The Only Chocolate Cake

Adapted from Via Carota: A Celebration of Seasonal Cooking from the Beloved Greenwich Village Restaurant by Jody Williams and Rita Sodi with Anna Kovel (Knopf, 2022)

This won’t be the most beautiful chocolate cake you’ve ever made—but it will be the best. In fact, it’s The Only Chocolate Cake you’ll ever need, and that’s what I call it.

Please read the notes at the end at least the first time you make this!

Makes one 9-inch cake in a springform pan.

170g unsalted butter (plus a little more for the pan)
Cocoa powder to dust the cake pan
200g bittersweet chocolate, broken into smallish pieces (see note)
6 large eggs, separated (see notes)
200g sugar (I like to use golden caster sugar if I have it—ordered from Kalustyan’s)
¼ teaspoon fine salt

Preheat a regular oven (not convection) to 350°F.

Butter a 9-inch springform pan and dust it with cocoa powder the same way you would normally flour a cake pan. Tap out the excess.

Melt the butter and chocolate together. I use the Alice Medrich Water Bath Method from The Kitchn (see below).

In a clean, dry bowl, whisk the egg whites until foamy, then gradually add 100g of the sugar. Beat until the whites form stiff, glossy peaks—silky but not dry. I use a copper bowl and electric hand mixer for this step.

In another bowl (large enough to hold everything later), whisk the egg yolks with the remaining 100g of sugar until they are thick and light. I use an electric hand mixer. Even if your yolks start out very golden, they will lighten.

Slowly stir the cooled but still liquid chocolate/butter mixture into the yolks. It must be cool enough and stirred constantly so you don’t "cook" the yolks.

Gently fold the beaten egg whites into the chocolate–egg yolk mixture. Leave some white streaks—this won’t feel natural, but it’s important for texture.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Bake for 40 to 45 minutes. In my oven, 40 is enough. The cake will puff up dramatically, then sink as it cools. It may even resemble the Sorting Hat from Harry Potter. That’s fine.

Cool completely before removing the sides of the pan.

Serve plain or with thick whipped cream.

NOTES

– It’s easiest to separate eggs when they’re cold, so I often do that straight from the fridge. Then let them come to room temperature before you begin making the cake.

– When separating and beating eggs: a tiny bit of white in your yolks is fine. But even a speck of yolk will prevent the whites from whipping properly. So it’s best to beat your egg whites first while your tools are clean and dry, then move on to the yolks.

– You’ll be folding the whites into the yolks, so beat your yolks in a bowl big enough to eventually hold everything.

Alice Medrich Water Bath Method for Melting Chocolate
Adapted from Alice Medrich via The Kitchn

Put about an inch of water in a wide skillet (I use a 10-inch All-Clad). Place a heatproof bowl—stainless steel works well—with the chopped chocolate and butter into the skillet. Bring the water to a simmer, then turn off the heat. Let the chocolate and butter melt undisturbed. When it’s mostly melted, stir gently until smooth.

Medrich writes:

With this method you can see everything—you can see when the water is starting to simmer (it will rattle the bowl, too!) and you can turn off the flame. You can’t see what’s happening inside a double boiler. Of course, you always have to be careful, no matter what your method, but this is the easiest way I know how to keep track of everything.

Cocktail - The Classic Martini (Vic's Way)

Plymouth gin, ice-cold, served straight up with three olives—and just a nod to France

Finalized after a spirited back-and-forth with ChatGPT.

2½ oz Plymouth Gin
A whisper of Noilly Prat dry vermouth (rinse the glass, or wave the bottle in the direction of the shaker)
Ice
3 green olives (Castelvetrano or classic pimento-stuffed)

Fill a cocktail shaker with ice. Add the Plymouth gin. Rinse a chilled martini glass with Noilly Prat, then discard the excess (or, if you’re Churchill, merely glance toward France).

Shake the gin vigorously until the shaker is so cold it stings your fingers.

Strain into the prepared glass. Garnish with three olives.

Raspberry Sauce and Raspberry Coulis

When I make my Chocolate Torte and am pulling out all the stops, I serve it with both Crème Anglaise and a raspberry sauce. Either of the following raspberry sauces works beautifully an both are excellent with ice cream.

Raspberry Coulis

Adapted from Above and Beyond Parsley: Food for the Senses by The Junior League of Kansas City, Missouri (Junior League of Kansas City, Missouri, 1992)

1½ cups fresh or frozen unsweetened raspberries
¼ cup powdered sugar
¼ cup Chambord

Puree all ingredients in a blender or food processor. Strain to remove the seeds. Chill before serving.

Raspberry Sauce
Adapted from Chocolate (Williams-Sonoma Kitchen Library) by Lora Brody (Time-Life Books, 1993)

315g (2½ cups) fresh or thawed frozen unsweetened raspberries
125g (½ cup) castor (superfine) sugar
¼ cup Chambord

Puree all ingredients in a blender or food processor. Strain to remove the seeds. Chill before serving.

