You go along in life, understanding the course of things, but never really imagining that what you see others endure will befall you. That might be the definition of youth. Because, inevitably, it happens to you. To paraphrase Mia Farrow, life is a series of losses and it’s all about the grace and resilience with which you respond. My former mother-in-law once looked at a photo of Liv Ullman on the cover of the New York Times Magazine and said, “Ugh, she’s really let herself go.” Never mind that the Swedish actress was being lauded for directing a film, what mattered to this woman was that a former beauty now looked like the 62-year-old she was. And I remember feeling disgusted by that, and vowing to forever construe “letting oneself go” as something quite liberating and wonderful.

I let my grey hair come in over the past 2 years and there was a certain loss that needed to be mourned there; quietly, mind you. I went from a tousled brunette to an elegant silver without more than a whimper. But now that I am finding it difficult to fit into any of my clothes, now that my skin is becoming slacker and my muscle tone less defined—all those clichés of middle age—I begin to feel a bit of that desperation that sends women under the scalpel. I’m not going to start in with the whole I’m invisible routine. Unless you’re Elle Macpherson, that pretty much sets in after age 40. And I’m lucky enough to have a husband who tells me I’m beautiful all the time. But, pathetic as it may be, I am newly committed to holding on to what I have for as long as possible. That entails lots of exercise and watching what I eat. Because, to me, being a glutton is all about expanding your palate not your waistline. It’s being greedy for the things that are good and good for you. It means that lunch is about salad.

step on the scale

Our friends Laquita and Tim brought us some delicious smoked trout over the holidays. It actually comes from a local business, Samaki, in Port Jervis. The owner is a white African who somehow ended up in this little town cold-smoking fish that goes to venerable city retailers like Russ and Daughters, Barney Greengrass and Zabar’s. Rich and peppery, it’s got lots of protein, iron and vitamin A, and relatively little fat, most of it the good kind. The skin is so gorgeous, no?

where there’s smoke…

I love smoked fish. I saw a great video recently on how to create your own stovetop smoker, and I just ordered a bunch of different wood shavings so I could experiment with making my own. I have a piece of black cod that I’m going to try first, as sable is my go-to order at Barney Greengrass. If you’ve never been to this New York institution, by the way, you should definitely make a pilgrimage. It ain’t cheap but it’s the real deal. I’ve also been known to frequent the outpost at Barneys in Los Angeles.

what a flake

Use a fork or your fingers to flake the fish apart. This is nicer than chopping it with a knife. Another great way to eat smoked trout is whizzed in the cuisinart with some cream cheese and scallions. Spread this on dark rye and go to heaven.

crunch time

In the middle of a busy day, I made a quick, satisfying and healthy lunch with just a few ingredients. If you work in an office, this is an easy meal to transport. Bring the salad in one bag, the trout in another and the dressing in a jar, and combine just before eating. When I worked at Saks, I went through phases where I brought my lunch a lot, and it’s so much more “sustainable” all around.

greens keeper

Frisée is like lettuce with a perm. Its texture holds dressing really well, almost like penne holds sauce. Of course you could use any combination of fresh greens you like; something with a hint of bitter goes nicely with the smoked fish. Sliced radishes add an excellent crunch, but fennel or celery would also work.

cuts the mustard

I decided to use a little mustard oil for the dressing. What I’m talking about here is pure mustard oil, a deep golden elixir with a spicy, nutty flavor that’s used quite a bit in Indian cooking. (And in Ayurvedic massage to stimulate the muscles and circulation, as well as the male member prior to sexual congress!) It smells like very powerful horseradish and is a good source of vegetarian omega-3 fatty acids. A little goes a long way, and it can be used in conjunction with other oils to mute its strong taste. Because horseradish is traditionally served with smoked fish, I though it would go well with the trout, and I was right. I drizzled some on the frisée and radishes, then added the juice of an entire small lemon.

slim chance

It was a bracing, fresh combination that satisfied. I aspire to be eternally slim, but I am not about deprivation and I will never, ever sacrifice flavor. Would you?

