Call me crazy, but in the midst of this heat wave, when the plants themselves seemed to cry out from thirst beneath their green ultrasuede coats of pollen, I got a craving for clam chowder. I guess it was because I happened across a recipe for it on Tasting Table (“the free daily email for adventurous eaters everywhere”). Also, it’s a bit like my own Proustian madeleine, because it takes me right back to my first job as a hostess at Gilda’s seafood restaurant on the pier (or the wharf, as it was called) in Santa Cruz. I love the seafood tang against the richness of fresh cream and buttery potatoes, and the hint of salty pork. So there I was yesterday, sweat pouring off me (I had actually closed the kitchen windows in an attempt to keep out the pollen and the dust and noise of the guys working on our roof), temperatures soaring towards 100º, boiling potatoes and steaming clams. And then, you’ll never guess—the skies began to darken, the ominous rumble of thunder approached from a great distance, a breeze kicked up and suddenly it was pouring. By evening the air was clean and cool, perfect chowder weather.

i used guanciale instead of salt pork

Traditional chowders are thickened soups, often featuring seafood and/or vegetables. The New England clam version is cream-based, as opposed to Manhattan-style which has tomatoes. I don’t think I’ve ever had a really good version of the latter, so may experiment with that at some point. But my heart lies with New England clam chowder. A secret ingredient is salt pork; it adds a note of umami, rich and salty. Salt pork is really just unsmoked bacon. I didn’t have any on hand, so I used guanciale, which is cured, unsmoked pig’s jowl. You could use pancetta, and even smoked bacon wouldn’t do much harm. At the end of cooking, you pull it out so you’re not chewing on large gobs of fat; it’s really about the flavor.

little yukon golds cook up in under 15 minutes

Making a proper chowder requires a few steps, but it’s so worth it. First, you have to peel and boil the potatoes. Then you have to steam and chop the clams; make the roux (just a little butter and flour stirred together); and heat the cream. Yes, you’ll get a few pots dirty, but that first bite is nirvana.

make sure your clams can breathe; don’t store them in a sealed bag

Cherrystone clams are called for in this recipe, but they weren’t available at my fishmonger so I used a slightly larger local clam. I’m usually not a big fan of the clam. I like the flavor but that gummy chew really gets me down. For this chowder, you steam the clams and chop them up, thereby bypassing the having-to-chew-a-hockey-puck syndrome.

clam meat is kind of alien-looking; don’t stare at it up close

Serve your chowder with crunchy little oyster crackers or homemade buttermilk biscuits. From far off, you’ll hear the cry of gulls and the nostalgic moan of a foghorn.

The snow’s gone but it’s not exactly shirtsleeves weather. My idea of a good time is still hunkering down in front of the fire, or under a duvet. Soon I’ll be donning my linen overalls and running up and down the aisles of Silver Heights Nursery buying scented geranium and heirloom tomato plants. But today I’m not above a good braise. Get ‘em while it’s cold. One last chance to slowly simmer and stew, to watch those lazy bubbles and that mesmerizing cloud of steam. So put aside thoughts of spring things for the moment and haul out your lovingly broken-in Le Cresuet, your stalwart Staub. You’ve just got time for one more stew before the mercury rises. Make it oxtail, the ultimate slow-cooker. Ick, you say. How can you eat a cow’s tail? How can you not? I firmly believe you honor that cow more by making use of its every beefy bit.

beautifully marbled and full of flavor

If you’re still buying factory farmed meat, all “sanitized” and wrapped in its styrofoam tray, chances are you’ll never cross paths with an oxtail. But if you can find a small butcher purveying local, humanely-raised beef, s/he’ll mostly likely be offering you all sorts of interesting bits and bobs, like cheeks and hearts and tails.

Oxtails make a delicious, rich stew full of flavor and nutrition. They are quite fatty, so they need a slow braise and then the broth must be skimmed. It’s easiest if you prepare this dish in advance, chill it, and then remove the fat once it’s solidified. But you can also just skim it off the top in a liquid form if you don’t want to wait.

star anise and fermented black beans

This recipe is sort of an Asian hybrid. It’s reminiscent of pho, the ubiquitous Vietnamese noodle soup, but requires fewer steps, and incorporates Chinese fermented black beans. Also flavored with star anise, garlic and ginger, it delivers big, lip-smacking umami. I used these wonderful dried Vietnamese rice noodles with green tea that I found at Whole Foods. I’ve never before seen this style of dried noodle made with brown rice. A real score. They cook very quickly, just by being immersed in boiling water for one minute, so they would be great for quick stir- fries or cold noodle salads. Don’t overcook them and remember to rinse them after or they get quite sticky.

