ROAST CHICKEN with GARLIC, LEMON, and HERBS
CHICKEN with PANCETTA and SUN-DRIED TOMATOES
ROAST DUCK with LEMON and ROSEMARY
TUSCAN-STYLE RIB-EYE STEAK with ROSEMARY, GARLIC, and PEPPER
BALSAMIC VINEGAR-MARINATED SKIRT STEAK
RUSSIAN HAMBURGER with STROGANOFF MUSHROOMS
PORK TENDERLOIN with TWO MARINADES
LAMB STEAK with GREEK TOMATO SAUCE and FETA
CALVES’ LIVER with ONION and SAGE
While vegetables and grains are always an essential part of my diet, I choose to eat meat and/or poultry a few times a week. They are economical with my time and my budget, and they can be purchased a few days in advance of the meal without fear of spoilage. Also, with one meal I can prepare enough for leftovers and creative recycles.
I always prefer the taste and texture of poultry cooked on the bone. But boneless cuts have their usefulness, especially when time and ease are considerations. Roasting a whole chicken takes more than an hour, while a boneless chicken breast can be sautéed in ten minutes. Boneless chicken can be diced and tossed with pasta or risotto, poached in soup, or skewered and broiled. I prefer using dark meat for most boneless chicken preparations, as it is moister and delivers more taste.
Although my favorite cut of lamb is the leg, I will not roast a whole leg just for me. Leg of lamb is lean and doesn’t reheat well, so I save it for family and company occasions. For solo suppers, I rely on lamb steaks cut from the leg, or loin or rib chops. As for pork, I find most chops and roasts too dry because now pigs are raised to be lean, with little of the marbling that provides moisture. The ideal cut for me is the tenderloin, which cooks quickly and remains moist. Again, I save large pork roasts for company, as they tend to dry out when reheated.
For beef suppers, I prefer rib-eye steaks, hanger steaks, and skirt steaks. I am not crazy about hamburgers on a bun, but I like them served on the plate with an appropriate sauce. Brisket, rib roast, and other large cuts are reserved for company dinners. Veal is ideal for a quick supper if it is cut into scallopini and sautéed or if it is a rib or loin chop and broiled.
I have selected some of my old standbys, from Calves’ Liver with Onion and Sage to Balsamic Vinegar-Marinated Skirt Steak, so that they might become part of your solo supper repertoire.
I know that boneless, skinless chicken breasts are the answer to the question of what a solo cook should prepare for dinner. After all, they are fast, easy, and come in individual portions. But they are not my first choice when I have a craving for chicken. Nothing pleases me more than a succulent whole roasted bird. It is juicier, tastier, and comes with crackly skin. The payoff is that I will have glorious leftovers for another meal and maybe even two. And the smells in the house are worth the wait. I try to find a kosher chicken because they have been brined and are especially tasty. If my market is out of them, I buy a local free-range bird and rub it with salt and lemon. If I have time, I might put it in a brine solution, but more often than not, I pick one up and get cooking with little preparation.
1 roasting chicken, about 31/2 to 4 pounds
1 juicy lemon, quartered
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 cloves garlic, 2 crushed and 2 minced
2 teaspoons dried oregano or chopped fresh rosemary or tarragon
1/4 cup pure olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon coarsely cracked black pepper
Preheat the oven to 400°F.
Rinse the chicken and pat dry. Rub the bird inside and out with the lemon quarters, kosher salt, and ground pepper. (Omit the salt if the chicken has been brined.) Place the lemon quarters, 2 crushed garlic cloves, and 1 teaspoon of the oregano inside the cavity.
To prepare the basting mixture, in a small saucepan, combine the olive oil, lemon juice, the remaining 1 teaspoon oregano, the minced garlic, 1 teaspoon salt and the cracked pepper. Bring to a simmer over low heat and simmer for 3 minutes, then remove from the heat.
Brush the chicken with some of the basting mixture. Place, breast-side up, on a rack in a roasting pan. Roast, basting occasionally with the olive oil mixture, until the skin is crisp and the juices run clear when the leg is pierced with a skewer, about 11/4 hours. (Some cooks recommend starting the chicken on its side, turning it after 20 minutes to the other side, and finally turning it breast-up for the last 20 minutes for more even browning.)
