Remember that glorious tasso ham we smoked up for the latest Charcutepalooza challenge? (Read all about it here.) Well, I found a classic way to use it that really maximizes its smoky, spicy flavor. I came across a recipe for jambalaya by Chef Paul Prudhomme, the Louisiana legend whose blackened entrees were horribly bastardized by chain restaurants in the 80s. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, “jambalaya” comes from the Provençal word “jambalaia,” meaning a mish-mash or mix-up, and also a pilau (pilaf) of rice. Originally a humble combination of rice and vegetables, it has evolved into a rich expression of local New Orleans cuisine. There are two types of jambalaya: Creole, also known as “red jambalaya,” which contains tomatoes and is usually made with chicken and smoked meat; and Cajun, “brown jambalaya,” without tomatoes, which is more characteristic of southwestern Louisiana. The Creole version, which originates from New Orleans’ French quarter, was undoubtedly influenced by Spanish paella. As saffron was scarce, tomatoes were added for their vibrant color. Ultimately, Caribbean spices and the addition of tasso ham or andouille sausage make this a dish unique unto itself.

tasso ham is a misnomer since it’s actually made from pork butt (aka shoulder)

I admit I strayed a bit from the recipe because I simply cannot bear green peppers. I don’t think I’ve eaten one since about 1985 when I had my last bite of college cafeteria food. This dish did not suffer one bit without their bitter, acrid flavor. What it does have is plenty of aromatics and spice: bay leaves, thyme, sage, white and cayenne peppers, not to mention the peppery rub from the tasso.

i used basmati rice and canned tomatoes

Chef Paul suggests converted rice, but I don’t keep any Uncle Ben’s on hand. Converted rice is brown rice that has been soaked, steamed under pressure, and then dried and milled to a sort of beige color. It’s a bit less starchy than white rice and has more nutrition, but it’s not as slow-cooking as brown. Anyway, I used basmati and the same amount of liquid called for in the recipe (I actually used duck stock), and the results were beautifully fluffy (and not especially “crunchy” as specified). There’s chicken in there, and carrots and celery, but I have to tell you, it’s the tasso that really makes it. It’s got that porky,  low-country, lip-smacking taste. Maybe andouille works just as well, but as of this jambalaya, I’m a tasso convert. This dish is as easy as pie. (Why do they say that anyway? We all know pie crust is a bitch.) For jambalaya, you simply sauté a few things, then mix them up with rice and stock and pop the whole mess in the oven. When you go back an hour later, dinner’s ready. Bon temps rouler!

By the way, I love how he offers this recipe as an appetizer or a main course, and suggests you mold it into portions. What do you think would follow this as a second course? Blackened redfish?

it’s a gorgeous medley of flavors and colors

CHICKEN AND TASSO JAMBALAYA

from Chef Paul Prudhomme’s Louisiana Kitchen

serves 4 as a main course, 8 as an appetizer

Seasoning mix:

2 whole bay leaves

2 teaspoons ground red pepper (preferably cayenne)

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1 1/2 teaspoons white pepper

1 teaspoon dried thyme leaves

1/2 teaspoon black pepper

1/4 teaspoon rubbed sage

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1/2 pound chopped tasso (preferred), about 2 cups

3/4 pound boneless chicken, cut into bite-size pieces, about 2 cups

1 cup chopped onions, in all

1 cup chopped celery, in all

1 cup chopped green bell peppers, in all

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1/2 cup canned tomato sauce

1 cup peeled and chopped tomatoes

2 1/2 cups chicken stock

1 1/2 cups uncooked rice (preferably converted)

Combine the seasoning mix ingredients in small bowl and set aside.

Melt the butter in a 2-quart saucepan over high heat. Add the tasso and cook until meat starts to brown, about 3 minutes, stirring frequently. Add chicken and continue cooking until chicken is brown, about 3 to 5 minutes, stirring frequently and scraping pan bottom well. Stir in the seasoning mix and 1/2 cup each of the onions, celery, and bell peppers and the garlic. Cook until vegetables start to get tender, about 5 to 8 minutes, stirring fairly constantly and scraping pan bottom as needed. Stir in the tomato sauce and cook about 1 minute, stirring often. Stir in the remaining 1/2 cup each of the onions, celery, and bell peppers and the tomatoes. Remove from heat.