brown rice noodles

BRAISED OXTAILS WITH CHINESE GREENS

serves 2

About 2 lbs oxtail pieces (2- to 2 1/2″ thick)

2 cups chicken stock

1/2 large onion, halved and thinly sliced

1/4 cup soy sauce

3 large garlic cloves, smashed and peeled

4 whole star anise

3 (1/4-inch-thick) rounds fresh ginger

2 tablespoons dark brown sugar

1-2 tablespoons fermented black beans

6 baby bok choy

4 scallions, sliced

rice noodles

handful of cilantro, chopped

1 lime, quartered

Arrange oxtails in single layer in large, heavy pot. Add next ingredients through the beans, and enough water to cover oxtails by 1/2″; bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, partially cover, and simmer until very tender, adding more water by 1/2 cupfuls as needed to keep oxtails covered, about 3 hours. Cool slightly, then remove oxtails and set aside. Strain broth and refrigerate, uncovered, until cold, then cover. Now trim any remaining fat from the oxtails and slip meat from bones in small chunks. Discard fat and bones. At this point you can cover meat and refrigerate it, too. Meat and broth will keep like this for up to 3 days.

If you want to eat it sooner, remove broth from fridge once a layer of fat has solidified enough to be skimmed off. Once you’ve skimmed and discarded the fat, reheat broth over medium heat in a large pot, adding meat back in.

Meanwhile, fill a large bowl with boiling water and drop in two “nests” or portions of rice noodles. Let them sit until soft, about 1 minute, then drain well in a colander and rinse with cold water (or cook according to package instructions). Set aside.

Heat a large pot of salted water to boiling and cook bok choy until just tender, about 3-4 minutes. Slice and divide between two large soup bowls. Stir rice noodles into soup and warm for a minute or two. Pour broth and meat over bok choy. Sprinkle with scallions and cilantro, and add a good squeeze of lime.

I’m so tired. After more than a month, the construction on our bathroom has once again ground to a halt. It’s too excruciating to even go into the details. Suffice it to say, we have a working toilet. But no shower, no sink and no door on the bathroom. It’s been bliss to come home and sleep in our own bed for a couple of nights, but I just don’t know how this is going to work. I am beyond tantrum and into fugue state. If you think it’s hard to find a good contractor where you live, come up to the sticks and feel my pain.

Soup helps. It’s soothing and warming. Especially this delicious carrot version that I developed years ago when I was living in Los Angeles. It was originally meant to be eaten cold, but I’ve found that I also love it hot. It is very brightly flavored with sharp hits of ginger, and richly spiced. I’ve made it on the chunkier side, but I think I prefer it super-smooth and creamy. A handful of crunchy croutons on top are key to give it a bit of satisfying textural contrast. A bowl of this with a salad of roasted beets, mâche and goat cheese on the side, and you’re golden.

don’t waste the peel—compost!

a beautiful blood orange adds bright, sweet flavor

build a flavor base with shallots, garlic, ginger, chile and spices

toss cubes of bread with olive oil, fennel seeds and salt

toast them slowly in a stovetop skillet or in the oven

zest for life: the final touch

CARROT-GINGER SOUP

serves 4

3 cloves garlic, minced

2 large shallots, minced (can substitute onion)

2 tablespoons minced ginger

olive oil

1 teaspoon ground cumin

½ teaspoon red chile flakes

sea salt

6 cups roughly chopped carrots (about 2 lbs)

juice of 1 orange (blood or otherwise)

4-6 cups vegetable stock, or combination stock and water

zest of 1 orange

croutons, for serving (recipe follows)

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a stockpot or Dutch oven and sautee the garlic, shallots and ginger for a couple of minutes. Add the cumin, chile and large pinch of salt and stir, sautéing until deeply fragrant and lightly colored, another 5 minutes or so. Now add the carrots and stir to coat. Pour in 2-3 cups of stock (and/or water) and the orange juice (setting aside the zest for later). Bring to a boil, then turn the heat down and simmer, partially covered, until carrots are very soft, about 30 minutes or more. Add more stock/water as needed; there should always be liquid in the pot. While this is cooking, make the croutons (recipe below).

