Roman Frisée and Sugar Snap Salad
Grilled Peach and Tomato Salad
Southern Italian/Cold NYC Winter Salad
Duck Fat–Roasted Potato Salad with Mustardy Sauce
Carrot Ribbon Salad with Ginger, Parsley and Dates
Crispy Brussels Sprouts with Prosciutto Chips
Braised Red Cabbage with Pears and Cumin
Roasted Carrots with Carrot-Top Pesto
Cauliflower ‘Rice’ with Parmigiano
Cauliflower Steaks with Turmeric and Crunchy Almonds
Summer Corn with Chorizo and Cilantro (Coriander)
Tender Peas with Butter and Mint
Parsnip-Potato Puree with Butter and Chives
Baby Potatoes with Butter and Dill
Roasted Potato Wedges with Montreal Steak Seasoning
Roasted Sweet Potato Fries with Chimichurri
Frenchified Latkes with Chive Sour Cream
On family trips to Ottawa, my Uncle Andy and his family always greeted us with a steakhouse-worthy spread. My favourite dish was his Caesar salad with wedges of romaine and a tangy, salty, spicy dressing. I’ve updated it by charring whole cavalo nero leaves under the grill and serving them on a big platter, drizzled with my own version of Uncle Andy’s family-famous sauce. A generous dose of cracked black pepper gives the dish an extra kick. A kind of kale, cavalo nero has long, crinkled dark-green leaves that crisp up nicely in spots when grilled.
Serves 4 to 6
DRESSING
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
¾ teaspoon kosher salt
4 anchovy fillets, coarsely chopped
50g finely grated Parmesan, preferably pre-grated (see Tip), or Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 large egg yolks
1 level teaspoon finely grated lemon zest
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon honey
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
3 to 5 dashes hot sauce, such as Tabasco
125ml extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
SALAD
2 bunches cavalo nero (about 450g), thick fibrous ends trimmed, leaves left whole, rinsed and patted dry
Kosher salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
For the dressing: Mound the garlic and salt on a cutting board. Using a chef’s knife, mash and chop into a paste. On the same board, finely chop the anchovy fillets, then chop and smear them into the garlic paste.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the garlic paste, Parm, egg yolks, lemon zest and juice, Dijon, honey, Worcestershire, hot sauce, oil and a generous pinch or two of pepper. Taste the dressing and make sure it’s salty enough and well balanced. There should be a nice kick from the hot sauce, acidity from the lemon and a tiny hint of sweetness from the honey to round it all out. Adjust the seasoning to taste.
For the salad: Heat the grill to medium-high or heat a griddle pan over medium-high heat. (Or you can do this on a barbecue, just make sure most of the coals are covered with white ash, and you can hold your palm 2 to 5cm or an inch or two above the grill for no more than 2 to 3 seconds.)
In a large bowl, toss the kale with a generous pinch of salt and just enough oil to lightly coat. Cook the leaves, in batches if necessary, turning once, until you get a nice char, about 2 minutes per side.
Arrange the cooked leaves on a large serving platter, drizzling each one with dressing as you go and layering them if necessary. Serve with knives and forks, or, better yet, eat with your fingers.
Sacrilegious as it may seem to cheese snobs, the pre-grated Parm you find in the refrigerated section of the supermarket (not in the tin) offers a nice grittiness here. If you’re going with real Parmigiano-Reggiano, you can get a similar effect by grating the cheese on the small star-shaped holes of a box grater.
One of my best discoveries in Rome was a salad, available only during the winter months, that was made with puntarelle, a variety of chicory. The nonna at the restaurant soaked the sliced greens in iced water to lessen the bitterness and give them a lovely curl. Since puntarella is hard to come by in the US, I make my version with frisée, and, because I love peas, I add sugar snaps. Slicing the peas allows the dressing to seep into the inner cavity of each. When they are not in season, it’s better to leave them out. This simple salad is the essence of Italian cuisine, in which a few high-quality ingredients make for an incredible dish.
Serves 4
A small hunk of Pecorino Romano (about 115g)
1 small garlic clove, thinly sliced
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
6 anchovy fillets, finely chopped
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
225g frisée, trimmed and separated into leaves
150g sugar snap peas, trimmed, strings removed, peas thinly sliced lengthways
Freshly ground black pepper
Finely grate enough of the cheese to yield 35g. Set aside.
Mound the garlic and salt on a cutting board. Using a chef’s knife, mash and chop together to form a paste. On the same board, finely chop the anchovy fillets, then chop and smear them into the paste.
Transfer the garlic paste to a large bowl. Add the grated cheese and stir to combine, then whisk in the oil and lemon juice. Add the frisée and snap peas and toss to coat with the dressing.