Remove the chicken to a carving board. Let rest for 5 to 10 minutes, then carve, drizzling the pieces with the pan juices if you like.
Suggestions for Leftovers: Add to Tortilla and Lime Soup (page 39), chicken noodle soup, Chicken and Bread Soup (page 42), risotto, or a salad. And don’t forget a chicken sandwich with good mayonnaise or Aioli (page 34), sliced tomato, and lettuce.
Variety is Not Always the Spice of Life
Years ago, people did not rely on shelves of cookbooks and food magazines for inspiration. They did not dine in diverse restaurants many nights a week. Simplicity, routine, and familiarity were the norm. There was a recipe-card file or book with clippings and maybe a dog-eared cookbook or two. Certain recipes in the family’s repertoire were prepared with great regularity: roast chicken on Sunday, fish on Friday, turkey with chestnut stuffing at Thanksgiving, and barbecued ribs on the Fourth of July. Every once in a while a new dish was attempted, critiqued, and added to the roster if everyone liked it. But most people were generally content to eat familiar foods prepared in recognized and traditional ways. At restaurants, the dishes on the menu were understood from their names. No waiter had to stand by and explain each dish.
Times have changed. We now have a diversity of cookbooks and restaurants that can make your head and tummy spin. We have become accustomed to the idea of trends and constant change and have been programmed to accept novelty as a way to keep boredom at bay. So, after we have prepared the same recipe a few times in a row, we feel that we are in a rut and not being creative. But, frankly, is familiarity so wrong? What if the only way you like sole is with lemon and almonds? Why not make it that way guilt free anytime you crave it? There is no need to invent a new dish every time you step into the kitchen, unless you are bored with what you are doing or want to test your creative powers. Constant stimulation and change can be unsettling and unnecessary. In fact, familiar recipes are a good thing when we cook at home. If we need new ideas, we can dine out, try a new dish, and if we like it, go home and replicate what we ate. We can choose to experiment from time to time. However, if we revert to our old favorites with regularity, it’s perfectly okay. That’s the essence of home cooking.
Every now and again, I break down and buy boneless chicken breasts or thighs, rather than a whole bird. This quick sauté is delicious with mashed or roasted potatoes, or resting atop soft polenta. Broccoli or green beans are also good accompaniments. You also can turn the sauté into a sauce for fusilli or rigatoni by tossing it with the cooked pasta.
I always have sliced pancetta on hand in the freezer and sun-dried tomatoes in my pantry. When sun-dried tomatoes were introduced to the American marketplace, they appeared on every restaurant menu and in every cooking publication. The overkill made me not want to eat them. To appreciate them anew, I ignored them for a few years; now I use them when I think they are essential. They make this dish delicious.
2 ounces pancetta, sliced 1/4 inch thick, then uncoiled and cut crosswise into 1/4-inch-wide strips
3 tablespoons olive oil (or part oil from the sun-dried tomatoes)
1 whole chicken breast, boned, skinned, and cut into 2-inch chunks
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup sliced red onion (1/4 inch thick)
2 tablespoons oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, cut into narrow strips
2 teaspoons finely minced garlic
1/3 cup chicken stock
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
2 tablespoons niçoise olives (optional)
In a sauté pan, render the pancetta in 1 teaspoon of the olive oil over medium heat until it is half-cooked. It will reduce in volume to about 2 tablespoons. With a slotted spoon, remove the pancetta to a plate.
Sprinkle the chicken pieces with salt and pepper. Add 2 tablespoons of the oil to the fat remaining in the pan over high heat. Add the chicken pieces and brown on both sides. Remove from the pan with a slotted spoon to a separate plate. Discard the oil from the sauté pan.
Add the remaining 2 teaspoons oil to the same pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until pale gold, about 10 minutes. Stir in the pancetta, sun dried-tomatoes, and garlic and cook for 2 minutes. Add the chicken stock, allow it to reduce a bit, and then return the chicken pieces along with half of the basil to the pan and heat through. Transfer to a warmed plate and garnish with remaining basil and the olives, if using.
