A head of radicchio Tardivo.
A head of radicchio Tardivo.
When I say “market cooking,” I’m referring to a common French term. If a French chef (or an acclaimed home cook) is asked which cuisine is his or her specialty, the response may well be “la cuisine du marché.” It would be my response too. It implies a philosophy as much as a style of cooking. Loosely translated, it means: I go to the market, see what looks best, and then decide what will go on the menu.
The fresh ingredients provide inspiration for the meal. I don’t go with a fixed idea of what I want; I look for the most sparkly fish, the most tantalizing vegetables. I want them to be fresh, local, and seasonal—hardly a new concept, but a most admirable one. The best cooking I know depends upon it. It’s the age-old, traditional, normal way, even if today’s chefs and foodies lay claim to the farm-to-table moniker. A new generation is discovering the value of foraging, seeking out organic produce, and cooking over live fire. These are ancient practices. And for much of human history, sourcing local and seasonal produce was not a lifestyle choice—it was the only way to cook.
A key aspect of market cooking is simplicity—letting the natural flavors of the ingredients shine. Delicious food doesn’t have to be complicated. When tomatoes are truly vine-ripened, a little salt and olive oil are all you need. A roasted head of garlic gives immediate satisfaction; freshly picked asparagus needs just a few minutes of steaming and a good vinaigrette.
How did we stray so far from this place-based, seasonal approach? One-stop shopping at big-box stores may be convenient, but several stops at a couple of smaller shops may make a great difference. It means not settling for generic industrial eggs when a side trip from life’s busy thoroughfare will give you a better egg and a better meal. And perhaps a small adventure to boot. There really can be joy in marketing.
What follows is a collection of recipes for some of the dishes and ingredients I like best—my own, admittedly sometimes quirky, favorite foods. Hence garlic, onions, and potatoes are given pride of place, and I wholeheartedly celebrate hot chiles and the power of picante. What’s more, the majority of the recipes are vegetable-based. Vegetables are central to a meal. I try to make them the focus, even if meat or fish is on the menu.
Some of the recipes here are quite precise, others are presented in a more suggestive fashion. But a recipe can only go so far. More important is understanding the process, the how and why, the technique, the feel; ultimately, recipes offer guidelines and quantities, but only experience can make you a better cook. Mastering kitchen fundamentals will increase your comfort and your enjoyment in the kitchen.
Cooking can be both a personal expression and a cultural one, connecting us to past, present, and future. It is at once creative and introspective. I also cook because I really want a good meal, and often the most satisfying way to get it is to make it myself—at home. Cooking (and, it follows, dining) is what makes a house a home, whether alone or with a companion, a few friends, or a large group.
There are a thousand good reasons to stay home and cook. When you get in the habit of cooking, it’s easy to weave it into your daily routine. If you cook once in a blue moon, there’s no continuity; you may feel rusty or reticent or less than rhythmic.
But a trip to the market will help get you in the mood. In every season, there are colorful fruits and vegetables to seduce you. Your “market” may be a supermarket or a farm stand or a corner store that has fresh figs from the owner’s tree. If you’re lucky, there’s a regular farmers’ market in the vicinity. In any case, your goal is to procure the freshest ingredients and to cook them simply.
Daikon radish.