Simmer

The next time you feel like throwing a raging party for all your tripe-loving friends, this is the dish for you! If you’re making a face while reading this allow me to offer a cliché: don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it. Yes, even the best honeycomb tripe could be described as mild with an edge of musk. But all that means is that it needs a good, savory vehicle to deliver that fabulous texture straight to your mouth. Here, tomato sauce enhances the flavor, while beans provide a creamy textural counterpoint. I add mint, too, to give it some zing. This is a truly comforting dish that would be especially welcome on a cold fall or winter evening.

Save this recipe for late February, when spring garlic first appears in markets. For this dish, it’s best to use larger heads, planning on one large or two small heads per serving. Piecing out the squab makes for much easier eating and allows you to cook the different parts perfectly, with the added bonus that the wings and body add incredible depth and flavor to the sauce. If you think your knife skills aren’t up to par, you can ask your butcher to do it for you, but be sure to reserve all the pieces. If your guests are big eaters, you might want to double the recipe to allow for one squab per person and serve as an entrée. Lentils would make a nice side.

Veal cheeks make the most delicate braise. Using a combination of water and wine for the braising liquid allows the sweet, subtle taste of the veal to really shine through. As a side, you need nothing more than the spring’s first ramps and some gorgeous porcini, kissed by the grill. Some years, it just so happens that the ramp season runs long, or perhaps the porcini season starts early, or both. When the two magically coincide, some amazing things happen. Using foil as insulation for the delicate ramp tops gives the vegetables a simple char on the grill. The veal needs time to become fork-tender, a few hours in all, so plan accordingly.

This is my idea of bacon and eggs. Thick, homemade bacon adding a smoky, salty touch to gorgeous spring asparagus and tender new-crop potatoes, all crowned with a perfectly poached egg—it doesn’t get much better than this. When you break into the soft yolk, it melts into the vegetables, forming a luxurious sauce. This recipe makes four hearty portions. If you would like to serve six smaller plates, keep the other quantities the same and simply increase the number of eggs.

Most recipes for basic lentils call for you to cook the legumes with vegetables until the lentils are tender. In the restaurants, we precook the lentils with celery, onions, and garlic, then finish the dish with finely diced vegetables that keep their flavor and texture, adding pancetta for richness and texture. I’m sure that once you try this technique, you won’t go back to the mushy mélange that home cooks usually end up with. The lentils make a nice accompaniment to fish and poultry entrées.

Think of this dish as the upscale cousin of that old standby, linguine with clams. Sparkling and oysters are a natural and festive combination, and here they combine to create a quick, fabulous pasta. This dish is almost a lighter version of an oyster stew, with the oysters poached just until done, the sauce brightened with prosecco, and then served over a fresh tangle of tagliarini. This would make a nice addition to a New Year’s Eve menu, or make any winter supper feel like a holiday.

The simple name of this dish doesn’t tell you how phenomenal it truly is, especially if you wait until you get your hands on large, just-out-of-the-water shrimp with the shell on. Use the shells to make a quick shrimp stock that acts as a building block of flavor to my basic tomato sauce, transforming the pasta into something special. Freeze the leftover shrimp stock in small yogurt containers and use to make linguine with shrimp again, or use with fish or seafood stews or risotto.

Duck breasts are delicious—that crackling skin and fat, the tender, ruby-hued meat. Duck legs do even more for me; the meat is darker, richer, and full of incredible flavor. If you plan on making a duck breast for dinner, buy a whole duck and roast the legs just so you can make this dish. Alternatively, I suppose you could buy a roasted duck from a Chinese barbecue and pick the meat. Bloomsdale is a lovely, crinkly variety of spinach that is full-bodied and flavorful. If you can’t find Bloomsdale, any heirloom or organic spinach will do. Make sure you wash the leaves well, dunking a few times to remove all the sand and grit.

Farrotto is a risotto-style dish made with farro instead of rice, but the similarity stops there. Farrotto has a greater depth and nuttiness than regular risotto—not better or worse, just different. It also produces a more textured final dish. It’s out of this world paired with spring’s first earthy morels and peas, which add sweetness and dots of color. For tips on cleaning morels, see page 34. Farro is emmer wheat, often erroneously called “spelt” in English; you can find true farro in fancy grocery stores or specialty Italian markets.

