V8 Soup

Two nights ago, I gave a small dinner party at my house.  Although the style of my cooking has become rather simple, the aggregate of dishes and the worry behind cooking for the man who is writing Julia Child's newest biography (to coincide with her 100th birthday next year) and the general manager of what-will-surely be one of New York's hippest hotels, the Hotel Williamsburg (in Williamsburg!), the pressure was on.  Along with their wives, we were a group of six, chatting about world events, the mystery of Mustique, how courses on the Beatles have became mainstream in American colleges (our guest Bob also wrote the definitive book on the Beatles), and the journey of finding a chef for the hippest new hotel in New York.  We sipped those apple ginger-pear martinis I keep talking about, ate white hummus, and "devilled pecans" and tried to guess what-the-heck was in the tea cup I served in the living room before sitting down to dinner. More about that in a moment.  Dinner began with a dish of "tiradito" the Peruvian equivalent of sashimi but with a shimmering sauce of lemon, garlic and oil.  It was accompanied by a tiny timbale of potato salad vinaigrette, a handful of lightly dressed arugula and bits of radicchio (remember when that was exotic?) and a drizzle of beet vinaigrette. The main course was "My Opinionated Way to Roast a Chicken!" with (a foaming chive-garlic butter sauce), Moroccan carrot puree, steamed spinach and a roasted garlic custard.  Dessert?  A slice of my Venetian Wine Cake (with rosemary, red wine and olive oil -- and it is the ONLY recipe I don't divulge), with lemon-buttermilk sorbet, pineapple flan and creme fraiche.  To drink?  Rose champagne with the first course and a bottle of almost-impossible-to-find Freemark Abbey Cabernet Sauvignon 1986 with the chicken. But the real intrigue centered around the soup in the tea cup.  I called it "Tomato-Anisette Cappuccino."   Dearly loved, everyone took a guess at identifying its ingredients.  But no one would ever make a soup from V8 juice, anisette, and fish sauce, but me.  It was topped with salted whipped cream and snippets of fresh tarragon.  And it takes only five minutes to make.

Tomato-Anisette Cappuccino You can make this with "original" or spicy V8.  If using the original, you might want to add a few splashes of chipotle Tabasco for more intrigue.

1/2 cup heavy cream 4 cups V8 (or other tomato-vegetable juice cocktail) 1/4 cup anisette liqueur 1 teaspoon Thai fish sauce snippets of fresh tarragon for garnish

Using a wire whisk, whip the cream with a large pinch of salt until thick but not stiff. Set aside.  Put the V8 in a large saucepan.  Bring to boil, lower heat to medium and add the anisette.  Simmer for 3 minutes.  Stir in the fish sauce, salt, pepper and hot sauce, if using.  Pour into soup cups and top with whipped cream and tarragon. Serves 4 to 6

Note:  And speaking of fish sauce, tomorrow morning I will give you the world's simplest recipe for fabulous "devilled pecans" -- perfect for Super Bowl munching. Make sure you have Thai fish sauce, pecan halves, and sweet butter at the ready.

Super Bowls and Super Bowl

Breaking News:  If you go to facebook.com/lenox and click on the "cooking" tab, you will see that I have a new relationship...with Lenox!  That fabulous all-American tabletop company has decided to join the food revolution and chose me as their culinary consultant.  I'm honored and very excited by the project.  Lenox has been a part of my family's viewable treasures since I was a young girl.  Whether it was a porcelain swan that my mother used for displaying good chocolates or a small vase tipped with gold that was simply on display, Lenox China was one of those upscale, yet comforting brands that continued to stand the test of time.  Only now their product line includes some of the hippest stuff I've seen in a long time.  After writing 12 cookbooks, most of them with photographs of food and the plates upon which it is presented, I am familiar with many tablewares on the market.  I am in love with Lenox's new sushi sets -- stark-white rectangular plates that come with a tiny bowl for soy sauce and...silver chopsticks!  What bride wouldn't want a dozen of those?  I am using my new white cereal bowls from their Tin Can Alley line with great pleasure, and am totally enamored with their newest line, designed by Donna Karan.   My first assignment was to create a Super Bowl party!  You can view the menu and get all the recipes for this coming-Sunday's game. The menu includes the Apple-Ginger-Pear Martinis (referenced here yesterday), Espresso Bean Chili with all the fixin's, Shrimp Veracruz with brown rice, corn and olives (with a radically simple sauce made by emulsifying jarred salsa with olive oil and fresh lime!), and the most succulent Chicken Wings made with rosemary, lemon and garlic.  Addictive!   Also included in February's food line-up is a menu for the Bridal Registry -- featuring a dinner that both bride and-groom-to-be can enjoy.  No longer are the decision makers only women these days. Guys, too, have strong ideas about what china, glassware and accessories they want.  And you'll notice that my approach skews both traditional and non-traditional -- with ideas such as serving an elegant onion soup with apple cider and thyme in a coffee cup, or serving Chocolate Pousse (somewhere between a pudding and mousse) in a tall, graceful wine glass. Enjoy the recipes from my Super Bowl party!  I hope your team wins.

I Wonder Who's Drinking My Vodka

A few days ago, after a nice enough brunch at Char No. 4 in Brooklyn, I bought a bottle of vodka. Not to replicate the Bloody Mary served at Char -- they make theirs with bourbon and it's great! -- but to test yet another recipe. I had concocted a formula for apple-ginger-pear martinis that made their way into my new cookbook Radically Simple (they take only five minutes to make!), but I needed a hip summer libation for a new project.  My idea was to use hibiscus tea as a base and go from there. After choosing a bottle of pretty cheap vodka in a local liquor store (it still cost $21.00), I sat with it, and my family, in the back of a car service.  It sloshed around as the car moved rapidly through the icy slush from the Heights to the Slope.  So eager to start "cocktail-ing," I high-tailed it to my kitchen and went right for the ice cubes.  "Oh no," I sighed.  "I left the booze in the back seat."  "Someone in New York will soon be drinking my vodka." If it happens to be you (!), here is the recipe for the quite-addictive apple-ginger-pear martinis.  Make them by the pitcher so that you don't need to be shaking and stirring when your guests arrive.  As for the martini made with hibiscus tea, simple syrup, fresh ginger, and lime, I decided to use GIN instead.  Blessings to my husband who reluctantly parted with a few shots of his beloved Old Raj.  It's one of the most expensive on the market -- and definitely one of the best.  Cheers!

Apple-Ginger-Pear Martinis

1-1/2 cups pear nectar (Goya makes a decent one) 2-1/2 cups apple juice 4 limes 4 teaspoons honey* 1-1/4 cups vodka 4-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled

Stir the pear nectar and apple juice together in a pitcher.  Squeeze 6 tablespoons lime juice into the pitcher.  Add the honey and stir until it dissolves. Stir in the vodka.  Grate the ginger on the large holes of a box grater.  Place the grated ginger in a paper towel and squeeze to extract 1 tablespoon juice; add to the pitcher. Stir, cover, and refrigerate until very cold.  Pour into chilled martini glasses or serve over ice.  Garnish with a slice of lime.  Serves 6

*Read yesterday's blog about honey and the upcoming bee event at Stone Barns, just in case you missed it!

