Tanto was the nickname we gave one of my close childhood friends. He is a priest today, and I sometimes wonder if anyone who knows him as Father Francis realizes that once upon a time, his irreverent friends affectionately renamed him after the elephants (tantors) in the land of Tarzan, whose comic books we consumed voraciously. When we were young, a bunch of us went camping together a lot. Each of us was responsible for a meal, and for whatever reason, Tanto always made a tomato-potato curry. Truth be told, this is nothing at all like his original dish, but I still think of him every time I make it. Some memories are funny that way. This curry is hearty and delicious; it’s not very saucy, so don’t be surprised by that (for more on what a curry is and is not, see page 19).
The final version of the cookies has a very special mix of sweet, salty, buttery, crunchy, chewy, and earthy. Taste for yourself.
A great way to kick off the start of barbecue season, these lively skewers pack a lot of flavor. Taking a cue (wink) from Northern Chinese barbecue, we dust the skewers in a fennel seedy spice blend when they come off the grill. The crisp asparagus-and-fennel salad is a fun contrast to the meaty, smoky skewers—perfect for a cool, late-spring evening with friends. To round out the meal, we highly recommend pairing these with the Pine Nut Pepper Schmear (page 110).
Lupini beans are most widely known in the Mediterranean Basin and often eaten brined as a snack. I’ve only ever bought processed lupini beans because I read about how one needs to meticulously rinse them to remove the toxic alkaloids that give them a distinct bitterness not dissimilar to uncured olives, which got me to thinking about how I love olives and dark cherries together. Which, naturally, made me think about brining cherries to cure a bit like an olive. And now, here we are.
Some of my most memorable recipe breakthroughs are a result of error, mistakes, and happenstance. I try to reframe even the most upsetting accidents as a potential victory or chance for growth: Does it help me examine a recipe or dish from another angle? Is there something I can learn from my failure? Can I repurpose my mistake in some way? The answer is yes!
In the process of revising my favorite biscotti recipe, I accidentally doubled the amount of butter and sugar. Butter isn’t even a traditional ingredient in biscotti, so what happens when you add twice as much? In the oven, the log spreads like inching lava, finally settling into a flat, bronzed disc. Once the disk is cooled, sliced into thin spears, and baked again, the result is a super-crisp cookie, studded with toasted fennel seeds, dark chocolate, and whole hazelnuts.
A small tumbler of vin santo or espresso for dunking would be a heavenly accompaniment. Cheers to happy accidents and faux biscotti.
My Ammamma used to say that you were already aged two on your first birthday, that wearing a bra really showed a lack of decorum, and that Jaffna’s famous crab curry should be cooked like meat. Look, we didn’t agree about everything, but on crab, or nandu, and I know everyone says this about their own granny, there just isn’t a greater authority. And of Sri Lanka’s hundreds of lovely curry recipes, Jaffna crab curry is widely regarded as our best.
Nicole Taylor highlights one of her favorite spice blends from her book Watermelon and Red Birds in this weekend hash. It makes two cups of seasoning, but if you’re anything like Nicole, you’ll have a jar of this on the counter for everyday use. As an intuitive cook, she recommends vibing how much spice to use when cooking the hash. Want more after it’s cooked? Feel free to sprinkle more- we certainly did!
Too often a bit part player, peppercorns here shine as the star performer. Used in quantity, they bring a bold piquancy that hints at an early Asian heat before chilies were brought to the continent. This is balanced by their fragrance as well as by a tangle of sweet, caramelized onions. Use Tellicherry peppercorns if you can as they are especially grassy and bright.
Pepper is native to the steamy, knotted jungles of the Indian Ghats, thriving in the cycles of heavy monsoon rain and sultry heat. Walk through rural areas during harvest and you will have to weave around patches of peppercorns left out to dry in the hot sun.
The truth is, most tomato salads don’t need a recipe. Vinegar, olive oil, plenty of crunchy salt, and call it a day. If you have some herbs on hand, throw those in. What would a tomato salad look like if it deserved a recipe? Something like this. Very savory. Topped with garlic-chile crisp and dressed with its delicious oil. Anchovies and fennel seeds heighten the tomato’s flavor while bringing even more savory undertones. It’s spicy, with the chile flakes. This isn’t a simple caprese that you whipped up on a summer afternoon. It’s still simple but steals the show.
It might seem a hassle to roast the fennel and tomatoes separately, but it does make things easier when you come to assemble this, as each element stays intact and keeps its shape.