Mound the salad on serving plates. Season with pepper to taste. Using a vegetable peeler or cheese plane, shave more cheese over the top.
If you can’t find frisée, try torn endive or even romaine. The latter, while not a bitter green, has sturdy leaves that hold up well in this salad.
A perfect peach is just poetry. In this salad, the fruit’s sweetness mingles with the bright, tangy juices of tomatoes, savoury herbs, fruity olive oil and a light touch of cheese. Heaven. This dish is a great accompaniment to a big grilled steak or vegetarian summer meal. I’ve made it with yellow or white peaches, doughnut peaches, and even nectarines, and all sorts of tomatoes (opt for heirlooms whenever you can). Pick whatever looks ripest and best at the market that day, and choose peaches and tomatoes that are relatively similar in size for the prettiest presentation.
Serves 4
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for the grill
3 medium firm-ripe yellow or white peaches (about 550g), cut into 2cm (¾in) thick wedges
10g fresh basil leaves
2 medium tomatoes (any colour or variety; about 450g), cut into 2cm (¾in) thick wedges
Flaky sea salt, such as Maldon
1 teaspoon champagne vinegar or white wine vinegar
50 to 75g chunk of Parmigiano-Reggiano
35g roasted salted almonds, preferably Marcona, coarsely chopped
Heat the grill to medium-high or heat a griddle pan over medium-high heat. (Or you can do this on a barbecue, just make sure most of the coals are covered with white ash, and you can hold your palm 2 to 5cm or an inch or two above the grill for no more than 2 to 3 seconds.) Lightly oil the grill grate.
Cook the peaches cut side down until nicely charred, 1 to 2 minutes, then turn and cook until lightly charred on the second cut side, another 1 minute or so. Transfer to a plate and let cool to room temperature.
Meanwhile, stack the basil leaves on top of each other, tightly roll up lengthways, and slice crossways into thin ribbons.
Arrange the peach and tomato wedges on a serving platter, alternating them in any sort of pattern you like (circles or rows). Top with several pinches of flaky salt, then drizzle with the oil and vinegar. Shave the cheese over the top, then sprinkle with the basil and almonds.
The peaches should be firm but ripe. Grilling them releases their juices, but they should have a bit of juice in them at the outset to get the ball rolling.
In the winter, when I long for fresh produce, I serve this citrus and fennel salad, which reminds me of Italy. Cutting the fennel as thin as humanly possible dials back some of the intensity of the anisey flavour, giving you more delicate but still crunchy strands of translucent goodness. Chilling the citrus makes the salad extra refreshing.
Serves 4
2 tablespoons shelled unsalted pistachios
About 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt
2 blood oranges, chilled
1 pink grapefruit, preferably small, chilled
1 navel orange, chilled
1 medium to large fennel bulb, preferably with fronds, stalks removed and fronds reserved (optional); bulb cut lengthways in half, cored and very thinly sliced
Flaky sea salt, such as Maldon
Freshly ground black pepper
1½ tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Heat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4, with a rack in the middle.
Spread the pistachios on a small baking tray and toast until fragrant, 4 to 5 minutes. Remove from the oven and immediately toss with ½ teaspoon oil and a generous pinch of kosher salt, then transfer to a plate to cool. Coarsely chop.
Using a sharp paring knife, trim off the tops and bottoms of the citrus fruits to expose the flesh. Stand one piece of fruit on end and cut away the peel and white pith, following the curve of the fruit from top to bottom. Repeat with the remaining citrus, then cut all the fruit crossways into 5mm (¼in) thick slices. Cut one slice (your choice of fruit) into small wedges and set aside for garnish. Arrange the remaining slices slightly overlapping on a serving platter.
In a medium bowl, toss together the fennel, a generous pinch each of flaky salt and pepper and 2 tablespoons oil, then arrange over the citrus. If you have fennel fronds, coarsely chop enough to yield 1 to 2 tablespoons.
Drizzle the salad with the lemon juice, then top with the pistachios, reserved citrus pieces, a couple good pinches of flaky salt and the fennel fronds, if using.
I like to use a mix of citrus here, because I love the variety of flavours – some sweet, others tangy. (Plus, the colours!) But you can also go single citrus, if you want to – this recipe is flexible. Purchase whatever you like best.
This decadent rustic salad was inspired by a recipe for duck fat–roasted potatoes, made by my dear friend and mentor Ted Allen. I serve it with a lemony yoghurt for dipping or swooshing – depending on whether you’re eating with your fingers or with a fork. Although the salad is good at room temp for summer dinners or picnics, it’s fantastic warm alongside Crispy-Skin Salmon (page 174), Chili-Maple Roasted Chicken (page 216) or Rosemary Pork Tenderloin (page 228).