Saltimbocca, veal sautéed with prosciutto and sage, is a festive and easy supper. A classic of Roman cuisine, saltimbocca means “jumps in the mouth.” Although veal scallops are traditional, the dish also can be prepared with boneless slices of turkey breast or boneless chicken breasts. Some cooks don’t like the prosciutto side to get crispy, but this doesn’t bother me. The pan may be deglazed with stock alone or in combination with wine. I like to serve saltimbocca with green beans or spinach, and mashed potatoes are nice if you want a starch accompaniment.
2 large veal scallops or uncooked boneless turkey breast slices, about 8 to 10 ounces total weight and each 1/3 inch thick, or 2 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 fresh sage leaves
2 thin slices prosciutto
11/2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup chicken stock reduced to 1/4 cup
1/4 cup dry Marsala, dry white wine, or additional stock
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
Pound the meat lightly between sheets of plastic wrap to a uniform thickness of 1/4 inch. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper and top each piece with 2 sage leaves. Cover the sage with the prosciutto slices and skewer in place with toothpicks.
In a sauté pan, heat the oil over medium-high heat. Add the meat, prosciutto-and-sage-side down, and sauté until golden on the first side, about 3 minutes. Turn and cook the other side until golden, about 3 minutes longer. Remove to a warmed plate and keep warm.
Pour in the stock and the wine and deglaze the pan over high heat, scraping up any brown bits stuck to the bottom. Boil until the pan juices reduce and are thickened. Remove the pan from the heat and swirl in the butter. Spoon over the saltimbocca and eat at once.
I know it’s not the most practical dinner for one, but I occasionally get a craving for roast duck. Why? Nostalgia. When I was a little girl, my father would drive us out to a remote (or at least it seemed that way to me) part of Long Island to a lakeside restaurant called Villa Victor, which specialized in roast duckling. The trip was an adventure to the “countryside,” away from the concrete of our Brooklyn streets. My craving, however, creates the dilemma of what to do with the leftover half duck. I know it will not be quite as crisp and crackling as the first time, but it can be reheated easily. Simply refrigerate it, then bring it back to room temperature the next day. Arrange the pieces, skin-side down, in a cast-iron or other heavy skillet. Place in a very hot oven, 450 to 500° F, until sizzling and crispy, 7 to 10 minutes. Or use the cooked duck meat in a salad (page 65). Serve the roast duck with sautéed pear or apple slices.
1 Pekin or Long Island duck, about 5 pounds
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon minced garlic
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
2 teaspoons chopped fresh rosemary
1/2 cup dry white wine
Rinse the duck and pat dry. Cut off the wing tips, the neck, and feet. Trim any excess fat from inside the cavity. In a small bowl, stir together the kosher salt, pepper, nutmeg, garlic, lemon zest, and rosemary and rub the mixture all over the bird, inside and out. Cover and refrigerate overnight if you have the time.
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Prick the duck skin with the tines of a fork in the fattiest areas (the thighs and breast), to allow some fat to drain away while roasting. Place the duck, breast-side up, on a rack in a roasting pan and roast until the skin is golden and crisp, about 1 hour. The meat will be moist and juicy, and the juices will run clear when the thigh joint is pierced.
Remove the duck from the oven, transfer to a cutting board, and let rest for 5 to 10 minutes. Meanwhile, spoon off the fat from pan and place the pan on the stove top over medium-high heat. Add the wine and deglaze the pan, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom. Carve the duck into quarters. Pour the pan juices over the half duck that you are eating now. Set aside half of the duck for another meal (see recipe introduction).
Note: If you are roasting the duck at 450°F, plan for about 12 minutes per pound. For more meltingly tender meat, preheat the oven to 350°F and roast for about 20 minutes per pound. The skin will be not quite as crisp, but the meat will be much softer.
Personal Celebrations
Foods that I cook for personal celebrations, are, in essence, simple dishes, but require some finesse and skill if they are to attain the level of perfection that they inherently promise. They may remind me of a happy time or place. They may promote comfort that comes from familiarity, or the excitement of eating something only rarely enjoyed at home alone. So it might be a lobster, roast duck, or two dozen oysters and a Caesar salad. I realize that some dishes I’ve selected for my private parties at home might be considered very rich, not exactly health food; but they do fall into the old traditional Mediterranean pattern of fasting and feasting. I eat these to feast. And while I don’t fast very much, I am a relatively sensible eater most of the time—a grown-up at last.