The birthday is past, but the celebration continues! The lovely Miriam treated me to luncheon at The John Dory yesterday, both of us braving snowdrifts and delayed trains, serendipitously arriving on the very day Sam Sifton’s rave review appeared in the Times. (Just missed scooping him by one day!) Like The Breslin, the restaurant is adjacent to—and part of the same building as—the Ace Hotel; upon inquiring, we were informed that the frigid indoor temperature was a result of the entire shebang losing its heat. I ate with gloves on and the cold endowed the whole venture with a sort of pioneer quality. Things began shaping up from the moment our hot toddies arrived. Cocktails, you gasp, in the middle of a workday?! Yes, I must say, it was rather Mad Men of us, and ushered in a mood of general excess.

hot, hot, hot: bourbon, lemon, star anise and cinnamon

I managed to remember to photograph everything we ate, so here goes…

how green is your valley?

The menu said “parsley and anchovy toast,” so I was picturing a piece of bread with a couple of slices of anchovy, maybe sprinkled with a bit of parsley. What arrived was thick, crusty (Sullivan Street Bakery?) grilled bread topped with big chlorophyllic gobs of what turned out to be one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted: fresh parsley pureed with anchovy, hot pepper and olive oil. Savory and lip-smackingly addictive. Go have some. Now. (Will be making at home, no question.)

chef april bloomfield really knows her way around a caesar salad

The Caesar salad at The Breslin—where April Bloomfield is also the chef—is one of the best around, so I had high hopes for this escarole salad with anchovy dressing. But I wasn’t expecting the tender inner leaves to be complemented by braised and smoked outer leaves. Plus the dressing rocked and the tiny crunchy breadcrumbs would make even a turd delectable.

roll with it

The waitress recommended we not skip the Parker House rolls, buttery flaky creations named for the Boston Hotel where they were invented. These were a particular favorite of my mother, so for sentimental reasons alone I had to try them. Not sure what Miriam’s excuse was. Oh, I know: It’s your birthday. A great excuse to scarf down pretty much anything. Which we did.

chorizo-&-rice-stuffed squid with smoked tomato

oyster pan roast with uni toast

I don’t like cooked oysters (boogers) and I don’t like uni (faint perfume of urine), but I would take a bath in that broth of buttery cream spiked with vermouth and tarragon.

it was all cake

You have to have dessert on your birthday, so we shared this decadent Eccles cake: a ball of flaky pastry stuffed with orange-scented currants, served atop a slice of rich and pungent Stilton. It seemed like a fantastic combination, though in truth the Stilton was so strong it rather overpowered the delicate flavors of the cake. Still, I would do it again without any qualms.

Would you believe I was back at it that same evening for dinner at Balaboosta with G, Andy and Judi?! Another recipient of a rave review in the Times. This little Middle Eastern join in Nolita knocked our socks off with an array of small plates, including falafel; divine fried olives to dip in rich, creamy labne; smoky eggplant bruschetta; fried cauliflower with raisins and pine nuts; and a wonderful pizza topped with a brilliant orange carrot puree, goat cheese and a ton of cilantro. Would you believe I skipped dessert?

Sardines are like the girl who is considered frumpy and uninteresting in high school, and then suddenly becomes a hot anchorwoman or a triathlete. Familiar but surprising. They’ve always been there, hanging out in the cupboard in their dusty can with the peeling label, but guess what? It’s time to tuck in to those silvery little fish. They’ve got game. Because they occupy the bottom of the aquatic food chain and feed solely on plankton, sardines don’t carry the high concentrations of heavy metals and contaminants that other fish can. And they’re brimming with nutrition. Not only that, they’ve got culinary cred. Gabrielle Hamilton, the chef of Prune, in New York City, serves canned sardines on Triscuits with Dijon mustard and cornichons. She swears by  the Ruby brand from Morocco. I’ve had good luck with Matiz Gallego from Spain, Angelo Parodi from Portugal and Bar Harbor from Maine. For other recommended brands, see here.

Sardines are great for your heart and your bones. They are one of the most concentrated sources of the omega-3 fatty acids EPA and DHA, which lower triglycerides and cholesterol levels. They are also an excellent source of vitamin B12, which is intricately tied to balancing levels of homocysteine (elevated levels of which are a risk factor for atherosclerosis). Sardines are rich in bone-building calcium and in vitamin D, a nutrient not so readily available in our diet, and one that we’re all supposed to be getting more of these days since it helps increase the absorption of calcium. And sardines pack a wallop of protein, which provides us with the amino acids we need to create most of our bodies’ cells and structures.

In general, sardines go well with other strong flavors, like capers, green herbs, citrus and chile. Think black olive tapenade, smoked paprika, preserved lemons or chimichurri sauce. If you’re not eating them atop a Triscuit, the canned ones can be flaked into a pasta sauce with fennel, capers, breadcrumbs and saffron; or piled atop grilled country bread with some cannelini beans and a load of parsley.