Serves 4 to 6
POTATOES
900g fingerling potatoes or other small potatoes, scrubbed and cut lengthways in half
2 tablespoons duck fat, at room temperature (or substitute extra-virgin olive oil)
Kosher salt
175g thick-sliced pancetta, cut into 5mm (¼in) cubes, or thick-cut bacon, cut crossways into 1cm (½in) wide pieces
3 tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh tarragon
Freshly ground black pepper
DRESSING
60ml extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
2 teaspoons wholegrain mustard
1¾ teaspoons fresh lemon juice
1½ teaspoons honey
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
YOGHURT
375ml full-fat Greek yoghurt
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
1¼ teaspoons fresh lemon juice
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
⅛ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
For the potatoes: Heat the oven to 220°C/425°F/gas 7, with a rack in the middle. Put the potatoes on a baking tray and toss together with the duck fat (or oil) and ½ teaspoon salt. Arrange the potatoes cut side down on the sheet, leaving space between them to ensure a crisp brown finish, and roast until deeply golden, 25 to 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, place the pancetta or bacon in a large frying pan and cook over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally, until golden and crispy all over, 8 to 12 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer to kitchen paper to drain.
For the dressing: In a large bowl, whisk together all the ingredients until well combined.
For the yoghurt: In a bowl, stir together all the ingredients.
When your crispy potato babies are ready, transfer them to the bowl with the dressing. Add the pancetta and tarragon and toss to combine. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
Serve hot, warm, or at room temperature, with the yoghurt on the side or dolloped on top.
Duck fat is high in unsaturated and monounsaturated fats (the good kinds). It’s sold at gourmet markets and online, and it keeps well refrigerated for up to 6 months, or frozen indefinitely. I like to freeze it in small portions in ice cube trays, then pop out the frozen cubes and keep them in the freezer in a resealable bag. This way I don’t have to thaw and refreeze larger amounts. If you can’t get duck fat, you can sub olive oil in this recipe.
This salad evolved from my father’s favourite road-trip snack – carrot sticks with roasted almonds, lemon juice, and salt. I’ve punched it up with fresh ginger, lots of parsley and dates (you can almost feel the antioxidants at work!). I peel the carrots into thin ribbons so they crisp up and curl after a short soak in iced water. For even more beauty, try different colours of carrots.
Serves 4
450g medium carrots (about 6), preferably rainbow
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon peeled and grated fresh ginger
¾ teaspoon honey
Kosher salt
10g finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
70g roasted salted almonds, coarsely chopped
6 large Medjool dates, stoned and thinly sliced lengthways
Using a vegetable peeler, shave the carrots into long, thin slices, watching out for your fingers. Soak, along with any remaining carrot nubs, in a bowl of iced water until the slices curl, about 15 minutes. Drain and pat dry.
In a large salad bowl, whisk together the oil, lemon juice, ginger, honey and ⅛ teaspoon salt. Add the carrots, parsley, half the almonds and half the dates and toss to combine. Adjust the salt to taste.
Top the salad with the remaining almonds and dates and serve.
I like Y-shaped peelers because of their super-sharp blades and easy-to-grip handles. To peel fresh ginger quickly and easily, use the tip of a small spoon to scrape away the skin.
Eggs and asparagus are as iconic a pairing as the Queen and her corgis. In this version, the asparagus is roasted, then covered with mashed soft-cooked eggs with liquid-gold yolks and sprinkled with crispy bits of salty, meaty pancetta. A little bit of vinegar brightens up the dish, balancing the fat and turning the runny eggs into a dressing of sorts. Serve this with both forks and spoons.
Serves 4 to 6
675g asparagus, preferably medium
1½ tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves
Kosher salt
4 large eggs
1 (115g) chunk pancetta, cut into 75mm (⅓in) cubes
1½ teaspoons red wine vinegar
Freshly ground black pepper
Heat the oven to 220°C/425°F/gas 7, with a rack in the lower third.
Cut off and discard 2.5cm (1in) from the bottom ends of the asparagus. Then, using a vegetable peeler, peel the lower 2.5 to 5cm (1 to 2in) of the stalks. Put the asparagus on a baking tray and toss with the oil, thyme and ⅛ teaspoon salt. Spread out the asparagus and roast until the spears are tender but still have a good bite, 12 to 15 minutes.
Meanwhile, fill a medium saucepan with 7.5cm (3in) of water and bring to a simmer. Using a slotted spoon, gently lower the eggs into the water, taking care not to drop them. Cook for exactly 6 minutes, then transfer the eggs to a bowl of iced water and let cool for about 5 minutes. Drain, gently peel and place in a small bowl.
