Shallot

Eaten raw, beets are delicious; even many self-proclaimed beet haters will like them in this salad. To eat a beet raw, you have to peel it and shred it. The first step is easiest with a regular vegetable peeler. I do the second with the metal blade of a food processor, pulsing the machine on and off until the beets are finely cut. You could use the shredding blade, but it isn’t any easier or better. Or you could use a manual grater, but only if you’re looking for an upper-body workout.

A French peasant classic, popularized internationally by the great Paul Bocuse. My version is leaner; for something approaching the glorious original, see the variation. Bread is a must, with salad to follow.

This recipe doesn’t demand anything particularly exotic to produce an authentically Malaysian flavor. But instead of relying on canned curry paste as so many similar dishes do, this one offers a good deal more fragrance and sweetness by starting with fresh spices. If you’ve got access to a good market and would like to try a more unusual chicken curry from Southeast Asia, try the Red-Cooked Chicken (preceding recipe) or the Braised Duck or Chicken with Fresh Curry Paste on page 328, which incorporates Thai ingredients like dried shrimp or fish sauce. This curry is great with white rice but even better with the Malaysian coconut rice, Nasi Lemak, on page 515. You can make this curry a day in advance—keep it covered in the refrigerator overnight and warm it gently over low heat before serving.

I like this best with shallots, which are prettier and tastier than boiling onions. Some people add raisins (about 1/4 cup, from the beginning), which does not turn me on. Others garnish with toasted pine nuts, a nice but unnecessary touch. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: almost any member of the onion family, including leeks, scallions, and any kind of onion—if the onions are large, peel and quarter them, then insert a toothpick into each quarter to hold it together during the cooking.

A simple and delicious way to use onions as a vegetable, one that long ago became part of the Middle American repertoire but has sadly dropped out. Time for a revival? This dish is unquestionably best with small onions—pearl onions—or with cipollini, the squat Italian variety, or the very fresh spring onions, usually sold only at that time of year and looking like scallions on steroids. It will work almost as well with leeks, which should be trimmed first, then parboiled for 2 or 3 minutes. If you must use larger onions, parboil for a good 10 minutes before peeling and baking. Convert this to a gorgeous spring gratin by adding a handful each of fresh wild mushrooms, like morels, and fresh peas to the mix. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: shallots, treated exactly as you would pearl onions.

Stir-fried vegetables are almost as common in Southeast Asia as they are in China, and even the spices are similar. But the addition of dried shrimp and the use of nam pla are dead giveaways that this dish is from Indochina. It’s usually made on the fiery side, so feel free to increase the chiles if you like. Information on fish sauces like nam pla is on page 500. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Green beans, parboiled broccoli or cauliflower, or a mixture of onions and peppers. All will take a little longer than fast-cooking watercress.

This vegetable stock is not unlike Jus Rôti (page 163) but without the meat—the roasting step adds a layer of flavor that is a welcome addition to otherwise one-dimensional vegetable stocks. Although this is hardly a bare-bones stock, the addition of mushrooms or more root vegetables (especially parsnips) will give it even more oomph.

In Western cooking, vinaigrette is the closest thing to an all-purpose sauce. I recommend making vinaigrette in a blender, where it becomes so stable that it can be prepared hours before it is needed. Once made, it can be used on everything from green salad to cold meat, vegetables, or fish dishes to anything that has been broiled or grilled, whether served hot or at room temperature. I well remember the first time I had good vinaigrette, and it was in France. It was so far and away the best salad dressing I’d ever tasted (and at this point I was twenty-six years old, so I’d tasted at least a few, though the vast majority had come out of bottles) that I had to ask the secret. The answer—now so obvious, then a revelation—was shallots. But you can use such a wide variety of flavors in vinaigrette (see the variations) that these days the standard French variety seems almost clichéd.

Quite similar to the beef soup recipe on page 145, except at the outset, when shallots are browned to give the soup a little extra color and complexity.

This is the quintessential Italian American dish: from the 1950s through the 1980s, every Italian restaurant had it on the menu. It is still one of America’s favorite dishes and is easy to make. The important part of the recipe is to begin cooking the meat and mushrooms separately, then combine them at the end so the flavors blend. Marsala is the special ingredient in this dish. Around the city of Marsala, Malvasia, a varietal of a very aromatic grape, grew in abundance. Wine has been made from this varietal for centuries, and the English took note of it and began importing it. The history of England and the New World needs no retelling, and this is most likely how Marsala made it across the pond. When the Sicilian immigrants settled in America, and rediscovered it, it was a natural reunion.

Please try this recipe. Nothing would make me happier than to see more dedicated home cooks in this country cooking rabbit. And for those of you just starting to cook, you really should make use of this delicious and healthful meat. It’s always been an important food on our family table. When I was a child, in our town of Busoler, every family had a pen of rabbits—including my namesake Aunt Lidia, my mother’s sister—and even as I gathered grass to feed them and played with them, I understood how important it was to nourish them, so they would nourish us. Today, though, while rabbit dishes are popular in my restaurants, especially as a pasta condiment, I notice that customers still regard rabbit as a fancy and different food, especially the saddle (the loin section) of rabbit. The truth is, rabbit is easy to cook and is as versatile and tasty as chicken. Here, then, is a typical rabbit dish from my kitchen, which I still prepare often for family dinners. I always buy whole rabbits and cut them up myself, as I demonstrate in the photos alongside. Like poultry, rabbit is easy to divide. Let the joints show you where to cut off the meaty leg pieces. The back pieces are easy to chop with a sturdy chef’s knife or a small cleaver. If you prefer, though, ask your butcher to cut up the rabbit into eight or ten pieces for you. I am sure you’ll love this cacciatore (hunter’s-style) rabbit. During the first 40 minutes, the cooking is purposely slow and relaxed, as the meat gradually caramelizes with herbs, fresh peppers, and other vegetables and seasonings. Add these as you prepare them—you don’t need to rush. Once you’ve developed many layers of flavor, you pour in some broth, cover the pan, and let the rabbit braise for another 20 minutes.