Stir in the stock and rice, mixing well. Transfer mixture to an ungreased 8”x8” baking pan. Bake uncovered in a 350° oven until rice is tender but still a bit crunchy, about 1 hour. Remove from oven. Stir well and remove bay leaves Let sit 5 minutes before serving.

To serve, mold rice in an 8-ounce cup and place 2 cups on each serving plate for a main course, or 1 cup for an appetizer.

Passover is coming up next week, and more than one person has already asked me for a good brisket recipe. It’s a classic Jewish holiday dish, especially among the Ashkenazi, perhaps simply because it’s economical and delicious. It’s also incredibly easy to make, and turns out best if you braise it, especially if you’re using a “first cut” which has less fat. Passover, for the goyim among you, commemorates the story of the Exodus, in which the Israelites were freed from slavery in Egypt. Because the Jews had to flee quickly—is there any other way?—matzoh (unleavened bread) is eaten to remind us that there was no time for the bread to rise. This does not explain why brisket, which requires such long cooking, is also on the menu. Beef jerky would really be more like it. Anyway, this recipe comes from Martha Stewart, who is most definitely not of the tribe, but knows her way around a good pot roast.

onions, garlic, chile sauce and ketchup create a rich braising liquid

I love that this is a one-pot meal—if your Dutch oven is big enough to accommodate such a large cut of meat. Mine was not, so I seared it in a big skillet and transferred it to a casserole before baking. Either way is just fine. Once it’s seared on both sides, you whisk together some strongly flavored ingredients—hot coffee, Worcestershire sauce, honey, ketchup, chile sauce, soy sauce and garlic—for a tangy, sweet/sour brew that coats the meat. I added a bunch of sliced onions to this recipe, because I like both the flavor and the body they add to the sauce. I use my own homemade ketchup (still have some left from last summer’s batch) and I encourage you to make some, or at least avoid the high-fructose-corn-syrup-laden major brands in favor of something more artisanal. I did not have chile sauce on hand, so used 1/4 cup spicy Sriracha and a few tablespoons of tomato paste. It came out a bit too hot, so I would go easy on the Sriracha. (I toned it down by adding chicken stock and some tomato sauce.)

sear the meat in a hot pan until it’s nicely browned on both sides

a tangle of onions adds flavor and texture

Once you’ve browned the meat, cook the onions in the fat, scraping up any brown bits. If you’re not using just one pot, you might want to add a splash of water to the onions so none of the good caramelized bits are left on the skillet when you change pans. Then you just lay the meat on the bed of onions, smother the whole thing in sauce, cover it (with a lid or foil) and slide it into the oven. You flip it once, and it’s done in about 3 hours. I’m going to serve mine with some sweet potato pancakes and a big green salad. A little horseradish sauce would be nice with this as well.

photo by Sarah Shatz for Food52

COFFEE-GLAZED ROASTED BRISKET

adapted from Martha Stewart

serves 6

3 pounds humanely raised beef brisket (first-cut)

sea salt and ground pepper

2 tablespoons mild olive oil

1 large yellow onion, peeled and thinly sliced

1/2 cup freshly brewed black coffee

1/2 cup ketchup

1/2 cup chile sauce

1/2 cup honey

1/3 cup Worcestershire sauce

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 tablespoon soy sauce

1 tablespoon Sriracha (hot chile sauce), optional

Preheat oven to 325º.

Season beef brisket with salt and pepper. In a large Dutch oven over high heat, warm oil. Add brisket, fat side down, and cook until well browned on both sides, 4-5 minutes each. Remove brisket to a plate, and add onions, sautéing until golden. Turn off heat and replace brisket on top of onions.

In a small bowl, combine coffee, ketchup, chile sauce, honey, Worcestershire sauce, garlic, soy sauce and Sriracha, if using. Pour over brisket.

Cover and bake in oven, flipping halfway through, until meat shreds easily with a fork, 2 ½-3 hours. Remove from oven. To serve, slice brisket the bias against the grain, drizzle with sauce and pass the extra.

SWEET POTATO PANCAKES

adapted from Jonaz on Food52

serves 5

2 3/4 pounds sweet potatoes

2 tablespoons soy sauce

3/4 cups flour (I use all-purpose gluten-free)

1 teaspoon maple syrup

1 teaspoon sea salt

1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

a combination of butter and oil, or lard, for pan-frying

Preheat oven to 325º. Roast sweet potatoes until soft, about 1 hour. Remove skin and mash, removing any dark spots.

