Simmer

I have seen stuffed squid recipes with forty ingredients, and some are quite good; often, they contain squid ink, which—though hard to find (or to collect from the squid’s sacs)—is undeniably delicious. But those recipes are too time consuming for me. Still, squid—like piquillo peppers—seem to have been created for stuffing. So, over the years, I have devised this simple, sensible procedure, which produces a stuffed squid much like the one I was served a couple of years ago in northern Spain. Beware that squid shrinks significantly during cooking, so be careful to stuff it very loosely; over stuffing may result in burst squid. Great with Peasant-Style Potatoes (page 477) or Potatoes with Bay Leaves (page 481).

Chipotles are smoked jalapeños, and they’re available dried (soak them in warm water until soft before use) or in cans. When canned, they’re called chiles in adobo; adobo is a red sauce from Veracruz that’s perfect for this dish. Serve this spicy dish with plain white rice and lots of it.

Along with Cochinita Pibil (page 351), this is among the best uses for the annatto-based Recado Rojo, one of the most beautiful and flavorful sauces in the world. Serve with loads of plain white rice.

The sweetness of coconut milk tames the heat of this quick stew somewhat, but it remains a dish for fans of fiery food. If you cut the number of chiles to one, however, that will change. In any case, you will want a fair amount of plain white rice with this one.

A splendid seaweed-based dish that can be made completely from the pantry (to be sure, a well-stocked pantry, and one that will require a little forethought). Hijiki is the seaweed of choice, a common curly black variety that looks as beautiful as black pasta once it’s been soaked; you can buy it at any health food store or, of course, a Japanese market. (Buy some mirin, the sweet Japanese cooking wine, while you’re there; it keeps forever and adds a distinctive flavor to many Japanese dishes.)

Back in the days when I tackled such challenging projects, I made my own paneer, the fresh cheese that is integral to this dish of spicy spinach. Although you can buy paneer at markets specializing in Indian ingredients (and you can find these in almost every city), there is a superb substitute, and it’s sold everywhere: tofu. Like paneer, tofu is a fresh, quickly made cheese; it just happens to have a soy base rather than a cow’s milk base. But both are supremely bland, tender, and delicate. The curry powder used here should not be especially fiery or laden with black pepper, but on the sweet side, containing spices like nutmeg, cardamom, and cinnamon. (If you’re making your own, you’ll find a recipe on page 593; if you’re buying, just try to avoid mixes labeled hot.)

Haaq is actually the name of a bitter green from Kashmir, not unlike spinach but perhaps a little more strongly flavored. In any case, spinach is used as a substitute throughout India, and this simple preparation is widespread. Neither mustard oil nor the amount of chile (I use only one) is key; but asafetida—also known as hing—the odd yellow powder (it’s made from a resin that is exuded by the roots of the plant) with the off putting aroma, most definitely is. In fact, this is the place to use it and learn to love it, as I believe you will. You can serve this as a side dish (in which case halve the quantities) or as a main course,with rice. It’s also often served with fried fish on top of it.

Like the recipe on page 486, here is yet another super version of “creamed” spinach (true creamed spinach is on page 490), this one popular in Thailand and elsewhere. You can add curry powder or garam masala to this mix or make it into more of a stew by adding some minced pork or shrimp.

The real deal. It doesn’t matter how you cook the spinach in step 1: you can steam, microwave, or boil it, and there’s no difference in the final result. However, if you can get fresh cream, not ultrapasteurized, you’ll see a real difference in both texture and taste in the final dish.

There is no easier way to make a humble veg seem elegant than glazing it in this manner; turnips become royal enough to serve with any dish, but I like them best with roast chicken or beef. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: carrots, radishes, onions, beets, parsnips, or other root vegetables.

Most squash preparations are fairly bland, sweet, even insipid, but not this one, a lovely winter stew that can be a centerpiece for vegetarians (or for meat eaters with the addition of a few cubes of boneless chicken). A good rice pilaf (page 513) would suit this fine. It would also be at home alongside plain grilled steak. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Semi-ripe plantains, potatoes, or sweet potatoes.

Houria is a great starter, but you can also serve it alongside North African meat dishes, like Lamb Tagine with Prunes (page 407) or Chicken and Lentil Tagine (page 284). It comes in many forms but always combines the sweetness of carrots with the typically earthy spices of North Africa. It’s best with cooked carrots, but if you’re in a hurry you can make it with raw carrots; see the variation. Julienning carrots for houria is easiest with a mandoline (see page 167); if you don’t have one, slice or chop them roughly.

Wonderfully sweet, this side dish is the Japanese equivalent of butter-glazed carrots. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Butternut or other winter squash or carrots.

Throughout the eastern Mediterranean, you’ll find cool cooked greens sprinkled with olive oil and doused with lemon. Every green you can cook is used in this way, from spinach to wild greens I’d never heard of. It’s great with collards, dandelions, mustard, broccoli raab . . . you get the idea. If you know you’re cooking greens one night, make a double batch and prepare these the next day. Juicy, tart, and refreshing, this is the ideal summer vegetable dish.

The countryside chef who showed me this dish told me that soaking and cooking chickpeas in rainwater makes them taste better. (Unless you live in a pristine environment, it’s probably not a good idea; or maybe that’s exactly the point.) Anyway, this classic salad is great warm, at room temperature, or cold. Of course the chickpeas can be cooked a day or more in advance, allowing you to make this at the last minute. The chickpeas will cook somewhat faster if you soak them overnight or boil them for a minute and then let soak for a couple of hours; but it isn’t necessary.

This is a condiment. Set it on the table and use it whenever the mood strikes. I’ve put it on everything from scrambled eggs to tuna salad, but I like it best on plain steamed vegetables.

Like coconut milk, this is nearly universal, seen from Mexico to Thailand to India. For information about tamarind, see the sidebar on page 587.

In Philippine cuisine, dark, fairly harsh soy sauce is favored, but it’s often combined with sugar to create a syrupy dressing for vegetables. The added garlic gives this sweet and salty sauce a pleasant kick.

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.

This takes a little time and a little care; the chicken must be browned fully before you add the vegetables, since the liquid they exude will stop the browning process. If you like, you can strain this stock and reduce it over high heat to a cup or two of shiny glaze, enough to make a flavorful sauce for meat, chicken, fish, or vegetables (store the sauce as you would the stock itself). To make this even richer and darker, substitute beef or veal (using the same cuts you’d use for beef stock, page 160) for some or all of the chicken.