Once the carrots are quite soft, take off heat and allow to cool. Then puree to a velvety texture in your blender or food processor, or with an immersion blender. Add more stock or water as needed to keep things moving and to achieve the consistency you like. Pour back into your pot to re-heat. Stir in the orange zest and taste for salt. Serve hot, garnished with croutons. This soup is also delicious served cold with a dollop of crème fraîche or Greek yogurt.

CROUTONS

2 slices bread, cubed (can be stale bread or fresh, preferably with a fair amount of crumb)

2 tablespoons olive oil

½ teaspoon fennel seeds

sea salt & pepper

Thoroughly toss the bread cubes with the olive oil, fennel seeds and a couple of generous pinches of salt. Heat a cast iron or other heavy skillet over medium heat, and spread out the croutons in a single layer. Toast, flipping once or twice and being vigilant, as you want these browned but not burnt. You can also spread these on a baking sheet and toast in a 300º oven, stirring a couple of times.

Is bigger better? Surely not. But it’s nice to eat from every end of the spectrum, from the petite kishu to the gargantuan gigante bean. Though there is something to be said for the sheer meaty size of them, these creamy white beans, also known as gigandes or hija, deliver a lot of sweet flavor. Runner beans of Mediterranean origin—probably Spanish or Greek—you’ll see these on meze or antipasto plates, often coated in a dark orange tomato sauce. In Spain, they are sometimes referred to as judías, a word that also means Jews, though I couldn’t find any connection. (Speaking of which, did you see John Galliano’s drunken, anti-Semitic rant? Wonder how long Natalie Portman’s new Sofia Coppola-directed Dior spot will continue to run…) If you can’t find gigantes, you may substitute limas or any large white bean. Dried beans are a delicious source of fiber and protein at any time of year, since they are as appetizing eaten hot in a soup as they are served at room temp. But until fresh beans are coming off the vine (Happy March, by the way), the dried version can be the centerpiece of many a meal. I do enjoy them in broth, but I think my favorite way to eat beans is cooked until they are very soft and have absorbed all the liquid, drizzled with some spicy green olive oil and sprinkled with crunchy sea salt.

yet another use for my homemade pancetta

You can flavor beans any way you like; they pair beautifully with other vegetables and with a bit of smoky flavor, from bacon, pimentón or even miso. I do find that beans are almost better the next day, after the flavors have had a chance to meld. Make a big enough batch and you can eat them two days running.

stir the pot

I like to soak my beans overnight and change the water, as this makes them both easier to digest and quicker to cook. Something to remember when cooking any dried beans is to avoid adding acid of any kind until they are already tender. So don’t add any vinegar, wine, citrus juice, tomato product or anything else acidic to the cooking water until your beans are nice and soft as they will then not become beautifully tender no matter how long you cook them.

If you want to add a little extra zip to this dish, whip up some vivid green, herbal pistou, a French version of Italy’s pesto, to which you may or may not add cheese. You can really make this with any herbs you have on hand, and it’s a great little sauce to add to your repertoire, as delicious with roast chicken or eggs as it is stirred into soups or beans.

GIGANTE BEANS

serves 4

4-6 ounces pancetta or bacon (a ham hock is also nice)

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, peeled and diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 ribs celery, diced

1 large carrot, peeled and diced

½ pound dried gigante beans

1 bay leaf

1 quart chicken stock

salt to taste

Soak beans overnight in cold water to cover. Or cover with 2 inches of boiling water and soak for 4 hours minimum.

Drain beans and discard soaking liquid. In a Dutch oven or soup pot, heat olive oil and sautee pancetta or bacon until brown, then add onion, garlic, celery and carrot, stirring well and cooking until lightly browned. Add beans and bay leaf and stir to coat. Pour in stock and bring briefly to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook, partially covered, until beans are soft, about 1 hour. (Time may vary depending on your beans.) If you prefer your beans soupier, add more stock as it begins to be absorbed.

Serve beans warm or at room temperature with a drizzle of olive oil and crunchy sea salt, or a couple of spoonfuls of parsley-rosemary pistou swirled through. (Recipe follows.)

PARSLEY-ROSEMARY PISTOU

makes about 1 cup

1 cup flat leaf parsley, densely packed

1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, de-stemmed

1 tablespoon pine nuts

1 clove garlic

1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1/2 teaspoon lemon zest

2/3 cups olive oil

2 tablespoons finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, optional

Pulse the parsley, rosemary, pinenuts, garlic, salt, zest and oil in a blender or food processor. Leave it a little chunky. Stir in the cheese. Pistou should have the consistency of a loose pesto. Can be stored in the fridge for several days.