Flourless Almond Cake

Adapted from From Baklava to Tarte Tatin by Bernard Laurance (Rizzoli, 2016)

Note: This will be a thin disc of a cake to be served with whipped cream. I usually add a little Amaretto liqueur (Luxardo is the brand I like) to the cream before I whip it. It’s also good with ice cream—sweet cream or vanilla.

Note: This is best made the day before you plan to serve it—but if you’re baking it the same day, just make it early.

Note: Don’t use almond flour for this recipe. I blitz my own unblanched almonds (almonds with their skins on), not quite as fine as commercial almond flour.

Note: I can’t quite decide if I notice the difference between toasting the almonds and not toasting them—which essentially means it’s not necessary—but you might want to see what you think. If you decide to toast them, you need to do it in advance as (1) you want them to cool, and (2) they toast for 10 minutes, turning once at the 5-minute mark, in a 350°F oven, and the cake cooks in a 325°F oven.

Flourless Almond Cake
Serves 6 to 8

120 grams unsalted butter, melted and cooled but still liquid
A little softened butter for coating the pan
200 grams unblanched whole almonds, raw or roasted but definitely unsalted (see Note above)
¼ teaspoon salt
100 grams confectioner’s sugar, sifted (I sift through a coarse sieve, not a flour sifter)
100 grams granulated sugar (I like Domino’s Golden Sugar)
2 large eggs at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 325°F, not convection.

Generously butter the sides of an 8-inch cake pan and line the bottom with parchment paper cut to fit. There’s no need to butter the parchment paper.

Pulse the almonds in a food processor until finely ground, but not powdery—less fine than commercial almond flour.

In a large bowl, combine the blitzed almonds, salt, sifted confectioner’s sugar, and granulated sugar.

In a small bowl, beat the eggs with the vanilla, then add to the dry ingredients along with the cooled, still-liquid butter. Mix until smooth and the butter is fully incorporated. The batter should be quite thick. Scrape it into the prepared cake pan and, using a small offset spatula, smooth the top.

Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until the cake is golden brown and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out (sort of) clean. (In my oven, 40 minutes is just right.) You want to turn it out of the pan quickly. After 2—but no more than 5—minutes, carefully run a small straight metal spatula or the blade of a thin knife around the cake in the pan. If it seems to be “pulling,” wait a minute and try again. After you’ve done this, release the cake. If it doesn’t seem to release right away, hold it upside down for a minute and it will release.

Cool before serving.

Note: This recipe is for an 8-inch pan. If you want to use a 6-inch pan to make a very small cake, simply cut the recipe in half.

Note: I use Kerrygold butter and keep both salted and unsalted in the house. This recipe calls for unsalted butter, but I’ve started using salted butter in my baking, so use whichever you prefer.

Dark Chocolate Ice Cream

Adapted from Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams at Home and Jeni’s Splendid Ice Cream Desserts by Jeni Britton Bauer (Artisan, 2011 & 2014)

Note: This recipe follows Jeni Britton Bauer’s method for ice cream made with cream cheese as the stabilizer. If you’re new to the technique, see my Sweet Cream Ice Cream post for a detailed explanation and book recommendations.

Note: If you have an immersion blender, it will come it handy, but it's not necessary.

Makes about 1 quart

Chocolate Base

 Make this first.

75g cocoa powder (I use Guittard Rouge Cocoa Powder)
2/3 cup strong brewed coffee
100g sugar (I use Domino Golden Sugar)
2 ounces chopped chocolate (I use Guittard 70% chocolate)

Mix the cocoa, coffee, and sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat and boil for 30 seconds. Remove from the heat, add the chopped chocolate, let stand for 5 minutes so the chocolate can melt, and stir until smooth.

Sweet Cream Base Specifically for Chocolate Ice Cream

600g whole milk
336g heavy cream
132g granulated sugar (I use Domino Golden Sugar)
3 tablespoons Lyle’s Golden Syrup
14g Bob’s Red Mill tapioca flour (what I use) or cornstarch
56g cream cheese
1/8 teaspoon salt (I use fine sea salt.)

Weigh the tapioca flour or cornstarch into a small prep bowl.

Weigh the cream cheese onto a small flat plate and sprinkle the salt over it. Use the tines of a fork to press the salt into the cream cheese, then transfer it to a container that can handle a bit of warm liquid—I use the tall beaker that came with my immersion blender.

Measure the Lyle’s Golden Syrup into a small glass—I use a 5-ounce measuring glass. You can microwave it for 30 seconds to make it easier to pour.

Pour the milk into a saucepan. Take a small amount of that milk and whisk it into the bowl with the tapioca flour until completely smooth. Set the slurry aside.