Kabobs are an easy and satisfying dinner for one. The meat can be cubed ahead of time, even the day before, and marinated at room temperature for 1 hour or longer in the refrigerator. The kabobs can instead be served with a fruit-based salsa or Sun Gold Tomato Chutney (page 30). This recipe can be doubled easily, and it works for firm white fish fillets as well.
MARINADE
1 plump clove garlic, chopped
1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and sliced
1 tablespoon minced green onion, including tender green tops
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest or 1 tablespoon minced lemongrass
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon bourbon, white wine, or sherry
1 teaspoon Asian sesame oil
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
2 or 3 boneless, skinless chicken thighs; 1 beef fillet, about 8 to 10 ounces; 8 to 10 ounces pork tenderloin; or 1 lamb steak, about 8 to 10 ounces and 1 inch thick, boned
Olive or peanut oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/3 cup Peanut Sauce (page 27)
To make the marinade: Combine the garlic, ginger, green onion, and lemon zest in the container of a mini-processor or blender. Pulse to purée. Add the soy, bourbon, sesame oil, and pepper and blend briefly. You can make this marinade the day before you use it.
Cut the poultry into 1-inch cubes and place in a shallow nonreactive dish. Pour the marinade on top and toss to coat evenly. Cover and marinate for 1 hour at room temperature or 2 to 4 hours in the refrigerator, turning the meat occasionally.
Preheat the broiler or prepare a fire in the charcoal grill.
Thread the poultry cubes onto a bamboo skewer that has been soaked in water for 15 minutes or onto a metal skewer. Brush with oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Slip under the broiler or place on the grill and cook, turning once, for 3 minutes on each side for chicken, lamb, or beef and 4 to 5 minutes on each side for pork. The kabob should be nicely browned but still juicy. Serve with the Peanut Sauce.
A sautéed duck breast may not be quite as festive as roast duck cooked on the bone, but it makes a great solo supper—as good and as simple to prepare as a steak. Sear it to brown crispiness, then finish in the oven or in the pan over low heat. Make a plain pan sauce or use one of the pantry sauces you have on hand. Stores like Trader Joe’s have Muscovy duck breasts in the freezer case, and good butcher and poultry shops carry them, too.
Boneless Muscovy duck breast half, about 12 ounces
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of ground cinnamon, allspice, or five-spice powder (optional)
1/2 cup chicken stock or dry red wine
About 3 tablespoons Peppery Prune Sauce (page 24), or Pomegranate Marinade and Basting Sauce (page 26) (optional)
Preheat the oven to 450°F. Rinse the duck breast and pat dry. Using a sharp knife, score the skin in a crosshatch pattern, but do not cut down into the meat. Rub the duck with salt and pepper and with a bit of cinnamon, if using.
Heat a large, ovenproof sauté pan over medium heat. Place the duck breast, skin-side down, in the hot pan. Cook until the breast renders its fat, about 8 minutes. Drain off the fat from the pan and slip it into the oven for about 8 minutes for medium-rare. (You may also finish the breast on top of the stove, turning it once and sautéing for 5 to 8 minutes.) Transfer the duck breast to a cutting board and keep warm.
Return the pan to medium-high heat, add the stock and deglaze the pan, scraping up the browned bits on the pan bottom. Reduce a bit, then, if desired, spoon in one of the sauces, mix well, and heat through.
Slice the duck breast on the diagonal and arrange on a warmed plate. Spoon the pan juices over the top.
Note: A Muscovy duck breast half is filling and you may not be able to eat all of it. You can slice the leftovers and serve them in a salad. Because it is rich, it pairs well with bitter greens such as arugula, Belgian endive, and radicchio. Add some pear slices, orange segments, and thin fennel slices and toss with a vinaigrette made with orange or lemon juice, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar. See Main Dish Salads for other recipe suggestions.
