Quick

Every winter, when the first blood oranges appear at the market, I’m as impressed as I was the first time I saw one, while visiting Rome my junior year abroad. One morning, at the local café where I had my daily cappuccino and pretended to read the paper, I heard a loud racket coming from behind me. When I turned and looked, I got my first glimpse of that blood-red juice spewing from the juicers lined up on the bar. I had to order a glass. When I got the bill, I was shocked by the steep price. But even back then, I knew it was something very special and worth every lira. This salad is my homage to those blood oranges that won my heart so many years ago. Layered with sweet dates, Parmesan, almonds, and a few leaves of peppery arugula, the blood-orange slices burst with sweet, tart juice. Because this salad has so few ingredients and nothing to “hide behind,” now is truly a time to seek out the very best ingredients. Once you’ve gathered your perfect components, the only difficult part is arranging them on the plate. Thoughtfully weave the ingredients together, layering them into “hills and valleys,” rather than piling them up into a “mountain.” Think of this as a tapestry, rather than a tossed salad.

The amount of oil called for in this recipe might shock you, but to get the rapini nicely sautéed and coated in all the flavors of the chile, shallot, and thyme, it really is necessary. If you don’t want to end up eating all that oil, you can remove the rapini from the pan with tongs, leaving the oil behind. Or you can serve it all together, and let the olive oil pool beneath the rapini on the plate. Of course, I can never resist sopping up the oil with a crusty hunk of bread!

It’s funny when some of your biggest enemies turn out years later to be your best friends. As a child, I dreaded nothing more than those mushy, boiled-todeath, off-color Brussels sprouts. But once I discovered fresh Brussels sprouts and learned how to cook them, I became a full-fledged devotée! Here, in my favorite preparation, they’re sautéed with pancetta, shallots, and garlic and then braised in the pan with balsamic vinegar and veal stock until they’re shiny and glazed.

When I was growing up, apples seemed so bland and boring—I could never get excited about a mushy Red Delicious the way I could a summer peach. But today, thanks to small farmers around the country like Barbara and Bill Spencer of Windrose Farms, we have a lot more choices where apples are concerned, and a lot more to get excited about. Determined to revive the disappearing heirlooms, the Spencers painstakingly planted more than forty varieties of apple trees on their farm in Paso Robles, California. It took 6 years for the trees to produce, and that glorious fall, when Barbara turned up at the back door of Lucques with boxes and boxes of their impressive crop, I was blown away. The apples looked dazzlingly beautiful and tasted even better. From russeted emerald greens to mottled pinks to deep burgundy-blacks, we sampled our way through them all, picking our favorites and taking note of which were better raw and which were better cooked. Some of our favorites for eating out of hand were Braeburn, Arkansas Black, and Gernes Red Acre. Crisp, sweet, and tart, these revelatory fruits were the inspiration for this fall salad. And if it’s not enough that they’re growing all these beautiful heirloom apples, Barbara and Bill also grow some of the best Asian pears I’ve ever tasted. Juicy and delicately perfumed, they’re a fun surprise, sliced and tossed with the apples, buttermilk, mint, and radicchio in this thirst-quenching salad.

My father hated salad. I remember him saying, “The only salad worth eating is one with green beans and foie gras, because it’s not all mucked up with lettuce.” And yet, somehow, I grew to love salads, especially the kind with leafy greens. This lettuce-free, classic steakhouse salad, made with first-of-the-season Early Girl tomatoes, sweet young red onions, and slabs of potent Roquefort, is a tribute to my dad, who I know would approve.

Every year, we celebrate the heart of summer with a Sunday barbecue feast at Lucques. This annual tradition always includes at least four different barbecued meats, baked beans, long-cooked greens, grilled cornbread, and former Lucques chef Rob Chalmers’s infamous coleslaw. The first year he made it, he miscalculated “slightly” and made enough for about six hundred people! It became a running joke to tease Rob about his coleslaw, and for about a year after the barbecue, the servers and busboys used to greet every staff meal with the predictable, “What, no coleslaw?” Here is a manageable-sized recipe for Rob’s light, crunchy, and always satisfying slaw.

