5 Ingredients or Fewer

Lobster mushrooms are named for their gorgeous color and appear in Northwest markets from August through October. They have a delicate flavor and are very fine textured, making them a lovely addition to the plate. The preserved garlic ties the whole dish together, so don’t be tempted to substitute fresh. Not only would the taste be too harsh for this delicate mushroom, but you’d also miss the mellow richness the preserved garlic offers. If you can’t find lobster mushrooms, you can use other wild mushrooms such as chanterelles or hedgehogs, though the flavor will be different.

Cauliflower is another one of those vegetables that gets a bad rap. Yes, it’s in the cabbage family, and when the cauliflower is raw, the connection is easy to identify. Take a page from the Italians, then, who aren’t afraid of oil and know that giving some vegetables a dip in the fryer brings out their best characteristics. In this case, the cauliflower turns sweet and silken; add in some smoky shreds of ham hock and, well, you’ll be begging to eat cauliflower more often. Ask your butcher to split the ham hock for you; they have big saws for that very purpose. And don’t you dare throw away the liquid left over from boiling the ham hock. One bonus of this recipe is a soup waiting to happen.

Creamy, rich sea urchin roe—better known by sushi lovers as “uni”—makes one of the most extraordinary sauces for pasta that I know, exotic Italian comfort food. We serve different versions in the restaurants, but this is my favorite because it keeps the roe intact. The heat of the pasta “cooks” the roe and each sac is broken only by your fork, allowing you to control the richness of each bite. If you do not have access to live sea urchin, make sure the roe you buy is brightly colored and smells like the sea. For the very best flavor and texture, seek out small-production, artisanal pasta, available in Italian import shops and food stores.

When you pour out the polenta to chill, don’t worry about making it pretty. Do what we do at the restaurants and use a cookie or biscuit cutter to create even shapes, or cut out wedges or squares—use your imagination. Grilled or sautéed polenta makes an excellent accompaniment to meat, game, or poultry. Try a couple of disks nestled next to a pork chop, roasted chicken, or guinea hen. Firm polenta should be crispy outside, soft and creamy inside, like a good French fry. In short, everything you could want.

Adding the cornmeal to the water, and avoiding lumps, is the only challenging part of making good polenta. In the restaurants, we make it to order, and I vacillate between using fine and medium grinds, depending on the finished consistency I am looking for. The coarser polenta has more presence on the plate and such a deep corn flavor that I think it’s a good place to start. Of course, fine or “instant” polenta has the advantage of being quicker to make. Traditionally, polenta is made using a wooden spoon, though I use a whisk. If you don’t need or want this much polenta, you can halve the recipe with good results.

If you think you don’t like potato gnocchi, you’ve probably been subjected to some heavy, leaden mistakes. The good news is that it’s relatively easy to make your own, and following a few rules produces light, fluffy dumplings every time. First, it’s essential to use russet (baking) potatoes, and to bake them with their skins on to ensure they don’t soak up excess water from boiling and turn soggy. Peel the potatoes as soon as you can handle them, and mix the dough gently while the potatoes are still warm. If you’re nervous about the consistency of your dough, simply blanch a test gnocchi in boiling water before forming and shaping them. If it falls apart in the water, you need to add a little more flour to the dough.

Wood sorrel, with shamrock-shaped leaves and a more mellow and elegant flavor than its cousin, grows wild across the United States. Common sorrel is easier to find, with more of a pronounced sour-lemony taste, and can be used in this recipe if foraging isn’t one of your fortes. This is a refreshing soup, simple to make, with an elusive, unusual flavor due to the herb. Greek yogurt is thicker than other types of yogurt, but draining it still yields a denser base for the soup.

This isn’t the kind of tomato soup that you eat with a grilled cheese sandwich, though it’s about as easy to make. Because I like to concentrate the flavor of those amazing tomatoes, I keep the garnish here simple. I find the focaccia croutons add just enough contrast and crunch without taking away from the glory of the tomatoes. Use any combination of heirlooms that you like—from Black Russians to Green Zebras—just make sure they are juicy and ripe.