Although I have been a California girl for a long time, exposed to hippie culture, brown rice, and tofu, you can’t take the carnivorous New Yorker out of me. Some of my most beloved childhood food memories revolve around eating steak at New York’s famous steakhouse, Peter Luger. And because I lived in Italy during my formative culinary years, it’s not surprising that some of my steak recipes have an Italian accent. Steak, along with a glass of good red wine, is a sybaritic supper that gives me great energy and ever greater joy. It’s hard to find a sirloin or New York cut that has great beef flavor, so I cook a rib eye with ample marbling or a hanger steak. “Pan broiling” a steak on a ridged, stove-top cast-iron griddle or searing it in a cast-iron skillet takes just minutes, almost the same time it takes to wilt some spinach in a sauté pan and open a bottle of wine. If I need a more substantial supper, I might fry or bake a potato. But if it’s summer, it’s more than likely that I’ll have sliced tomatoes in honor of Peter Luger.
1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
1 teaspoon finely minced garlic
1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper
About 1 tablespoon olive oil
1 aged rib-eye steak with ample marbling, 8 to 10 ounces
Kosher salt
Lemon wedge
In a small bowl, combine the rosemary, garlic, and pepper with enough olive oil to make a thick paste. Rub this paste onto the meat, cover, and let marinate for at least 1 hour at room temperature or for up to 8 hours in the refrigerator. Bring the meat to room temperature for cooking.
Just before cooking, sprinkle the meat with kosher salt. Heat a ridged, stove-top griddle or a cast-iron skillet over high heat. Pan broil or pan sear the steak over high heat, turning once, to desired doneness. For me, that means rare and takes about 3 minutes per side. Accompany with a lemon wedge as they do in Florence.
Skirt steak is an underappreciated cut. It is full of beef flavor and is sufficiently tender when sliced with the grain. (Flank steak is another worthy cut for this recipe, but I find that skirt steak has better flavor and more marbling.) It usually is sold all rolled up and often weighs a pound or more. Part of it is thick, part thin. The leftovers, however, are good served at room temperature, alone, or as part of a salad (page 66). If you can find a hanger steak at your butcher, it also will work well for this recipe. Pair the steak with mashed potatoes.
1 skirt steak, about 1 pound, preferably 1/2 inch thick
About 31/2 tablespoons olive oil
About 11/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 large red onion, cut in 1/4-inch-thick slices
1 red bell pepper (optional)
Kosher salt
Place the steak in a heavy-duty zippered plastic bag or shallow glass baking dish. Add 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, 1 tablespoon of the balsamic vinegar, and 1/2 teaspoon of the black pepper and turn as needed to coat evenly. Seal closed and let stand for about 2 hours at room temperature.
In a sauté pan, heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil over medium-high heat. Add the onion and sauté until it caramelizes. This may take 15 to 20 minutes. Set aside.
Preheat the broiler or prepare a fire in the charcoal grill.
If you like roasted peppers, hold the bell pepper over the flame on a gas stove, slip it under the broiler, or place it on the grill and roast, turning as needed until the skin is well charred on all sides. Place the pepper in a plastic bag or covered container and allow it to rest for about 15 minutes. Peel off the skin and remove the stem and seeds. Cut lengthwise into strips 1/2 inch wide. Add the bell pepper strips to the caramelized onion.
Sprinkle the steak with kosher salt. Broil or grill, turning once, for about 3 minutes on each side for rare or to desired doneness. Remove the steak to a cutting board, let rest for a few minutes, then slice across the grain as much of it as you plan to eat. Cover and refrigerate the remainder to use for a salad.
Warm the onion and bell pepper in the sauté pan with a bit more olive oil, add 1 or 2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar, the remaining 1/4 teaspoon pepper, and salt to taste. Arrange the sliced steak on a warmed plate and spoon the onion-bell pepper mixture over the top.
Note: You can also cook the steak on the stove top. Heat a cast-iron skillet or ridged, stove-top griddle pan over high heat, then cook the steak, turning once, to the desired degree of doneness. If you have used a skillet, you can deglaze the pan with a little of balsamic vinegar and then add the onion-bell pepper mixture.
I am not an aficionado of fast-food hamburgers, but this Russian-inspired recipe makes me want to eat a burger because it becomes dinner. There’s no roll, no ketchup—just rich sour cream-smothered mushrooms and maybe some rice or kasha on the side.