Actually, this wintry soup has none of those letter-shaped bits of pasta. This is a post-modern alphabet soup, one you can load up with vegetables that represent virtually every letter, from artichoke and broccoli to winter squash and yam. The more the merrier, basically. I’m not eating any grains or starches for a while, so I used shallots, leeks, onions, garlic, celery, fennel, carrots, mushrooms, green beans, chard and tomatoes. Potatoes, parsnips, wild rice, farro and/or pumpkin would also be lovely additions. You can make it with water, but vegetable stock—or beef or chicken—will vastly improve the flavor. I used stock made from our Christmas goose carcass! This is such an easy recipe. Throw it together in 20 minutes, let it bubble on the stove for a while and then serve it with some delicious bread. You don’t even need a salad because it’s so loaded with vegetable goodness.

i sauteed a flavor base in olive oil and then threw in all the other vegetables

canned italian tomatoes brighten the flavor and impart their brilliant color

As you may have noticed in that first photo, I added in a couple dozen tiny meatballs to poach in the soup. They really enrich the broth, but are totally optional. Another trick for adding more flavor to a soup like this is to toss in a couple of parmesan rinds. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty lazy when it comes to grating off that last hard layer right before the rind. Any time I’m done with a slab of parmesan, I put the remaining bit in a little ziploc I keep in the freezer. Most recipes say you just cook the rind in the soup for a short time and then discard it, but my secret is to leave it in until it becomes soft and chewy. I like to eat the whole thing! Try it and let me know what you think.

from my current collection of rinds

The thing to remember about this soup is that it’s very free-form. Don’t have shallots or leeks on hand? Use only onions. Want to add cauliflower? Be my guest. Beans? Sure. Pasta? OK. Bacon? Great idea. Anchovies? Just a couple. The point is to load it up with vegetables, so don’t get too distracted. You’ll notice I’m telling you to put all the vegetables in at once, not stagger them according to cooking time. This is not that kind of soup. You want to let them get soft but not dissolve into mush. When serving, a few croutons would add a nice crunch, and a generous grating of fresh parmesan or a spoonful of pesto or a drizzle of very green olive oil would all be most welcome.

WINTER VEGETABLE SOUP

serves 4-6

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 large shallot, minced

½ yellow onion, diced

1 leek, white part thinly sliced

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 tablespoon finely chopped rosemary

½ teaspoon ground toasted fennel seeds

generous pinch dried red chile flakes

1 large bay leaf

1 small fennel bulb, diced

2 carrots, peeled and diced

2 large celery ribs, diced

2 cups roughly chopped green beans

1 cup sliced mushrooms

3 large handfuls chopped swiss chard

4-5 canned plum tomatoes and 1 cup of their juice

6 cups goose stock

salt and pepper

3 parmesan rinds, optional

1-2 dozen teeny meatballs, optional

In a large, heavy stockpot or Dutch oven, heat olive oil over medium-high flame and add shallots, onions, leeks and garlic. Sautee for a few minutes and throw in a big pinch of salt, the rosemary, ground fennel, chile and bay leaf, and sautee a few minutes more. Toss in all the rest of the vegetables except the tomatoes and stir to coat them with the oil. After a few minutes, add the tomatoes, their juice, the stock or water and the parmesan rinds, if using. Simmer until vegetables are tender but not mushy, maybe 20 minutes or so. (In truth, I’ll often cook this for much longer. I don’t mind it a bit mushy.) Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper as desired. If you’re adding tiny meatballs, the time to do it is now. They will cook very quickly in the hot soup.

With all those rich roasts and braises, the patés and terrines, the confits and caramels, the puddings and petits fours, you need something tangy and vibrant to spark your palate, no? I’ve been enjoying cooling glasses of seltzer, lightly flavored with lemon-rosemary syrup. Quite a tonic. And a tart, juicy clementine can really hit the spot. I also rely on green juices to keep me honest, though I don’t suppose that’s actually a good way to kick off a holiday meal. But what about a bowl of brilliant orange carrot soup enlivened with lots of spicy ginger and a warming hint of cumin? The great thing about this soup is that you can adapt it to suit your mood and what you’ve got in your fridge. Stir in some buttermilk, or a tiny bit of cream. Add chopped jalapeño, or cilantro or dill. Got some stale bread? Make croutons to float in your soup. You can even forget the carrots and ginger and use broccoli, or potatoes, or squash. What I’m trying to say is that you can invent a fantastic vegetable soup by following a few basic steps I will lay out here for you.