Add the heavy cream to the milk in the pan. Stir in the sugar and Lyle’s Golden Syrup. Bring to a low boil and boil gently for 4 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from the heat.

Stir the tapioca slurry once more to make sure it’s smooth, then whisk it into the hot milk mixture. Return the pan to the heat and bring it back to a boil, stirring constantly. Boil for exactly one minute—no more—then remove from the heat.

Add the warm chocolate base to the container with the cream cheese and use an immersion blender (or a whisk) to blend until smooth. Pour this chocolate–cream cheese mixture back into the saucepan and whisk to fully incorporate.

Strain the base through a fine-mesh sieve into a container. I do this in two steps: first through a rounded sieve into an 8-cup Pyrex measuring cup, then through a conical sieve into a tall glass container with a lid. (Jeni says you can use a 1-gallon Ziplock freezer bag, but I don’t.)

Make a water bath to chill the base. I use reusable gel ice packs stored in the freezer, since I don’t have an ice cube maker. Either works well.

Place the container of ice cream base into a deep bowl, preferably stainless steel, and fill the bowl with cold water—being careful not to let any water into the container. Surround the container with frozen gel packs or ice cubes. Jeni says the base is usually cold enough to spin after about 30 minutes, but I typically refrigerate it overnight to cure and chill it thoroughly.

When ready, spin the mixture in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s directions.

I divide the finished ice cream between two pint-sized cardboard containers—like the ones Ben & Jerry’s uses—and place a 6-inch circle of parchment directly on the surface before sealing. This helps reduce ice crystals and keeps the texture smooth.

This ice cream is best after about 8 hours in the freezer. I like to cure the base overnight, spin in the morning, and have it ready by dinner.

 

Glass Container I Put Ice Cream In

Pint Container I Freeze Ice Cream In

Ice Cream Chilling in an Ice Bath with Gel Packs Instead of Ice Cubes

For Julia Reed

I wrote the original version of this post on March 17, 2014, but on August 28, 2020, the unimaginable happened. Julia Reed died of cancer while vacationing with friends.

I say unimaginable because—even though I didn’t know—know her—she was part of my life. I had all of her books; I collected her newspaper columns; I read everything written about her that I could get my hands on. I wanted to meet her but didn’t think I really had to—because she was already my friend.

She made me laugh and shared her best recipes. She introduced me to her beloved beagle, Henry. She gave me decorating tips. She seemed larger than life and too good to be true. It’s hard to say rest in peace for the girl whose motto was Let the Good Times Roll, so I’ll just say thank you.

Here is Jon Meacham's Tribute to Julia Reed in Garden & Gun.

Original post from March 17, 2014:

Alex Witchel and Frank Rich used to top the list of people I’ve never met but wanted to invite me to dinner. I was hoping for great conversation and these lamb chops. But not anymore.

I want Jon Meacham to invite me to his place for a party.

Yes, we can discuss Thomas Jefferson. Yes, we can talk about Winston Churchill and FDR. Yes, I can ask what Joe Scarborough is like and see if he doesn’t think Mika Brzezinski deserves the Nobel Peace Prize for trying to keep the decibel level on Morning Joe down.

But what I really want is for his wife Keith and her friend Julia Reed to have me over so we can cook and eat together.

“There is nothing that makes me happier than discovering a new canapé or spending long days—and nights—planning a party. I have clocked so many hours with my friend Keith Meacham, who, like me, was born in the Mississippi Delta, armed with legal pads and Post-it notes, poring over seating charts and mapping out possible menus, that her husband Jon, the author and editor of Newsweek, now refers to us—with more than a hint of derision—as the ‘crabmeat caucus.’” 

—from Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties by Julia Reed (St. Martin’s Press, 2008)

I keep Julia Reed’s food columns from The New York Times in a binder. (The one called “Member of the Club” is my favorite.) Her books Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties and But Mama Always Put Vodka in Her Sangria are dog-eared on my shelf—and downloaded to both my Kindle and iPad for easy access. I even subscribed to Garden & Gun magazine just to read her monthly column, The High and the Low.

In a previous incarnation, I lived in Atlanta for eight years. I celebrated Thanksgiving weekends cheering on the Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets or watching football between the hedges at the University of Georgia. I ate my fair share of “puhmenna” cheese and hot pepper jelly and had a Varsity hot dog or two.

So, I understood exactly what Julia Reed meant when she wrote:

“In a city where ‘hors d’oeuvres’ all too often mean ubiquitous skewers of dried-out chicken saté or half-cooked snow peas with an ambiguous ‘fish paste’ piped inside, it is relatively easy to wow people, and I have yet to discover a deviled egg or a giant lump of crabmeat bathed in homemade mayonnaise that didn’t do the trick.”