In a large bowl use your hands to mix mashed potato with soy sauce; do not overmix, or the mixture will get too sticky to work. Add flour, sugar, salt and pepper and mix again with your hands until you a consistency that is soft, even and a bit sticky. If it is watery, add some flour. Do not overmix!

Spoon the batter into a small ziploc bag, and snip off one corner to pipe mixture through.

Heat a heavy, well-seasoned skillet over medium heat and add butter/oil or lard. Pipe 2” pancakes into the skillet, using a spatula to smooth as needed, and fry on both sides until deeply golden brown and crisp.

I ended my fast a day early—I just felt ready—and have been eating miso soup, a little quinoa and small amounts of cooked vegetables. It feels good to chew again! So in the end, my jeans are a bit looser but, more importantly, I really feel like I hit the reset button. No more sugar cravings. (Did you know that taking probiotics in the morning helps with that by boosting your body’s good bacteria?) And I am resolved to be kinder to myself in all ways; not by indulging my every whim, but by stopping to consider what I really want, on every level, and not acting on impulse. Does that make sense?

Although I am not eating any animal products yet, I wanted to offer you this easy recipe for chicken legs that I’ve had up my sleeve. It was very loosely inspired by the cooking of Suzanne Goin, who firmly believes in the benefits of marinating and the addition of chile de árbol to practically everything. It’s a simple preparation that’s ideal for a quick weeknight dinner, or to make ahead and take with you for a cold lunch.

a simple marinade of onion, thyme, red chile and vermouth kicks up the flavor

You could customize this recipe by changing the marinade to suit your mood and your pantry. Sherry, garlic and pimentón would be another good combination. Or you could go Asian by using soy, ginger and rice wine vinegar. The point is to infuse some flavor into the meat before cooking. You can either plan ahead and refrigerate your marinated legs overnight, or leave them on the countertop, covered, for four hours or so. Fifteen minutes is not going to do it; but even a couple of hours is OK.

I really like using drumsticks (or thighs) because they have the best flavor. I don’t understand people who prize white meat, especially in a preparation like this. Maybe you haven’t been cooking your chicken long enough? You don’t want to eat dark meat undercooked. It can take more heat and time than the white meat, because it’s got more fat. You simply pop these legs in the oven for about half an hour, broiling at the last minute to crisp up the skin. With a little brown rice (or not) and a salad or some cooked greens, this is dinner. Chutney or sharp mustard would not go amiss.

ROASTED DRUMSTICKS

serves 2 with leftovers

6 organic chicken drumsticks

2 dried chiles de árbol

4 sprigs thyme

1 small onion, thinly sliced

1/4 cup vermouth

sea salt and pepper

Place the chicken in a bowl or shallow dish, crumbling the chile and thyme over, then add onion, vermouth and a generous sprinkling of salt and freshly ground black pepper. Mix this all together with your hands (yes, you can) and marinate overnight in the fridge, or on the counter for up to 4 hours (but not less than 2).

Remove chicken from fridge about 30 minutes before cooking. Preheat oven to 400º. Brush marinade off chicken, discarding onion, chile and thyme. Sprinkle lightly with sea salt. Roast uncovered for 25 minutes, then broil on high until crispy and browned, about 5 more minutes.

In my quest to revisit the culinary tropes of winter one last time before the change of season, it’s time for braising. There’s nothing cozier than a pot of something bubbling gently on the stove (or in the oven) all day long, and it’s a good idea to enjoy the warm, tender, hearty results now, as they’re a far cry from what we’ll be craving when the mercury rises. So before we’re on to spring’s sweet pea risotto and asparagus soup and pickled ramps, are you sure you’ve perfected the art of the braise? It’s all about low and slow, gentle heat breaking things down and building rich, complex flavors. Turns out it’s the perfect way to cook a guinea hen (also known as guineafowl). Never had one? Tastes like chicken. Seriously, this is one gorgeous bird, with its dappled black and white feathers and tiny little head. As you can see, above, its meat is darker than a chicken’s but it’s nowhere near as assertive in flavor as a pheasant or grouse. It’s quite high in protein, but doesn’t have much fat, which makes it a great candidate for braising.

guinea hens eat garden greens and creepy-crawlers

fowl play

I had guinea hen at a friend’s place this fall, and she draped the breast with bacon before roasting it. The whole thing was as dry as leather! Simply coating a fat-deprived cut with fat does little to actually penetrate the meat. You need to baste that thing every 5 minutes, or maybe wrap it in caul fat. Or braise it! Braising calls for liquid but not total immersion. You always put the lid on the pot, so when liquid evaporates, it condenses on the lid and drips back down—a sort of low maintenance basting. Other than that, the only thing you need to remember is that browning is an essential first step for creating a flavor base. A few aromatics, liquid that can be anything from wine to water, and you’re set.