cumin highlights the sweet of the carrots and the spicy fresh ginger

This is what you need to make a pureed vegetable soup:

1. Flavor base (onions, shallots, leeks, garlic, carrot, celery, etc.)

2. Vegetable (carrots, broccoli, mushrooms, parnsips, squash, etc.)

3. Liquid (stock, buttermilk, cream, water)

4. Zest (fresh or dried herbs, chiles, spices, cheese, actual citrus zest, etc.)

5. Garnish, optional (chives, toasted nuts, croutons, creme fraiche, etc.)

Is this making any sense at all?

my microplane box grater makes short work of the ginger

So, for instance, for this carrot-ginger soup, I set a large pot (I happen to love this one, a wedding gift) on the stove and sauteed some chopped leeks and shallots in a little butter and olive oil. How much? About a tablespoon of each, and a couple of handfuls of the leeks and shallots. You can build a flavor base with a dice of vegetables and aromatics, like celery and/or fennel, herbs, onions.

When they were soft and fragrant, I added lots of roughly chopped carrots–maybe 8 cups? And then I poured in about 4 cups of chicken stock. I threw in some salt, put the lid on and let that cook until the carrots were really soft.

make sure to simmer the carrots until they are very tender

Meanwhile, I grated about 2 tablespoons of ginger. When the carrots were done, I let them cool a bit and then blitzed them in batches in the cuisinart until they made a smooth but not-too-smooth puree. I poured all this back into the pot, set it over low heat and added the ginger, a teaspoon or so of ground cumin and another of ground coriander. It seemed a little thick, so I added some more stock. (But I could have added buttermilk, or water.) Then I tasted it. It needed a little more salt, and the juice from half a lemon. That brightened it up nicely.

I hope you’ll venture into the world of vegetable soups. They are so easy and so satisfying, and so healthful! Carrots are loaded with carotene, which the body converts to vitamin A. They are also an excellent source of vitamins B and C, as well as potassium, folic acid, magnesium and calcium pectate, an extraordinary pectin fiber that has been found to have cholesterol-lowering properties.

My soup is in the fridge now, and I’m going to pull it out and serve it to my niece and sister when they arrive tomorrow. They’re taking the red-eye and we’re picking them up at JFK, so we’ll all be ready for something cleansing and nourishing. I’ve got a round loaf of cornbread ready to pop in the oven and I’m thinking this will make for a pretty sweet welcome.

photo by Sarah Shatz for Food52

It’s the day after and I’m a woman of few words. But I can’t leave you hanging with all that turkey on your hands. Hopefully you did not, in a fit of weary pique, discard the carcass. There’s soup in there! How about a delicious, soothing and very clean take on pho, the Vietnamese soup usually made with beef. Here’s a winning recipe made with leftover turkey from WinnieAb on Food52. It does a body good.

Or, check out my guest post for turkey tamales on UK site debate your plate. It’s a great project for all those lazy, whining people you have hanging around your house. And the results are delicious!

And last, but never least, here’s Martha’s recipe for turkey banh mi, full of crisp, refreshing vegetables and tangy, spicy flavors. What’s with the ethnic theme? Guess I’ve had it up to here with classic American for the moment. Enjoy your naps…

a hot pink watermelon radish

I don’t want to harsh your mellow, and I do know that Thanksgiving is a special day, a time to throw caution to the wind and loosen your belt, but I just read that “more than half of Americans will have diabetes or be prediabetic by 2020, at a cost to the US health care system of $3.35 trillion, if current trends continue unabated.” Staggering, no? What trends does this refer to? Too much processed food, too much sugar, too much fat. So I’d like you to reconsider all those cream-laden dips and greasy chips that seem to be so popular for snacking on before the big turkey feast. All those cheese plates and fistfuls of roasted nuts that go so well with the wine and cocktails you’ll inevitably be knocking back. Look, I’m no killjoy. I want you to indulge! But I also want you alive and healthy and fitting into your skinny jeans. So ponder some of these options, starting with a plate of fresh, crunchy, spicy watermelon radishes—in season now!—irresistible when sprinkled with some Maldon sea salt and maybe drizzled with a little green olive oil. That’s a great way to really wake up your palate.

a little cup of butternut squash soup is so chic

I believe I already suggested you pass mugs or little vintage tea cups of soup to all those hungry people hanging around the kitchen. Try this smoky, cheesy celeriac soup; or this spicy yam soup with a sweet hit of peanut butter; or this butternut squash soup (but leave out the cream and substitute a little tangy feta for the garnish).