I recently made a traditional Venetian preparation with fresh sardines. (Last year, I posted this simple pasta dish.) They are quickly fried and then marinated in a sweet-&-sour dressing with saffron, raisins and pine nuts. I think Mario Batali does a version of this with Champagne vinegar and a touch of cinnamon, but let’s not get too carried away. If you’re not a sardine fan, or have never cooked them before, this is an easy and highly palatable recipe. Sort of a gateway dish.

onion, balsamic, saffron, raisin and pine nuts: what’s not to like?

dredged and ready for the frying pan

the finished dish keeps for days in the fridge, deepening in flavor

SARDE EN SAOR (VENETIAN-STYLE SARDINES)

serves 2

MARINADE

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 cup thinly sliced onions

2/3  cup balsamic vinegar

2 generous tablespoons sugar

2 tablespoons golden raisins, chopped

1 bay leaf

large pinch saffron

¼ cup pine nuts, toasted

SARDINES

6 whole fresh sardines, cleaned, gutted and scaled

all-purpose flour (I used rice flour to good effect)

olive oil, for frying

lemon wedges

Heat the oil in a sautee pan and cook the onions until they are soft and pale gold. Remove from heat and transfer to a large shallow bowl.

Combine vinegar, sugar, raisins and bay leaf in a small saucepan and crumble in saffron. Heat over low flame, stirring until sugar is dissolved, reducing slightly. Pour over onions. Stir in pine nuts.

Wash your sardines and pat dry. Salt them and lightly dredge in flour. Heat a generous amount of oil in a large skillet and, when oil is hot but not smoking, fry sardines until golden brown, about 2 minutes per side. Don’t crowd pan; fry in batches if necessary.

Place the fried sardines in the marinade and spoon it over so they are well covered.

The sardines can be eaten now, with a squeeze of lemon, alongside a simple fennel salad and grilled white polenta. Or they can continue to marinate in the refrigerator for a day or two and be served cold as part of a larger antipasto.

It’s so wonderful to be able to celebrate with friends. Nothing makes me happier than sitting down to a delicious meal with a group of pals in high spirits. If I have made the meal, so much the better. It’s a way for me to express my love, to share a little bit of myself. We had three weekend guests at our tiny cottage, and two more drove over from Stone Ridge for the evening. Because Stephanie is still watching her fat intake (like a hawk), I had to come up with a menu that was virtually fat-free yet could still satisfy all these gourmands. I don’t think anyone left the table feeling deprived.

You get so used to the richness of cooking with butter, oil, bacon and cheese—not to mention the unctuous mouth feel—that you can sometimes lose track of how easy it is to be sated by other flavors and textures. Something doesn’t have to be fried to be crispy; it doesn’t have to be laden with fat to be creamy. I’m going to give you the recipes to make the entire dinner, but do try any one of them on their own. When guests arrived, they were offered a glass of fresh citrus juice (grapefruit, orange, lemon, lime, tangerine)—perfect mixed with tequila or bourbon or prosecco, a splash of orange bitters and a sprig of fresh mint.

The first course was cream of asparagus soup, with stock made from the woody bottoms, enriched only with a bit of lowfat buttermilk. Next was whole dorade (pink snapper) stuffed with lemon, fennel and parsley and roasted under a salt crust. A dramatic but super simple preparation that you really must try. (I am going to attempt it with a chicken next.) This was accompanied by gremolata, a finely chopped mix of parsley, garlic, lemon zest and capers, bound with very litle olive oil; grilled polenta flavored with saffron and green peppercorns; and fresh peas and snowpeas tossed with preserved lemon and fresh mint. For dessert? A variation on the classic Pavlova, made with butterless lemon curd and a sauce of rhubarb, grapefuit and vanilla. I think this was missing the textural addition of some fresh berries, which I have added to the recipe below. (I would be lying if I said I wasn’t cooking most of the day, but it was relaxed and very enjoyable. I stopped midway through for a lunch with the first arrivals of red chile pork tamales steamed straight out of the freezer.) Afterwards, the limoncello and Poire Williams came out but there wasn’t a great deal of interest; too much delicious pinot grigio consumed at dinner…