While the eggs are cooking, cook the pancetta in a dry frying pan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until the pieces are golden and most of their fat has rendered, 6 to 7 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.
Using a fork, mash the eggs with the vinegar and a scant ½ teaspoon salt until a slightly frothy sauce forms.
Arrange the asparagus on a serving platter. Drizzle with the oozy egg mixture, then top with the crispy pancetta and a generous pinch or two of pepper.
Many cooks just snap off the ends of asparagus, which removes the tough, woody parts, but it also often takes off some of the edible portion. A less wasteful way to go is to cut off and discard about 2.5cm (1in) from the bottom of each spear, then use a vegetable peeler to remove 2.5 to 5cm (1 to 2in) of the peel from the freshly cut bottoms. This is especially important for thicker asparagus, since the peels get tougher as the stalks grow.
Brussels sprouts are one of my favourite vegetables, and I’ve had them every which way. At home, I always come back to keeping them simple: charred on the outside, with a nice firm-tender bite in the centre. Prosciutto chips add a deliciously smoky, meaty umami bite.
Serves 4
75g thinly sliced prosciutto, preferably the packet sort
675g Brussels sprouts
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon zest
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Heat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4, with a rack in the middle. Line a baking tray with baking parchment.
Arrange the prosciutto slices on the baking tray, leaving a little space between them. Bake until they are shrivelled and dark red and the fatty edges are golden, 12 to 15 minutes; keep an eye on them to prevent burning. Place the prosciutto ‘chips’ on a wire rack set over a baking tray to cool; they will crisp as they cool.
Meanwhile, cut the Brussels sprouts lengthways in half through the stem end. Make a V-shaped incision at the base of each sprout half. Remove and discard any blemished outer leaves.
Heat 1 tablespoon of the butter and 1 tablespoon of the oil in a large frying pan, preferably cast-iron, over medium-high heat until the foam subsides. (The pan needs to be superhot, so test it with a sprout leaf to see if it crisps upon contact.) Place about one-third of the Brussels sprouts in the pan, arranging them so they are mostly cut side down, with a little space between them. Reduce the heat to medium and cook until the undersides are deeply golden, about 3 minutes. Turn the sprouts over, sprinkle with a pinch of salt, and continue cooking until golden and tender, 3 to 4 minutes more. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the Brussels sprouts to a large serving bowl. Repeat with the remaining butter, oil and sprouts.
Crumble the prosciutto chips into small pieces and add to the bowl with the Brussels sprouts. Add the lemon zest and lemon juice, then toss to combine. Season with salt to taste. Serve hot.
Cutting a little V into the base of each sprout makes for even cooking while keeping the leaves intact.
The Polish boy in me longs for this classic on cold winter nights. Braising is a simple technique that concentrates flavours by using low heat, a bit of liquid and a sealed or partially covered saucepan. Pears offer a nice change of pace from the usual apple in this dish, and I love the way their sweet gritty texture half dissolves and cooks into the vinegar and cabbage juices. A knob of butter stirred in at the end adds a glossy sheen and the perfect little touch of fat (read: flavour boost), but you can leave it out, if you prefer. This makes a great side for Pork Chop like at Kiki’s Taverna (page 225) or Kielbasa Polish-Style (page 199). But I often pair it with a bunch of sides for a meat-free spread. The photograph is on page 227.
Serves 4 to 6
2 firm-ripe Williams pears
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 large red cabbage (900g to 1.1kg), quartered, cored and cut crossways into thin strips
2 bay leaves
½ teaspoon cumin seeds
Kosher salt
90ml apple cider vinegar
2 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoon unsalted butter (optional)
Freshly ground black pepper
Quarter and core the pears. Coarsely grate them or cut them into 5mm (¼in) pieces.
Heat the oil in a large casserole or other wide heavy saucepan with a lid over medium heat. Add the pears, then stir in the cabbage, bay leaves, cumin seeds and ½ teaspoon salt and cook, stirring frequently, until the cabbage begins to wilt, about 5 minutes.
Add 60ml of the vinegar and 2 tablespoons water. Cover the pan and gently simmer over medium-low heat, stirring once or twice, until the cabbage is tender but still retains a touch of bite, 14 to 16 minutes.
Remove the pan from the heat and remove and discard the bay leaves. Stir in the honey, the remaining 2 tablespoons vinegar and the butter, if desired. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Serve hot.
Like any braised dish, this tastes even better a day or two after you make it. To warm it before serving, gently heat it in a covered saucepan over low heat, with 1 to 2 tablespoons of water added.
