In case you were wondering (you’re probably not, actually, but I’m going to tell you anyway), this sauce is named after the Marquis de Béchamel. In Italian it’s called balsamella or besciamella. The original and full French version also involves steeping some onion and a bay leaf in milk for 30 minutes, to infuse the sauce with more flavor, but here’s an everyday approach. My simplified version is a snap to make and is perfect with my Baked Rigatoni with Béchamel Sauce (page 115). You could also use it the way you would hollandaise sauce.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Among the top tier of sauces is Indonesian satay sauce, because it is the embodiment of joy and life. In fact, this sauce is also trustworthy and highly respectful of whatever it comes into contact with—perhaps it is, in fact, the perfect friend?
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
I should address the awkward truth that I don’t use butter here but cream instead. You could, if you’re a stickler for tradition (and not a heretic like me), add a big slab of butter to the finished curry.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.
Put these out at a gathering, and we guarantee you’ll be hearing rave reviews for a long time.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.