Spring Asparagus Soup

serves 6

3 bunches of asparagus, woody bottoms separated

6 cups water

1/2 onion, cut into 1″ wedges

1 leek, white & light green parts sliced

2 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed

1 tablespoon lemon juice

6-7 sprigs of fresh thyme

3-4 sprigs of parsley

10 whole green peppercorns

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 cup yellow onion, sliced

2 cups sliced leeks (white & light green parts)

3 cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed

3/4 teaspoons fresh thyme leaves

2 tablespoons fresh parsley leaves, coarsely chopped

2 teaspoons yellow mustard seeds

2 teaspoons coriander seeds

2 teaspoons sea salt, or more, to taste

1/2 cup white wine

3-4 cups asparagus stock

1 cup buttermilk (lowfat is fine)

soft goat cheese

Make the asparagus stock by bringing the water to a boil in a large pot. Break or cut off the bottom 3″ of each asparagus stalk. Reserve the tip half of the stalks. Put the bottom half of the stalks in the boiling water and add the next 6 ingredients. Simmer covered for 1 hour. Strain, discarding solids, and set aside.

Melt the butter and oil together in a Dutch oven over medium-low heat. Slice the asparagus into 2″ pieces (about 5-6 cups). Throw them into the pot along with the leeks, onion, garlic, herbs and spices. Cover with a lid, reduce the heat to low and sweat at a very low simmer for about 45 minutes or until the asparagus is very soft.

Remove the lid, increase the heat to medium-low and add half the wine. Reduce until the wine is completely gone. Add the rest of the wine and reduce again.

Combine the asparagus with the stock and puree (in batches, if necessary) in a blender or food processor. Return to pot and reheat, stirring in the buttermilk. Adjust seasoning, adding more salt, freshly ground black pepper and/or lemon juice if needed.

To serve, ladle into bowls and top with 1 tablespoon of crumbled goat cheese.

Dorade Baked in Sea Salt

serves 8

6 lbs whole firm white fish – can be 1 or 2;

dorade (pink snapper) or sea bass work well

thin slices of lemon

parsley sprigs

fennel fronds

6 pounds coarse sea salt

3 egg whites

Have your fishmonger clean the fish, leaving the head and tail intact and the scales on. This helps prevent the salt from seeping into the flesh.

Preheat oven to 450 F.

Loosely stuff fish cavity with lemon slices, parsley and fennel.

Combine egg whites and sea salt in a bowl and mix well. This will not create a goopy paste but will help to bind the salt a bit.

Spread 1/3 of the salt on the bottom of a large roasting pan. Lay the fish on top. Pour remaining salt over the fish, mounding it up and covering the fish completely (the tail can remain exposed).

Bake 40-45 minutes. Remove from oven and let rest 10 minutes.

Crack open the crust with a small hammer or the heavy handle of a knife. Remove and discard the crust. With your fingers (careful!) or a pair of tongs, gently peel back and pull off the skin. Filet the top half of the fish. Pull the spine out and filet the bottom half, remembering to remove the skin from the bottom.

Serve fish with gremolata (recipe follows), lemon wedges, a pitcher of extra-virgin olive oil to drizzle on top and Maldon sea salt.

Parsley Gremolata

1 cup finely chopped parsley

2 garlic cloves, minced

Finely grated zest of 2 lemons

1 tablespoon capers

1 tablespoon olive oil

freshly ground black pepper

Stir all ingredients together.

Grilled Polenta

serves 8

2 cups lowfat buttermilk

2 cups lowfat chicken stock

1 teaspoon kosher salt

large pinch saffron

1 cup polenta

1 tablespoon green peppercorns, crushed

½ cup grated parmesan

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

Bring the milk, stock and salt to a boil. Stir in saffron. Slowly whisk in polenta. Turn heat to low and continue whisking for 5 minutes, or until polenta is smooth and creamy. Stir in peppercorns and parmesan. Spread the polenta in a 9×9 baking dish and set aside to cool.

When the polenta is quite firm, use a 3″ round cookie cutter to cut out circles. Heat oil in a heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add polenta rounds and cook until browned and crusty on one side, about 2 minutes, then flip and cook the other side another few minutes.

Two Peas with Preserved Lemon & Mint

3 cups English peas, shelled

3 cups snow peas

2 tablespoons chopped preserved lemon

3 tablespoons fresh mint chiffonade (fold a stack of mint leaves into quarters and thinly slice)

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and blanch both kinds of peas for about 3-5 minutes. Drain and toss with remaining ingredients.