I love carrots pretty hard, and I really get off on figuring out uses for parts of an ingredient I might normally toss. The ‘discovery’ of using carrot tops to make pesto (I’m not the first to think of it) is a great example. The slight bitterness of the herbaceous greens is a great match for the sweet roasted carrots, but you can also use it in place of basil pesto for pasta, or to top other roasted vegetables or grilled salmon or chicken.
Serves 4 to 6
2 bunches medium carrots with tops (10 to 12 carrots)
1½ teaspoons red wine vinegar
95ml extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
Kosher salt
3 tablespoons pine nuts
1 small garlic clove
50g finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
250ml full-fat Greek yoghurt
Freshly ground black pepper
Heat the oven to 220°C/425°F/gas 7, with racks in the middle and lower thirds.
Leaving about 2.5cm (1in) of the stems on, cut off the tops from the carrots and reserve. (The little bit of stems that you leave on the carrots, which turn crispy during roasting, are freakin’ delicious. You’ll thank me later.) Rinse the carrots and pat dry (don’t peel). If your carrots are larger than 1 to 2cm (½ to ¾in) in diameter at the top end, cut lengthways in half.
Arrange the carrots on a baking tray. Drizzle with the vinegar, 1½ tablespoons of the oil, and ½ teaspoon salt and toss to coat. Arrange the carrots in a single layer and roast on the lower oven rack until golden and tender, 25 to 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, spread the pine nuts on a small baking tray. Toast on the middle oven rack, stirring once or twice, until lightly golden, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from the oven, transfer the nuts to a plate and let cool.
Pull off enough of the leaves from the carrot tops to yield 100g; wash and spin-dry.
In a food processor, pulse the garlic and toasted pine nuts to a coarse paste. Add the carrot tops, Parmesan and ¼ teaspoon salt and pulse again to combine, scraping down the sides of the bowl once or twice. While processing, add the remaining 75ml oil in a slow, steady stream. (I like to keep my pesto rather thick for this recipe and then drizzle the dish later with more olive oil. If you prefer a looser pesto, add 1 to 2 tablespoons more oil.)
When the carrots are ready, spread 60ml of the yoghurt on a serving platter. Pile the carrots on top. Dollop with the remaining 175ml yoghurt, then spoon the pesto on top. Drizzle with oil and sprinkle with pepper.
When it’s blitzed in a food processor, raw cauliflower becomes light and fluffy – like rice or couscous, but with lower carbs (hence its popularity). I add Parm and fresh parsley to complement its sweet, nutty flavour. Although you can now buy packets of cauliflower ‘rice’ at some markets, ricing the cauliflower yourself takes just a minute and delivers a fresher and more robust flavour. Enjoy this as a side dish, toss into pasta or over salads or tuck into pitta sandwiches – or snack on leftovers straight from the fridge.
Serves 4
1 medium to large head cauliflower (675 to 900g), rough stem end trimmed
3 tablespoons olive oil
Kosher salt
100g finely grated Parmesan, preferably Parmigiano-Reggiano
10g finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Cut the cauliflower florets and tender stem into 2.5cm (1in) pieces and place in a food processor (don’t fill the bowl more than three-quarters full; work in batches if necessary). Pulse until the cauli is finely chopped into grain-like pieces. Alternatively, you can use the small holes of a box grater to rice the cauliflower.
In a large frying pan, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the cauliflower, sprinkle with ½ teaspoon salt, and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened but with a slight bite, 5 to 7 minutes. Sprinkle with the cheese, parsley and pepper, stir to combine, and remove from the heat. Adjust the seasoning to taste and serve.
The fine shreds of cheese that you get when you use a Microplane rasp-type grater melt into this ‘rice’ beautifully. If you don’t have one, any fine grater will do.
One day I picked up a head of cauliflower at the supermarket with no plan in mind, just a bit of faith that my larder staples back home would inspire. Indeed they did! First, some gochujang – the savoury-sweet fermented Korean chilli paste. Marcona almonds for nuttiness and texture. Sticky dates for their rich caramel sweetness. This dish is vegan – great after a weekend of indulgence. Serve it with rice or your favourite grain and make it a meal. The photo is on pages 98–99.
Serves 2 or 3
CAULIFLOWER
1 large head cauliflower (about 675g pounds)
60ml olive oil
2 teaspoons ground turmeric
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
4 large Medjool dates, stoned and thinly sliced lengthways
25g loosely packed fresh coriander leaves
3 tablespoons roasted salted almonds, preferably Marcona
DRESSING
3 tablespoons finely chopped tender fresh coriander stems
2 tablespoons gochujang or Sriracha
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice (from 1 large lime)
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon honey
Pinch of kosher salt
Heat the oven to 220°C/425°F/gas 7, with a rack in the middle.
