Quick

Famous dishes have historically taken their names from the chefs who invented them—Sole Dugléré, for example, was named after French chef Adolphe Dugléré. As a consultant to Finger Lakes Aquaculture, distinguished local chef Etienne Merle, who once ran well-loved Ithaca restaurants L’Auberge du Cochon Rouge and Valentine Café, created a recipe for Dugléré-style tilapia. The addition of curry and herbs gives the dish Etienne’s unmistakable touch.

Follow these rules, as set forth by Chef Samantha Izzo, when you order a bowl of her shrimp, and you’ll understand how they achieved “killer” status. You want to make sure to sop up all of the spicy broth without missing a drop. Make sure to wash your hands well before eating, as they will be your only utensils. Have extra napkins on hand, although licking your fingers is proper etiquette. For the dark ale, Samantha uses Ithaca Nut Brown ale. The bread is used for sopping up the delicious, spicy sauce.

The delicious sauce has its roots at Cornell University, where legendary Professor Robert Baker developed this recipe for the Poultry Science Department. First, split young dressed chickens and marinate in the barbecue blend, then grill at a low temperature (about 350°F). Finger Lakes classicists contend that this is the only way to fix barbecue. Local volunteer fire departments support themselves with fundraisers featuring succulent “Cornell Barbecue Chicken.”

This unpretentious little bakery and café is a favorite with the locals, and Deb Moglia’s smart-looking sandwiches on fresh-baked breads attract a steady crowd at lunchtime. My favorite is the Apple Reuben, a warmingly satisfying construction inspired by the pastrami-stuffed version, only here it is made with sautéed local apples.

Tapioca pudding is an old-fashioned fuddy-duddy of a dessert. But substitute the rich, distinctive flavor of Concord grape juice for milk in real homemade pudding, and the result is a neighborly Finger Lakes version of the classic. You’ll never look at tapioca the same way again. Eileen Farnum prepares this dish for visitors to Barrington Cellars during Keuka Wine Trail holiday events.

Mama Colaruotolo traces this dish back to her ancestral home in Italy. While it originally called for Italian white wine, she substitutes her family’s Finger Lakes Chardonnay to create a New World masterpiece. The Finger Lakes wine adds distinctive fruitiness to the dish, even better the next day, allowing the flavors to integrate even more.

This is what we imagine old Scots at the turn of the century in the Montreal’s famed Golden Square Mile neighborhood ate for breakfast: steak, kidneys, kippers, and a few eggs. After a gin festivity, it would be exactly what it takes to get you back on your feet. It’s delicious with a little watercress salad.

Sauce Vin Rouge is our mother-ship sauce, good on all matters of protein. When seasoning this sauce, or any sauce, keep in mind that it won’t be consumed like a soup, so go ahead and be relatively liberal with the salt.

This drink started as a vinaigrette for razor clams, and it still is. But with scotch, really cold, it’s awesome. If you have a juicer, it’s the best. If you don’t, a blender and a sieve will do. Chervil is one of those herbs that you can’t cook, and if you buzz it in syrup, for example, you will end up with something more akin to soup Florentine than a cocktail component. Serve in a lowball glass.

Mixing beer and tomato juice is classic; some people call it a “soup.” This is an overlooked drink perfect for brunch, lunch, and hot summer afternoons. Molson brewing has been in the Old Port since 1786. It’s the beer we grew up on. It’s a beer for the tavern, Sundays, camping, and hockey. We love microbreweries, but a cold Molson Export, the Habs, and a hockey-arena smoked meat sandwich is the holy trinity. Serve in a tavern glass.

People are always complaining about Manischewitz. We think it’s tasty and has applications at the bar. This is our tribute to our financiers Jeff, Ronnie, and David. Serve in a Champagne coupe.

We like to plow through these heady drinks with a stack of cheap Genoese salamis. Chinotto, for anyone who hasn’t sipped the bittersweet nonalcoholic soda, looks like Coca-Cola but is made from a citrus fruit grown primarily in central and southern Italy and some secret herbs. Serve in a highball glass.

Why did the olive meet the martini, the onion the Gibson? It just seems to make sense that if you want a snack in your liquor, you should make it a sausage. Give a new life to those pesky little Vienna wieners, or buy good-quality knackwurst and pickle them in a brine of equal parts vinegar and water. Serve in a small martini glass.

Here is a simple way to enjoy big Paris mushrooms. I like chanterelles, morels, and even matsutakes, but these common white mushrooms—the kind you see in supermarkets—remind me of culinary school; they smell like la bonne cuisine française. We use banker watch–size mushrooms—as big as you can find. If you’re looking for an upscale alternative, porcini will also work. This dish is best prepared in a cast-iron frying pan, served family style at the table. Bring it out hot and bubbling.

You can use any type of carrot for this dish: perfect bunching carrots in midsummer, Touchons in the fall, or large carrots to feed livestock in the winter. Use anything but the dreary, bagged mini carrots carved from larger, less valuable specimens (they have more in common with sea monkeys than food). It’s simple: if the carrots look shitty that day, buy spinach. If not, cook them up like this.

Boil turnips for too long and you’ll have socks juice soup. Cook them just right and you’re being Richard Olney for an instant. Do not confuse turnips with rutabagas; here in Quebec, they hold the same name in French. And if you have some rendered duck fat on hand, please use it in place of the oil and butter.

Back in the day, when there was Sally Wong, when there was yellow pepper, and when there was tuna, David was doing endive salad and roast chicken. Although nonrevolutionary, this salad is always delicious. It’s on the menu often, especially in the winter when the garden is under a snowbank and the Parc Vinet Salad (opposite page) is a distant memory. Use Stilton in this salad; it works much better than other blues.