Easy

This can be served, with rice, alongside any dal (page 433) or as a condiment with spicy stewed dishes. It can also be mixed into yogurt to make a kind of Raita (page 175).

This is why people want to move to Italy: you can buy raw fresh artichoke hearts already trimmed (occasionally you can find these in this country’s best markets too, especially in California), and layer them with the best Parmesan and olive oil. The cheese and artichoke have some kind of symbiotic magic going on, making the whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Fantastic.

Toasted sesame seeds are an important ingredient in a great deal of Middle Eastern and Asian cooking. You can buy sesame seeds pretoasted (especially at Korean markets), but the toasting process is nearly effortless (just make sure not to burn the seeds). There are many colors of sesame seeds. The most common variety, which are called white but are actually pale to dark tan, sometimes with tinges of gray, are fine for almost all uses. Store sesame seeds in the refrigerator or freezer to prevent them from turning rancid—an uncommon but not impossible eventuality.

You might think Caesar Salad is American, but legend has it that it was invented in Tijuana in the 1920s by an Italian named Caesar Cardini, who originally called it “aviator’s salad” because so many of the U.S. Air Force pilots based in San Diego loved it. In any case, the secret to a great Caesar salad is making sure everything is as fresh as you can get it—this includes the eggs and lettuce—and the best quality possible: freshly grated (and real) Parmesan and good anchovies, packed in either salt or olive oil.

Most closely associated with Greece, this is seen throughout the Eastern Mediterranean, and it remains a standard. It works equally well with whole eggs or yolks, but it is far prettier when you use yolks only. It’s a simple sauce, not meant to be especially elegant, but quite flavorful. Perfect with steamed green vegetables.

One of the most delicious salads, offered at many Paris bistros and throughout the countryside. Good with a ripe pear on the side or cut into cubes and added to the mix.

Here’s a “Why didn’t I think of that?” concoction that’s added to many plates—and sometimes simply set on the table as a condiment—throughout the Middle East. Fresh and delicious, it’s often made with mint instead of parsley or shallot in place of onion. Serve with any grilled meat, but especially Kofte (page 355).

Serve this raitalike dressing with any Middle Eastern kebab or kofte (pages 354–356), just as a drizzle, or with any grilled meat, poultry, or fish. If you have a source for fresh yogurt, this is the place to use it. Many times this is made with a teaspoon or more of minced garlic. Obviously, that changes its character greatly, but some people cannot live without it. Good either way.

Simple, basic, and essential. You can always make a true Vinaigrette (page 600), but as is, this is the simplest green salad, as good for entertaining as it is for weeknights. Almost any greens are good with this dressing, from romaine, Boston, or iceberg lettuce to frisée or radicchio, but a mixture is best. The prepacked mesclun mixtures now sold in almost all supermarkets make it even easier.

As with most spice rubs, there are nearly infinite versions of this, but all have four things in common: Coriander, chile, garlic, and caraway. It’s the latter that gives it a surprising flavor, one that complements meat, especially lamb, beautifully. If you are going to use this as a spice rub on the same day you make it, by all means use fresh garlic. If you plan to store it for a while, use garlic powder. And of course you can substitute preground spices for fresh, but this way is better.

Among the simplest and most useful all-purpose chile pastes—terrific as a condiment for grilled food, and useful by the spoonful in braised dishes—this one can be made with nothing more than dried chiles (the standard red ones, inexpensive and readily available at any Asian market, are fine), garlic, and olive oil. A bit of cumin or Tabil is a nice addition. However—and this is a big however—harissa need not be fiery; it can be made with relatively mild chiles, like New Mexico or ancho chiles. Furthermore, whether you need the chiles or not is up to you; even if you use “mild” chiles, the sauce will be fairly hot if you do not. Obviously, some experimenting may be necessary to find your tolerance level. I have eaten harissa in many different forms, and this recipe is my choice. Harissa keeps for at least a week or two, refrigerated. It will lose a bit of intensity over time, but this is not necessarily a bad thing; some would call it mellowing.