This recipe calls for bacon, but you could use a little ham or pancetta, or neither. You brown the guinea hen on all sides in fat or oil, sautee diced onion, carrot and celery, then add stock and herbs, and you’re good to go. Pop the lid on, turn the heat down low and let it simmer until the meat is falling-off-the-bones tender. I like to pull the meat off the bones, maybe let the sauce reduce down a bit, and then stir the meat back in to create a kind of ragú. This is delicious served with polenta, rice or even pasta.

polenta is a great base for any ragú

GUINEA HEN RAGÚ

serves 4

2 slices smoky bacon or equal amount pancetta, optional

3-4 pound organic, locally farmed guinea hen

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

olive oil

2 carrots, diced

1 celery stalk, diced

1 medium onion, coarsely chopped

3 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled

3 sprigs fresh thyme or rosemary, stemmed

1 cup dry red wine

1 tablespoon tomato paste

2 cups water

2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

You can either cut the guinea hen into pieces or cook it whole. Either way, season it generously with salt and pepper.

In a large Dutch oven or heavy pot, heat a tablespoon of olive oil and brown the bacon. Remove bacon from pan and brown the guinea hen on all sides. If you are not using bacon, simply brown the hen in olive oil. Remove to a plate.

Add carrots, celery, onion, garlic, herbs, a teaspoon of salt and another glug of olive oil if you need it. Cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables start to brown, about 10 minutes.

Add wine and tomato paste, stirring to dissolve paste. Bring to a boil, then add guinea hen, bacon, if using, and 2 cups of water. Turn heat down so pot gently simmers. Cover tightly and braise in oven until meat is very tender, about an hour. Meat should fork easily from bones when done. Remove pot from oven, and take guinea hen out, resting on a plate or in a bowl to cool.

When cool enough to handle, pull meat from bones in large chunks, discarding skin and bones. If you like a smoother sauce, you can puree vegetables and braising liquid in a food processor. If not, it will be a bit chunkier and looser. Return sauce and meat to pot, adding a little more water as needed and salt to taste, and bring to a low simmer. Cover and cook on lowest heat for another 30 minutes to allow flavors to meld.

Remove from heat and stir in parsley. Serve over rice, polenta or pasta, or cool and refrigerate for up to 5 days; you can also freeze this for up to 6 months.

DOUBLE BOILER POLENTA

I find this method works quite well; you don’t have to be stirring it constantly and I usually don’t have to cook it for as long as this recipe says. For creamier polenta, increase the liquid by about one-third.

3 parts liquid to 1 part cornmeal – liquid can be water, broth, buttermilk or a combination)

1 cup cornmeal yields about 4 cups polenta, which is enough for about 4 people

Have your double-boiler and a whisk handy. In a saucepan, bring the amount of liquid needed for cooking the polenta to a boil. Meanwhile, fill the bottom part of the double-boiler with water and bring to a lively simmer. Place the cornmeal in the top part. Whisk the boiling, measured liquid into the bowl, whisking until any lumps disappear. Seal the bowl with foil or a lid and set it over the simmering water. Cook 1 1/2 hours.

During the first 20 minutes, stir polenta several times. Then stir only every 20 or 30 minutes, tasting for salt. Replenish simmering water as necessary. Taste polenta for bitterness and tenderness, cooking another 30 minutes if necessary. For serving polenta soft, it can be held over hot water for up to 3 hours. Or spread the polenta in an oiled shallow pan, or in a loaf pan, cool, cover, and refrigerate up to 5 days.

