Served at a luncheon for the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II, coronation chicken, or “Poulet Reine Elizabeth” as it was written on the official menu, is a dish of cold chicken coated in a creamy curry sauce. This is my textural vegan take, with cauliflower and chickpeas regally stepping in for the chicken. While classic recipes typically feature cream and mayonnaise in the sauce, I’ve lightened things up with coconut yogurt, which adds sweetness and a tropical tang that pairs well with the curry flavor. Greek yogurt works nicely, too, delivering more sour notes. Dried fruit is a common addition to “coronation-style” dishes, with some recipes calling for dried apricots or raisins; I’ve opted for the former (though you can use either), along with optional mango chutney for liveliness and subtle spice. This salad tastes even better the next day, so feel free to prep ahead; I recommend using leftovers to make a sandwich.
Romans have been worshipping at the altar of cheese and pepper (aka cacio e pepe) for centuries. This simple, creamy, indulgent, delicious combo is a pillar of the four great Roman pastas. We haven’t messed around with it, simply swapping out pasta for Italian borlotti beans. Ready in just 15 minutes, this is comfort food at its best.
This colorful salad is a feast for the eyes. Full of veggie goodness, the sweetness and spice are beautifully balanced with the fresh dressing that has a slight kick to round things out.
This salad is a visceral experience, like you ran through the garden with a weed whacker. Made up of pieces of fresh herbs that are just shy of being too big to eat, it’s a wild and reckless bowl of green with a sexy crunch. At Dad’s, it stands up to the wrath of a greasy diner burger and a yolk-exploding mushroom sandwich. The ingredients list is anarchic; you can decide for yourself what your handfuls are, changing up the herbs and sprouts as others come into season. You can use a salad spinner to wash it all, but I like to get my hands in it, mix it up well, and let it drip dry. Then you’ll dress it with Hippie Vinaigrette (page 53), and your folks will chomp on it like they’re herbivores.
These skillet tortillas use store-bought enchilada sauce for simmering, which makes them an especially convenient option for last-minute savory breakfasts or brunches. You can transform the meal repeatedly by experimenting with different toppings, be they creamy, melty, crispy, or crumbly. I give a few of my favorite options in the ingredient list, but don’t be afraid to add your own finishing touches! Note that the recipe calls for white corn tortillas, rather than yellow; white tortillas tend to be thinner and more pliable, which makes them especially good for soaking up the sauce.
If you’ve ever felt bored by tilapia, or any other white fish, this recipe will totally change your mind. The sauce, the mushrooms, the crispy prosciutto! None of those are necessarily served with such a delicate piece of seafood traditionally, but that doesn’t mean we can’t give it a go. Trust me—tilapia smothered in cream sauce is delicious! I recommend crusty bread for scooping it all up, of course. And the crispy prosciutto makes this dish shine and feel a little more special.
Hanukkah is a fine time to serve these at brunch with a dollop of Greek yogurt or sour cream on top. I am constantly amazed at just how far Jewish food travels: when I was working on the update for this book, my daughter Daniela told me that a relative of her Chilean friend posted a recipe online for apple latkes. When I contacted her, I realized it was a Polish recipe. Shortly afterward, Daniela, on a train going through Poland, tasted a similar apple pancake. You can also substitute stone fruits, like apricots, plums, or peaches—in the late spring, at Shavuot, or anytime.
White beans dressed with little more than fresh herbs and good olive oil reminds me of meals I’ve enjoyed in Tuscany, the South of France, and the Greek islands. Here, the gremolata-style dressing is inspired by the Italian version made with garlic, citrus rind, and parsley. My variation uses a combination of preserved lemons, black garlic, and cilantro. The black garlic can be replaced with pitted salted olives—not the same, but it does have that “grounding” umami flavor.
My Moroccan friend Mehdi first introduced me to chermoula as a marinade for seafood, but I love it on chicken too. It wraps the meat with the soft distinct flavor of cooked cilantro and the gentle warmth of sweet paprika. This is a great picnicky recipe to double up for a summertime crowd, since chicken thighs (or hindquarters) are very forgiving for the busy home cook. I like to use my wood-burning pizza oven outdoors, but an indoor oven works just fine.
For this tart, you can use either forced rhubarb in the early part of the year, which is pink, tender and sweet, or the typical garden rhubarb from late spring onwards, although you may need to add a little more sugar when marinating the stems. For me, both are delicious.