Vegan

The bay tree at La Varenne is a monster, more than twenty feet tall. There’s a niche or cubbyhole on one side, the side that everyone approaches to cut fresh leaves for classes. I implore my students to discard the jars of brown, tasteless dried bay leaves in their pantries: even a semi-fresh bay leaf several weeks old from the fridge will have more flavor.

Fresh and colorful, this salad is a far cry from the concoction made with canned green beans and pinto beans. Wax beans are a yellow version of the snap bean. They remain pale yellow once cooked and are a nice color contrast to the green beans and red tomatoes.

Summer is unthinkable without watermelon. As children, my sister and I would stand for what seemed like hours on the back steps and eat and eat and eat chilled wedges of homegrown watermelon. The seed-spitting contests were fierce. As we were often barefoot and playing in the dirt, the watermelon juice served as an adhesive for a fine dusting of red Georgia clay. We would get so sticky and messy, we were barred from the house until we’d washed off with the hose. And, if we didn’t do a good job, Meme was more than happy to help. This watermelon salad is decidedly grown-up enough to eat indoors (barring any seed-spitting challenges). Spiking watermelon with vodka is an old trick, but the crème de cassis—a Burgundian liqueur made from black currants—elevates this to the extraordinary.

Here is my version of a recipe taught by Anne Willan. Her version uses small cherry tomatoes, which are scored, blanched, and peeled. The combination is incredible, as the peeled tomatoes soak up the flavorful vinaigrette and explode in your mouth. However, the number of people I would peel cherry tomatoes for is fairly limited. The wine may seem a little surprising, but tomatoes contain alcohol-soluble flavors that can only be delivered to your taste receptors in the presence of alcohol. As the salad marinates, the tomatoes begin to exude their juices, so don’t make this more than 2 or 3 hours before serving. Serve this pretty combination in a butterhead lettuce cup with plenty of bread to soak up the juices.

Alain Passard is the chef-owner of the Parisian restaurant L’Arpège, awarded three Michelin stars, the highest possible rating from the most prestigious organization. He caused quite a stir when he “went vegetarian,” as he had come from the classic French tradition of cooking with meat stocks. This salad is inspired by a dish he created when he entered his veggie phase. This is well suited for cooks who grow their own herbs or are able to purchase good quality fresh herbs from their farmer’s market—otherwise, it can be somewhat costly at a traditional grocery store. Rinse the herbs under cold running water, then spin them dry in a salad spinner. Carefully remove the leaves from the stems (don’t cheat: use only the leaves, discard the stems). Use more herbs than lettuce. Nasturtiums (both leaves and flowers), cilantro, basil, and chervil are other herb suggestions.

My friend Shelly shared this recipe, her aunt Mimi’s, at a cookout one summer. It’s lighter and healthier than most, and since it is essentially vinegar and oil, it is safe to have on a buffet for hours.

We bought my grandmother a food processor, but she continued to use her hand-cranked shredder for grating. Made of cast aluminum, it was a sturdy beast that attached to the counter with a vise. She would peel the carrots and Dede would patiently shred them into a large bowl for carrot slaw. This recipe is a bit more complex in flavor and technique than Meme’s, and I use a food processor to shred the vegetables. Just make sure you shred the carrots first! To prevent the beets from staining the carrots when mixed in the salad, the key is to dress the beets before combining with the carrots. This seals in their red pigments (betalains), which don’t dissolve in oil.

I like to serve this salad with vinaigrette, as here, or lightly moistened with a dollop of homemade mayonnaise (page 282). (I seem to have some sort of primal need to combine tomatoes with mayonnaise.) The truth is, this salad really reminds me of how a plate of food looks toward the end of a summer meal when all the vegetables and flavors swim and mingle together. This salad can be served as is, in lettuce cups, or as a side dish for grilled or fried chicken. Regardless of how you serve it, all of the vegetables should be chopped approximately the same size so each bite is evenly mixed.