Preserved lemons are a staple of North African cuisine that are called for in two recipes in this book, Onion and Saffron Chicken (page 295) and Roast Pepper Salad with Tomatoes and Preserved Lemon (page 193). But you can add them to almost any tagine—chicken, fish, or lamb—with excellent results. In fact, if you have a batch of these on hand, you may find yourself incorporating them into dishes that have nothing to do with their land of origin, things like Sautéed Scallops with Garlic (page 211), or as an adjunct to the fresh lemon in the meunière recipe on page 240. I’d had mixed luck with preserving lemons over the years and, while I can’t quite account for why that was, I can say I’ve worked out a way around it: treat preserved lemons like a “quick” or refrigerator pickle. The spices listed here are optional—feel free to omit them, change their quantities, or add to them to taste. They’re included to round out the sweet lemony high note and salty, acidic tang that characterizes the flavor of the preserved lemons.

The smell of dashi—the basic stock common to hundreds of Japanese dishes—is everywhere in Japan. And that makes sense: it’s a quickly made stock that gives all kinds of foods a good, distinctive flavor. The two main ingredients—kelp (a kind of seaweed also called kombu; see page 484) and dried bonito flakes (bonito is a type of tuna)—are esoteric, but they’re sold at every Japanese market and now at many more general Asian markets and health food stores. The process is simple, the results reliable; try it. But whatever you do, steer clear of instant dashi, which is just about as good as chicken bouillon cubes, which is to say not good at all.

You don’t see much cilantro in Europe, but you find it in the southeastern part of the continent, where several cultures mingle. Regardless of this sauce’s origin (it is closely related to Tarator or Skordalia; recipe follows), it is fabulous with grilled meats, especially lamb. Walnut oil is not essential here, but it really does make a difference.

The easiest and most economical stock there is. And not only can it substitute for fish stock, but it’s useful in its own right. You can add vegetables, as you do for Fish Stock (preceding recipe), but it isn’t essential.

A wonderful all-purpose sauce and mayonnaise substitute; use it for grilled meats, steamed vegetables, even chicken salad. For a milder sauce, reduce the garlic to one clove and substitute paprika for the chile. And there are lots of options for the liquid; the flavors of the other ingredients are so strong that it doesn’t matter all that much. Many cooks simply use a bit of olive oil and some water. Others use hazelnuts, pine nuts, or blanched almonds in place of walnuts; all are good. Be sure to see Chicken with Walnut Sauce (page 278).

Though the fish industry is more factory oriented than ever, you can still grab a few heads and racks (skeletons) from fishmongers for free, even at supermarkets. All you have to know is that usually you want white-fleshed fish, without their guts (which are strong tasting) or gills (which are bitter). Once you have those, you can make good fish stock in less than an hour.

In Western cooking, vinaigrette is the closest thing to an all-purpose sauce. I recommend making vinaigrette in a blender, where it becomes so stable that it can be prepared hours before it is needed. Once made, it can be used on everything from green salad to cold meat, vegetables, or fish dishes to anything that has been broiled or grilled, whether served hot or at room temperature. I well remember the first time I had good vinaigrette, and it was in France. It was so far and away the best salad dressing I’d ever tasted (and at this point I was twenty-six years old, so I’d tasted at least a few, though the vast majority had come out of bottles) that I had to ask the secret. The answer—now so obvious, then a revelation—was shallots. But you can use such a wide variety of flavors in vinaigrette (see the variations) that these days the standard French variety seems almost clichéd.

An invaluable sauce that has countless uses with both fish (especially poached or fried) and vegetables, not to mention canned tuna. Make it once and, although you’ll probably keep the bottle variety around, you will turn to this time and again. For a stronger mayonnaise, use extra virgin olive oil and add a pinch or more of cayenne.

Easy to make—you can use a slow cooker and cook for about 6 hours—but, ironically, so easy to consume. When you make it, you’ll find uses for it, and it will be time to make it again. You can always use canned stock or water, but there is nothing like real stock.