This recipe is a way to show off the best summer fruit you can find. If possible, use an assortment of fruits, such as plums, peaches, figs, and berries, but make sure that all the fruit is up to snuff. Rather than striving for variety and ending up with less-than-ideal examples of each fruit, you’re better off with a simpler salad composed of only the most perfect nectarines or gorgeous peaches all alone. The dressing is made by pounding some of the fruit into a juicy vinaigrette. Figs are my favorite for this purpose. They mellow the vinegar and give the dressing body and chunkiness. If you’ve never had a Marcona almond, you may not forgive me for introducing you to them. Rich and dense, this Spanish almond variety is outrageously addictive. If you can’t find Marcona almonds, use toasted regular almonds or pecans.

This delicious salsa is great on corned-beef sandwiches as well as on grilled lamb, veal, or even a melted-Gruyère sandwich.

Poring through old cocktail books, we noted that every reputable bar had a house recipe for bitters. Originally we played with infusing bitter herbs and spices in absinthe but found the task too time-consuming and the results too inconsistent. We settled instead on a blend of different absinthes, Green Chartreuse, and bitters to create just the right balance of anise and bitterness.

Plymouth gin has a slightly floral nature. We accentuated it with dried lavender, creating a fast and versatile infusion with many possibilities. This infusion is visually stunning—the herb colors the gin with a slight hue of dark lavender. We use it as the base for our Provençal cocktail (page 49) and recommend it for making a lavender fizz or even an Aviation cocktail (page 63) made with lemon juice, maraschino liqueur, and infused gin.

Who will have the last word? Well, obviously, the bartender! We always have the last word, because we have the goodies—the booze. So when an experienced bartender says something to you, listen, because it may well be a recommendation for this tasty cocktail. The Last Word is a mishmash of high-octane fuels, yet it comes out surprisingly balanced and delicate. Beware: have too many and this cocktail will have the last word. Allegedly this Prohibition-era cocktail’s origins are traced back to the Detroit Athletic Club, where it was invented by a gentleman named Frank Fogarty. He was said to be “a very fine monologue artist,” which is probably how the drink got its name. One thing is certain: this cocktail is now in the top five of cocktail geekdom, appearing in bars all over the country. Made properly, it is truly a wonderful concoction.

According to cocktail historians, this cocktail first appeared in print in 1895 in Modern American Drinks by George J. Kappeler. Although this drink has fallen into obscurity today, it appeared in every respectable cocktail book printed in the early twentieth century, with the same easy recipe. It seems this drink always had the favor of knowledgeable bartenders and connoisseurs, as its unique blend of flavors could be very challenging to the untrained palate of the casual drinker. In other words, this drink is best recommended for people who have moved beyond simple straightforward flavors and are looking for a carnival in the mouth. The Widow’s Kiss is a seasonal experience best enjoyed when it is cold outside. This classic cocktail is also one of the few cocktails we recommend as a digestive or an after-dinner cocktail.

This frothy and very yummy long drink was invented in 1888 by Henry C. Ramos, bartender at Meyer’s Restaurant in New Orleans. Because the cocktail requires a lot of shaking, the bar used to hire so-called “shaker boys,” who would just shake one cocktail after another in times of heavy business. The Ramos Gin Fizz is a full-blown classic nowadays and is ordered regularly all the time, but it was intended to be enjoyed as a pick-me-up or an eye-opener. Meaning—in the morning. Shocking, isn’t it, how our forefathers used to drink? The key ingredient is the orange blossom water; just those few drops give the cocktail its definitive character. Widely popularized before, during, and after Prohibition at the Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans, it has spawned countless variations—and it’s still enjoyed on porches across the South as the sun is setting.

This punch is simple, easy, and highly refreshing. It was born out of necessity when we opened for brunch and had to serve tons of our West Side cocktails to the girls brunching in our garden. The solution was simple and a win-win for us and the guests. We love to recommend this punch in the summertime; its flavors and crispness will freshen up the nastiest hangover. Perfect for weddings, bar mitzvahs, bridal and baby showers, and all those cute get-togethers people have.