Vegetable

Less is more in this simple glaze. The complexity here comes from cooking the garlic and onion until sweet enough to round out the heat of the chiles. I love brushing this on any grilled meat or fish. Another fun use is tossing this sauce with fried calamari or popcorn shrimp.

This is more than just hot sauce. The funky, fruity blend can sear your tongue, but in a pleasant tingling way that allows you to still taste the layers of flavors. You can use this the way you use bottled hot sauce—for buttery sauces, soups, eggs—you’ll find that it just makes everything taste so much better.

While I use this to dress my chicken salad (page 130), I also like it on soft bitter lettuces. Too often, we relegate vinaigrettes to greens, but they’re also good with proteins. This one, in particular, pairs well with salmon, either poached or slow-baked.

This dish is more or less fried eggs with crunchy, savory bits cooked into them. It’s like a cross between a frittata and an omelet, but a whole lot better. This is Marja’s favorite weekend breakfast, so I usually just make two servings for us to share, but you can easily double the recipe below if you cook it in a large skillet.

One of my first lessons as an apprentice, both in my mom’s kitchen and in my first restaurant position, was how to perfect an omelet. It should be fluffy, with runny eggs, and never browned. Back then, we used steel pans. We now have the advantage of nonstick pans, which make the technique more foolproof and the omelet every bit as delicious. Although the chiles are optional, they’re my favorite part of this dish. They add a bright note to accent the wilted spinach and creamy goat cheese melted into the eggs.

As a rule, I season my greens in direct proportion to their degree of bitterness. To mellow the edge of mustard greens without overwhelming them with seasoning, I use this technique of cooking them in salty boiling water with butter melted into it. It infuses the greens with tons of flavor, but keeps their natural edge intact. If you love that hot, mustardy bite, be sure to add the mustard oil at the end.

To bring out the best in this snowy white root vegetable, I simmer it in honey and citrus. A little heat balances the luscious sweetness.

I came up with this technique of boiling a squash whole while watching a movie. I didn’t want to miss the good parts—and the kids didn’t want to pause it for me while I tended the stove. The squash ended up cooking beautifully, becoming juicy and tender with zero effort.

Hen of the woods, also known as maitake, are my favorite mushroom. They’re as meaty and rich as steak and they make a great side dish. You can also try this technique with oyster mushrooms in clusters or even shiitakes, both of which will cook more quickly. The seasonings couldn’t be simpler, but the unusual combination of sesame, parsley, and lime is utterly delicious.

My grandmother passed this recipe down to my mom and she then passed it on to me. It’s a casserole of pure comfort. First, bitter endive is simmered until sweet, then wrapped in savory ham and smothered with a creamy nutmeg béchamel. Gruyère tops it off before it’s baked until bubbly and golden.

Served under Soy-Syrup Roasted Duck (page 142), this super-tender cabbage perfectly balances the richness of the meat. But I love it so much, I eat it on its own, too. As always with fresh cabbage, I add the juniper berries at the end to lightly perfume the dish.

Swiss chard isn’t exactly a bitter green, but it’s not candy either. To bring out its fresh, mild, spinach-like flavor, I braise it with earthy mushrooms and thyme.

Blanching the carrots before roasting them makes a huge difference. Not only are they more flavorful, they also become juicy and tender after roasting. Coating them with a fragrant spice paste and cooking them along with fresh citrus infuses them with an intoxicating blend of flavors.

I roast my potatoes with garlic and herbs, so why not do the same when boiling them? I discovered that the aromatics really infuse the potatoes when you start them together in cold water and then heat them to boiling.

Too often, summer squash ends up watery and soft. By cooking the squash on a rack, I release the water and give the squash an almost fluffy texture. The cheese creates a crisp, savory crust that makes this dish irresistible.

My version of corn “cake” is pure corn. There’s no flour, eggs, or any other binding element—the natural juices of the corn are starchy enough to hold everything together as a tender, custardy whole.

I love this asparagus-olive combo. Blasting the two together in a really hot oven intensifies all of the flavors. If you make this with thin asparagus spears, skip the peeling step and roast for just 6 minutes.

In spring, garden peas and young carrots need little embellishment to taste amazing. It’s all about the execution. You want them just tender, but not crunchy. And you use only a little butter here—just enough to make the vegetables glisten.

People often ask me why the asparagus in my eponymous restaurant tastes so much better than similar-looking spears they’ve had elsewhere. The answer is simple: We cook each batch to order. Most kitchens blanch the asparagus early in the day and then reheat it just before serving; a lot of flavor is lost that way. This is one of the first lessons my chef de cuisine Mark Lapico teaches new cooks at my flagship. Once you try this recipe at home, you’ll never throw your asparagus in ice water again. Of course, you can make this dish with olive oil, but it’s especially good with butter.

Whenever I serve something really rich, like Soy-Braised Lamb Shanks (page 168), I like to have something tart and bracing to go with it. The tangy-hot blend of apples and chiles goes well with just about any red meat, and the combination of creamy and crunchy is unbeatable.