Instead of cutting your knuckles trying to grate Parmesan close to the rind, keep your scraps in a resealable bag in your fridge. Once you’ve saved up about a pound’s worth of odds and ends—which wouldn’t take too long in my house—use them to make this rich, perfumed broth. Mushroom trimmings or pancetta pieces would also make nice additions, but avoid any vegetables that are too strongly flavored or they will overwhelm the flavor of the cheese.

I don’t generally use chicken stock in soups. I prefer the cleaner flavor that water brings to the soup, especially with such a fantastic vegetable as the artichoke. Farro is a chewy Italian grain somewhat like spelt, but with a firmer texture. If you want to prepare the soup ahead of time, be sure to chill it immediately after cooking, transferring it to a shallow container so that it cools quickly. You’ll need to adjust the water levels when you reheat the soup because the farro will absorb some of the water as it sits. For a nice variation, you could add some fava beans or peas.

I’m not the biggest fan of puréed soups, but this is the exception: the simplicity captures the vegetable’s essence perfectly, and the texture is luscious and rich without even a bit of cream that might blunt the flavor. Take care to remove all of the green, fibrous leaves and bits when you prep the artichokes, and strain the soup through a fine-mesh sieve to ensure it’s pure velvet. I like to retain the simplicity by garnishing with nothing more than a drizzle of excellent olive oil to highlight the color and flavor.

Think of these as the most decadent, upscale version of a deviled egg you’ll ever eat. But instead of rubbery eggs sprinkled with paprika, these soft-boiled beauties reveal moist, velvety yolks, accented by a luxe anchovy mayo. This is the recipe where you want your eggs to be as fresh as possible. Short of keeping your own chickens, go to your farmers’ market and buy local. Don’t get all freaked out if they have a bit of straw or dirt or, um, other debris on the shells. It means they’re fresh, plus eggs have a natural antibiotic coating that protects them until you wash them. Inside, you’ll find bright orange-yellow yolks and an incredible flavor that supermarket eggs just don’t offer.

Spot prawns are actually shrimp, though they do sport four white spots on their shells, which makes the name at least partially accurate. By any name, these firm, sweet, and delicate aquatic beasties are a Pacific delicacy shown to their best advantage when served as a crudo and accented with clean flavors. If you can’t find live spot prawns or other sashimi-grade shrimp, scallops, ahi, or albacore would all work nicely with the chile and mint. Wait to combine the chile, mint, and lime until you are ready to serve so that the lime juice doesn’t “cook” the mint.

Using vanilla in savory dishes has become more popular, but don’t discount it as just a fad. The vanilla adds a depth and a fragrance that your guests probably won’t be able to peg right off the bat, but I guarantee they’ll love the combination. Sea bass has a clean, slightly buttery flavor that really works with the vanilla oil, while the peas add sweetness and texture and the mint brightens the whole thing up. The extra vanilla oil will last up to 2 weeks in the fridge, and makes a fabulous addition to vinaigrettes. Save the vanilla pod and bury it in sugar, or cover it in vodka to make your own extract.

If you simply can’t get past the idea that sardines are oily and fishy, let this crudo change your mind. The key to this dish is using sweet celery hearts—the tender, yellow, innermost bits of the head. You might think of this as the part of the celery that goes in the compost pile, but the truth is that the small yellow leaves have incredible flavor, and the pale stalks add texture without strings. As with all crudos, use your very best olive oil.

If you love fried clams or a nice bowl of clam chowder, then eating clams on the half shell will be a revelation for you. Serving clams as a crudo plays up their assertive, concentrated clam flavor and guarantees tender meat. It’s easy, delicious, and a little bit different. If you don’t have baby fennel, you can use finely chopped fennel bulb. For a less spicy dish, you can split the chile lengthwise and remove the seeds and membrane first, then dice.

This would make a lovely brunch dish, but you could serve it as an appetizer, too, with some toasted or grilled bread and a glass of sparkling. The quenelle of crème fraîche is made using two spoons like paddles to shape softer ingredients into an oval or a football. For a throwback to dot.com excess, pile some caviar on top if you like. If you aren’t feeling fancy, just dollop the crème fraîche on top instead.

In this fabulous crudo, baby fennel and radish offset the sweetness of the geoduck. This dish has an especially lovely texture to it, with the silken geoduck intermingling with the shaved vegetables. Serve with crusty bread to soak up all the goodness.