—from Ham Biscuits, Hostess Gowns, and Other Southern Specialties by Julia Reed (St. Martin’s Press, 2008)

Now the 2014 holiday season is upon us, and in honor of Julia Reed, I’ll be drinking as much Champagne as I can get my hands on come New Year’s Eve. But once January 2nd rolls around and the post-holiday doldrums kick in, I’ll be dreaming about green grass, blue skies, 80-degree days—and this drink.

It’s my go-to summer cocktail for entertaining, and it’s adapted from Julia Reed’s Corpse Reviver No. 2. I’ve named it after Flavia de Luce, the intrepid young sleuth in Alan Bradley’s mystery series that begins with The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. With the Pernod left out, the corpse is left cold… not revived.

Flavia
Adapted from But Mama Always Put Vodka in Her Sangria by Julia Reed (St. Martin’s Press, 2011)

For one drink

1 ounce fresh lime juice
1 ounce Plymouth gin
1 ounce orange liqueur (I use Mathilde XO; you can use Cointreau)
1 ounce Lillet Blanc
1 Luxardo cherry, for garnish
Shake the first four ingredients in a cocktail shaker filled with ice until very cold. Serve in a martini glass garnished with a cherry.

Double Oatmeal Cookies

Adapted from Flavor Flours by Alice Medrich (Artisan, 2014), her brilliant gluten-free baking book.

Alice Medrich says: “Let the dough stand for at least 1 but preferably 2 hours or (better still) cover and refrigerate overnight. The flavor and texture of the cookies improve with longer chilling.”

Since this has turned into our house cookie, I want it to be the best it can be, so I refrigerate the dough overnight every time—even though it’s not absolutely necessary.

Double Oatmeal Cookies

125g oat flour
190g rolled oats
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon xanthan gum (essential—do not omit)
225–227g unsalted butter, melted and cooled
150g granulated sugar
150g packed light brown sugar
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs, at room temperature
115g coarsely chopped walnut pieces
140g raisins

Combine the oat flour, oats, salt, baking soda, and xanthan gum in a medium bowl.

Beat the eggs with the vanilla in a small bowl.

In a large bowl, stir together the melted butter, sugars, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Whisk in the egg mixture. Add the dry ingredients and mix with a spatula for about one minute. The longer you mix, the chewier the cookies will be. For crisp cookies, stop at one minute. Fold in the walnuts and raisins.

Cover and refrigerate the dough overnight. (If you didn’t plan ahead, a 1 to 2-hour chill will do.)

Preheat the oven to 300°F convection (what I do) or 325°F regular.

Using a cookie scoop and your hands, roll the dough into 25g balls. (I weigh each one as I go.) Place 6 cookies per parchment-lined half-sheet pan. For especially crunchy, almost brittle cookies, use foil (dull side up) instead of parchment.

Bake for 16 to 20 minutes. I bake mine for 17, but ovens vary. The cookies will be firm—not soft—but not brittle enough to shatter.

Note 1: I always preheat the oven long enough that it holds the correct temperature for at least 15 minutes before baking—30 minutes is better. Let the oven recover for 5 minutes before starting a new batch—the same amount of time the cookies should sit on their baking sheets before being transferred to cooling racks.

Note 2: Always use cool half-sheet pans for fresh dough. I have nine half-sheet pans to rotate through.

Note 3: This recipe is gluten-free, as long as the ingredients are. If you're using Bob’s Red Mill oat flour, make sure to choose the one labeled gluten-free (GF), and check the note on the package.

Note 4: This recipe adapts well to substitutions. I’ve used white chocolate–macadamia nuts in place of the raisins and walnuts, and also dark chocolate chips and pecans. I liked the white chocolate–macadamia nut version, but missed the chew of the raisins in the one with dark chocolate and pecans. Next time, I plan to try 70g raisins, 70g dark chocolate chips, and walnuts for another variation.chips, and walnuts for another variation.

Apple & Endive Salad

Adapted from The Martha Stewart Cookbook (Clarkson Potter, 1995)

This bright, crisp salad is wonderful during the colder months, when apples and endive are at their best. 

Serves 6–8

2 heads Belgian endive
2 tart-sweet apples (such as Honeycrisp or Pink Lady)
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard (preferably Edmond Fallot)
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar (I use white balsamic)
1/4 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup walnut oil or mild olive oil

Trim the root end of each endive and separate the leaves. Rinse and dry gently. Quarter and core the apples, then cut them into thin slices. In a large bowl, whisk together the mustard, vinegar, salt, and a few grinds of pepper. Gradually whisk in the oil until emulsified. Add the apples and endive and toss gently to coat. Taste and adjust the seasoning, if needed. Serve immediately while crisp.