GINA Roasting the shallot gives it a deep, sweet flavor, and the lemon zest lightens the whole thing up. This butter would also be an excellent topping for fish or chicken.

There is nothing like a rib eye: it is the most flavorful steak you can buy. The thin streams of fat running through this cut of steak create outstanding flavor. You’ll only need to season this with salt and pepper, because we’re going to make a shallot-and-herb butter to slap on top of this baby once it’s off the grill. As with any good steak, let this one rest for a few minutes before digging in. It will be moist and tender.

This salad is a stellar addition to a midwinter antipasto plate, full of bright flavors that seem to hint at warmer days ahead. In the short, dark days of a Seattle January, that’s especially welcome. Because of the salad’s simplicity, it’s important to use the heaviest, sweetest oranges you can find and use a firm, briny olive. Arbequinas or Gaetas are fine substitutes for the Taggiascas; mushy supermarket Kalamatas are not. Serve the salad shortly after you prepare it. As it sits, the flavor of the shallot continues to develop and the lovely balance of the salad is lost.

Carolina Gold rice, a fat, golden-hued, long-grained variety native to South Carolina, is so flavorful that only simple preparations are required. It is excellent in its most basic form, cooked in water with just a little salt and pepper, but for special occasions I opt for this gently embellished preparation.

Roasted fillet of beef was a standard at my mom’s house during the holidays, and I always crave it when the weather turns crisp. When I make it, I start the meat on the grill for extra flavor and finish it in the oven, where it cooks more evenly and comes out juicy and tender. It’s a no-fail method that ensures a perfectly cooked fillet every time.

If you prefer, you can replace the white wine with an equal amount of apple cider. To prevent peeled apples from turning brown, place them in a bowl of cold water mixed with the juice of one lemon.

For a break from roast chicken, try these smaller hens, which cook in about half the time it takes for a chicken. If you like, substitute four bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts (10 to 12 ounces each) for the Cornish hens.

Add a slice of toast topped with melted cheese, and you have a light dinner or lunch. This recipe makes enough soup for eight people, but you can easily freeze the leftovers if serving fewer (directions for freezing are below).

Shrimp can be paired with strong flavors—in this case, a tangy and sweet tamarind sauce with a touch of heat—and still retain their briny character. The tartness of the tropical pod comes through in the sauce, but it is balanced by the other seasonings, just as it is in a well-prepared Indian tamarind chutney. These shrimp are at home with a bowl of rice for soaking up the sauce, but they also make an interesting cross-cultural hand roll tucked into a warm corn tortilla and eaten like a taco. As long as you have frozen cubes of tamarind liquid on hand, this recipe is quick to prepare.

These terrific shallot slices are like bacon bits—a garnish for when you want to add final rich notes. For them to turn out well, you must first remove all the excess moisture from the fresh shallots. Many Viet cooks skip that step and fry up presliced dehydrated shallot. Sold at Chinese and Vietnamese markets, the time-saving alternative sadly lacks flavor and depth, much like the difference between onion soup made from scratch and a packaged mix. However, they are convenient and inexpensive, which perhaps explains why hành phi are sometimes overused to embellish food. I am a traditionalist when it comes to this garnish. I prepare it the day I need it so that it stays crisp, and I always start with fresh shallots to capture their subtle sweetness. I especially like them sprinkled on bánh cuon (steamed rice crepe rolls, page 270) and xôi bap (sticky rice with hominy, page 247).

Imagine my mom’s delight when she first spotted canned hominy at American markets (and later, hulled mung beans). Gone were the days when she had to soak and treat dried corn kernels with slaked lime before cooking them to prepare this treat. She also had to soak and skin unhulled mung beans before she could steam and grind them. By the time this dish appeared at the table, nearly two days had passed. But it was all worth it: the rice and hominy formed a chewy, soft base for the buttery yellow mung beans, toasted sesame seeds, and fried shallots. Serve this sticky rice dish alone or with slices of Viet sausages or roasted chicken, duck, or pork.

Lovely to look at, these rosy shallots are also wonderful to eat. Their delightful tanginess and mild bite cut the richness of foods like beef or pork kho and Viet sausages, headcheese, or pâté. They are also good in a Western salad or sandwich. Tipplers might even try a few in a gin on the rocks. These shallots are a must for Tet celebrations. In fact, there is a traditional Tet couplet that includes dua hânh as one of the required foods for the holiday. My family doesn’t wait for the Lunar New Year to eat them, however. My mom and I make them year-round, using this recipe from my late aunt, Bac Dao. A widow most of her life, she often prepared large batches of various foods and divided them up among her family and friends. These shallots were usually among her gifts. Use small shallots (sold at Asian markets in red plastic net bags, each weighing about a pound) that are firm and without sprouts or mold. If shallots aren’t available, substitute red pearl onions (sold at most supermarkets).