Dr. Bee

Honey is the food of bees.  This coming Sunday, at the revered, sustainable eco-food complex Stone Barns (where chef Dan Barber is king), there will be a wonderful talk about bees and an equally wonderful honey tasting.  Led by urbane, urban beekeeper Dale Bellisfield, RN, CH (a noted clinical herbalist and medical practitioner), we (I will be there!) will learn about the medical uses of honey and be guided in the tasting of multiple varieties in a program called Bee M.D.  Honey, in all its glory, from bits of real honeycomb, to the connoisseurship of more than 300 varieties (and perhaps as many as 650 distinct types), is on the hit parade of trends this year. The exploitation of its flavor profiles is slowly becoming part of the new menu language and will soon rival chocolate, or wine, in esoteric discussions of provenance and pedigree.  I, for one, am crazy about wild thyme honey from Sicily, leatherwood honey from Australia, buckwheat honey (in very small doses), and the linden honey I once sampled from Ms. Bellisfield's own hives.  I use it sparingly in my cooking but love its primal uses:  drizzled over pungent blue cheese, stirred into homemade labneh, tossed with blackberries and mint, or dissolved into a bourbon sour.

Honey is an entirely natural food, made up of natural sugars, pollen, protein, minerals and amino acids and, it has a long history.  Cave paintings in Spain depict the practice of beekeeping more than 7000 years ago, and many sources, both cultural and folkloric, demonstrate its use in medicinal and religious practices.  This "food of the Gods" is made by bees using nectar from flowers -- whose flavor, aroma and color can differ dramatically depending on the flowers that the nectar was collected from.  Ergo, there are as many flavors of honey in the world as exists combinations of blossoms in bloom at the same time.  There is major interest right now in single varieties -- such as lavender, acacia, or pine -- and there is much attention given to "fair trade honey."  Much to learn.   See you at Stone Barns.  To sign up go to www.stonebarnscenter.org/bee-md.

In the meantime, here is a favorite recipe of  mine using honey in an unexpected way.  Adapted from Radically Simple: Brilliant Flavors with Breathtaking Ease.

Cappellini with Spicy Fish Sauce Marinara Lemon, fresh ginger, Thai fish sauce, and honey, coalesce into an exceptional marriage of flavors in this quick pasta sauce.  It can double as a fabulous adornment for grilled fish and steak -- just swirl 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter into the finished sauce.

28-ounce can whole tomatoes in puree 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 1 tablespoon aromatic honey 2 teaspoons Thai fish sauce 3 large garlic cloves 1 lemon slice, about 1/4-inch thick 2 nickel-size pieces peeled fresh ginger 1/4 teaspoon hot pepper flakes 12 ounces fresh cappellini

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.  Combine the tomatoes and puree, oil, honey, fish sauce, garlic, lemon, ginger, and pepper flakes in a food processor.  Process until very smooth.  Transfer to a large saucepan and bring to a boil.  Reduce the heat to medium and cook until thick, 8 minutes.  Cook the pasta 1 to 2 minutes until tender. Drain well and shake dry.  Transfer to bowls and spoon the sauce on top.  Grated parmigiano-reggiano, optional.  Serves 4

iMac2

As promised, here is another recipe for macaroni and cheese.  This is an unusual version and healthier than most.  It is also prettier.  This mac-and-cheese is studded with surprise nuggets of cauliflower and its gorgeous bright orange sauce is made from cooked red bell peppers and garlic that get pureed together until silky.  My daughter and her friends like making it because is looks like it's oozing with cheese, but it has much less fat and is more nutritious than the more familiar stuff.  The secret is to use a very sharp yellow cheddar, artisanal if possible.  For dinner, you might partner it with a garlic-and-smoked paprika-rubbed rib-eye steak and open a bottle of shiraz.  Or if you feel like keeping-it-healthy, simply serve with a salad for a radically wonderful weekend lunch. Mac-and-Cheese with Cauliflower and Creamy Red Pepper Sauce 5 ounces very sharp yellow cheddar cheese 2 medium red bell peppers, about 12 ounces 3 large garlic cloves, peeled 1 tablespoon unsalted butter 1 teaspoon honey 1/8 teaspoon chipotle chili powder 8 ounces ziti or penne rigate or elbow macaroni 5 cups small cauliflower florets 3 tablespoons finely chopped chives

Shred the cheese on the large holes of a box grater and set aside.  Cut the peppers in half and remove seeds.  Cut into 1-inch pieces and put in a small saucepan with 1/2 cup water.  Cut the garlic in half, lengthwise and add to saucepan.  Bring to a boil, lower the heat to medium-low. Cover and cook for 15 minutes or until the peppers are very soft.  Transfer the contents of the saucepan, including the water, to a food processor or blender.  Add the butter, honey, chili powder, and salt to taste and process until very smooth.  Return to the saucepan.   Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.  Add the pasta and cauliflower and cook 12 minutes or until tender.  Drain well and shake until completely dry.  Transfer to a large bowl.  Heat the sauce and pour it over the pasta.  Add the cheese and stir well.  Add salt to taste and sprinkle with chives.  Serves 6

iMac-and-Cheese

Most kids grew up eating Kraft macaroni and cheese and I suppose I had my share.  But my real comfort came from the loving hands of my beautiful Hungarian mother, Marion, who made me cabbage and noodles, instead. Just yesterday, I was given, and then duly paid for, a book by my 8-year old neighbor, Diego.  He wrote FOOD: It's Good Stuff, with a bunch of friends.  It's chock-a-block with illustrations and recipes galore.  One of my favorites -- shark's fin soup -- begins with a whale.  Not everyone has thought of that!  The book is $6.50 ($7.50) if you live in Canada and I'm sure I could get you a copy.  Complete with recipes for ice cream sundaes, "hide-and-seek," and "the crunch of a salad," it is witty and fun.  And, it's a bestselling book!  It says so right on the cover. Yet despite a reference to Steve Jobs and the new iMac with a 3D camera, there is no recipe for mac-and-cheese.  So, here are two complimentary entries (or entrees!) for their next edition.  One of the most radically simple recipes ever created is adapted from my book called Kids Cook 1-2-3.  The second version, comes from Eat Fresh Food: Awesome Recipes for Teen Chefs (both published by Bloomsbury) -- will be available on this site tomorrow.   Dedicated to Diego, today's recipe is now called iMac-and-Cheese.  I hope he enjoys it.

iMac-and-Cheese Due to a surfeit of American cheese in my fridge, I invented this version of everyone's favorite recipe.  You can use familiar elbow macaroni or the less familiar shape called campanelle ("little bells").  If you want this even cheesier, just melt a few more slices of cheese!  If you're a daring kind of kid, you can top it with freshly chopped chives.

