Nut Free

Dungeness crabs are caught off the Pacific coast, from the tip of Alaska to as far south as Baja California, during the cold-water months of November to early June. If you’re not on the West Coast or can’t find Dungeness crabs, look for stone, peekytoe, or blue crabs. And if you’re short on time, purchase the crabs already cooked, cracked, and cleaned from a good fishmonger. If you’re feeling less extravagant or can’t get to the fish market, a crabless version of this dish makes a pretty good salad, too.

One year while researching ideas for our St. Patrick’s Sunday supper, I discovered that the Irish obsession with potatoes is not a myth. Page after page of old Irish “cookery books” reveal numerous formulas for the tuber, with whimsical names for each. I fell for champ, an Irish version of mashed potatoes flavored with a handful of finely sliced scallions. Since it was spring, I skipped the scallions and used lots of sliced green garlic instead. But the Irish don’t live on potatoes alone; seafood is actually the backbone of their diet. So I decided to celebrate their patron saint with something from the sea. I found lots of recipes for fish as well as tiny clams known as cockles. Trying to bring these Irish specialties together, I steamed the cockles with white wine and butter and then spooned them over the creamy green garlic champ. And what more Irish way to sop up those briny juices than with a savory brown scone?

Fava beans have a cult status in my kitchen, and during their short spring season, I use them as much as possible in salads, ragoûts, and salsas. Here, they are gently stewed in olive oil with garlic and chile and puréed until creamy. This fava bean “hummus” is on my list of perfect foods. Though the classic cheese served with favas in Italy is pecorino, I break with tradition and crumble feta over the purée instead. If you have any leftover purée, make an open-faced sandwich topped with arugula, shallots, a drizzling of olive oil, a squeeze of lemon, and a few shavings of pecorino (or feta). It’s the ultimate snack or light lunch.

Certain foods taste better when you eat them with your hands, like barbecued ribs and corn on the cob. This salad is the perfect way to indulge that primal urge. Use the endive leaves as scoops to gather up some olive shards, a fava bean or two, and a slice of lemon. The crisp spears explode with flavor, and before you’ve finished the first your hand will be reaching for another. Hand out forks if you must, and make sure to tell your friends that the Meyer lemon slices are for eating. They’re sweet and delicious, peel and all. Slice the olives thinly, so their intense taste doesn’t overwhelm the other ingredients. As for the dressing, gently stir (don’t whisk) in the cream to incorporate it without whipping it.

Every night around 4 a.m. at Employees Only, we offer up a hot cup of chunky chicken soup to the survivors of the long, cruel night. It is a tradition came by way of Greek night clubs. It is how we say “thank you” and “good night” to all the people who might expect one more drink.

When first conceiving Employees Only, we knew we wanted to create our own house vermouths. We abandoned the idea of making our vermouth from raw wine and decided instead to use dry vermouth as a base for an infusion of additional herbs. The primary flavors in dry vermouth are rosemary, thyme, lavender, and anise—the same botanicals that make up the herbes de Provence blend used in cooking. To extract and transfuse flavors, we use a hot infusion method to create just a small amount of highly concentrated liquid that can be blended with the rest of a bottle of vermouth without cooking out all the alcohol. This controlled method of infusing reduces the amount of contact between alcohol and herbs—if left to steep too long, the finish is bitter. EO Vermouth de Provence is one of the key ingredients in the Provençal cocktail (page 49).

I love a good bread and butter pickle, so I decided to create my own version. While I don’t have the classic spices here, my blend of rice vinegar and yuzu juice approximates the same acidity of the original. These are terrific with (or on) sandwiches. Of course, I like to eat them straight, too.

If you’ve always wanted to try making your own pasta dough, this is the recipe to start with. I leave the work of kneading to my stand mixer, though I prefer to roll the dough through my hand crank machine. This basic recipe can be turned into any strand pasta and also makes a great ravioli wrapper.

The trio of sugar, cream, and butter can’t be beat. In its liquid form here, it can be drizzled on desserts—or even breakfast treats.

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.

Yes, This is good for you. But that’s not the reason I eat it. By whipping the egg whites just until foamy, the resulting omelet is light and delicious. (Unwhisked egg whites get rubbery.) Unlike regular omelets, which shouldn’t color, this one gets cooked in a blazing hot pan until crisped and brown and the fresh herbs get sealed right into the whites. While lemon may seem an unlikely pairing for eggs, the bit of zest at the end adds a brightness perfect for the clean flavors here.

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.

When I first moved to America I had never tasted eggs Benedict before and was shocked by its popularity. Over the years, I’ve made this dish my own. Most hollandaise recipes call for clarified butter, but I prefer using fresh butter to capture the rich milk flavor.

I consider myself a pretty high-energy guy, but some mornings, even I need something that will really wake me up. The fresh ginger and pinch of salt brighten the fresh fruit and vegetable juices here, making this an ideal breakfast drink. It also cures a hangover like nothing else. Or so I’m told . . .

When we have a lot of people over for brunch, I love serving my version of a New York classic. Each person can easily pick up a stack—only half a bagel—from a tower and not get full on too much bread. You can even cut each tower into quarters so your guests can pick up a bite. I like using H&H poppy seed bagels, but feel free to substitute your favorite bagel.

Chloe’s favorite breakfast dish has become mine, too. I wouldn’t trade our weekend ritual of whisking the batter together for anything.

One saturday, Greg Brainin, my director of creative development, threw this together for his daughters. When he made it for me the following Monday, I knew it would become a regular weekend treat for my family, too. It’s as comforting as a classic buttery coffee cake, but the crunch of raw sugar and sea salt in the topping makes it taste refreshingly new.

In spring, I like to make my own syrup in lieu of maple syrup, which I prefer in the fall and winter. The first berries of the season, which aren’t very sweet, are transformed by the golden caramel that melts into the firm fruit.