PAVLOVA WITH LOWFAT LEMON CURD, RASPBERRIES

& RHUBARB-GRAPEFRUIT SYRUP

serves 8

Meringue

1 cup superfine sugar

1 tablespoon cornstarch

3 large egg whites, room temperature

3 tablespoons cold water

1 teaspoon distilled white vinegar

Preheat oven to 300ºF with rack in the middle. Trace an 8” circle on a sheet of parchment paper. Turn parchment over and place on a baking sheet.

Whisk together superfine sugar and cornstarch in a small bowl.

Using an electric mixer with the whisk attachment, beat whites and a pinch of salt at medium speed until soft peaks form. Add water (whites will loosen) and beat until whites again hold soft peaks.

Increase speed to medium-high and beat in sugar mixture 1 tablespoon at a time. After all the sugar has been added, beat 1 minute more.

Add vinegar and beat at high speed until meringue is glossy and holds stiff peaks, about 5 minutes (longer if using hand-held mixer).

Using a flexible spatula, gently spread meringue inside circle on parchment, making edge of meringue slightly higher than center (the well in the center is for the curd). Bake until meringue is pale golden and has a crust, about 45 minutes (inside will still be slightly gooey).

Turn oven off and prop door open slightly with a wooden spoon. Cool meringue in oven 1 hour.

*For best results, keep oven door closed as much as possible during baking.

While meringue is baking, make the lemon curd:

Lowfat Lemon Curd

Juice of 4 large lemons, strained

1 cup superfine sugar

4 large eggs

1 tablespoon cornstarch

8 tablespoons lemon zest

Place strained lemon juice and sugar in a small saucepan. Heat on low and stir until sugar has dissolved.

Place cornstarch in a small bowl and whisk in a few tablespoons of the lemon syrup. Then stir back into saucepan.

Lightly beat eggs in a medium bowl.

Remove lemon syrup from heat and pour slowly into beaten egg while stirring the mixture with a whisk. Continue to whisk by hand for one minute.

Return mixture to saucepan; add lemon zest, and heat on low until it thickens, about five minutes.

Remove from heat. Transfer to a container, cover surface with saran (to prevent a skin from forming), and refrigerate.

Rhubarb-Grapefruit Syrup

1 pound rhubarb, cut into ½” pieces

3/4 cup sugar

½ cup grapefruit juice

1 tablespoon cornstarch

2 tablespoons grapefruit zest

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

Place the rhubarb, sugar and grapefruit juice in a pot over medium heat. Simmer until the rhubarb is soft and then mash it as much as possible.

Pass the mixture through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl, pressing the solids with the back of a spoon to extract as much juice as possible. Return to pot over medium heat and whisk in cornstarch. Simmer to reduce and thicken. Stir in vanilla and zest. Chill.

In addition to being delicious with the Pavlova, you could also spoon this over ice cream or angel food cake. Try putting a couple of tablespoons in a tall glass with ice and filling with club soda (or prosecco)!

Toss 3 cups of fresh raspberries with a tablespoon on sugar and the juice of a lemon. Let site to macerate for 30 minutes or so.

To assemble Pavlova:

Spoon lemon curd onto center well of meringue. Mound raspberries on top. Drizzle with syrup and pass more on the side.

I never met her, nor dined at her restaurant, but I could tell from her food, and the joie de vivre that radiated from her face, that Rose Gray was a glutton for life. We lost another great one to cancer today. She was only 71. Co-owner and co-chef of London’s River Café, opened in 1987 in a converted warehouse on the Thames, she was a self-taught cook who fell in love with the cucina rustica of Northern Italy while living in Lucca. After her friend Nell Campbell invited her to run the kitchen at Nell’s, a New York hot spot in the 80s, Ms. Gray caught the bug and decided to open her own place, along with her friend Ruth Rogers (seen above), another self-taught chef.

In honor of this great lady, I include here one of her pristine recipes, a classic Sicilian pasta dish comprised of just a few ingredients. It was in simplicity that she found much of the pleasure and excitement in cooking. I hope you will, too. Eat well and raise a glass to Rose.

LINGUINE, SARDINE, SAFFRON

from River Cafe Cook Book Easy

serves 4

1 pound linguine

12 sardines

2 garlic cloves

2 tablespoons flat-leaf parsley

2 dried chiles

½ teaspoon saffron threads

Extra-virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons pine nuts

2 tablespoons raisins

1 lemon

Fillet the sardines. Peel and finely slice the garlic. Chop the parsley and crumble the chiles. Sprinkle the saffron threads over three tablespoons of hot water and let stand for 20 minutes. Soak the raisins in warm water for 20 minutes. Cut the lemon into quarters.