4 ounces elbow macaroni 4 ounces American cheese, about 7 slices 1 tablespoon unsalted butter

Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil.  Add the pasta and cook for about 10 minutes, until just tender.  Meanwhile, put 1/4 cup water and the cheese in a medium size saucepan.  Bring just to a boil.  Immediately lower the heat to medium and stir with a wooden spoon until the cheese melts, about 3  minutes.  Add the butter and continue to stir for 1 minute, or until you have a smooth sauce.  Put a colander in the sink and drain the pasta.  Return the pasta to the large saucepan and stir into the cheese mixture.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Stir gently while reheating the pasta.  Serves 2 or 3

Fab Time at Whole Foods

Last night I taught a cooking class at Whole Foods on the Bowery -- the home of a wonderfully compact, but ample, Culinary Center -- equipped with most anything a cook could want (more about that later) and two amazing assistants, Wai Chu and Min Liao.  Wai is an accomplished chef who wrote the definitive book on Asian dumplings, and Min, too, knows her way around a kitchen better than most.  I don't teach often -- after 12 books -- and many such lessons, I choose one venue when a new book comes out.  This time the class was based on Radically Simple: Brilliant Flavors with Breathtaking Ease -- the goal was to demonstrate how restaurant-quality food could be made simply at home -- and in 140 words or fewer!   But as such experiences go, I made a 6-course dinner for a sold-out crowd -- 25 in all, including the lovely person from "Mobile Libris" who came to sell books. I arrived at Whole Foods at 3:45 p.m. and got home at 9:45 p.m.

The menu?  First we played a guessing game.  I made two recipes that I challenged the students to describe.  One was my za'atar pesto into which lavash chips and grape tomatoes were dipped.  One woman guessed (almost).  The second was an intriguing soup based on tomato-vegetable juice with an ample amount of anisette and a soupçon of Thai fish sauce.  It was topped with lightly salted whipped cream and snippets of fresh tarragon.  Everyone loved it and were delighted to learn it can be made in five minutes.  Dinner followed from there:  Chilled Beet Soup with Crème fraiche and Lemon Zest, Tiradito (Peruvian-style sashimi) with a whole lemon-garlic dressing, Scallops on Sweet Pea Puree (with a brown butter-dry vermouth reduction), Salmon with Lime Leaves on Poppy Rice (with coconut-sake sauce and curry oil), Chicken "ras el hanout" with tomato- ginger chutney, and my "little black dress" flourless chocolate cake -- made in five minutes (and only 18 minutes to bake.)   Yep, and it was all radically simple to do.

However, missing items that evening were a standard size food processor and...regular olive oil.  It seems as though Whole Foods carries only extra-virgin olive oil. Curious, I thought, but it is simply not correct to use extra virgin olive oil for everything.  In some recipes, I had to dilute the extra virgin stuff with canola oil (which I never do!) to avoid ruining the taste.  Extra virgin olive oil is not recommended for cooking over high heat and it is far too rich in flavor for several of the more subtle dishes.   And.......I schlepped my food processor from home.

Hope you enjoy the chicken. Everyone did!

Chicken "Ras el Hanout" with Tomato-Ginger Chutney

Juicy and aromatic, this cooks up in no time.  Ras el hanout is a complex, burnt umber-colored spice mixture from Morocco; you may substitute garam masala.

4 very large skinless boneless chicken thighs 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 1-1/2 tablespons ras el janout 3 large ripe tomatoes, about 1 pound 1-1/2 tablespoons dark brown sugar 2 large garlic cloves, chopped 1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and chopped 1/2 small scotch bonnet pepper 1 teaspoon ground cumin

Preheat the broiler or a ridge stovetop grill pan.  Pound the chicken slightly to flatten so that each thigh lies flat.  Place in a large bowl and add the oil, ras el hanout, and 1 teaspoon salt.  Toss to coat.  Broil or grill the chicken for 4 minutes on each side, until just cooked through.  Cut the tomatoes in chunks and put in food processor with the brown sugar, garlic, ginger, scotch bonnet, and cumin.  Pulse until coarsely chopped.  Add salt to taste and serve atop the hot chicken.  Serves 4

Cooking in Silence

So while I was away "eating in silence," perhaps you explored the concept of "cooking in silence" as suggested on the morning of my departure for the Garrison Institute.  On a retreat entitled "The Five Remembrances," dealing with the issues of aging, illness, death, loss and personal actions (what joy!), there was, in fact, much joy in being mindful -- of each moment of the day and of each day of our life.  I often bring that idea to the kitchen as a daily practice (although not as often as I'd like.)  I choose a recipe, and I get the kitchen (and myself) as quiet as possible.  Then...I carefully lay out each of the recipes components -- those ingredients that go directly into the dish (vegetables, herbs, spices, "disconnected" hunks of protein) -- and those implements (pots, cutting board, wooden spoons, dish towel), that are necessary for its preparation.  I carefully look at each; mindful of their individual task.  I am aware of the colors and the wild variety of shapes -- and I am mindful of the extraordinary offerings from nature.  I am also aware of my willingness to honor the notion that humans are omnivores yet often disconnect myself from the source of the flesh -- fish, chickens, pigs, and cows.  I must make a note to be more mindful of that.  When you cook in silence, and are "fully awake" in the process, you will hear the sounds of cooking (water boiling, oil sizzling, toast popping, knifes chopping against wood), and you will engage in the experience with a feeling of satisfaction far greater than merely completing a task.  It adds great pleasure to also acknowledge those who will be eating this food -- to honor those, one-by-one, who will sit at your table.  And finally, but most importantly, to remember those, with a heartfelt nod, who brought us this food.  As the Zen meal chant goes, "Seventy-two labors brought us this food. We should know how it comes to us."

So today I've selected a recipe that will help you quietly put together a nourishing meal.  You can serve it with a simple soup to start, and add a salad and steamed vegetable.  I thought about a dish involving several activities -- peeling, chopping, repetitious stirring, careful heating, with deliberate yet forgiving movements.  It is an orzo "risotto" with wild mushrooms -- I was among the first to cook orzo, a rice-shaped pasta, using the same techniques as one would for arborio rice, by first sautéing the orzo in olive oil until golden and then slowly incorporating stock.  The texture is velvety and it reheats well.

For dessert...a Chocolate Buddha.  Are you smiling?  The Bond Street Chocolate Shop, located on East 4th Street, in the East Village makes them.  They are dusted with "gold" and are available in different sizes.  I may bump into you there.

Orzo "Risotto" with Wild Mushrooms adapted from Little Meals (1993)

2 tablespoons olive oil 1/3 cup finely chopped shallots 12 ounces uncooked orzo 2 tablespoons cognac 3-1/2 to 4 cups beef (or vegetable) broth 4 ounces shiitake or chanterelle mushrooms, thickly sliced 1/2 cup heavy cream 1/3 cup freshly-grated Parmigiano-Reggiano 2 tablespoons julienned flat-leaf parsley

Heat oil in a heavy, enameled pot.  Add shallots and cook until soft, about 5 minutes.  Add orzo and saute 5 minutes over medium-high heat until golden brown, stirring constantly.  Add cognac and let liquid evaporate.  Heat broth and add 1 cup to the pot. Cook over low heat until liquid is absorbed.  Adjust heat as necessary and stir continuously with a wooden spoon.  Add next cup of broth and continue stirring.  Add mushrooms and remaining broth.  Continue to cook until all broth is absorbed and orzo is tender.  Add cream, stir until heated and stir in cheese, salt and pepper.  Divide evening among 4 warm soup plates and sprinkle with parsley.  Serves 4

Meatballs "To Die For"