Note: This version is adapted from The Martha Stewart Cookbook, with a few of my preferences noted. I use Edmond Fallot Dijon mustard, a French mustard I like for its smooth but assertive flavor. I prefer walnut oil when I have it—though it’s important to store it in the refrigerator and check it before using, as it can go rancid quickly.

Cocktail: The Americano

Adapted from The Cocktail Codex by Alex Day, Nick Fauchald, and David Kaplan (Ten Speed Press, 2018)

For one drink

1 ounce Campari
1 ounce sweet vermouth (Carpano Antica or Martini)
4 ounces cold club soda
1 orange half wheel, for garnish

Pour the Campari and vermouth into a glass. Add 3 ice cubes and stir until combined. Add the club soda and stir once. Garnish with an orange half wheel.

Sweet-Sour Cucumber Salad

Adapted from The Hungarian Cookbook by Susan Derecksey (Harper & Row, 1972) and The Frog Commissary Cookbook by Steven Poses, Anne Clark, and Becky Roller (Doubleday, 1985)

Most often I make a cucumber salad with sour cream. However, this sweet-sour version goes especially well with Hungarian dishes and pairs beautifully with Asian, especially Thai, meals.

2 medium cucumbers (peeled or unpeeled, if unwaxed—your choice)
1/4 cup white wine vinegar (I usually use white balsamic, since I have it on hand)
1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt

Halve the cucumbers, scoop out the seeds with a small spoon, and slice them thinly.

Make the dressing by mixing the vinegar, sugar, and salt. Adjust to taste.

Toss the cucumbers with the dressing.

Note: It’s best to let the cucumbers marinate in the refrigerator for a couple of hours if you have the time and think of it in advance. But don’t let that stop you—this salad is still delicious made just before serving.

Gratin of Potatoes (No Cheese)

Adapted from A Passion for Potatoes by Lydie Marshall (HarperCollins, 1992)

You must use some kind of mandolin—even a plastic one is fine—to slice the potatoes thin enough. I use a Benriner mandolin.

Serves 4 to 6

1 large garlic clove
2 pounds Yukon Gold or russet potatoes, peeled and sliced 1/8 inch thic1½ teaspoons salt
1½ cups half-and-half
1 tablespoon cold butter
1/3 cup heavy cream

Preheat the oven to 325°F. Butter a 2-quart rectangular or oval baking dish (a Pyrex dish works fine). Cut the garlic clove in half and rub it around the inside of the dish.

Peel the potatoes and slice them 1/8 inch thick. Layer the potatoes in the dish, about three overlapping layers deep, lightly sprinkling salt between each layer. Pour the half-and-half over the potatoes, just enough to barely cover them. Dot the top with the butter.

Bake for 45 minutes.

Remove the dish from the oven and pour the heavy cream over the top, tilting the pan to distribute it evenly. Return to the oven and bake for another 45 minutes, or until the top is golden.

Cocktail - The Last Word

Adapted from Cocktail Codex by Alex Day, Nick Fauchald, and David Kaplan (Ten Speed Press, 2018)

This is a lovely drink with a complex, herbaceous flavor from the green Chartreuse.

The Last Word
Adapted from Cocktail Codex by Alex Day, Nick Fauchald, and David Kaplan (Ten Speed Press, 2018)

For one drink

3/4 ounce gin
3/4 ounce green Chartreuse
3/4 ounce Luxardo Maraschino Liqueur
3/4 ounce freshly squeezed lime juice

Add the gin, Chartreuse, maraschino liqueur, and lime juice to a cocktail shaker filled with ice and shake until cold.

Cocktail - Corpse Reviver Number 2

 
Adapted from But Mama Always Put Vodka in Her Sangria by Julia Reed (St. Martin’s Press, 2011)

For one drink

1 ounce Plymouth gin
1 ounce orange liqueur*
1 ounce Lillet Blanc
1 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/8 teaspoon Pernod
1 Luxardo cherry, for garnish

Shake the first four ingredients in a cocktail shaker filled with ice until very cold. Strain into a coupe glass and garnish with a cherry.

*Regarding orange liqueur: It’s easy to make this more complicated than it needs to be. If you make cocktails at home, you’ve probably already chosen a favorite—Triple Sec, Curaçao, Cointreau, Grand Marnier, and many others. I like Mathilde Orange XO and Pierre Ferrand Dry Curaçao, both made by the same house. One (Mathilde) is sweeter than the other. I usually use Mathilde XO.

Cocktail - Thyme 75

Adapted from The Comfortable Kitchen by Alex Snodgrass (Harper Wave, 2021) and Cocktail Codex by Alex Day, Nick Fauchald, and David Kaplan (Ten Speed Press, 2018)

This is a festive, herb-infused take on the French 75, made with a thyme simple syrup that complements the botanical notes of gin and sparkling wine. 