Prefer something more cool and refreshing? Let your guests help themselves to a bowl of this delicious Brussels sprout salad, tangy with red onion and sharp pecorino.

Insisting on a dip? Here’s a recipe for one of my favorites, a highly flavorful combination of walnuts and roasted garlic, from the former Lever House. Serve it like they did, with a soft flatbread, or with breadsticks, fennel and carrots.

LEVER HOUSE WALNUT AND GARLIC TAPENADE

makes about 1 ½ cups

5 cloves garlic confit (recipe follows)

1 cup walnut pieces

1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

2/3 cup mild olive oil

sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper

2 teaspoons fresh chervil or Italian parsley leaves

1 teaspoon fresh marjoram or oregano leaves

Combine the roasted garlic, walnuts, and vinegar in a food processor and pulse several times to make a coarse paste. Alternatively, the tapenade can be made by hand in a large mortar and pestle, with some elbow grease.

Slowly drizzle in the oil and pulse a few more times to emulsify. Season with salt and pepper. Fold in the herbs by hand. The walnut and garlic tapenade may be served immediately or covered and refrigerated for up to a week. Bring the tapenade to room temperature before serving.

ROASTED GARLIC CONFIT

1 cup peeled garlic cloves

olive oil, to cover the garlic (about 2 cups)

Preheat the oven to 325F.

Put the garlic cloves in a single layer in a small baking pan. Pour in enough oil to cover the garlic completely. Cover the pan tightly with aluminum foil and bake for 30 minutes or until the cloves are soft. If they’re not quite done after 30 minutes, continue to cook, checking at five-minute intervals, until the garlic is creamy and completely tender. Be sure that the garlic does not brown or, worse, burn. Cool the roasted garlic in the oil before straining.

Feel you must offer something spreadable? How about my wildcard-winning recipe for Tuscan Chicken Liver? It was chosen during last year’s Food52 competition, will be published in their first cookbook and was also included this week among their top-10 picks for holiday starters. It’s not like grandma’s but—dare I say it?—it may be better. Enriched with wine, capers, anchovy, sage and parmigiano, this is seriously addictive. (Please source your chicken livers wisely.)

better than bubbe’s?

OK, OK, you say you have to offer something truly decadent? I’ve got a real flavor bomb for you. Just don’t let anyone eat more than a couple of these babies. Even though they’re far better for you than Lay’s with onion dip, there’s a reason they’re called Devils on Horseback.

gotta date?

These cheese-stuffed, bacon-wrapped dates explode in your mouth with the perfect balance of sweet, salty, umami, creamy and crunchy. Some people substitute an almond for the cheese, and they’re pretty good like that, too. Popular at swank cocktail parties in the ’60s, these have enjoyed quite a comeback, including appearing on the menu at AOC, Suzanne Goin’s tapas-style restaurant in Los Angeles.

DEVILS ON HORSEBACK

(Bacon-Wrapped, Cheese-Stuffed Dates)

serves 10

20 1 x 1/4″ sticks Parmigiano-Reggiano

20 pitted dates (preferably Medjool)

7 bacon slices, cut crosswise into thirds

20 wooden toothpicks

Place oven rack in middle position and preheat oven to 450°F.

Stuff 1 piece of cheese into each date, then wrap 1 piece of bacon around each date, securing it with a pick. Arrange dates 1 inch apart in a shallow baking pan covered with foil.

Bake 5 minutes, then turn dates over with tongs and bake until bacon is crisp, 5 to 6 minutes more. Drain on a paper bag or parchment. Serve immediately, but warn guests that these are molten inside and to proceed with caution!

