I love using filo pastry in my cooking – it’s so satisfyingly crunchy, which means
it acts as a brilliant base for tarts like this one. Pastry is yet another one of those things that people swear off because it’s ‘bad’ for them. But in the context of a healthy diet, I’m a firm believer that there’s room for all the foods you love – and
I love this filo tart. Loaded with vegetables and topped with eggs, feta and pesto, this is just one combination that works. Feel free to get creative and try it with other ingredients, like tomatoes and mozzarella, or butternut squash and goats’ cheese. The filo world is your oyster.
I come back time and again to this pie (or, in the more American sense, tart). It is as much a staple at a festive party (topped with whitefish or salmon caviar) as it is at a simple dinner with friends. Creamy, salty and full of flavor, it is ridiculously easy to make. Traditionally, we make it with Västerbottensost, a Swedish hard cheese with a sharp, salty character. You might find Västerbottensost difficult to track down, so an extra sharp cheddar or aged gruyère works just as well.
Convert the fish hater in your life (there’s always one).
When I think of the foods that truly symbolize growing up on Long Island, one of them has to be the humble corn muffin. Bagel shop (or, as we call it, “bagel place”) and deli culture is something we Long Islanders take very seriously. Both establishments require great bagels, buttered kaiser rolls, bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwiches, thin chicken cutlets, massive slabs of crumb cake, overly sweetened iced tea lemonades (we call them half and halfs), and cakey corn muffins. No matter what you’re ordering, you always ask for the side-car corn muffin, which is cut in half, buttered, and toasted on the griddle. You’ll be handed a grease-stained brown paper bag with a massive, yellow corn muffin inside, with a quarter pound of softened margarine plopped in the center. The muffin is somehow moist yet dry. And most of the time only half of it ends up in your mouth because it shatters into a million bits on your lap. (I still think my parents are cleaning crumbs out of their cars from decades ago LOL.) Despite the mess, they are a sweet and savory staple and something I will forever crave. When creating this recipe, I wanted all the flavors of corn muffins past—but with a slightly less crumbly texture for an even more enjoyable eating experience.
I don’t know a single child who doesn’t love a bowl of warm, buttered pasta—a dish that’s simple, satisfying, recognizable, safe, and comforting. This is my grown-up version, full of lusty garlic and anchovies in a butter sauce built on a white wine reduction. It’s the dinner I make when there’s “nothing to eat” in the house or when I just need my dinner to feel like a hug. For the best buttery sauce, be sure to add your butter and hot pasta cooking water bit by bit to help form the emulsion, like the process used when making beurre blanc.
This Cottage Cheesecake recipe originated from my great-grandmother and was a cheesecake my dad and Springfield Creamery co-founder, Chuck Kesey, loved to make. Delicious crust, easy to put together and the cottage cheese gives it a richer texture. The crystalized ginger on top is a favorite, but we have often topped with fresh berries as well - perfect!
A happy marriage between a roulade and a quiche! Usually roulade is sweet, but the technique works well for a savory treat too. The creamy celery root and parsnip filling adds a touch of luxury and finesse. I usually serve this as an appetizer, but it also makes an ideal veggie entrée to feed 4 people.
Omelettes were a huge part of my diet when I was growing up. They were something quick and easy for my dad to make for us when our mum was in hospital in Kolkata for her radiotherapy treatments. We would roll these omelettes up inside flatbreads or place them between two slices of bread toasted in a pan to make a sandwich, then eat them – always with tomato ketchup.
Tarte Tatin
Since beef was expensive in Japan when I was growing up, it was a real treat when my grandmother, Hatsuko Ishikawa, invited us over for a meatloaf with amakara (salty and sweet) sauce, made with soy sauce, honey, and vinegar. She made hers in a round cast-iron skillet and always served it with potatoes, which were tossed in the pan (with the lid closed) to make them fluffy. This recipe is enhanced with a miso-infused shiitake mushroom sauce, my own wafu version of meatloaf.