For one drink

1 ounce Plymouth Gin
1/2 ounce lemon juice
1/2 ounce Thyme Simple Syrup*
4 ounces cold dry sparkling wine (Prosecco, Cava, or Champagne)
1 thyme sprig, for garnish

Shake the gin, lemon juice, and thyme syrup with ice. Strain into a flute or coupe, then top with sparkling wine. Stir gently with a bar spoon to mix. Garnish with a sprig of thyme.

Thyme Simple Syrup

250g filtered water
250g white sugar
10 to 12 sprigs fresh thyme

Heat the water in a small saucepan just until steaming, not boiling. Add the sugar and stir until fully dissolved. Remove from the heat, add the thyme sprigs, and let steep until the syrup cools to room temperature. Discard the thyme before using.

Snodgrass notes that this syrup will keep in the refrigerator for up to two weeks—so it's smart to make it ahead (just not too far ahead).

Note: Plain simple syrup (without added herbs or aromatics) can be stored in a sealed jar in the refrigerator for 2 to 3 weeks.

Cocktail - The Negroni

Adapted from Gabrielle Hamilton and Cocktail Codex by Alex Day, Nick Fauchald, and David Kaplan (Ten Speed Press, 2018)

Serves 1

1 ounce Plymouth Gin
1 ounce sweet vermouth*
1 ounce Campari
A half wheel of orange, for garnish

Shake or stir the ingredients together and either strain into an old-fashioned glass over ice or go rogue and serve it straight up, which is the way I like it. Garnish with the half wheel of orange.

*About the sweet vermouth:

Gabrielle Hamilton told The New York Times that in New York she uses Noilly Prat—unless she’s having a second one, in which case she switches to Carpano Antica, “because it’s softer, mellower, with a slight vanilla taste.” In Italy, she drinks her Negronis with Cinzano or Martini "because they are sold most prevalently."

The Cocktail Codex boys, without hesitation, recommend Carpano Antica. I think it’s delicious in a Manhattan, but for a Negroni I usually use Martini.

Cocktail - The Fresh Gimlet

Adapted from Cocktail Codex by Alex Day, Nick Fauchald, and David Kaplan (Ten Speed Press, 2018)
Serves 1

2 ounces Plymouth Gin
1 ounce fresh lime juice
¾ ounce simple syrup*
1 lime wedge, for garnish

Shake all the ingredients together, then strain into a coupe. Garnish with the lime wedge.

*Simple syrup:
From The Kitchn.
Simple syrup is equal parts sugar and water.

250g filtered water
250g white sugar

Heat the water by itself, but do not bring it to a boil. Add the sugar and stir until fully dissolved. Cool completely and store in a jar in the refrigerator. Keeps for 2 to 3 weeks.

I make a fresh gimlet because I no longer use Rose’s Lime Juice, which comes in a plastic bottle and contains high-fructose corn syrup and dye—things I avoid.

Cocktail Notes

Some Basics to Start
The two cocktail books I turn to most often are The Cocktail Codex by Alex Day, Nick Fauchald, and David Kaplan, and The Book of Cocktail Ratios by Michael Ruhlman. I also owe a big hat tip to John Maddox, who really fueled my interest in cocktails.

Simple Syrup
Adapted from The Kitchn

Simple syrup is equal parts sugar and water.

250g filtered water
250g white sugar

Heat the water by itself, but do not bring it to a boil. Add the sugar and stir until it dissolves completely. Cool and store in a jar in the refrigerator for 2 to 3 weeks.

Orange Liqueur
It's easy to make this harder than it needs to be. If you make cocktails at home, you’ve probably already figured out which orange liqueur you like best—Triple Sec, Curaçao, Cointreau (a brand of Triple Sec), Grand Marnier (not exactly, but similar to Curaçao), and plenty of others. If you want a deep dive, Serious Eats has an excellent guide.

I personally prefer Mathilde Orange XO, which has a hint of sweetness. Pierre Ferrand Dry Curaçao—beloved by many—is quite dry.

A few other ground rules
All citrus juice is fresh.
Only use Luxardo cherries. It’s worth going for broke here. (And remember: the spoon will have delicious syrup on it. Dip it into some lucky person’s drink.)

Jeremy's Black Beans

Adapted from the chapter “Beans and Me” by Jeremy Jackson in Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant, edited by Jenni Ferrari-Adler (Riverhead Books, 2007)

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 small white onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 15-ounce can of black beans, with their liquid
Salt and pepper
Sour cream, for serving (optional)

Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a 2-quart saucepan. Add the onion and cook until it begins to brown. Add the garlic and cook for one minute more, stirring, and being careful not to let it burn.

Add the beans with all their liquid, stir, and lower the heat. Simmer for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally so the beans don’t stick to the bottom of the pan. The liquid will thicken slightly.

