Simple Cooking

Labneh is an Arab cheese made by draining yogurt so it loses most of its liquid. Use natural goat's milk yogurt, or, if unavailable, natural full-fat cow's milk yogurt, but not the Greek varieties. This recipe takes at least 48 hours to make. If this is all too much, you can buy labneh from Middle Eastern grocery stores. Store the labneh in the fridge to use as a spread, like any cream cheese. A more labor-intensive option is to roll it into balls and then preserve them in a jar of oil. The jar will look beautiful, the cheese keeps for weeks at room temperature, and the balls will create a special visual effect when used, as they are, in salads and legume dishes (Couscous and Mograbiah with Oven-Dried Tomatoes ).

Guava-Chile Butter At Chifa, my Peruvian-Asian restaurant, the pan de yuca with this delicious sweet-spicy-salty spread is a the hit among our customers. It would also be tasty on crusty bread, toast, or savory scones.

Persimmons are one of the hallmarks of fall. From the time the temperature drops until the holidays, persimmons start making their way to the local farmers' market. The waiting game can be almost unbearable, but once they are finally ripe, the reward justifies the wait. My favorite thing to do with persimmons is to press the ultra-ripe fruit through a fine-mesh strainer, discard the skin and seeds, and shake the resulting pulp into my fall Margaritas.

Baked tofu is crispy on the outside, creamy inside, and loaded with flavor. Removing as much water as possible from the tofu before cooking it, as in this recipe, helps the tofu absorb the flavors of the marinade and cook up crisp rather than mushy. It is delicious eaten as is or in sandwiches, salads, or stir-fries. Serve hot or cold.

Ginger and green tea have each been credited with multiple health benefits. Here they come together deliciously in a refreshing summer drink.

Chili is the perfect party food. Just keep a pot of it warm on the stove, put out the fixings, and let everyone help themselves.

The addition of avocado makes this cold soup creamier than your average gazpacho, and the greens make it, well, greener, and with jalapeño included, too, it's got a serious kick that makes it anything but traditional. It probably goes without saying, but if you serve this to Spaniards, either don't call it gazpacho or be prepared for some arguments at the table.

Here, cauliflower lightens traditional mashed potatoes and blends in seamlessly. A touch of butter is all you need to make them rich and sumptuous. Steaming the vegetables instead of boiling them helps preserve their vitamin C.

Homemade bread crumbs are one of those "chef’s secrets"—an important but often overlooked detail that can make a dish. These easy-to-make crumbs are flaky, mild, and versatile—they don’t have that heavy whole-wheat taste and dense texture that most store-bought brands have. Since bread crumbs are a comfort-food cornerstone used in everything from cutlet coatings to casserole toppings, it’s key to have the best.

I was at Palena, my favorite restaurant in Washington, at the end of a meal, when the dessert's taste and texture made me gasp. It was a shallow lemon custard, not just silky but crystal clear in its flavor: a blast of just lemon, cream, and sugar in one bite. Pastry chef Aggie Chin explained that it's her take on a posset, a traditional English dessert in which the cream softly sets with nothing but the help of the acid from the lemon juice. I knew I'd try this at home. It makes the perfect topping for the cookie-crumble crust I like to make, and the perfect base for the fruit I like best with lemons: berries. This can be easily doubled when you'd like to make dessert for two nights in a row, or for you and a friend to share.

Like the best dressings, this is good on so much more than greens: Drizzle it on roasted sweet potatoes, brush it onto broiled eggplant, or toss it with cold soba or udon noodles. Use it to marinate mushrooms before grilling them to make Juicy Bella . Look for miso paste in the refrigerated section of natural food stores and Asian markets. If you can find South River brand, made in Massachusetts, snap it up; it's the best I've tasted outside Japan.

Earthy mushrooms, wine, and tomato bring out the best in this tender game meat. The mushrooms, with their meaty texture, round out the portion, so you get an extra-generous amount on your plate. If you can't get venison, pork tenderloin works well, too.