Here come the holidays and, with them, your family. Bickering, sibling rivalry, old grudges and the rapid backslide into childhood habits are mitigated by unconditional love and unlimited quantities of sugar and fat. Both my parents are dead, so I have absolutely no chance of recreating that perfect Rockwellian moment. Because I went to college so far from home, I have been glomming onto other people’s Thanksgiving celebrations since I was 17 anyway. Now I am a part of G’s family, and this year, along with his chef-in-training sister, I am responsible for the turkey. His mother has passed the torch. It’s a big responsibility, but not one that can totally distract from the issue of side dishes. I suppose there are some families out there who are wildly experimental with their Thanksgiving menu, trying that mole sauce with the turkey one year, stirring coconut milk and chiles into their sweet potatoes, maybe even passing a post-prandial doobie. But it seems that, for the most part, people really like to stick with TRADITION, even if it means that repellent green bean casserole topped with canned onions. Or having both sweet potatoes and mashed potatoes. The root vegetable is really very popular at this meal, and rightly so. Its earthy sweetness is the essence of comfort food. Scroll down on this post to find my recipe for spicy-sweet garnet yams (no marshmallows, please), cubed and blitzed in the oven along with some pancetta while the turkey is being carved. And keep reading to discover the very best mashed potatoes ever, trust me on this.

Why are they so good? I think it has to do with the fact that you wrap them in foil and bake them, rather than boiling them. They are much drier and sweeter. I’ve also posted a recipe for a delicious sherry-spiked gravy that has nothing to do with roasting a turkey, so you can make it any time. (Dripping-related gravy recipe to follow later this week, or next.)

why not serve a mug of soup to warm things up?

You know how everyone likes to root around in the kitchen while the cooking is going on, or they’re out in front of the game scarfing down appetite-ruining portions of cheese and industrial dips? Maybe this year you’d like to whizz up a batch of celeriac soup—rich and creamy, yes, but a real vegetable and not so prone to clog the arteries. There’s this recipe, but you could also make a lighter variation, boiling a peeled and cubed root or two until tender, then pureeing it with some buttermilk and a couple of tablespoons of light cream cheese, and thinning it with a little of the boiling water as needed. Garnish with some toasted pepitas or chopped walnuts for crunch, and sprinkle with a generous dash of cayenne, spicy pimentón or aleppo pepper, as above. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

CLASSIC MASHED POTATOES

serves 4

2 pounds russet potatoes

1 cup whole milk

1/2 stick unsalted butter

1 teaspoon sea salt

1/4 teaspoon ground white pepper

Preheat oven to 425°F.

Wrap each potato in foil, then prick several times with a fork. Bake until tender, about 60-75 minutes.

Heat milk, butter, salt and white pepper in a large, heavy saucepan over moderate heat until butter is melted.

Meanwhile, unwrap potatoes and slip off skins with a knife (protect your hands!). Discard skins.

With a ricer, force hot potatoes into the pan of hot milk and stir until well combined. Taste and add more salt or pepper, as needed.

SHERRY-SPIKED GRAVY

makes about 2 cups

2 slices bacon, chopped

1 cup chopped mushrooms (shiitakes are good)

1 cup shallots, chopped

1 clove garlic, smashed

1 sprig thyme

1 heaping tablespoon flour

1/4 cup dry red wine

1 1/2 cup chicken stock (or any defatted meat/poultry stock)

2 tablespoons dry sherry

Sauté bacon in large saucepan over medium heat until crisp. Increase heat to medium-high. Add mushrooms, shallots, garlic and thyme and sauté until tender, about 5 minutes.

Reduce heat, add flour and stir briefly. Add wine, scraping bottom of pan. Stir in chicken stock. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until gravy thickens, about 10 minutes.

Remove from heat, cool slightly, and then puree in food processor until very smooth. If you’re feeling butch, push it through a fine strainer (or not).

Transfer back to saucepan and warm over medium heat. Stir in sherry. Taste and adjust seasoning, as needed.

This seductive soup is pronounced “fuh,” like the word for fire in French. I had wanted to post a gorgeous “pho”-to of a big, steaming bowl of it, but we ate the entire pot before I got the chance. So instead, here’s one of a woman in the market in Saigon scarfing down this wonderful national dish. Pho is traditionally eaten for breakfast in Vietnam, but it goes down like a charm for lunch and dinner, too. It’s great stuff for cold weather eating, but that doesn’t prevent South East Asians from having it in the raging heat. A rich but clear beef broth, infused with star anise, clove, cinnamon and ginger, it is traditionally served with slices of raw sirloin, shallots, bean sprouts, cilantro, Thai basil, mint, lots of slippery, chewy rice noodles, a squeeze of lime and maybe some chile. It’s not so complicated; mostly, it just takes time. I love how you char ginger and onions directly over the flame of your burner; it imparts just a hint of smokiness that is very reminiscent of outdoor cooking in Asia. As with all stocks, you make this ahead so you can skim off the fat, and it’s quite a healthful and nourishing dish because of the good nutrition from bones. Of course, I urge you to make this with meat from a happy cow, please. For its sake, and for yours.