This brings us to our last of Google's most sought-after recipe requests.  Even at position #10, this number undoubtedly represents thousands of pots of simmering tomato sauce begging for orbs of ground meat, mixed with spices, and love.  "I love my meatballs," Italian cooking maestro Arthur Schwartz whispered to me just last night.  This, from the man who helped put Neapolitan cuisine on the map, about the dish that, "along with pizza and spaghetti with tomato sauce, (meatballs) have to be the most internationally famous, even infamous specialty of Naples."  And while other cultures have their versions, Jewish sweet-and-sour meatballs, albondigas from Spain, Swedish meatballs, Lions head meatballs from China, meatballs from India and the Middle East called kofta, I believe it is the southern Italian prototype that people most desire. According to Arthur in his delicious book Naples at Table, "often the meatballs of Naples are considered too bready -- too meager, too poor, too deceptive.  But it is, in fact, the high ratio of soaked, dried bread they complain about that makes them so light, so crusty, so juicy, so really clever."  The inclusion of mollica di pane -- the milk -or water-soaked interior dough of fresh bread -- gave way to dried breadcrumbs when Italians migrated to America.  In this mecca of meat and gold-paved streets, they upped the ratio of beef to bread, and presto!, the meatballs became heavier.  But no, not Arthur's.  His are considered among many to be "da morire"  (To die for.) Meatballs can be eaten as a main course with a vegetable, as they often are in Naples.  Or, they can be fried and dropped into tomato sauce; or served atop a bowl of spaghetti. I personally love meatballs in a hero sandwich (some of you say "subs" or "grinders"), topped with melted mozzaralla.  I adore the tomato-soaked bread that lingers behind.  Arthur's recipe, which you will find below, has pine nuts and raisins in the mixture.  These days, he laments, not everyone adds them -- it's up to family tastes -- "but these embellishments make for a much more interesting dish, a Baroque touch from the Baroque city."

All this talk about meatballs makes me want to run to the Film Forum next week to see director Pasolini's movie "Mamma Roma" starring Anna Magnani -- beginning 1/21.  The movie itself tells the story of a life that, like Neapolitan meatballs, depicts poverty and deception.  It is the tale of a middle-aged prostitute trying to put her sordid past behind her and fashion a good life for her teenage son.  Pasolini, by the way, is considered one of Italy's greatest modern poets, novelists, and film directors (he died in 1975.)  And Magnani, no doubt, is considered one of Italy's finest actresses.   See you at the Forum!

Polpette alla Napoletana adapted from Naples at Table

3 cups dried crustless bread cut into 1-1/2-inch cubes before measuring 1-1/4 pounds ground beef (80% -- not leaner) 3 eggs, beaten well 2 large cloves garlic, finely minced 1/2 cup (loosely packed) grated pecorino cheese 1/4 cup (loosely packed) finely cut parsley 1/3 cup pine nuts 1/3 cup raisins 1 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1/4 cup vegetable oil 1 quart favorite tomato sauce

Soak the bread in cold water.  Meanwhile, in a large mixing bowl, combine, but do not yet mix, the remaining ingredients, except the oil and tomato sauce.  Squeeze the bread by fistfuls to drain it, then break it up into the bowl.  First with a fork, then with your hands, blend the mixture very well, squishing it in your hands to make sure the bread blends with the meat.  Do not worry about handling the meat too much.  With your hands moistened in cold water, roll the mixture between your palms into 12 meatballs. When a drop of water sizzles immediately, it's hot enough for the meatballs.  Gently place them in the pan and as soon as the first side looks brown, dislodge them and turn to another side.  Continue rotating the meatballs, using a wooden spoon and/or spatula.  After 10 minutes the meatballs should be well browned but slightly rare in the center.  If serving without sauce, continue cooking them for 5 to 8 minutes, rotating them as you go.  If serving with sauce, place them in the sauce now and simmer for 15 minutes.  Makes 12 meatballs

#8 A Popular Lasagna

Lasagna. Once upon a time it meant striations of wide wiggle-edge ribbons of pasta layered with creamy ricotta cheese, tomato-y meat sauce, parmesan cheese and melted mozzarella. No wonder it is #8 on the Google most-wanted recipe search. But today, that familiar rendition of lasagna has been mostly relegated to pizza places and family-run trattorias. Even diners. Today lasagna is pure fashion, with new seasons sporting adventurous combinations and colors -- nothing anyone in Italy would recognize as a classic. Years, ago I created a modern twist on lasagna for Bon Appetit magazine. It was made with butternut squash, portabello mushrooms, fresh sage and thyme, and smoked mozzarella. Little did I know that, in one neighborhood in particular, it became a prelude to childbirth. According to my good friend Debbie Freundlich, whose daughter-in-law began the trend, before any expectant Brooklyn Heights mother went to the hospital, an ample supply of my butternut lasagna was prepared days before and popped in the freezer! Apparently, many expecting fathers, friends and relatives have been treated to big squares of this stuff for half-a-dozen years or more.  When I asked Debbie to tell me about this special recipe, she told me the ingredients. I chortled, "Hey, that's my recipe." Little did I know that it had been given a new name. In some zip codes, it's known as "pregnancy lasagna." What can I say? It's made with "no-boil" lasagna noodles (a requirement made by the Bon App editors), is vegetarian, and satisfying to make. And it seems to freeze well.

Butternut Squash and Portabello Lasagna I used a very good organic vegetable broth called Imagine from California. It has lots of body and lovely flavor. This can be assembled one day ahead and refrigerated.

4 tablespoons unsalted butter 2-1/2 cups finely chopped onions 8 ounces baby portabello mushrooms, sliced 2 pounds butternut squash, peeled and seeded 2 cups vegetable broth 4 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme 4 tablespoons slivered fresh sage 3 15-ounce containers whole-milk ricotta 4 cup grated mozzarella or smoked mozzarella (or a combination) 2 cups freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano 4 large eggs, beaten 9-ounce package no-boil lasagna noodles olive oil for oiling lasagna pan

Melt butter in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and cook until soft, about 8 minutes. Increase heat to high and add sliced mushrooms. Cook until tender, stirring constantly, about 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer mixture to bowl and set aside. Cut squash into 1/4-inch thick slices or 1/2-inch dice.  Add squash, broth, 3 tablespoons thyme and 3 tablespoons sage to the skillet. Cover and simmer until squash is just tender, about 6 minutes. Uncover and cook until squash is very soft but still retains shape, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Mix ricotta, 2 cups mozzarella, 1-1/2 cups parmesan and remaining herbs in a large bowl. Season with salt and pepper; mix in eggs. Brush a 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish with oil. Spread 1 cup ricotta mixture over bottom. Arrange 3 noodles on top.  Spread 1-3/4 cups ricotta mixture over noodles. Arrange 1-1/3 cups squash mixture over. Sprinkle with 1/2 cup mushrooms and 1 cup mozzarella. Top with 3 noodles, then 1-3/4 cups ricotta, half of remaining squash, 1/2 cup mushrooms and remaining 1 cup mozzarella. Repeat with noodles, 1-3/4 cups ricotta, remaining squash and remaining mushrooms. Top with 3 noodles. Spread remaining ricotta on top; sprinkle with remaining parmesan. Cover with oiled foil. Preheat oven to 350. Bake, covered, 35 minutes. Uncover and bake about 25 minutes longer. Let stand 10 minutes before serving. Serves 8

