Cheese

There are pasta sauces you can make in the time it takes the pasta-cooking water to come to a boil, and there are those that are really fast—those that can be made in the eight to ten minutes it takes to actually cook the pasta. This is one of the latter, one that boasts just a couple of main ingredients and a supporting cast of two staples.

This dish is a minimalist’s take on the northern Italian autumn staple of tortelli filled with zucca, a pumpkinlike vegetable whose flesh, like that of butternut or acorn squash, is dense, orange, and somewhat sweet. The flavor and essential nature of that dish can be captured in a thirty-minute preparation that turns the classic inside out, using the squash as a sauce and sparing you the hours it would take to stuff the tortelli.

This Bread Casserole is a major upgrade from stuffing. Like most puddings and custards, it should be removed from the oven when it still appears slightly underdone, because its retained heat will firm it up just fine. Use good-quality white bread—torn from a loaf, not presliced—and the pudding will be much better.

Fall is the time for fresh figs, which people who live in Mediterranean climates (including many Californians) take for granted but which are a real treat for the rest of us. Fresh figs may be green or dark purple; color does not affect flavor (ripeness and variety do), but most people perceive purple figs as more attractive. This is obviously a fruit dish, but the fruit functions like a vegetable in this preparation.

Grown indoors in the dark, endives are among the perfect winter vegetables, usually used in salads but also lovely when cooked. This simple gratin benefits from good, dark stock, but the addition of Parmigiano-Reggiano will cover you if you resort to canned stock.

There are two things I love about pencil-thin asparagus: one is that it requires no peeling, because its outer sheath is far more tender than that of its thick cousin; the other is that it cooks much faster. This is especially important when you turn to methods other than boiling or steaming—most notably roasting. What I like to do is roast thin spears until they’re just about tender, then top them with a foolproof two-ingredient topping: coarse bread crumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. Run that under the broiler, and you get roasted asparagus with a crunchy, high-impact crust. Keep your eye on the dish while it’s under the broiler—the time needed there is only a minute or two.

This dish, which often appears on bistro menus in France, fits the need for a good steak served with something powerfully salty and rich (anchovy butter or a combination of butter, soy sauce, and ginger will also do the trick). Some might consider the sauce overkill, but not those of us who crave it. My favorite cheese for this sauce is Roquefort, which is made from sheep’s milk. But it’s entirely a matter of taste—Stilton, Gorgonzola, Maytag blue, or any high-quality, fairly soft blue cheese will work equally well. Don’t bother, however, trying to make this sauce with commercially produced domestic blue cheese, such as that sold precrumbled for salads. Not only will its taste be inferior, but it will not give the sauce the same creaminess. This is a case where the usually too-lean and mildly flavored tenderloin (filet mignon) will do just fine. Its tenderness is welcome and its blandness more than compensated for by the sauce. I’d still prefer a good strip steak or rib-eye, which are chewier and more flavorful, but you will notice their higher fat content when they’re combined with the rich sauce.

As far a cry from iceberg lettuce and bottled dressing as you can imagine, this is a magical combination of powerful flavors made without cooking or any major challenges. Simple as this salad is, without top-quality ingredients it won’t amount to much. So use sherry or good balsamic vinegar to make the dressing, use pears that are tender and very juicy, not crunchy, mushy, or dry, and use real Italian Gorgonzola. It should be creamy; if you can taste it before buying, so much the better. This rich salad can serve as the centerpiece of a light lunch, accompanied by little more than bread. It makes an equally great starter for a grand dinner—followed by roasted meat or fish, for example—or a simple one, served with soup.

If you have had only the fast-food variety of tacos or made them using a mix, these will come as a revelation, yet they’re quite easy to make. Top them with sour cream, any salsa (pages 610–612), Guacamole (page 22), or a combination; they are also delicious on their own. There is a wealth of variations here; if you’re not interested in frying, see the soft taco version. The chicken can be cooked by any method you like; poaching with aromatic vegetables and spices will work, along with producing a decent stock.

A dish that often appears on bistro menus in France and increasingly here in the States. It’s best, I think, with Roquefort, which is made from sheep’s milk. But Stilton, Gorgonzola, Maytag blue, or any high-quality fairly soft blue cheese will work well. Don’t bother, however, trying to make this sauce with commercially produced domestic blue cheese, such as that sold precrumbled for salads. Not only will its taste be inferior, but it will not give the sauce the same creaminess. You need a salad here, to provide some offsetting lightness. Some bread wouldn’t be bad either; whatever your side dishes, they should be relatively uncomplicated.

If you have leftover roast pork, especially from Lechon Asado, this is how to use it. Combined with ham, Swiss cheese, and pickles, it makes the classic grilled sandwich of the Latin Caribbean. Though purists insist on Cuban bread (essentially a fairly soft French loaf), the best I ever had was in San Juan, made on a sweet roll. A definite bastardization but one that demonstrated that almost any kind of bread will do and that this sandwich is great in many guises. Ordinary yellow mustard is the norm for this, but consider Dijon or brown mustard instead. Similarly, bad dill pickles are standard, but if you can lay your hands on some half-sour pickles (or use Lightly Pickled Cucumbers, page 455), the results will be better— if less “authentic.”

I’d heard of hunkar begendi and even tried it in Turkish restaurants elsewhere before I went to Istanbul, but I was not prepared for the reverence it inspires. Not only is this dish delicious—its name means “Sultan’s Delight”—but its appearance causes a hush to fall over a table. This is great stuff, a creamy, eggplant-laced béchamel topped with tender braised lamb. It’s a fair amount of work, but worth it.

I’ve had variations of this spring creation in a number of places. In Holland, they use ham; in Italy, they use Parmesan; in Germany, they use both. The key ingredients, however, are good asparagus and fried eggs, and the results are as delicious as they are easy. The combination of melted butter and runny egg yolk mimics Hollandaise sauce, though I think browning the butter yields a more flavorful result. The most difficult decision may be when to serve this. I like it as a light supper, but it’s also great at brunch. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: cauliflower would be equally nice.

This may be called a torte, sformata, crostata, teglia, or quiche, not to mention a dozen other names in different countries, mostly Mediterranean. They all begin with a simple pie shell and a pile of cooked vegetables (and sometimes meat). (The recipe will take less time if you have a premade crust.) Cheese, eggs, or other enriching ingredients may be added. The result may be a first course, a light lunch, or the centerpiece of a larger meal. You can also use any of these mixtures to make a crustless “torte”—see the variation. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: zucchini or summer squash may be substituted for the eggplant.

Somewhat more elegant than its more famous French cousin, which is featured in the variation. Good hot, perhaps even better warm or at room temperature, this is an ideal buffet or picnic preparation. Like the eggplant pie on page 459, this may be prepared without a crust. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: onions of any type.

Spanakopita is among the best-known Greek dishes in the States, though the leaden, soggy versions you often encounter here are wildly different from the cheese and spinach pies served in Greece. The key to making a light spanakopita is to use a relatively small amount of strongly flavored fillings, butter every layer of phyllo—which helps the pastry stay flaky, light, and crisp—and start with good feta. As always, when working with phyllo dough (page 629), make sure you keep the pieces that you are not working with covered with a damp towel; see Baklava (page 628) for more details.

A beauty—mild, soothing, and delicious. Be sure to use waxy (“new”) potatoes, which will not fall apart. As with the other tarts in this chapter, this is best warm or at room temperature and may be prepared without any crust at all. If you’re using a crust, the recipe will take less time if you have a premade crust.

A quick street snack found in Greece, Turkey, Lebanon, and other parts of the Middle East. Great hot or at room temperature.