enormous knuckle bones, short ribs and tendon made an incredibly rich stock

The recipe I use is from one of my very favorite cookbooks, and a fantastic one to start with if you have any interest in learning to cook Southeast Asian food. It’s Hot Sour Salty Sweet by Naomi Duguid and Jeffrey Alford. It follows their journey through the Mekong region that extends from China through Laos and Thailand to Cambodia and Vietnam. Gorgeous photos and wonderful recipes, many of them quite simple and straightforward. They replicate a lot of street food and home cooking recipes which, as you may know, is some of the best eating anywhere. I didn’t have some of the ingredients on hand, so I ended up making the broth from knuckle bones, short ribs and tendon, and serving it without the raw beef or the bean sprouts, and it was still plenty delicious. Feel free to improvise on this as would any home cook worth her salt.

HEARTY VIETNAMESE BEEF NOODLE SOUP (PHO BO)

from Hot Sour Salty Sweet

yields 3 quarts broth; serves 6 to 8

SOUP

5 pounds oxtails or beef short ribs

6 quarts water

5 star anise

One 2-inch cinnamon stick

5 cloves

1 teaspoon black peppercorns

2- to 3-inch piece (about 2 ounces) ginger

2 medium onions, cut in half

1 pound stewing beef, trimmed of excess fat

5 tablespoons Vietnamese or Thai fish sauce, or to taste

Salt to taste

1 pound thin or medium dried rice noodles, soaked in warm water for 15 minutes and drained

GARNISH AND ACCOMPANIMENTS

2 cups bean sprouts, rinsed

1 pound eye of round or other boneless lean beef, very thinly sliced across the grain into 1- to 2-inch-long slices

½ cup Asian basil or sweet basil leaves

½ cup coriander leaves

3 shallots, thinly sliced

1 or 2 bird or serrano chiles, minced

lime wedges

salt & pepper

Place the oxtails or ribs in a large pot, cover with cold water, and bring to a boil. Boil vigorously for 5 minutes, then drain. Rinse out the pot well, rinse off the oxtails or ribs and place back in the pot.

Add 4 quarts of the water and bring to a boil. Add the star anise, cinnamon stick, cloves, and peppercorns. Using tongs, char the ginger over a gas flame, then add to the pot; use the same method to char the onion pieces, then add to the pot. Alternatively, heat a heavy skillet over high heat, add the ginger and onion pieces, and scorch well on all sides before adding to the pot.

Let the broth boil gently, uncovered, skimming off foam and scum, for about 30 minutes. Add the remaining 2 quarts water, bring back to the boil, and continue to boil gently, skimming off foam. When foam has stopped rising to the surface, lower the heat to medium-low and simmer for another hour.

Add the stewing beef and fish sauce, bring back to a boil, and simmer, uncovered, until the meat is very tender, about 2 hours. Leaving the soup at a simmer, remove the stewing beef and cool slightly. Slice as thin as possible and set aside.

Remove the soup from the heat and remove and discard the bones and solids. For a traditionally clear broth, line a colander with a double layer of cheesecloth and strain the soup into a clean bowl. Let the stock cool, then refrigerate, covered, for at least 2 hours.

Skim off the layer of fat from the top of the stock and discard. (The soup can be made ahead to this point and stored in the refrigerator, beef and stock in separate well-sealed containers, for up to 2 days, or frozen for up to 1 month.)

About 20 minutes before you wish to serve the soup, remove the meat and stock from the refrigerator and set the meat aside. Transfer the stock to a pot and heat until warm. Strain through cheesecloth as described above (GFL: I skipped this step and it was totally fine), return to the pot, and bring to a boil. Taste for seasonings and add fish sauce or salt as desired, then simmer gently, half covered, while you prepare the accompaniments.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Drop in the rice noodles and cook until just tender but not mushy, 30 seconds to 1 minute.

Transfer to a colander, rinse with cold water, and set aside. Blanch the bean sprouts briefly in the same boiling water, then set aside.

Provide each guest with a spoon and a pair of chopsticks. Set out the raw beef, along with small dishes of the herbs, shallots, bean sprouts, lime, and sliced chile. Offer salt and pepper as well.

To serve, divide the noodles among 6 to 8 large bowls. Top each serving with a generous pinch of bean sprouts, a few shallot slices, several basil leaves, slices of cooked beef, and slices of raw beef.

Ladle the hot broth over and sprinkle with the coriander.