Salsa #7

Salsa #7 refers to the ranking of recipe requests on Google for this vibrant condiment.  Salsa, in fact, has overtaken ketchup sales in America in dollar value (not volume, yet.)  No one could really have anticipated it, except perhaps the guys behind the Tostitos and Pace brands.  According to one study, ketchup just edged out salsa by units sold, 176 million to 174.9 million.  Pretty close.  But because ketchup bottles are bigger, ketchup trounced salsa in pounds sold.  Nonetheless, no one dips a tortilla chip into a bowl of ketchup! And there are no Champion Ketchup Competitions, such as the World Salsa Competition held by the International Chili Society.  What is interesting, too, is that few foods have dances to call their own. Salsa as food; salsa as performance art.  I love them both. As one research firm has discovered, salsa consumption has bucked the usual "proletarian drift" of many other new food products which usually begin in the large coastal metropolitan areas and slowly migrate to the heartland. Instead, salsa began in the southwest and spread its piquancy across America.  Salsa is also interesting as it is ubiquitous in the Latino market yet is still considered a bit upscale -- and also a healthy choice -- by the Anglo marketplace.

Red salsa-in-a-jar has so many uses. My good friend Chase Crossingham makes superb guacamole-filled omelettes and tops them with salsa and sour cream. Splendid. I have pureed the heck out of it, added a touch of olive oil and lime zest, and used it as a puddle for grilled swordfish. Once I steamed 3 pounds of mussels in it and added a splash of tequila.  In my cookbook Recipes 1-2-3, I dared make a soup that I called "Sopa de Salsa" -- made with half-and-half, yellow onion, and a jar of medium-hot salsa. But there are many other salsas to explore -- I like them made with fresh fruit, too -- mangoes and pineapple add great verve.

Here's the 2008 World Champion Salsa winner called Alf's Salsa. It has lots of ingredients but seems radically simple to make.

4 jalapenos, seeded and deveined 4 serranos, seeded and deveined 2 Anaheim peppers, seeded and deveined 1 yellow bell pepper 1 orange bell pepper 8 Roma tomatoes juice of 1 lime 16 oz. can of diced tomatoes 16 oz. can of pureed tomatoes 1 red onion 1 yellow onion 1 white onion 1 teaspoon ground cumin 1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne 3 cloves garlic, mashed 2 tablespoons salt 2 tablespoons sugar 1 bunch cilantro

Finely dice the peppers, onions and tomatoes. Add the remaining ingredients except the cilantro. Chill 2 hours; chop the cilantro and add as much as desired. And here's a much simpler version! 1 tablespoon oil 1 small onion 1 large clove garlic 2 very large ripe tomatoes 1 small jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely chopped 3 tablespoons finely chopped cilantro 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin fresh lime juice and Tabasco to taste

Chop all the ingredients very well. Add fresh lime juice, Tabasco and salt to taste. Cover and refrigerate at least 30 minutes.

The Hummus Factor

Pronounced most properly as "who-mousse" (not hum-muss), this now ubiquitous chickpea spread landed as number six on Google's most frequent recipe search.  Yet, a recent article in The Jewish Week stated that 82% of Americans have never tried it.  Huh?  Statistically then, hummus recipes are voraciously desired by a rather small universe.   According to Amy Spiro, who wrote the story, in 1995 hummus was a $5 million industry with just a handful of companies manufacturing it.  Today sales have reached $350 million a year.  Maybe the universe for delicious dips is expanding. I have always loved hummus.  During 10 visits to the Middle East since 1980, I have pursued the best and most authentic.  I am generally surprised how thick and ultra-suave the texture is (mine never quite gets that way).  Hummus is a chickpea puree flavored with tahini (sesame seed paste), fresh lemon, garlic and cumin.  Cold water is generally added to help emulsify the ingredients and loosen the sesame paste.  There are as many versions as there are characters in a Tolstoy play: I love it served warm and topped with toasted walnuts and dukkah (a spice blend from Egypt); served cold with spicy warm ground lamb; topped with zhug (a very spicy Yemenite condiment) and a hard-boiled egg, or just as is with a sprinkling of pine nuts and a pile of toasted pita.  In my new book Radically Simple, I saute a mess of wild mushrooms and pile them atop a mound of lemony hummus as a great first course for the vegetarians I know and love.  Hummus, is also my "go to" improv hors d'oeuvre for any last-minute guests.  And although hummus is most delicious made with dried chickpeas you cook yourself, it is perfectly credible made with canned chickpeas:  They are always in my pantry.

Generally considered a dip, hummus has become a most universal food:  It is breakfast for some, a wholesome lunch for others.  It can be a snack, a sandwich spread, something with which to fill cherry tomatoes, an edible bed for grilled chicken or fish.  I like to sneak a mound of hummus under a hillock of lightly-dressed greens for fun.  Look, surprise, hummus!

Here's my favorite recipe adapted slightly from Little Meals: A Great New Way to Eat & Cook (written by me in 1993.) Hummus Serve with a pile of toasted pita bread or with a grand array of fresh vegetables for dipping.  The recipe is easily doubled and tripled and lasts several days in your fridge.

1-1/2 cups freshly cooked chickpeas (or a 15-ounce can) 3 to 4 tablespoons freshly-squeezed lemon juice 3 tablespoons tahini (well-stirred) 1 medium clove garlic 2 to 3 tablespoons cold water 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin 1/2 teaspoon salt extra-virgin olive oil for drizzling optional: toasted sesame seeds and smoked paprika for dusting on top

If using canned chickpeas, drain them under cold water and shake dry.  Put chickpeas, 3 tablespoons lemon juice, tahini, garlic, 2 tablespoons water, cumin and salt in a food processor and process several minutes until very smooth.  Add more lemon juice if desired and a little more water to make a smooth consistency, if necessary.  Pack into a shallow dish or spread the hummus on a large plate.  Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with sesame seeds and smoked paprika, if using.  Makes 1-1/2 cups

Heavenly Hots

Yes, PANCAKES are numero five on Google's most-requested recipe list.  And while I always loved pancakes as a kid, we never ate them at home.  Instead we enjoyed my mother's crepe-like palascintas (she was Hungarian) and ventured out to IHOP as a special treat. (We also had Christmas brunch there this year!) My brother and I ate buttermilk pancakes (I'm sure I had mine with strawberries), but my mother ate IHOP's version of palascintas! -- elegant crepes drenched in a faux Grand Marnier syrup.  My dad ate hash, sausage and bacon.  As I recall, his cholesterol was surprisingly low.  But most people eat pancakes at home.  Only this year did I create a pancake recipe for Radically Simple, where the batter rises slowly overnight -- much in the way that a yeast-bread rises -- allowing for concentrated flavor and lots of air bubbles that result in supernal fluffiness.  These pancakes are the yin to the yang of Marion Cunninghams' "Heavenly Hots" -- my favorite pancake experience of all time.  I first had them at the Bridge Creek Restaurant one morning, in Berkeley, California, when I was alone on a business trip. John Hudspeth was the chef and owner and a dear friend of Marion's:  She was the original Fanny Farmer and one of the most loved women in the food world. (I later became of friend of Marion's and dearly enjoyed my time with her near her home in Walnut Creek, CA and when she visited New York.)  I recall the first bite of the aptly-named "heavenly hot."  I swooned.  Everyone did.  For these small delicate pancakes seemed to levitate, then slowly disappear on your tongue. Thanks to Marion's lovely book, "The Breakfast Book," signed to 'Michael and Rozanne' in 1987, (we had just gotten married), the inclusion of this special recipe makes it possible to eat them at home. In her sweet headnote Marion writes, "These are the lightest sour cream silver-dollar-size hotcakes I've ever had -- they seem to hover over the plate.  They are heavenly and certainly should be served hot."