6 to 8 ounces ground beef, not too lean
2 to 3 tablespoons grated yellow onion
1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more to taste
4 tablespoons (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
1 red onion, sliced
1 teaspoon paprika
8 ounces fresh mushrooms, wiped clean and sliced
1/4 cup beef stock
1/4 cup sour cream at room temperature
In a bowl, combine the ground beef, yellow onion, dill, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper and mix together with your hands. Shape into a patty about 3/4 inch thick. Do not compact the meat.
In a sauté pan, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter over medium heat. Add the red onion and saute until soft and translucent, about 8 minutes. Add the paprika and cook for about 3 minutes longer. Remove to a plate.
In the same sauté pan, melt the remaining 2 tablespoons butter over high heat. Add the mushrooms and cook, stirring occasionally, until they give off some liquid and shrink down, about 5 minutes. Add the sautéed red onion and the beef stock and bring to a simmer over medium heat. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Keep warm.
Heat a heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Add the beef patty and cook, turning once, for 3 to 4 minutes on each side for medium-rare or until done as desired.
When the burger is ready, stir the sour cream into the mushrooms over low heat and simmer for 1 minute. Transfer the burger to a warmed plate and spoon the mushrooms over the meat.
Pork tenderloin is the ideal cut for a solo diner. You can get one sizable supper out of it and enough to serve alongside a rice salad, some cooked asparagus with ginger vinaigrette, or a potato or lentil salad. The meat is moist and cooks quickly, whether grilled, broiled, or roasted. Marinate it for an hour or two at room temperature or overnight in the refrigerator.
Asian-inspired marinades work well because they contrast with the natural sweetness of the pork and form a caramelized crust on the outside. This first marinade is a longtime favorite. The recipe was given to me by someone I met at a dinner party in Chicago more than forty years ago, so you know it’s great if I am still using it. Of course, it has undergone subtle modifications and variations over the years. The second one includes the Middle Eastern accent of pomegranate molasses.
Partner the tenderloin with rice or wild rice and sugar snap peas, snow peas, spinach, green beans, or asparagus. If you like, accompany the pork with Mango Chutney (page 28) or Russian Hot-and-Sweet Mustard (page 29).
1 pork tenderloin, 14 to 16 ounces
GINGER and SOY MARINADE
1 or 2 plump cloves garlic, minced (about 1 teaspoon)
3-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and grated (about 3 tablespoons)
3 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon tomato paste or 2 tablespoons ketchup
1 tablespoon mild vinegar
3 tablespoons brown sugar
1/2 cup chicken or meat stock
CITRUS and POMEGRANATE MARINADE
1 teaspoon finely minced garlic
1 tablespoon Russian Hot-and-Sweet Mustard or your favorite store-bought brand
2 teaspoons peeled and grated fresh ginger
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon pomegranate molasses, preferably Cortas brand
1 teaspoon grated orange zest
1/2 cup fresh orange juice
Place the pork in a small roasting pan or baking dish. Select a marinade and whisk together all of the ingredients in a small bowl. Pour the marinade over the tenderloin and roll the meat around in the marinade to coat it well. Cover and let stand at room temperature for 1 to 2 hours or for up to overnight in the refrigerator.
Preheat the broiler or prepare a fire in a charcoal grill and broil or grill, turning once, until the meat tests done, about 8 minutes on each side. Alternatively, preheat the oven to 425°F. Roast the pork until an instant-read thermometer inserted into the thickest part registers 140°F, about 25 minutes.
Transfer the pork to a cutting board and let rest for 5 minutes, then slice across the grain.
The Greeks have a natural affinity for lamb and a huge repertoire of wonderful recipes using it. I love the way cinnamon, oregano, tomato, and wine come together here, reminiscent of moussaka, but without all the work. Accompany with roasted potatoes and sautéed zucchini or, of course, eggplant.
1 lamb steak, about 8 ounces and 3/4 inch thick, or 3 loin chops, about 12 ounces total
2 teaspoons olive oil
Pinch of ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
Freshly ground black pepper
TOMATO SAUCE
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 yellow onion, chopped, or 3 or 4 green onions, including tender green tops, chopped
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2/3 cup tomato sauce
1/4 cup meat stock or dry red or white wine
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Honey or sugar, if needed
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese
1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
Rub the lamb with the olive oil, cinnamon, oregano, and a little pepper. Cover and marinate for 1 or 2 hours at room temperature or overnight in the refrigerator. Bring to room temperature before cooking.