Readers of earlier printings of my cookbook were treated to the sad tale of my failed attempt to acquire specimens of the world's biggest arachnid, the goliath bird-eating spider (Theraphosa blondi as the pièce de résistance of this recipe collection. Since then, I've had many opportunities to cook with lesser-sized tarantulas and have now replaced the original "hypothetical" recipe with the one on these pages. Although I am at times saddened to dispatch such charismatic and long-lived invertebrates in the name of bug cuisine, I console myself with the thought that most of the tarantulas I've acquired were otherwise destined to unsatisfying lives as classroom pets and lab research specimens. Furthermore, let's face it: tarantulas make for a tasty and texturally satisfying meal. Here's why. Unlike heavily armored grasshoppers, beetles, and other land arthropods, tarantulas wear an outer layer of chitin that is comparatively thin and pliable. That's right: their eight muscular limbs are chewy, not crunchy. As such, the plentiful meat on one of these animals is more accessible and, hence, the makings for a savory spider soirée. If, for my birthday dinner, I could order anything I wanted, I'd request a Maine lobster or a tarantula spider. Properly prepared, either would make an awesome celebratory entrée. Incidentally, this particular recipe helped me best three other chefs in a series of round-robin eliminations, assisting me in bringing home the gold at the first-ever Big Bug Cook-Off, held in May 2011 at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County.

These are likely the best bug cookies you'll ever eat. And if your granny couldn't see the baked caterpillars peeking out of the dough, she'd undoubtedly ask for seconds. I bring these treats, which are sure conversation starters, when I'm asked to appear on radio talk shows. If I'm successful, after the banter has subsided, listeners will hear the sighs of contentment from the on-air hosts. Trust me on this: they're that good. When baked, those chubby ivory-colored caterpillars taste like pistachios. What's not to like? Based on flavor alone, Julia Child would have endorsed this recipe—and probably asked for seconds or thirds.

Though modern spins on this recipe classic often contain anchovies or anchovy paste, the original did not. Its delicate anchovy flavor came from Worcestershire sauce. To ensure that things move smoothly, have all ingredients measured and ready to go at the outset.

September 7 marks the Feast of Saint Gratus of Aosta, the patron saint of the fear of insects. Among his many miracles, Saint Gratus is said to have aided farmers in the French Alps who vanquished a ravenous swarm of locusts by invoking his name. I chose that significant date to host a five-course bug banquet, a first-of-its-kind feast at Cafe Racer, a charmingly off-kilter drinking and dining establishment on the edge of Seattle's University District. Fifty people paid $20 each to attend this fete and to gorge themselves on Orthopteran Orzo, Locust Kabobs, a mealworm-filled Tenebrio Terrine, and a sumptuous Pear Salad dotted with Chiangbai Ants. Between courses, the café offered Bug Juice, a non-alcoholic drink, containing cochineal insect dye. The event was heralded with great enthusiasm by the Seattle media. Writing for the city's alternative newspaper The Stranger, Brendan Kiley urged the Cafe Racer team to consider hosting the bug feast more than once a year. He proposed several additional dates, each of them a feast day commemorating other holy men "who specialize in bugs&emdash;infestations of, fear of, and bites from": Saint Magnus of Füssene (patron of protection from caterpillars), Saint Narcissus (patron of protection from biting insects), Saint Mawes (patron of protection from all insects), and Saint Mark the Evangelist (patron of lawyers). Chinese ants from the Changbai region are sold commercially as a health supplement in Asia. They reputedly have health benefits, perhaps because of their proximity to the finest ginseng-growing region of China. So if you want to slow the aging process or (to quote the literature) "increase sexual vigor," then these ants are for you. When I wrote the first edition of this book, there was a local source of dried Chinese black ants in Los Angeles. However, that company no longer sells my ants of choice, opting to carry a line of healthful ant tinctures instead. As a result, I've had to look for overseas sources, which in my case means begging travelers to the East to bring me back a few vials of China's previous commodity in their luggage. WIthout further fanfare, here is the recipe for a tasty salad topped with dried black ants.

Croutons can be tricky. The store-bought versions are often too large, too salty, and too garlicky. So I prefer to make my own. I usually make several batches of croutons and store them in a resealable plastic bag in the freezer so I'll have them on hand. They taste "just-made" for weeks.

The Suffering Bastard is a 1940s tiki standby that was originally made with bourbon and gin as its base. This variation utilizes cask-strength True Blue corn whiskey from Balcones Distilling in Waco, with a nod to that city's famous teetotaling population.

This luscious three bean salad recipe combines GOYA® Red Kidney Beans, GOYA® Chick Peas, and GOYA® Blackeye Peas with crunchy fresh veggies, and a bright, lemony vinaigrette. You can be sure that this protein-packed, heart-healthy salad is just as nutritious as it is delicious!