao. A widow most of her life, she often prepared large batches of various foods and divided them up among her family and friends. These shallots were usually among her gifts. Use small shallots (sold at Asian markets in red plastic net bags, each weighing about a pound) that are firm and without sprouts or mold. If shallots aren’t available, substitute red pearl onions (sold at most supermarkets).