Heat three tablespoons of olive oil in a heavy-bottomed pan, and fry the garlic and parsley. Add the sardine fillets in one layer and fry gently for two minutes or until cooked through, spooning over the garlic and parsley. Season.

In a separate frying pan, brown the pine nuts.

Cook the linguine in boiling salted water until al dente, then drain and return to the pot. Drain the raisins and add to the pasta with the saffron. Toss to combine. Add the sardines and juices from the pan, and check the seasoning. Scatter over the pine nuts.

Serve drizzled with extra-virgin olive oil and lemon.

Have you been to Txikito yet? As its name indicates (a Basque version of  the Spanish “chiquito,” which means tiny), this Chelsea restaurant has only a few tables, and you’d be lucky to grab one on any night (or at lunch). Chefs and owners Eder Montero and Alexandra Raij turn out some wonderful regional Spanish food that takes me back to the years I spent in that beautiful country. My father was a professor of Spanish literature and, every seven years, would take his sabbatical there. I attended the 4th and 10th grades in Madrid, and went back for two semesters off when I was in college. I fell in love with the place, the people, the food, the language. Some of the dishes at Txikito work upon my memory in the way that Proust’s madeleine did his: the fat, silky white asparagus of Navarra; the crisp croquetas with their centers oozing creamed cod or chicken; the boquerones, subtly saline white anchovies; but, most of all, the ensaladilla rusa. (Little Russian salad, supposedly invented by a Russian in the late 19th century.) I used to eat this delightful version of potato salad, a classic Spanish tapa, almost every Sunday morning when I lived in Madrid in my twenties. They served it at a little café right on the edge of el rastro, the big flea market. The most outrageous punks would go there, flaunting their sky-high mohawks, tight leathers and scary piercings. I remember feeling super cool, kicking the sawdust on the floor, smoking my Marlboro reds and taking leisurely bites of this rich, creamy salad. Txiquito’s version—potatoes, peas, carrots and bits of green olive bound together with homemade mayonnaise and mounded atop a salty layer of oil-cured tuna—takes me right back there.

I recreated the recipe to the best of my ability and I think it turned out de puta madre. (That’s high praise.) It’s usually served with crusty bread, though at Txikito they offer little squat breadsticks, and at our house we ate it with rice crackers. It’s mostly just a vehicle to help you shovel it in your mouth faster. ¡Buen provecho!

ENSALADILLA RUSA

serves 2-4

2 russet potatoes, peeled and cut in thirds

1 large carrot, cut in thirds

1 cup frozen peas

2 hard-boiled eggs, diced

10 Spanish green olives (if you can find the ones marinated in anchovy oil, nab them)

1/2 cup mayonnaise, preferably homemade (make this plain version)

1 cup Spanish oil-cured tuna

roasted red pepper

Place the potatoes in a large saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat and cook until just tender enough to pierce through with a fork. Do not overcook. About five minutes before the potatoes are done, add the carrot to the boiling water, and a minute later toss in the peas.

Meanwhile, in another small saucepan, hard-boil the eggs. My method is to cover them with cold water, bring to a boil, then turn off the heat and cover the pan with a lid. Rest for about 10 minutes, then remove the eggs and run them under cold water until they are cold. Crack the shells by running the eggs over a hard surface, and peel them under cold running water. Dice as you did the potatoes.

Remove tender vegetables from heat and drain them in a colander. Rinse with cold water to stop the cooking. When cool enough to handle, chop the potatoes and carrot into 1/4″ dice. Place in bowl with the peas and refrigerate while you prepare the other ingredients.

Cut the olive meat away from the pits and roughly chop. Drain the tuna, flake it and add a little salt. Slice the roasted pepper into long, thin strips.

When the refrigerated vegetables are almost cold, remove them from the fridge, add the olives and diced  eggs, and mix in the mayonnaise. Stir well to combine and season to taste with salt.

Now take two or more small ramekins or bowls (I made this in two that were 4″ around by 2″ deep), or even one larger bowl, and press the potato salad into the bottom. Make a layer of tuna on top, pressing down well so that the salad is well compacted. Refrigerate for an hour or so.