Note: Jeremy Jackson serves these over cornbread, which I’m sure is delicious, but I serve them over rice. For a beautiful and satisfying plate, add a spoonful of guacamole on the side as a condiment.

Guacamole

Adapted from Truly Mexican by Roberto Santibanez, see also FOOD52

This can be easily doubled.

1 ripe but not mushy Hass avocado (the pebbly black kind, not the shiny green)
2 tablespoons finely chopped white onion
1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro (if it doesn’t taste like soap to you)
4 shakes Tabasco Original Red
6 shakes Tabasco Green (jalapeño)
Maldon sea salt, to taste, crushed between your fingers
Juice of half a fresh lime
Optional: chopped fresh jalapeño (include seeds for heat)

Cut the avocado in half, remove the pit, and scoop the flesh into a bowl using a tablespoon. Mash it with a potato masher, leaving some texture. Add the remaining ingredients and mix with a spoon. Taste and adjust with more Tabasco, cilantro, lime, or salt, as you like.

Note: You want to make it as close to serving time as possible. If you need to prepare it a little in advance, press cling film directly against the surface of the guacamole to keep air out. The lime juice helps too, but exposure to oxygen is what turns guacamole brown—so minimize it where you can.

Note: You can serve this with chips, as a dip, or use as a condiment with a meal.

Hungarian Stuffed Green Peppers

Adapted from The Hungarian Cookbook by Susan Derecskey (Harper & Row, 1972)

Serves 6

6 green bell peppers
Salt
1/4 cup rice (I use basmati because that’s what I always have on hand.)
1 egg, lightly beaten
A pinch of pepper
1 pound chopped meat, either beef or pork (I always use beef.)
1/4 teaspoon dried marjoram, crushed between your fingers as you add it
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
1 whole onion, cut in half and peeled (cutting it in half makes it easier to grate)
1 clove garlic
About 3 cups tomato sauce*
Steamed or boiled potatoes, for serving

*I don’t buy canned tomato sauce—I buy cans of Italian cherry tomatoes and put them through a food mill, but you can use canned tomato sauce for this.

Wash the peppers, cut off the tops, and core them carefully, trying not to puncture the bottoms. Parboil the peppers in plenty of salted boiling water for 5 minutes. This softens them and helps remove any bitterness.

Parboil the rice for 10 minutes.

In a large bowl, beat the egg with a pinch of pepper. Add the chopped meat, a little salt (no more than 1/2 teaspoon), the parboiled rice, marjoram, and parsley.

Using a Microplane Ribbon Grater, grate a quarter to a half of the onion (depending on its size) directly into the bowl. If you don’t have this grater, finely mince the onion—but the grater really makes a difference here because it gives you both the pulp and the juice, which helps bind and flavor the mixture.

Grate the garlic on a rasp-style Microplane—do not mince it. If you don’t have a rasp-style grater, it’s better to leave the garlic out than to substitute minced garlic.

Lightly mix everything with your hands—don’t overwork the meat. Stuff the peppers with the meat mixture, loosely. Do not pack it in, and do not fill them all the way to the top.

Place the peppers upright in a baking dish, pour the tomato sauce around them, and bake in a 325°F oven for 1 hour.

I serve this with steamed (not boiled) potatoes and often a cucumber and sour cream salad alongside.

Note 1: This is one of those recipes where the Microplane Medium Ribbon Grater really shines. It lets you grate the onion back and forth so that both the pulp and the juice go straight into the meat mixture. The flavor of onion is there, but you don’t get little perceptible bits of it in the meat. (I do this when I make meatballs too.)

Note 2: I use a standard rasp-style Microplane for the garlic. In this recipe, the garlic must be grated—not minced. (This works beautifully in meatballs as well.)

Left is a Microplane Medium Ribbon; Right is a Microplane Rasp

Lecsó

Adapted from The Hungarian Cookbook by Susan Derecskey (Harper & Row, 1972)

Serves 4

8 red bell peppers, sliced into strips about ½ inch wide (not rings)
1½ large yellow onions, chopped
Olive oil
2 to 3 tablespoons sweet (Hungarian) paprika
3 (400g) cans whole peeled tomatoes (Italian DOP or Italian cherry tomatoes), passed through a food mill
2 links Magyar Lecsó Kolbász, sliced into 2 cm rounds
Full-fat sour cream, for serving

I use my 6-quart All-Clad “stockpot” here because it’s wide rather than deep, which makes it easier to cook the onions and peppers evenly.

Cover the bottom of the pot with about ¼ inch of olive oil. Add the chopped onions and sauté slowly over medium-low heat, without letting them brown. Add the sliced peppers and stir to coat with the oil and onion. Stir in 2 tablespoons of paprika, letting it bloom gently over low heat—don’t let it burn. Add the remaining tablespoon of paprika and cook for another 3 to 4 minutes.