Remove and reserve any green leaves from the cauliflower, then trim and discard the rough part of the stem. Cut the cauliflower lengthways into two or three 2cm (¾in) thick steak-like slices. The rest will fall apart, but that’s OK – it will still taste great.
In a small bowl, whisk together the oil, turmeric and salt. Arrange the cauliflower steaks and pieces, along with any leaves, on a baking tray, drizzle with the oil mixture, and gently turn the cauliflower with your fingers to coat. Roast until golden and tender but not at all mushy, 25 to 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, make the dressing: In a jar with a lid or in a medium bowl, vigorously shake or whisk together all of the ingredients.
Arrange the roast cauliflower on a platter and drizzle with the dressing. Top with the dates, coriander leaves and almonds. Serve hot.
Gochujang, Korean chilli paste, is available at Korean markets, many large supermarkets and online. If you can’t find it, you can substitute Sriracha here.
Cauliflower Steaks with Turmeric and Crunchy Almonds (page 97)
Five ingredients. Fifteen minutes. That’s all this simple summer side dish takes. I enjoy a bowl solo but also serve it as a side for steak, fish and chicken dishes. It makes a super-delicious taco filling too. The key is not to overcook the corn, so it maintains a nice plumpness and bite.
Serves 4
1 (200g) packet Spanish (dried) chorizo, cut into cubes
3 corn cobs, kernels removed
25g coarsely chopped fresh coriander – leaves and tender stems
50g finely grated Parmesan, preferably Parmigiano-Reggiano
2 teaspoons grated lime zest
1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons fresh lime juice (from 1 large lime)
Kosher salt
Heat a large frying pan over medium heat until very hot but not smoking. Toss in the chorizo and cook, undisturbed, until crispy on the bottom, about 5 minutes. Then continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until crispy all over, about 5 minutes more.
Add the corn and cook until it is warm and crisp-tender, 1 to 2 minutes, then stir in the coriander, cheese, lime zest, lime juice and a pinch of salt. Cook for 1 minute more, then remove from the heat. Adjust the seasoning to taste. Serve hot.
Dried chorizo is a robust-flavoured hard Spanish (or Spanish-style) pork sausage, seasoned with smoked paprika (pimentón) and other spices. It’s great for cooking or simply slicing and serving with cheeses or other cured meats. Look for it in the ethnic food section or with the other cured meats at larger supermarkets, or order it online.
If there’s one takeaway from this book, it’s my love for frozen peas. I eat them with abandon, steamed and tossed with tinned tuna, olive oil and lemon juice for a quick snack any day of the week. I add them to rice dishes, many of my pastas and all sorts of other dishes, as well as sauces and stews: stroganoff, beef bourguignon, coq au vin, tagine, Bolognese, tomato sauce . . . I throw them into omelettes or egg scrambles, where they add a pop of green brightness. I blitz peas into a puree or fork-mash them in a bowl with some extra-virgin olive oil and salt and eat them just like that.
If I’m missing a veg side for a Sunday meal or dinner party, all I have to do is pull a bag from the freezer. They’re an old-school classic, a new-school darling, super-healthy and so inexpensive! Here they’re in one of their most simple and perfect states, and you can pair them with anything or just eat them straight from the frying pan. My intro to this dish is longer than the time it takes to make ’em. You’re welcome.
Serves 4
1 (450g) bag frozen peas
2 tablespoons salted butter
10 large fresh mint leaves, torn
Flaky sea salt, such as Maldon
While they’re still in the bag, gently squish the peas to break up large clumps. Transfer them to a large frying pan, add 3 tablespoons water and heat over medium-high heat, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon until any still-frozen clumps are mostly broken up, 2 to 5 minutes.
Throw in 1 tablespoon of the butter and continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until the peas are bright green and tender, about 2 minutes more. Try one every now and then; you want them to remain plump (limit wrinkles, please).
Add the remaining tablespoon of butter and the mint and toss together, then season with flaky salt to taste. Serve hot.
Parsnips, earthy, nutty and sweet, look a lot like cream-coloured carrots. Cooked with a bit of potato, they make a silky puree that plays well with Scallops with Carrot Butter and Crispy Capers (page 208), Cast-Iron Butter-Basted Steak (page 224) and Macadamia-Crusted Lamb Lollies with Spicy Honey Agrodolce (page 230).
Serves 4
900g parsnips, preferably small to medium, peeled and cut crossways into 5cm (2in) pieces
1 small Yukon Gold potato (115g), peeled and quartered
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh chives or flat-leaf parsley, or a mix
In a medium saucepan, combine the parsnips, potato and 500ml water. Bring just to a boil, reduce the heat to medium-low, cover and simmer until the vegetables are very soft, 10 to 15 minutes.