Bridge Creek Heavenly Hots According to Marion, this recipe yields fifty to sixty small pancakes!

4 eggs 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/2 teaspoon baking soda 1/4 cup cake flour 2 cups sour cream 3 tablespoons sugar

Put the eggs in a mixing bowl and stir until well blended.  Add the salt, baking soda, flour, sour cream, and sugar.  Mix well.  All of this can be done in a blender, if you prefer.  Heat a griddle or frying pan until it is good and hot, film with grease, and drop small spoonfuls of batter onto the griddle -- just enough to spread to an approximately 2-1/2-inch round.  When a few bubbles appear on top of the pancakes, turn them over and cook briefly.  Makes 50 to 60 silver-dollar size pancakes

#4 Delicious Banana Bread

I am imagining the tonnage of overripe, black-and-yellow speckled bananas lounging in home kitchens across America.  Why else would banana bread be Google's fourth most sought-after recipe?  And while I enjoy banana bread as much as the next guy, it is hard to imagine it trumping brownies, let's say, as the most beloved treat.  But valuable it is in the nutrition it can offer.  My recipe for a super-moist banana bread includes a freshly-grated zucchini and lots of plump golden raisins.  It also incorporates olive oil, instead of butter, for added moisture and even more health benefits.  My recipe also uses less sugar than the more typical bread and that sugar is unrefined turbinado, rather than granulated.  So there you have it.  A very lovely Banana-Zucchini Bread that is radically simple, and quite healthy, to make.  These types of breads  are also called "tea cakes" and are a nice thing to serve for afternoon tea with a dollop, perhaps, of mascarpone (Italian cream cheese) sweetened ever so slightly with wildflower honey.

I'd be thrilled if anyone cared to share a favorite banana bread recipe with me.  I've got plenty of bananas lounging around.

Very Moist Banana-Zucchini Bread You will love the mysterious flavor and moisture that comes from a very ripe banana and a zucchini!  Healthy, easy, wonderful.

1 large zucchini, about 10 ounces 2 extra-large eggs 3/4 cup turbinado sugar 2/3 cup olive oil, plus more for greasing the pan 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon 1 large over-ripe banana 1/2 golden raisins 1-1/2 cups self-rising flour

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Wash the zucchini and dry; do not peel.  Grate the zucchini on the large holes of a box grater to get 2 cups.  Using your clean hands, squeeze the zucchini dry.  In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the eggs and sugar on medium-high for 3 minutes.  Add the oil, vanilla, cinnamon and 1/4 teaspoon salt; beat for 30 seconds.  Peel the banana and mash well.  Add to the mixture and beat until the banana is incorporated and the mixture is smooth.  Stir in the zucchini and raisins, then slowly add the flour and mix well.  Lightly oil a 8-x-4-inch loaf pan.  Pour in the batter and bake for 55 minutes until firm and golden.  Let cool; turn bread out of pan and slice.  Serves 8

A Great Cheesecake

Cheesecake recipes are precious legacies.  Many get handed down from generation to generation more sure-handedly than the family china.  A good cheesecake is the crown jewel of the American dessert cart and, "Whose is best?," is the mythology that keeps us talking. And asking.  Which brings us to the reason that"cheesecake" is the third most requested recipe on the Google hit parade.  As far as I know, no one in my family ever made a cheesecake.  We loved Sara Lee's (truly) -- the one from the freezer case in the supermarket (and I enjoyed eating it frozen!)-- and we would venture as often as possible to Junior's -- a New York cheesecake institution.  Over the years, the cheesecake wars included Miss Grimble, Turf, Eileen's, and Lady Oliver's (the company of Rachel Hirschfeld, who delivered her velvety cheesecakes to New York's top restaurants in a white Bentley.)  When I was the chef at Gracie Mansion for Mayor Koch (in 1978!), Turf was the cheesecake we used -- I topped it with small strawberries and glazed them with melted currant jelly laced with a bit of Cassis.  When President Jimmy Carter came to visit, I bought a peanut cheesecake enrobed in crackly caramel, from a wonderfully fun restaurant called Once Upon A Stove.  I served it, with a glass of milk, alongside the Carter nightstand on the second floor bedroom.  He enjoyed it tremendously.

Before writing Radically Simple, I, like the other women in my family, never made a cheesecake.  And that's why I am eternally grateful to Anne Kabo of Margate, New Jersey, who taught me how.  Anne, through a complex family saga, is a relative of sorts and a cherished one at that.  The radically delicious cheesecake recipe that follows belongs to her, as does the lovely photo she took.

A Radically Simple Cheesecake Anne Kabo, one of the best home bakers I know, created one of the best cheesecakes I've had.  The crust doesn't need to be pre-baked and, compared to most recipes, it is radically simple.  It also freezes beautifully.  You can cover any cracks with shaved white chocolate or simply adorn the cake with ripe berries.

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature 5 ounces honey graham crackers 1/2 cup walnuts or pecans 1-1/4 cups sugar 3 extra-large eggs, room temperature 16 ounces cream cheese, broken into pieces 2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract 1 tablespoon cornstarch 24 ounces sour cream

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  Butter a deep 10-inch springform pan with 2 tablespoons of the butter.  Finely crush the graham crackers, nuts, and 1/4 cup sugar in a food processor.  Melt the remaining 4 tablespoons butter; stir into the crumbs until moistened.  Pat the crumbs onto the bottom and 1/2-inch up the side of the pan to form a crust.  Using a standing mixer, beat the eggs for 3 minutes.  Add the cream cheese and mix until smooth, 2 minutes.  Add the remaining 1 cup sugar, vanilla, cornstarch, and 1/4 teaspoon salt.  Beat on high for 2 minutes.  Add the sour cream and beat 1 minute longer.  Pour into the crust.  Bake 50 to 55 minutes until firm. Cool on a rack.  Cover and refrigerate until very cold.  Serves 16