Although for those of us up to our eyeballs in snow it may be hard to believe, spring will soon be upon us. Thoughts are already turning to asparagus, fiddleheads, all those tender green shoots that are the first to poke their heads up after the big sleep. With the promise of spring’s renewal at hand, I’m about to embark on a 10-day juice fast. So things around here will be decidedly less food-focused for a while (although I do have a short backlog of recipes to share with you). In the meantime, seize this final cold stretch as an opportunity to eat up the last of those roots and tubers. The tortilla española I posted about the other day is a great vehicle for potatoes, and really goes a long way. We had it warm for supper the first night, cold with salad the next day for lunch, and cut into little cubes alongside some olives to munch on before dinner with friends.

And if you still haven’t tried my recipe for roasted garnet yams—the one I was pushing over Thanksgiving—I really can’t recommend it enough. Although it’s probably not the meat-&-potatoes dish you were expecting. No hunk of shortribs plopped on a buttery puree. Even though it’s Meaty Monday, the meat here is more of an accent. The star player is the impossibly orange, irresistibly sweet and creamy garnet yam (actually a sweet potato, but let’s not quibble). Look for big, firm ones with smooth, dark russet skins; they’ve got plenty of fiber and loads of vitamins A and C.

The recipe is simple: toss cubed yams with diced pancetta, olive oil, maple syrup, red chile flakes and salt. Roast at a high temperature until caramelized and crunchy on the outside, and meltingly tender on the inside. These are equally delicious hot from the oven or at room temp. Serve them with a green salad—frisee, say, with slivers of fennel and toasted almonds, or a mess of cooked greens, like kale with garlic or spinach with pine nuts. Either way, it’s a satisfying, flavorful and wonderfully nutritious meal.

garnet yams are really sweet potatoes

pair it with crunchy salad or cooked greens

SWEET & SPICY ROASTED YAMS

serves 4

2 large garnet yams, peeled and cut into 1″ cubes

3-4 ounces pancetta, diced

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 tablespoon maple syrup

1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes

sea salt

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Combine yams and pancetta in a large bowl and toss with remaining ingredients so everything is well coated.

Spread on a foil-covered sheet pan or a large casserole. It’s important that it be in a single layer as this promotes faster cooking and better caramelization.

Roast in the oven for about 30 minutes or until nicely browned and sizzling, stirring occasionally. Enjoy warm or at room temperature.

Valentine’s Day is approaching. Do you even care? Even if you do, the last thing you’ll be planning is dinner out with your sweetie. We all know what a disaster that is, right? Surrounded by tables of clammy-handed twenty-somethings trying to express their devotion through over-priced specials at restaurants with mood lighting? No, thanks. If you want to be truly romantic, prepare a lovely meal at home. In the next couple of days, I promise to post some richly satisfying and epicuriously exciting dishes worthy of this over-hyped occasion that you can consider whipping up for your beloved(s). You might even try this one, a fairly simple, easily customizable recipe for stuffed poblano chiles, those gorgeously green and glossy creatures you’ve undoubtedly admired from afar.

looks like torture

Poblanos hail from the Mexican state of Puebla. Like the best partners, they are generally mild but can surprise you with a bit of heat. When dried, they are known as ancho chiles. The fresh ones are used for chiles rellenos, a delicious preparation in which they are stuffed with cheese, dipped in an egg batter and fried. They are also served with a delicious walnut sauce for the traditional chiles en nogada. Both of those dishes are a lot more bother than this one, which involves simply stuffing the chiles with whatever you have on hand, blobbing a bit of cheese on top and roasting them briefly with a bit of spicy sauce.

The first step, as you can see above, is charring the skin of the chiles so you can easily remove it. I simply stick them on my gas burners, turning them with tongs until they are evenly charred all over. This is painless.

you really want to blacken them all over

Then you place the charred chiles in a plastic bag, so they can steam. Leave them in there until they are cool enough to handle.

i like to think of this as a chile sauna

Then you pull off the peel. Sometimes it’s easier to do under running water. Do it gently, as you want to avoid tearing the flesh of the chile. This is a bit of an acquired skill, so don’t get all freaked out if some little bits of skin are left behind. It’s just not a big deal.

naked and ready for love

Once peeled, you make a slit up one side and remove the seeds from within the chile, leaving the stem intact. Now they’re ready to be stuffed. You can stuff them with a mixture of ground meat and rice, or just rice, or lots of chopped up vegetables, cheese or even mashed potatoes. Basically they have become a vehicle for whatever you’ve got on hand.