Using a slotted spoon, transfer the vegetables to a food processor, reserving the cooking liquid. Add 2 tablespoons of the butter, a generous pinch each of salt and pepper, and a about 125ml of the reserved cooking liquid. Puree until smooth. Adjust the seasoning to taste, then fold in the herbs, leaving a little to sprinkle on top.
Transfer the puree to a serving dish and swirl decoratively with a rubber spatula. Dot with the remaining tablespoon of butter and sprinkle with the reserved herbs. Serve.
If you’re going dairy-free or just prefer a lighter dish, use a good-quality extra-virgin olive oil in place of the butter. For a more rustic look and feel, mash the parsnips with a potato masher or fork instead of pureeing them.
This dish of creamy baby potatoes with bursting delicate skins, tossed in salty butter with a good dose of dill, is more than the sum of its parts. Served at room temperature, it makes a great alternative to a mayo-based potato salad, with no worries about leaving it out in the heat. You can pair it with Crispy-Skin Salmon with Horseradish Cream Sauce (page 174) or Cast-Iron Butter-Basted Steak (page 224), if you like.
Serves 4
450g baby potatoes (diameter of around 2.5 to 4cm/1 to 1½in; any colour/variety), scrubbed
2 to 3 tablespoons coarsely chopped fresh dill (to taste)
2 tablespoons salted ordinary or cultured butter, cut into cubes
Flaky sea salt, such as Maldon
Place the potatoes in a medium saucepan, add cold water to cover by 5cm (2in), and bring to a boil, then reduce to an active simmer. Cook until the potatoes are tender and can be easily pierced with a fork or skewer, 8 to 12 minutes, depending on their size.
Drain the potatoes in a colander, then transfer to a large bowl. Add half of the dill, half of the butter and a good pinch of flaky salt. Gently toss until the butter is melted. Top with the remaining butter and dill and season with more salt to taste.
Serve the potatoes warm or at room temperature.
Salted butter seems to penetrate the skins of these hot boiled spuds better than unsalted. If you want to get really fancy, try a cultured butter, which has a higher fat content than most commercially made butters, making it creamier and more flavourful.
It was a happy surprise for me to find Montreal Steak Seasoning (a little piece of my home) in the United States. Every Montrealer knows this blend, and although you’ll find several brands in the spice section of most mainstream US supermarkets, it’s not as commonly known in the UK. So I’m glad to introduce you to what might become your new favourite seasoning: a mix of spices that, along with black pepper and cayenne, often includes garlic, paprika, coriander and dill. A great seasoning for burgers, fish, roasts and the rim of a Bloody Mary glass, I also love it on these crispy potatoes. Roasting the spuds on a preheated baking tray gives you ultra-golden edges without frying.
Serves 4
675g Yukon Gold or other yellow potatoes, cut lengthways into 1cm (½in) wedges
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 heaping tablespoon Montreal Steak Seasoning, such as Schwartz (see headnote)
Finely chopped fresh chives for garnish (optional)
Heat the oven to 220°C/425°F/gas 7, with a rack in the lower third.
Place a baking tray (not non-stick) on the lower oven rack and heat for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, in a large bowl, toss together the potatoes, oil and steak seasoning.
Remove the baking tray from the oven and immediately add the potatoes, scraping any excess oil and seasoning from the bowl. Spread the potatoes out in a single layer, cut side down, and roast until the bottoms and edges of the potatoes are golden, 35 to 40 minutes.
Using a metal spatula, loosen the potatoes and toss, then continue roasting to further deepen the colour and crispiness, about 5 minutes more.
Serve the potatoes hot, sprinkled with chives, if desired.
I love the happy accidents that occur (often out of desperation!) when I put together a few things from whatever is in the fridge or cupboard and come up with a great new dish in the process. In this case, it was some leftover roasted sweet potatoes, drizzled with a little sauce from a steak dinner the night before and then sprinkled with Parm. Now it’s on regular rotation in my kitchen. Tangy, garlicky chimichurri (aka Argentina’s answer to pesto) is better than ketchup on sweet potato fries. Make this one for a family night or small dinner party. It’s as fun to eat as it is to prepare. Chimichurri is also great drizzled over a rotisserie chicken, grilled pork chops, and shrimp.
Serves 4
CHIMICHURRI
15g finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
90ml extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons finely chopped shallots or red onion
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 small garlic clove, finely chopped
½ teaspoon red chilli flakes
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
FRIES
1.3kg sweet potatoes (not peeled – healthy!)