Electric Orange Juice

For years I've been hearing about the big, bountiful, beautiful breakfasts at Norma's:  the hotel dining room at the Parker-Meridien on West 57th Street in New York City.  And while the experience was extremely pleasant and the food very good, the most outstanding part of the story was the orange juice!  At first I thought it was a hustle.  At $9 a glass, what was the deal?   "Who wants juice?" our affable waiter sung out? (He looked a bit like Baryshnikov).  With the grace of a dancer, he began pouring electric-looking orange liquid into three of our four extremely tall glasses.  I declined, and chose instead to have juice for dessert -- more about that later.  After 30 minutes, the glasses were filled again, and 10 minutes later...again.  Quickly I calculated that I was now $54 into the check and we hadn't had anything yet to eat!  Uh-oh, "here he comes again."  I didn't want to seem ungracious (I was treating), but finally said, "Sir, uh, um, do you charge for each glass of juice?"   "Oh no," he said.  "Refills are free."  Instant relief for me, then curiousity.  Why would they do that?  The juice was extraordinary tasting.  It was though a crate of succulent Honeybells was squeezed into each glass.  While it was the hospitality-equivalent of the unlimited "sweet tea" you encounter in the South, this orange elixir had to cost them a fortune.   The food arrived...a PB&C Waffle 'Wich (a chocolate waffle with peanut butter and toffee crunch filling), Artychoked Benedict (with truffle porcini sauce), Super Cheesy French Toast (with caramelized onions and applewood smoked bacon), and Normalita's Huevos Rancheros and...more juice. As I mentioned, I saved mine for dessert.  One of my most memorable desserts in history was experienced in Barcelona.  At a trendy neighborhood restaurant, chic customers order fresh orange juice for dessert, served in a wine glass and accompanied by a spoon.  How simple, yet brilliant, to end a meal in such a vibrant, palate-cleansing way.   It is especially memorable made with Honeybells (just coming up from Florida now) or with blood oranges.  I call their flavor "nature's Kool-Aid."  Either way, it's an inspired, one-ingredient dessert, that's hard to beat.

Although breakfast at Norma's is very expensive (there is even Foie Gras French Toast for $34 and The Zillion Dollar Lobster Frittata for $100), if you do as I did, dessert is free.  I drank the last glass of juice from one of my guests.

A Recipe for Electric Orange Juice

This recipe is one ingredient only.  Each large orange yields about 1/2 cup juice so plan accordingly.  Use navel oranges, Honeybells, or large blood oranges. (At this time of year, it's delicious to add the juice of two tangerines.)

8 large oranges

Cut oranges in half and juice.  Pour into wine glasses and serve with a spoon.  Serves 4

Odds and Ends

Hope you all had a wonderful New Year's Day.  Aside from birthdays, and hangovers, and new years wishes, January 1st marks the day in 1943 that my devastatingly handsome father scored the winning touchdown at the Sugar Bowl for the University of Tennessee!  From there he was drafted by the Washington Redskins.  I have the signed football from the Sugar Bowl and the Redskins contract.  My dad was a fullback...and the deal was $5000.00. He didn't play long however, injuries from the war got the better of him.  But we commemorated New Year's day with "Tennessee doughnuts" anyway. My dad would buy the biggest yeast-glazed doughnuts he could find and fry them up in a bit of butter in a frying pan, flattening them with a spatula as he went along.  You ate them like pancakes, with a fork and a knife, and let the sugar, and disappointments, melt away. Yesterday, two requests appeared on my blog for the recipe for the "double-boiler"scrambled eggs that my husband makes me for on New Year's morning. He wrote it down last night and named it "Voluptuous Scrambled Eggs."  The recipe is below, along with a photo of the dish just before I devoured it. As you can see, a tiny jar of caviar goes a long way.   The day unfolded with more delicious things to eat:  Jasmine tea and Christmas cookies at the home of close friends who wanted us to see their sparkling Christmas tree before it was disassembled, and then a late afternoon party at the home of "wedding planner to the stars," Marcy Blum, whose generosity can seriously damage any New Year's resolutions for moderation.  Quarter-pounder crab cakes, prime rib, and champagne for 80!

Today, my best friend (since we were 13) and her daughter (now a rabbi) are coming to town (from Philadelphia and Durham, NC respectively.)  We are celebrating the end of the holiday with one last feast at Norma's -- the restaurant in the Parker-Meridien Hotel famous for its sumptuous breakfasts.

For tonight we'll nibble on lettuce.  May this year be a healthy one for all.

VOLUPTUOUS SCRAMBLED EGGS

9 extra-large eggs 1 Tbsp water 2 Tbsp unsalted butter, one of which is cut into small pieces 1 heaping Tbsp goat cheese, cut into small pieces

Put several inches of water into a smallish pot.  Fit a non-stick frying pan to cover the pot.  Or use a proper double-boiler.  Get the water simmering. Beat the eggs and the water together vigorously.

Put one Tbsp butter into the pan and let it melt completely.  Swirl to make sure entire pan is coated.  Add the eggs.  Keep the water at a slow simmer and have patience.  Eventually the eggs will begin to set.  Stir them slowly and gently with a rubber spatula.  As the eggs begin to firm up, add all the pieces of goat cheese and a few small pieces of butter.  Continue stirring and scraping the bottom of the pan.  Add more butter as the eggs get firmer.  Here’s where you need the most patience: The eggs should firm up as slowly as possible, so you may need to turn the flame down – or even remove the pan from the heat of the water for a moment.  When the eggs are just about set – they will be soft and there will be a bit of liquid eggs in the pan -- add a pinch of salt and stir until the eggs set to your taste.  To my taste, they should be very soft with a small amount of runny eggs.  Spoon them onto a warm plate.  Serves 2 or 3

Eggnog Notions

I like eggnog.  At this time of year, my friend Katherine pours eggnog, instead of milk, into her morning coffee.  No, not the alcoholic stuff, but the ultra-creamy, thick, organic, rum-flavored variety she gets from a local dairy in Bethesda, Maryland.  As a child, I witnessed the appearance of "the yearly carton" in our refrigerator every December.  My mother, who rarely drank, loved pouring rum (the alcoholic stuff) into a cut-crystal wine glass full of store-bought eggnog and savoring every sip.  This was about the same time we snuggled up and watched "White Christmas" over and over again.  (But hey, come to think of it, my mother's other favorite drink was a Brandy Alexander -- a not-too-distant cousin.)  According to Larousse Gastronomique, where eggnog is referred to by its French name, lait de poule, it is a "nourishing drink served either hot or cold."  Their recipe: to beat an egg yolk with 1 tablespoon sugar and add a glass of milk, then lace with rum or brandy.  A more interesting version, offered in the Joy of Cooking, has you adding 1/4 cup of cream (instead of the milk), 2 to 4 tablespoons rum, brandy or whisky, and then folding in a stiffly beaten egg white.  In the same book, you can find a recipe for eggnog in quantity, based on a dozen egg yolks, and take it from there (page 64, if you happen to have a copy.)  Two curious things about that recipe:  there is a mention of peach brandy (the book was originally printed in 1931.  Who knew?), and a humorous headnote that no doubt launched the beginning of humorous headnotes in cookbooks.  "Some people like to add a little more spirit to the following recipe," Irma Rombauer wrote, "remembering Mark Twain's observation that too much of anything is bad, but too much whisky is just enough."

But the real reason I write about eggnog today is to tell you how to use commercially-bought eggnog in myriad ways.  I make a one-ingredient "creme anglaise" by merely simmering eggnog until thick and creamy (until it coats the back of a wooden spoon); a wicked pumpkin flan using eggnog as its foundation, and a fabulous panettone bread pudding whose custardy goodness comes from...you-guessed-it.

The following recipe first made its appearance in Recipes 1-2-3, published in 1996. Eggnog and Panettone Bread Pudding A winter wonderland kind of dessert, since commercial eggnog appears just in time for the first frost.  You can use a bottled eggnog here, like Mr. Boston, from your liquor store.  This will produce a deliciously "alcoholic" dessert.  Or you can use eggnog that is available in the refrigerated case of your supermarket for a rich and evocative (and non-alcoholic) pudding.  Even the eggnog in the can (I think it's Borden's) will do.

