5 Ingredients or Fewer

There will be quite a bit of this left over for the next day. Lovely reheated with cold ham.

The brassicas are much revered in Chinese cooking, and dealt with elsewhere in this book, but the white cabbage, with its waxy leaves and crisp stalks, makes an excellent candidate for seasoning with the saltier accompaniments. On cold, rather gray days, the sort of day when nothing much happens, I often crave robust, dominating flavors—perhaps in a quest to inject some vigor into the occasion. Strident greens tossed in lip-tingling oyster sauce can be such a dish. In the last four or five years, this has become one of those recipes I use as a “knee-jerk” accompaniment—an alternative to opening a bag of frozen peas. It is excellent with grilled pork chops, though I have also eaten it atop a bowl of steamed rice before now.

One of the gifts of the nouvelle cuisine movement was the puréed vegetable. At its worst, a sad puddle of unidentifiable beige gunk; at its most successful, a moreish pool of intensely flavored, silk-textured essence. Sprouts, which marry so happily with cream, tend to look like baby food when given this treatment, so I keep them coarsely chopped instead of whizzed to a pulp. I am exceptionally fond of this little side dish.

I often serve this as a main course, but it is in its element as a side dish. Its bright green and smoky-bacon notes would be interesting with grilled mackerel, or perhaps with thinly sliced cold meat such as roast pork or beef. This is essentially a cheap dish, robust and earthy, to which you could add caraway seeds if juniper isn’t your thing, or shreds of fat-speckled salami in place of the bacon, or a few croutons to make it more substantial.

I have used Taleggio, Camembert, and English Tunworth from Hampshire as an impromptu “sauce” for warm asparagus with great success. A very soft blue would work as well.

Cured pork products get on well with our beloved spears, bacon and pancetta especially. Although it is not especially easy to eat, requiring fingers and forks, a rubble of cooked, chopped pancetta, and especially its melted fat, makes a gorgeous seasoning for a fat bunch of spears.

There is no joy in undercooked asparagus. Neither, curiously, is there much flavor. It must be soft and juicy, otherwise it loses much of its magic. Baking the spears in an aluminum foil parcel in the oven will suit those who don’t like messing around with boiling water and steam, and keeps the asparagus surprisingly succulent.

The dough for croissants, Danish, and certain other pastries is made by a method known as lamination, which involves folding layers of dough and butter (or another fat) to create many thin layers that puff when baked. Puff pastry, the classic unyeasted version of this dough, is used to make many pastries. In this book, I’ll stick with a yeasted formula that can be used to make both croissants and Danish pastry. There are many versions of laminated dough and many systems of rolling to create a specific number of layers. The system I’m presenting here certainly isn’t the only one that works, but I like it because it’s easy and also incorporates overnight fermentation to create a superb product. Feel free to modify it if you prefer more or fewer layers. The most common error home bakers make when laminating is to apply too much pressure to the dough, which breaks the paper-thin layers of dough and fat. To help with this, the formula here creates a very soft, pliable dough, and the method calls for a fair amount of dusting with flour to prevent sticking. There are two parts to the final dough: the détrempe and the butter block. The détrempe is the plain dough before the butter is rolled in. The butter block is the fat that will be laminated between layers of dough. There are many ways to incorporate the fat into the détrempe, including spreading it by hand in dabs over the rolled-out dough, which is sometimes called spotting. The method here is more systematic, using a series of letter folds (in thirds) to produce 81 layers of dough and fat—more than enough for a great accordion-style expansion of the layers (one of the recipe testers called it a concertina effect). Should you decide to experiment and try making more layers, just keep in mind that the layers are more vulnerable to rupturing as they get thinner, which defeats the purpose of laminating. I always suggest getting good at 81 layers before adding a fourth letter fold, which will increase the number of layers to 243. You can use either unbleached bread flour or all-purpose flour for the dough. Bread flour provides more structure, while all-purpose flour, being slightly softer, makes a more tender product.

There are a number of ways to make pretzels, but I like this version, especially when the pretzels are served with mustard. The baking method is similar to making bagels, but not quite the same. Traditionally, pretzels are dipped in pans of food-grade lye and water to create the distinctive shiny, dark brown crust, but this kind of lye is difficult to obtain and dangerous to have lying around the house, so I suggest substituting a baking soda solution. However, if you can obtain lye and are comfortable using it, follow the instructions on the package. (To use lye crystals, combine 0.75 ounce or 21 grams of crystals with 2 cups of water and be sure to wear protective gloves and eyewear—you can see why I prefer baking soda!)

Because the cheese may bubble and run out of this bread while in the oven, I advise baking the loaves on a parchment-lined sheet pan rather than directly on a baking stone. Any cheese that does run out onto the pan will be like a crispy little cheese snack, so it won’t go to waste.

You can use any kind of beer in this recipe, as both light and dark brews add subtle flavors that will complement the cheese.