To serve, slide a knife all the way around the edge of each ramekin or bowl and invert it onto a plate, tapping it to loosen the salad. Decorate the top with strips of red pepper (see photo) and offer some crusty bread, breadsticks or crackers alongside.

I learned about colatura di alici—an amber elixir of anchovy made around Italy’s Amalfi coast for the last 2,000 years—on Alexis Stewart’s blog, Whatever. I enjoy her posts, many of them showcasing her baking prowess (white-flour-and-sugar-laden recipes I will never use) but some filled with delicious-looking vegetarian dishes. She mentioned colatura in passing and, curious, I ordered a bottle online here. When anchovies are salted for curing, they’re layered in wooden barrels, then pressed and weighted down. From small holes in the barrels drips this salty, funky syrup—thus the word colatura, from colare, “to drip” in Italian. Somehow, although more concentrated, it’s a bit less overtly fishy than anchovies. And it’s not quite as rank or muddy as Asian fish sauce (an essential pantry item, by the way). It’s the modern version of garum, a fermented fish liquid (sometimes made from just their blood and guts) that was a sort of salt substitute in ancient Rome. The process was so smelly that production was apparently limited to outside the city walls! Like many fermented products, colatura is rich in amino acids, and of course I’ve droned on before about the benefits of fish oil. One of the easiest uses for colatura is as a simple sauce. Mix a couple of teaspoons of the stuff with a few tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil and a clove or two of crushed garlic, and use this to flavor swiss chard, broccoli rabe, escarole or potatoes. Or toss it with roasted cauliflower, raisins and pinenuts; or with a few red chile flakes and some cooked pasta, as in the recipe below. Another great way to use it is in a dressing for Caesar salad. I don’t think you’ll ever go back to mere anchovies or anchovy paste once you try this heady brew.

Slow Food International has officially declared colatura a “protected” ingredient.

LINGUINE WITH COLATURA

from Melissa Clark

serves 4-6

1 pound linguine or spaghetti

6 tablespoons colatura

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice, or more to taste

1 tablespoon packed grated lemon zest

2 teaspoons minced garlic

1/2 teaspoon crushed red chili pepper flakes, or more to taste

Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1/2 cup minced fresh parsley

Coarse sea salt, to taste

Cook pasta in salted boiling water until al dente. In a large bowl, combine colatura, lemon juice, zest, garlic, chile pepper and black pepper.

Drain pasta, and add it to bowl, tossing well. Drizzle in the olive oil and parsley, toss to combine and taste. Add salt if desired. Serve hot or at room temperature.

COLATURA “CAESAR” DRESSING

1 clove garlic, minced or smashed to a fine paste

2 egg yolks

2 teaspoon Dijon mustard

2 teaspoons colatura

2 lemons, juiced and the zest of one

2/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

1/2 cup finely grated Parmigiano Reggiano

ground black pepper, to taste

Place all the ingredients, except for the olive oil and the cheese, into a blender and process for 15-20 seconds. With the blender still running, slowly drizzle in the olive oil until the dressing is nicely emulsified. Blend in the cheese, reserving a bit to sprinkle onto the finished salad. Toss with romaine lettuce, garnish with croutons and serve.

Some people, it seems, just can’t slurp down enough soup these days. It really is the perfect thing for cold weather, a warming bowl of  comforting goodness. Below, you’ll find recipes for four, count ‘em, low-fat and nutritious soups you can whip up without any bother whatsoever. That’s all this post is about: soup. Get it while it’s hot.

I make a spicy sweet potato/yam soup with an African bent, that has peanut butter and shredded chicken stirred in, but this one is a bit more simple. It’s still rich, but the ginger and orange flavors add a welcome brightness.

ZESTY YAM SOUP
serves 4-6

2 pounds garnet yams, peeled, cut into 1/2-inch pieces

1 tablespoon maple syrup

4 tablespoons olive oil

2 large leeks, chopped (white and pale green parts only)

1 1/3 cups finely chopped celery

5 cups (or more) chicken stock

3/4 cup orange juice

2 teaspoons freshly grated ginger

2 teaspoons orange zest

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Toss cubed sweet potatoes with 2 tablespoons olive oil and maple syrup and arrange in a single layer on a large baking sheet. Roast until very tender and starting to brown, stirring occasionally, 30-45 minutes.

Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large soup pot over medium-high heat. Add leeks and celery and sautee until they begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Add roasted sweet potatoes and sautee for a few minutes. Add chicken stock and orange juice and bring mixture to a boil. Stir in ginger and orange zest. Reduce heat and simmer until everything is very tender, about 30 minutes. Remove from heat and cool slightly.