it’s what’s inside that counts

I used a mixture of cooked quinoa with some fresh corn I had frozen this summer, some grated carrot, a few raisins (traditional in Mexican cooking), onion, garlic and cilantro. I winged it, and so can you. Just sautee everything together until it melds into an orgy of flavor. Leftover squash, barley, tomatoes? Toss in some pine nuts or chopped almonds. Anything goes.

ready for the oven

I put mine in a small casserole, dotted them with some fresh mozzarella, and drizzled them with the remains of that can of chipotle sauce I had opened when making those bean tostadas the other day. Then I popped them in the oven at 350 until the cheese and sauce were bubbling. Beyond this, you don’t need a recipe. Make up your own. Let your freak flag fly. Put a little love into it and see what happens.

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.

photos by gluttonforlife

I was quite an amenable child where food was concerned. Aside from a mild hatred of onions in my enchiladas, the only two things I simply couldn’t stomach were meatballs and lamb. On meatball night, all my mother asked was that I eat just one, but doing so was pure, unadulterated hell. Even washing the dishes upon which those brown nuggets had been served made me gag. Literally. I’m not really prepared to believe the obvious scatalogical reference was responsible, but what else could it have been? Whatever it was, I’ve finally outgrown it. I think it was the incredible veal-and-ricotta meatballs at the old Craftbar that did it (still on the menu at the new location). The real shocker is that I now enjoy making them myself with the sweet, juicy pastured lamb we get from our friends at River Brook farm.

I like meatballs best when they’re well-seasoned and well-browned, not bland or overly dense. Duh. Almost every recipe calls for breadcrumbs, but in this gluten-free household I use nuts that I grind either in my spice grinder or with a mortar and pestle. Pine nuts or pistachios work well with lamb. They add a nice richness and also lighten up the meat. You can use any ground meat here, and create a blend of spices according to your whim. I knew I was going to serve mine with a pimentón-spiked tomato sauce I had in the freezer, so I went with garlic and some ground toasted fennel seed. But you could use Indian spices and some fresh ginger and plate them with basmati rice and raita. Or add a little saffron and pair them with a pile of garlicky spinach spiked with raisins. Or try sweet paprika and serve on a bed of buttered egg noodles. See where I’m going with this?

i toast my spices in a mini cast iron skillet

ground pine nuts and fennel seeds add a rich earthiness

place the meatballs in an oiled roasting pan

reheated in a sweet-spicy tomato sauce, these made a delicious dinner

LAMB MEATBALLS

serves 3-4 (makes about 16 meatballs)

1 pound ground pastured lamb

1/2 yellow onion, grated or minced

1 egg

1/3 cup pine nuts, ground (or substitute pistachios or fresh breadcrumbs)

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 tablespoon rosemary, finely chopped

1/2 teaspoon lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon ground toasted fennel seed

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1/4 teaspoon pepper

olive oil

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

Oil a large roasting pan and set aside.

Place the ground lamb in a bowl and add the onion, egg, pine nuts, rosemary, lemon juice, fennel, salt and pepper. Using your hands (oh, go on!), mix thoroughly. Form meatballs into 1 1/2″ – 2″ balls and place them in the oiled baking pan.

Roast meatballs for 20 minutes. You can refrigerate these and reheat them in sauce or in the oven later. You can also freeze them.

I’m a terrible friend. I’ve been horribly remiss in preparing you for the grand holiday feast. I’m (sort of) ashamed to admit that I don’t have a backlog of my own recipes and accompanying photos to offer you here, so I’m going to do another of my motley compendiums. Above is the roast leg of lamb with garlic sauce that I will be serving my sister and niece on the first night of their visit. Here’s the recipe. It looks pretty easy and, as a recent convert to lamb, I’ll be sticking my thermometer in and not trusting my own instincts. I recommend you do the same. On the side there will be a rich and buttery puree of celeriac and potato—do you really need a recipe? Oh hell, here’s one. (I think I’ll use buttermilk instead of the cream, though.) Also a simple arugula salad with a light champagne vinaigrette. For Christmas Eve dinner, we’re invited to some friends’ home for paella. I’m in charge of dessert; more on that another day. Inspired? Here’s a slew of good-looking paella recipes.