8 ounces panettone 3 cups prepared eggnog 2 extra-large eggs

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Cut the panettone into 3/4-inch cubes.  Put them on a baking sheet and toast them lightly in the oven.  Watch carefully.  The panettone should become golden, not brown.  Beat together 2 cups eggnog, eggs, and a pinch of salt using an electric mixer.  Place the toasted panettone cubes in a baking dish that is 9x7 or 8-inches square.  A glass dish is preferable.  Pour  the eggnog mixture over the panettone, pressing down so that the panettone is submerged.  Let sit 15 minutes.  Place the pan in a hot-water bath.  Bake 40 minutes until firm and golden.  Remove from oven and let cool.  Serve at room temperature or cold.   Prepare a sauce using the remaining eggnog:  Put 1 cup eggnog in a small, heavy saucepan.  Bring to a boil, lower heat to simmer and cook, stirring often, until reduced to 1/2 cup and is dark tan in color, about 30 minutes.  Let cool.  Drizzle pudding with sauce.  Serves 6

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

New Year's Eve Pig Out

I don't really mean pig out in the sense of the word overindulging, but I do mean the preparation of one of my favorite pork roasts.  Since it requires 18 hours in your oven, it is the perfect dish to serve at the stroke of midnight -- at the very same moment that you sing Auld Lang Syne and kiss your partner under the mistletoe.  Instead of shouting "Happy New Year!" however, you may instead scream "Let's eat!" The vapors streaming from your kitchen at this point will be so intoxicating as to leave all formalities aside and have you rushing to the groaning board (a word whose derivation is most interesting.)  Let's figure this out and I'm telling you now so you can get the ingredients today.  If you put the pork shoulder in the oven tonight (Thursday, December 30th) at midnight, the irresistibly crackly sphere of meat will be ready for indulging at 8:30 p.m. tomorrow night -- Friday, Dec. 31st, the early hours of most New Year's Eve festivities. That's fine for many of you who like to eat at a reasonable hour, leaving you enough time to position yourself in front of some fireworks.  For those of you who are glued to your big screen television to watch the ball drop from the center of Times Square in New York City and join the world's choral countdown, then you'll need to put the pork in the oven around 4 a.m. (Friday, Dec. 31st).  That could present a problem, or not, but it is no different than what many Americans do on Thanksgiving Day. I can't tell you how delicious this pork roast is.  Flavored with fennel and cumin seed, garlic and fresh lemon, the skin becomes so crispy and the pork flesh stays so very moist because of the very low temperature at which it cooks.  There's a little kick at the end from hot pepper flakes and the whole thing goes amazingly well with champagne, whose celebratory bubbles cut through unctuous succulence and tempers the salinity.  Serve with a pot of oil-slicked bay-scented lentils (good luck in Italy) and a simple arugula salad splashed with balsamic vinegar (and maybe some crumbled blue cheese with pickled red onions!)  A simple carrot puree -- for color and contrast -- would also be nice.  Crank up the music and bring in the new year on high.

Here's what you need to do: 18-Hour Pork Shoulder with Fennel, Garlic & Lemon If you put this in the oven before you go to bed, it will be ready for dinner the next day -- all crackly, succulent and irresistible.

10-pound whole pork shoulder, skin on 2 large heads garlic, cloves separated and peeled 3 tablespoons fennel seeds 3 tablespoons cumin seeds 1/2 teaspoon hot pepper flakes 2 lemons

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.  Make deep slits in the pork skin, about 1 inch apart, going through to the flesh.  Combine the garlic, fennel, cumin, pepper flakes and 2 teaspoons kosher salt in a food processor; process until coarsely ground.  Spread the mixture all over the pork, making sure to pack some into the slits.  Place the pork in a roasting pan.  Roast for 30 minutes.  Squeeze the juice of 1 lemon over the pork and reduce the temperature to 250 degrees.  Bake for 18 hours.  Squeeze the juice of the second lemon over the pork during the last hour of cooking.  When done, the skin will crackle and the flesh will be soft.  Carve into thick or thin slices. Serves 8 (or more)

Happy almost New Year!

Highlights and Food Bites 2010

So it's three nights to the last day of 2010, and what a year it's been.  Professionally speaking, I published my 12th cookbook Radically Simple (no simple task), wrote numerous articles for Real Food magazine and Bon Appetit; finished the arrangements for the procurement of the Gourmet magazine library and its donation to New York University (in honor of my mother); made a book deal for a close friend, mentored several young women and men in and out, of the industry (one great restaurant cook became a chef for Dean & DeLuca; one young woman working for a food website decided to get her masters in library science instead), continued my responsibilities as culinary consultant to the international consulting group, the Joseph Baum & Michael Whiteman Co., appeared on many national radio programs, and started to blog and tweet! Those are some highlights.

But the real highlights are the personal ones:  an overdue trip to Israel to visit a longtime friend who was chief-of-staff to Prime Minister Begin (I met him when I was chef to Mayor Koch in 1978!); continuing my weekly work as a hospice volunteer (having the privilege of spending time with Frank McCourt before he died), going on several spiritual retreats at the Garrison Institute, ushering my 14-year old daughter to a Justin Bieber concert and waiting 7 hours in the parking lot; ushering that same daughter into 9th grade, making several wonderful new friendships (one with a neighbor who was Bruce Springsteen's manager, who later wrote the definitive book on the Beatles), strengthening old relationships, learning to meditate (I'm a real beginner), having a holiday meal with my son, Jeremy, at Oceana, hanging out with my brother and his wife in Hoboken (and passing big lines for the Cake Boss on the way to his house), cooking for more friends at home, and celebrating my 23rd wedding anniversary with my own personal cake boss, Michael Whiteman.

And then there are the restaurant highlights:  going on a triptych of clandestine dining reviews with two of New York's best critics, having an amazing meal in Israel in a tiny restaurant near the market in Jerusalem called Mahane Yehuda, enjoying weekly breakfasts at L'Express and monthly lunches at Barbounia, exciting meals (or dishes) at Oceana, the Standard Grill, 11 Madison, the Breslin, Roberta's, Lincoln, Van Daag, Zuma in Miami, and even more exciting meals at friends homes including Anne Kabo (in Margate, New Jersey), the second Thanksgiving at the home of Katherine and Alan Miller (in Bethesda), the third Thanksgiving at the home of Geoffrey and Noa Weill, a Passover extravaganza at the home of Robin Shinder and family, a radically simple, yet delicious dinner at the Omskys, and a marvelous meal at the home of Debbie and Larry Freundlich with the legendary editor Judith Jones as a guest.

But hands-down the restaurant highlight of the year for me is...ABC Kitchen at ABC Home in New York City.  Kudos to Jean-Georges' Vongerichten whose brainchild it was to support a sustainable, green, locavore mission in the most sophisticated way imaginable, and to his awesomely talented executive chef, Dan Kluger.  May Dan get all the attention he deserves in 2011.  More kudos to Paulette Cole and Amy Chender (CEO and COO of ABC Home) whose vision and passion made it possible to do it.

Best dishes of 2010?  Well, that's a blog for another day.