Working in batches, puree in food processor or blender, returning soup to pot. Thin with more broth, as necessary. Season to taste with salt.

This smooth lentil soup is full of warming spices. Madras curry powder is a spice mixture favored in the southern Indian state of the same name. It is nicely balanced between hot and mellow, and most often consists of a blend of curry leaves, turmeric, coriander, cumin, cinnamon, cloves, chile pepper, bay leaves, fenugreek, allspice and black pepper.

CURRIED LENTIL AND SPINACH SOUP
serves 4

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 cup chopped onion

1/2 cup chopped celery

1/2 cup chopped carrots

1 garlic clove, minced

1 1/2 teaspoons Madras-style curry powder

1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1 bay leaf

1/8 teaspoon cayenne

5 cups (or more) water

8 ounces dried lentils (about 1 1/4 cups)

1 6-ounce bag baby spinach leaves

1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro

Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium-high heat. Add onion, celery, carrots and garlic and sauté until golden, about 10 minutes. Stir in curry, ginger, cumin, bay leaf and cayenne. Add water and lentils and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer uncovered until lentils are tender, thinning with more water as necessary, about 25 minutes. Add spinach and cilantro and simmer another 5 minutes. Salt to taste. Serve topped with a spoonful of yogurt.

Evan Kleiman has been a longtime presence on the Los Angeles food scene, and hosts the radio show “Good Food” heard on NPR. She founded the original Slow Food chapter in LA and ran it for 8 years, is a best-selling cookbook author and owns Angeli Caffe, a popular Melrose Avenue restaurant that serves simple rustic food.

SPINACH & MINT SOUP

adapted from Evan Kleiman

serves 4

1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil, divided

1 1/2 cups chopped onion

1 ½ cups cooked rice

2 large garlic cloves, peeled

4 1/2 cups (or more) chicken broth

3 scallions, chopped

2 (10-ounce) packages frozen chopped spinach, thawed, drained very well

1 cup chopped fresh mint, divided

1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro

pumpkin seed oil, or fruity extra-virgin olive oil

Heat 1/4 cup oil in large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion and sauté until tender, about 8 minutes. Add rice and garlic and sauté 5 minutes. Add 4 1/2 cups broth and scallions and bring to a boil. Cover and simmer another 15 minutes. Add spinach, 3/4 cup mint, and cilantro and simmer for another couple of minutes. Remove from heat and cool slightly.

Puree in food processor or blender in batches, returning soup to same pot. Thin with more broth by 1/4 cupfuls, as desired. Salt to taste. Serve warm, drizzled with pumpkin seed or olive oil and garnished with fresh mint.

This soup is a simple version of a classic Roman dish. It cooks very quickly and has a light flavor but is full of nutrition.

FISH SOUP WITH PASTA AND BROCCOLI

serves 4

4 cups chicken broth

2 cups water

1 pound skinless flounder filet (halved crosswise if large)

1 garlic clove, minced

1 cup small shell pasta (5 ounces, use gluten-free if desired)

2 cups small broccoli florets

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice, or to taste

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, or to taste

Simmer broth and water with fish and garlic in a heavy 4-quart pot. Add pasta and simmer until al dente, about 5 minutes (fish will break apart). Add broccoli and simmer until pasta and broccoli are tender, another 2-3 minutes.

Stir in lemon juice. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve soup drizzled with oil.

photos by george billard

“Just when you think it couldn’t possibly get any better, it’s time for lunch!” That was the motto for our trip to Kerala in December 2007. A couple of months after G and I got married, we took a five-week honeymoon in India. The first two weeks were spent in southern India with our friends Lisa and Scott, part of the time on these amazing old-style boats that floated along the canals. We spent the days lazing, reading, obsessively bird-watching, and observing daily life along the water’s edge. We had our own cooks on board and we stuffed ourselves silly on their delicious regional cuisine, based largely on coconut, ginger and seafood. It’s not what you would necessarily think of as “typical” Indian food (although of course it is).

One of our favorite dishes was KFC (Kerala Fried Chicken), coated with a spicy ginger-chile-&-garlic paste and fried in coconut oil! Our boat man and main chef was Gireesh Kumar, who even has his own website of recipes. Below, I’ve given you his simple and delicious fish curry, a staple of southern Indian. Serve it with jasmine rice.