On Christmas proper, we’ll be roasting up a small, grass-fed goose we got from our friends at River Brook Farm (they don’t have a website; too busy farming). I’m going to use Lidia Bastianich’s recipe, but with apples and turnips instead of that whole weird pasta thing she’s got going on. There will be red cabbage with caraway on the side. Really, you need a recipe for that? OK, here. For dessert, I can’t wait to try this steamed molasses pudding with a rich vanilla sauce. I have a vintage pudding mold I’ve been dying to use. Fingers crossed.

photo by sara shatz for food52

Other options? Back in the day, at my mother’s house in Santa Cruz, I was known to whip up a Christmas roast beef with Yorkshire pudding. Horseradish cream on the side. It looks quite glamorous but is dead simple. And there’s something so satisfying about pouring the eggy batter into the hot fat where it sizzles and puffs into wonderful, custardy goodness. I don’t think you can go wrong with this recipe from Saveur magazine.

Another of my mother’s favorites was a crown roast of pork. It makes for an incredibly elegant and dramatic presentation, and all you really need to do is sweet-talk your butcher and then pop the thing into your oven. This recipe has you fill the roast with a lovely bread stuffing. A gorgeous chutney and a crisp salad of bitter greens would round out this meal beautifully. (For the love of god, don’t put those absurd paper frills on the ends of the bones!)

Not doing meat these days? May I humbly suggest my recipe for a whole dorade baked in a salt crust? It, too, makes for a lovely presentation and constitutes much lighter fare.

Still searching for recipes? Feel free to ask me a specific menu question and I will do my best to help out. Or surf around on the Epicurious, Food52 or Saveur sites, where there are countless creative ideas for culinary celebrations. And please, please, drop me a little line in the comments section and tell me your plans…

Cold weather means hot pots which means trips to Mitsuwa, the Japanese superstore in Edgewater, New Jersey. It’s on our way home from the city, and we take special delight in our visits there. For one thing, they have the most spectacular soft-serve ice cream in flavors like green tea and black sesame. I’m especially obsessed with the sesame, which is a murky purple color and so smoothly, sweetly seductive you could almost swoon. The enormous store contains aisles of ingredients—from produce to rice to fresh seafood—as well as kitchen tools (rice cookers), a bakery, an extensive sake selection, and several small restaurants serving udon, ramen, katsu, etc. In short, it’s tough to get out of there in a hurry. You’ll find yourself examining 10 kids of miso and 20 kinds of soy sauce. I have discovered wonderful quick-cooking brown rice; little jars of yuzu kosho and shichimi togarashi; and fresh chrysanthemum leaves. As I’ve mentioned before, I highly recommend you delve into the world of hot pots. These one-pot meals are super healthy, warming and hearty, and ideal for one or two people.

Pick up a copy of the excellent cookbook, Japanese Hot Pots, by Tadashi Ono, the talented chef at the wonderful (and gorgeous) Matsuri restaurant in Manhattan. Then head to Mitsuwa to buy a donabe and all the requisite ingredients.

I got this donabe as a gift from G last Christmas

Mitsuwa’s mind-boggling selection of sake

the meat is all ready for shabu-shabu, sukiyaki and other quick-cooking preparations

some of the packaging is quite gorgeous

Japanese “fast food” is definitely a cut above

Looking for a great way to incorporate sake into your cooking? Try this delicious recipe for an Asian take on buttery steamed mussels, infused with chile and garlic.

SAKE-STEAMED MUSSELS

serves 4

from Bon Appétit, June 2008

5 tablespoons butter, divided
2 1/2 cups chopped green onions (about 10 large)
1 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 cup sake
6 Thai bird chiles with seeds or 3 small serrano chiles with seeds, sliced crosswise into thin rounds
2 teaspoons soy sauce
3 large garlic cloves, pressed
2 1/2 pounds mussels, scrubbed, debearded

Melt 3 tablespoons butter in large pot over medium-high heat. Add green onions and sauté until beginning to soften, about 2 minutes. Add next 5 ingredients. Bring to boil. Add mussels. Cover pot and increase heat to high. Cook until mussels open, 5 to 6 minutes.

Divide mussels among bowls (discarding any mussels that do not open). Boil juices in pot to reduce slightly, about 1 minute. Whisk in remaining 2 tablespoons butter. Season sauce to taste with salt and pepper. Spoon sauce over mussels and serve with Japanese rice.