Stir in the tomatoes and a little salt. Partially cover the pan and simmer for about 30 minutes, stirring often to prevent sticking. After 30 minutes, add the sausage and cook for 20 minutes more. Don’t cook it longer—you want the sausages to heat through without leeching all their flavor into the sauce. Taste for seasoning.

I serve it with a dollop of sour cream, rice, and cucumber salad—either one made with sour cream or one with a sweet and sour dressing. Green beans, tossed with olive oil and lightly salted, go well too if I want to add a vegetable.

Note 1: The traditional peppers for lecsó are light green Italian frying peppers, but since they’re hard to find, I use red bell peppers. There’s no fresh garlic here—the sausage provides plenty. If you can find sweet paprika from Hungary (not just Hungarian-style), use it. I order mine from Kalustyans.

Note 2: When Walter was growing up, his mother made this —a traditional Hungarian dish of tomatoes, peppers, and onions—with slices of Magyar Lecsó Kolbász, a smoked and cooked garlic sausage. I order it from the Hungarian Meat Market in Fairfield, Connecticut. Judging from the ingredients, I don’t think this is actually a cold-weather dish in Hungary, but we eat it all year round. Still, it always feels just right on the day of the first snow.

Shrimp Salad

Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated
Serves 4

1 pound extra large shrimp (21–25 shrimp per pound), peeled
2 cups cold water
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice and another tablespoon fresh lemon juice (usually 1 large lemon is enough)
1 teaspoon salt
Reserved halves of the lemon, cut into quarters
5 sprigs of parsley
About 1 teaspoon minced parsley leaves
3 sprigs fresh tarragon
About 1 teaspoon minced tarragon leaves
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
1 tablespoon sugar
1/4 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons finely minced shallot
1 stalk celery, minced
Salt and pepper to taste

When you're done cooking the shrimp, you will need a medium bowl filled with ice water at hand, so you should get this ready in advance, being prepared to add more ice if you have to when the shrimp is done.

To make the dressing, whisk the mayonnaise, shallot, celery, 1 tablespoon lemon juice, minced parsley, and minced tarragon in a medium bowl. If you make this in advance, cover the bowl and refrigerate it.

Fill a medium saucepan with 2 cups cold water and add the shrimp, 1/4 cup lemon juice, salt, lemon quarters, parsley sprigs, tarragon sprigs, peppercorns, and sugar. Bring to a boil over high heat. As soon as the water begins to bubble (but before it fully boils), take the pan off the heat, cover it, and let it sit for about 5 to 7 minutes until the shrimp are just cooked through.

Immediately transfer the shrimp to the ice water bath to stop the cooking. Let them chill for a couple of minutes, then drain and pat dry. Cut into bite-size pieces if you like, or leave whole. Gently toss with the dressing and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Serve chilled.

Note: This is an excellent recipe for shrimp salad because the way you cook the shrimp before adding the dressing gives you nice, plump, perfectly—not overcooked—shrimp. Should you want to make shrimp cocktail instead, stop before adding the dressing and serve with your favorite cocktail sauce.

Ruth Rogers’ Favorite Tomato Sauce

Adapted by Ruth Rogers from Marcella’s Italian Kitchen by Marcella Hazan

Serves 2 to 4 (for ½ to 1 pound of pasta)

The special taste of the sauce depends largely on the way the garlic is handled. It must be sliced very thinly, sautéed only until it becomes just faintly colored, and then allowed to simmer slowly in the tomato so that it can release all its sweetness. Raw basil at the end contributes a fragrant fillip. Make sure the basil does not undergo any cooking. — Marcella Hazan

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 medium garlic cloves, peeled and sliced very thinly
400g (14 ounces) tinned Italian peeled plum tomatoes, cut into large pieces, with their juice (It’s always best if you use tomatoes from Italy.)
Salt to taste
Black pepper
10 fresh basil leaves, torn by hand into small pieces
(I don’t use any grated cheese with this sauce, but of course you can.)

Put the oil and garlic in a saucepan and turn the heat to medium. When the garlic becomes colored a pale gold, add the tomatoes and turn the heat down to very low. Cook, uncovered, until the oil floats free of the tomatoes—about 20 minutes.

Add salt and grindings of pepper and cook for another two to three minutes, stirring from time to time.

Off the heat, stir in the torn basil leaves. Serve on your choice of pasta.

Note 1: Marcella suggests spaghetti, spaghettini, fusilli, penne, rigatoni, or ziti.

Note 2: Ruth Rogers is a founding chef of London’s River Café and has an interesting podcast called Ruthie’s Table 4. In Top Foodies Choose Their Favorite Recipes of All Time (The Guardian, January 29, 2006), she chose this as hers. She said this is what she most often makes when guests come to her home for dinner.

 

Italian Tomatoes from Gustiamo