I wouldn’t like to say how often this is my supper and, indeed, lunch the next day when I eat it cold with a sprinkling of capers. For, although it does indeed serve two, I love it too much to keep it for company. It is, frankly, absurd how quick and easy it is to make. And yet it has such depth and complexity of flavor: the squid brings with it the briny kiss of the sea; the smokiness of the paprika, the heat of the chile and the hit of the garlic give it a gutsiness that marries so well with the smooth, creamy beans. I adore the Spanish judión beans, which are soft, thin-skinned, extra-large butter beans, though you can, of course, use regular canned butter beans, or soak and cook dried butter beans yourself.
I am always looking for quick and easy weeknight meals, but I am never willing to sacrifice taste. That’s why I created this stew. It’s easy to make, and it’s literally bursting at the seams with flavor. I recommend making a double batch and freezing some. That way, on nights when you are feeling tired after work and want a comforting meal, you can defrost it in minutes and enjoy. For this recipe, I like using orzo or any small pasta shape, and if you are gluten-free, feel free to use a gluten-free pasta. Gluten-free pasta often requires a few more minutes of cooking time, so be sure to keep an eye on it. And while I love using spinach in this stew, use whatever greens you have on hand: kale, escarole, chard, or the like. Once the stew is done, I recommend adding a generous pinch of freshly grated cheese on top. Serve with a side of crusty sourdough bread.
This is a meatless riff on one of my all-time favorite sheet pan dinners: a spicy harissa-slathered chicken loaded with lemony leeks, crispy potatoes, and a salty, garlicky yogurt topping. Here, roasted cauliflower stands in for the poultry, and almonds are tossed in for crunch. Added bonus: without the chicken, this lively, highly festive meal comes together in a flash.
Almond flour has been a pantry staple in Paris for as long as anyone can remember. It happens to be less expensive than it is here and, perhaps because of the turnover, usually quite fresh. In the States, it’s still seen primarily as an alternative to flour for people with gluten sensitivity or for the health conscious, who like it for its protein content. Almond flour provides texture and taste, and it keeps a cake moist, as almonds are naturally high in fat. It’s for this reason that I use less oil than in an all-flour yogurt cake. The downside is that almond flour cakes don’t rise quite as high. Made with equal portions of flour and almond flour, however, lets you capture the best of both worlds. This cake is light, tender and moist and lasts for days. Like the classic yogurt cake, it plays well with spices, extracts, liqueur, syrups and floral waters. Here I’ve added sliced almonds to the top, for crunch.
Most North American Jews are familiar with sweet noodle kugels. But there are also many savory noodle kugel varieties, which can include garlic, onions, mushrooms, or even spinach. This kugel is a recipe from my husband’s grandmother, Baba Billie. It has an extra garlic kick, fantastic mouthfeel, and a nice crunchy top. You can use fresh garlic if you want, but I think the jarred garlic in oil really is the preferred ingredient.
This salad is my riff on kasha, the name given to toasted buckwheat groats cooked (in water or milk) throughout Russia and Ukraine. The word kasha basically translates as ‘porridge’ but although in the west we think of porridge as a breakfast food, kasha is commonly a comforting, hearty, savoury dish or side at lunch or dinner – often far less liquid and overcooked than oat porridge. By all means you can serve this salad hot, but I especially like it served at room temperature. The key really is toasting the buckwheat first – it brings out an extra nutty flavour and also stops it all from being too mushy.
In a large bowl, toss the green beans with the oil and salt until coated. Transfer to a grill basket (or a wire rack set on top of the grill), piling them a few beans high so the ones on top will steam as the ones below char over the fire. Toss the beans every couple of minutes, just until they’re tender and slightly charred, about 10 minutes total.
Sometimes the sauce makes the dish, and when you find a great one, it is worth having different preparations for the different seasons. We are evoking the spirit of tahini (one of our favourite sauces) with this, but making it with almonds in their skins, which brings a great nuttiness. We serve this at Honey & Smoke with peaches in summer, pears in autumn and sweet potatoes in winter. Spring is reserved for green vegetables and they don’t really work with this almond tahini, so we make a special, luxurious pistachio version instead to drizzle over grilled spring greens, dressed with lots of lime juice.
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.