Rosewater, one of my favorite flavors, is delicately fragrant, and I suggest buying a bottle or two for your pantry. Whenever I am roasting rhubarb I add a few dashes of rosewater, but it’s also delicious added to whipped cream, sponge cakes, raspberries, strawberries—I could go on…
The flavors of the herbs and hazelnuts roasted along with the lamb cutlets are utter heaven here, but you could use almonds or pine nuts instead if you prefer. The last time I made this dish was at my good friend and London theater queen Sally Greene’s house. Since it was a large supper gathering, I prepared the pea and wild garlic purée ahead in the morning, along with the lamb cutlets right up to the stage of putting them in the oven, so it was very easy to serve.
This has to be the prettiest spring salad ever! The delicate peppery taste of the pea shoots alongside the crispy, smoky pancetta, sweet peas, and creamy goat cheese is divine—or try using watercress instead. The dressing, lightly scented with orange, is my favorite with this salad, but if you are fonder of a lemon dressing, then simply replace the orange with a lemon. I recommend doubling up the dressing recipe, as it will last for up to two weeks in the fridge.
We prefer the subtler flavor and larger size of lamb labeled “domestic” or “American” for this recipe.
The word omelet originally derives from the Latin for "little plate," and omelets are usually made individually. You quickly cook one or two eggs while stirring rapidly and continuously to make the curds very fine, then stop the stirring to let the eggs set in the pan. When the omelet is just barely cooked, you grip the handle of the pan, palm up, and roll the egg from the handle side of the pan out of the pan and over the opposite edge in, one hopes, a lovely long oval of delicately pale, perfectly smooth, uniformly yellow egg. It takes practice -- mistakes are delicious and successes are high-five-worthy.
Giovanna Giglio Cascone, a homecook in Ragusa, Sicily, makes this delicious tomato-and-cheese filled bread every Easter.
For some, the beginning of spring is marked by budding crocuses and blooming daffodils. For me, it’s all about the rhubarb. After a long winter of baking endless nut, citrus, and chocolate cream pies, the emergence of those leafy pink stalks from the ground is a harbinger of the coming bounty of spring and summer fruits. Some wait until strawberries are in season a few weeks later to start baking with rhubarb, but I use it as soon as humanly possible. Toasted almond frangipane is a lovely, creamy foil to the tartness of the rhubarb, and adds an extra layer of flavor without overwhelming the star ingredient.
Who would imagine browning deviled eggs to caramelize their edges and crisp their fillings? What a sensual turn with a hard-cooked egg. We owe the idea to Jacques Pépin and his memoir, The Apprentice: My Life in the Kitchen. The inspiration comes from war-torn France and a recipe born of scarcity that Jacques' mother created during World War II, though you'd never know it when you pick up your fork. This is the kind of double-edged story that we love to find in the things we eat.
In its way, żurek—pronounced “zhurek”—is the most humble of all Polish soups, and at the same time the most exotic, at least to the foreign palate. It has traditionally been eaten at Easter, but now is found on menus all year-round. Though distantly related to the bread and garlic soups of Spain and Italy, its base is not meat or vegetable broth, but zakwas. Zakwas is made from rye bread and water and is, in turn, distantly related both to sourdough and to Russian kvass (a fermented drink). In Poland, zakwas is available in bottles at ordinary supermarkets. Outside of Poland, you can find it in specialty ethnic markets, and even online. If you do have to make it yourself, although it sounds odd and intimidating, it is in fact extremely easy. But it does require planning a few days in advance.