No holiday in our family would be complete without this refreshing fruit salad. My grand-father Dede would patiently grate the fresh coconut on a box grater, also put to use for the obligatory coconut cake. My sister, Jona, would sit, fidgeting, on the stool in the kitchen waiting for a sip of the coconut juice. Once the coconut was grated, Dede would peel and segment enough oranges to make gallons of this exquisite concoction. Although Dede did all the work (with a little help from Jona), I’ve named this dish for Meme, because she loved it and he made it for her. Use this simple recipe as the starting point for creating your own version. Always use fresh coconut, not flaked, canned, bagged, or frozen.

Southerners always seem to have candied and spiced pecans around to nibble on during the holidays. My grandmother always made sweet pecans crusted with egg whites and sugar, using the nuts she and my grandfather had collected in the fall. So this version, with extra-virgin olive oil and herbs, is a real departure for my family. Recipes such as this, with a short ingredients list, are completely determined by the quality of the ingredients. The shorter the list, the better the ingredients must be. Pecans are the star, but the choice of olive oil and salt is crucial to the success of the dish. Use the finest possible. This recipe is splendidly simple, just perfect with apéritifs and for cocktail parties.

Braised onions with raisins and almonds is a Spanish-inspired dish from the southwestern border of the United States. It makes a sweet topping for rice or side to any barbecued meat.

This dish takes a bit more prep time than your average throw-everything-in-a-pot slow cooker recipe, but it’s well worth it. This luscious ragù can be served as a side for grilled steak or lamb, as a topping for pasta or rice, or as an entrée with a green salad and crunchy bread.

This wonderful chutney can be used as an accompaniment for grilled lamb, rice pilaf, or even spicy pumpkin muffins.

The slow cooker is an excellent tool for making small batches of jams and preserves—just enough for a week’s worth of morning toast—without any fuss at all. You can use your stovetop recipes, just adjust for longer cooking times. Begin on low and end on high with the cover off, and plan on watching somewhat carefully for the last hour. Forsake the pectin and enjoy the spoonable texture of nothing but fruit.

Peanuts reached the American South through a rather circuitous route: Although they were first brought to the United States from Africa in the 1700s, they appear to have originated in South America. The Incas used peanuts in trade, and jars filled with them have been found in ancient Inca graves. This recipe, which may have first come from George Washington Carver’s pot, makes an unusual but surprisingly tasty soup.

Located in California’s San Joaquin Valley, the town of Gilroy is home to the annual Gilroy Garlic Festival. As the artichoke is celebrated in Castroville, so is garlic in Gilroy. Although garlic soups can be found in many countries (made with chicken broth and red wine in southern France and with saffron and sherry in Spain, to name a couple), the following is a simple California recipe that I have enjoyed for years. This makes a great lunch, served with a crusty loaf of bread, a good red wine, and a salad.

This is an incredibly flavorful paste that is simply made and keeps almost indefinitely in the refrigerator. It is also easily doubled, so you might as well make extra to rub on meats, chicken, and fish.

This recipe is an updated version of the classic cooked Mexican tomato sauce, which is made with vegetable purees and simmered on the stove. My version roasts the vegetables in the oven, allowing them to caramelize, before they are pureed. The result is a sauce with deep rich flavor and a hint of sweetness. If you don’t like heat, make sure to remove the seeds from the jalapeño!

This uncooked tomato sauce is a staple in the Mexican kitchen and is often served in small bowls and placed on tables as a condiment. It is a simple sauce to prepare, just be careful not to overprocess because it’s meant to be a rustic sauce with a coarse texture.

This recipe is commonly referred to as Pico de Gallo (rooster’s beak). I suppose it is because the ingredients are all chopped up as if they were broken up by a bird’s beak. It is one of my favorites since it is not only delicious but also low fuss. Don’t worry about chopping the vegetables into uniform sizes or shapes and certainly don’t feel compelled to measure any of the ingredients. This chunky sauce goes well with almost every Mexican dish and is the classic accompaniment to serve with tortilla chips.