60ml olive oil
½ teaspoon kosher salt
35g finely grated Parmesan, preferably Parmigiano-Reggiano
Freshly ground black pepper
For the chimichurri: In a medium bowl, stir together all of the ingredients. Let stand at room temperature to let the flavour of the sauce develop while you make the fries, or for up to 1 hour.
For the fries: Heat the oven to 230°C/450°F/gas 8, with racks in the middle and upper thirds. Heat two 32 x 45cm (13 x 18in) baking trays (not non-stick) in the oven for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, cut the sweet potatoes into sticks about 1cm (½in) wide and 5cm to 10cm (2 to 4 in) long, depending on the size of your potatoes. In a large bowl, toss the potatoes with the oil and salt.
Arrange the sweet potatoes in a single layer on the hot baking trays. Roast, rotating the sheets and switching their positions on the racks halfway through, until the potatoes are golden and cooked through, 20 to 22 minutes.
Sprinkle the potatoes with the Parm and pepper and drizzle with a few tablespoons of the chimichurri. Serve with the rest of the sauce on the side for dipping.
Let the freshly made sauce sit at room temperature for at least 15 minutes, or up to an hour, to allow the flavours to develop.
You don’t have to be Jewish to love these crispy potato pancakes! I French mine up by adding nutty Comté or Gruyère cheese and serve them with big spoonfuls of chivey sour cream.
Makes about 2 dozen 5cm (2in) latkes
CHIVE SOUR CREAM
225ml full-fat sour cream
2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh chives, plus more for sprinkling
Finely grated zest of ½ lemon
Pinch of kosher salt
LATKES
900g russet (baking) or Yukon Gold potatoes
1 medium sweet or yellow onion
115g coarsely grated Gruyère, Comté or Emmental
1 large egg, beaten
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
Kosher salt
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Neutral oil, such as rapeseed, for shallow-frying
For the chive sour cream: In a small bowl, stir together all of the ingredients.
For the latkes: Heat the oven to its lowest temperature. Line a plate with kitchen paper.
Peel the potatoes, then coarsely grate. Do the same with the onion. Wrap the vegetables together in a clean tea towel and squeeze out all the water.
In a large bowl, stir together the potato mixture, cheese, egg, thyme, ¾ teaspoon salt and the pepper.
In a large frying pan, heat 3mm (¼in) of oil over medium-high heat until shimmering. (You can test the heat with a shred of potato before you begin frying; when the oil is ready, the potato shred will sizzle and bubble on contact.) Working in batches, spoon about 2 tablespoons of the potato mixture into the pan for each latke, gently pressing down with a spatula to flatten them. Reduce the heat to medium and fry, turning once, until the latkes are golden and crisp on both sides, about 3 minutes per side. Transfer to the kitchen paper to drain, then season with salt. Place on a baking tray and keep warm in the oven while you fry the remaining batches.
Serve the latkes warm with the sour cream and chives on the side.
Lentils are quick enough for weeknight cooking, healthy, filling and, most important, delicious. Belugas are my favourite variety, named for their shiny black colour and beady resemblance to caviar. (The name is also so elegant to say.) This dish goes with everything, and it keeps well for several days. Enjoy as a side or combine it with chopped kale, sliced hot dogs or even an oozy egg. Think meal prep, guys!
Serves 4
200g beluga lentils, rinsed and picked over
10g finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, plus 3 leafy sprigs
1 garlic clove, gently smashed but not peeled
1 bay leaf
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 small carrot, finely diced
1 celery stalk, finely diced
35g finely diced onion
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
In a medium saucepan, combine the lentils, parsley sprigs, garlic and bay leaf. Add water to cover by 5cm (2in) and bring just to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer uncovered until the lentils are tender yet still a touch firm to the bite, 18 to 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, in a medium frying pan, heat 1 tablespoon of the oil over medium heat. Add the carrot, celery and onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender yet still a touch firm to the bite, 5 to 7 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl and stir in a pinch each of salt and pepper. Set the frying pan aside.
Just before the lentils are ready, stir together the vinegar, the remaining 2 tablespoons oil, the Dijon, ½ teaspoon salt and a generous pinch of pepper in the frying pan and heat over low heat just until warm to the touch (do not simmer or boil), 1 to 2 minutes. Remove from the heat.
Drain the lentils. Discard the parsley, garlic and bay leaf. Add the warm lentils, warm vinaigrette and chopped parsley to the bowl of vegetables and stir to combine. Adjust the salt and pepper to taste. Serve warm or at room temperature.
You can substitute any small variety of lentil that holds its shape when cooked, such as French Puy lentils.