To make the sauce: In a sauté pan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté until soft and translucent, about 8 minutes. Add the garlic, cinnamon, and oregano and cook, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 5 minutes. Add the tomato sauce and stock, bring the mixture to a boil, and then quickly reduce the heat to low. Simmer for 8 minutes to blend the flavors. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Be careful not to oversalt, as the feta cheese will add some saltiness upon final assembly of the dish. Add honey if the tomato sauce tastes acidic.
Preheat the broiler. Broil the lamb steak, turning once, about 4 minutes on each side for medium-rare or until done as desired. Transfer to a warmed dinner plate and spoon the sauce over the top. Garnish with the feta and parsley.
Variation: Instead of broiling the lamb, cook it in 1 tablespoon oil in a heavy skillet over medium heat. Plan on 4 or 5 minutes on each side for medium-rare (depending on thickness) or until done as desired. Remove to a warmed dinner plate, deglaze the pan with 1/4 cup meat stock or dry red or white wine, and add the hot tomato sauce. Return the steak to the pan to coat with the sauce, then return to the plate. Top with the feta and parsley.
Easy Lamb Chops
As I have already said, I do not roast a leg of lamb for a solo supper, but I do buy lamb steaks, cross sections cut through the leg, which can be quickly cooked in a skillet and devoured in one sitting. They take to a pan sauce well, too, or are delicious served with Sun Gold Tomato Chutney (page 30).
I also love small lamb rib chops, but they are costly and one or two have so little meat on the bone that I am never satisfied with the portion. In fact, they are so precious, that all I want to do is cook them perfectly and eat them with my fingers. They can be marinated briefly and require no sauce.
Here are four tasty marinades for lamb chops:
Brush the chops with Pomegranate Marinade and Basting Sauce (page 26). Marinate for 1 to 3 hours.
Rub the chops with a mixture of pimentón de la Vera (see page 22), ground cumin, and a bit of dried oregano. Marinate for at least 3 hours or for up to overnight.
Rub the chops with a paste of chopped fresh rosemary, minced garlic, red pepper flakes, olive oil, and white wine or fresh lemon juice. Marinate for 1 to 3 hours.
Rub the chops with a Moroccan-inspired paste of ground cumin, paprika, cayenne pepper, minced garlic, and fresh lemon juice, or with Moroccan Charmoula Marinade (page 111). Marinate for at least 2 hours or for up to 1 day.
I have a weakness for calves’ liver. I like it seared very quickly over high heat, crusty and brown on the outside and rather rare in the center. Shades of Rosemary’s Baby, I know. But I cannot eat it if it is cooked through. My favorite calves’ liver recipe is fegato alla veneziana, prepared as they do it in Venice, with caramelized onions, sage, and a bit of lemon to lighten the dish. The liver is cut into tiny strips in the Venetian style, but large slices are easier to turn. You have to think ahead if you want it with creamy polenta. The polenta may take twenty minutes, but the liver cooks in just five minutes. If you don’t have the patience to stir polenta, you could use instant (I am not crazy about its texture) or accompany the liver with mashed potatoes.
4 tablespoons olive oil
1 red onion, halved and sliced 1/4 inch thick
About 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 to 8 ounces calves’ liver, well trimmed and sliced about 1/3 inch thick
1/2 cup chicken stock
2 fresh sage leaves
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice, or to taste
In a large sauté pan, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté until golden, about 15 minutes. Remove the onion to a plate and set aside.
On a flat plate, stir together the flour with a little salt and pepper. If desired, cut the liver slices into strips 1/4 inch wide and 2 inches long. Dredge the liver in the seasoned flour and shake off the excess.
In the same sauté pan, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons oil over high heat. Add the liver and sear, turning once, for 2 to 3 minutes on each side for medium-rare. Remove the liver to a warmed dinner plate and keep warm.
Pour off any excess oil from the pan and return the pan to high heat. Pour in the stock and deglaze the pan, scraping up any browned bits from the pan bottom. Reduce the sauce until slightly thickened. Return the onion to the pan, add the sage leaves and lemon juice, and cook for 2 to 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Spoon the onion over the liver and eat at once.