Roasting the squash before incorporating it into the rice concentrates the flavor and adds great depth to this vibrant fall risotto. I use butternut here, but any firm-fleshed fall squash or pumpkin would work; kabocha would make an especially nice substitute. Cold-pressed hazelnut oil has a distinctive, nutty flavor, less pungent than some other nut oils, such as walnut. You can find some good brands from France, and one or two nice local oils that hail from the nut orchards of the Northwest. Although it’s expensive, it’s a great oil to use on salads and with certain desserts.

This is a wonderful winter dish—fresh and simple with nothing to get between you and pure clam flavor. Steaming the clams first in a little white wine, then using that liquid in place of broth, infuses the rice with a briny essence that totally sings. Because of the star ingredient, you shouldn’t need to use much salt in the dish, and cheese here would be a no-no. A little butter at the end provides the perfect touch of richness, while a bit of lemon zest accents the clams perfectly.

I’ve met a lot of people who are so intimidated by the process it takes to extract the luscious heart from a large thistle that they never go any further with the artichoke than steaming it and melting some butter. There’s nothing wrong with that approach—it’s good eating, for sure—but it does keep you from enjoying a host of dishes that allow this regal vegetable to play a more suave, starring role. The single most common mistake people make when they prep an artichoke is to use a dull knife. Not only home cooks make that mistake, either. I’ve seen professionals prep artichokes so they look like they went through the dryer. Take a steel to your knife and follow the directions carefully, and prepping the hearts should be a breeze, giving you the star ingredient for a lovely spring risotto. This risotto takes a bit more liquid than some others in the book because the artichokes absorb some as they cook. Make sure the butter you add to finish the dish is cold, so it incorporates and adds richness and body.

This risotto is a special springtime treat, not only because of the delicate flavor of the ramps but also because the porcini is allowed to really be the star. I treat it like a fine truffle, shaving it with a mandoline in a shower over each bowl. The heat of the risotto softens the mushrooms ever so slightly, and the shavings add texture and a wonderful fragrance.

Otherwise known as green garlic and garlic shoots, spring garlic captures the essence of garlic without any harshness or bite. Unlike mature garlic, spring garlic should be featured in recipes that won’t overwhelm the delicate flavor, such as this risotto. Make sure you wash the spring garlic thoroughly to remove any sand.

When you pour out the polenta to chill, don’t worry about making it pretty. Do what we do at the restaurants and use a cookie or biscuit cutter to create even shapes, or cut out wedges or squares—use your imagination. Grilled or sautéed polenta makes an excellent accompaniment to meat, game, or poultry. Try a couple of disks nestled next to a pork chop, roasted chicken, or guinea hen. Firm polenta should be crispy outside, soft and creamy inside, like a good French fry. In short, everything you could want.

Adding the cornmeal to the water, and avoiding lumps, is the only challenging part of making good polenta. In the restaurants, we make it to order, and I vacillate between using fine and medium grinds, depending on the finished consistency I am looking for. The coarser polenta has more presence on the plate and such a deep corn flavor that I think it’s a good place to start. Of course, fine or “instant” polenta has the advantage of being quicker to make. Traditionally, polenta is made using a wooden spoon, though I use a whisk. If you don’t need or want this much polenta, you can halve the recipe with good results.

When the late summer months bring you perfectly plump corn, buttery chanterelles, and Walla Walla onions so sweet you could eat them like apples, there isn’t much to do but stay out of their way. This light but flavorful soup showcases each of the ingredients without overwhelming their delicacy. Because the corn and chanterelles offer such nice, contrasting textures, I prefer not to purée this soup.

The success of this deceptively simple soup depends on the use of perfectly fresh English peas and careful, brief cooking to preserve their delicate flavor. The unctuous duck egg gilds the lily, highlighting the vibrant sweetness and color of the peas. If you wish to make the soup in advance of serving, chill it quickly in an ice bath after straining and blending in the cream. When ready to serve, reheat the soup while you poach the eggs.