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I love lamb chops, and I can’t resist when I find a pair of loin chops at least 1 inch thick sitting side by side in a shrink-wrapped package at the meat counter. Expensive? Yes, and I don’t really need two of them. But I give in and set aside the uneaten portion of the second one to tuck into a small casserole of French lentils. It makes an appealing second dinner.

This is a very flexible stir-fry, so have fun with what you want to mix and match. The important thing is to get everything prepped ahead of time and lined up on a tray near the stove. Have your sauce ingredients mixed in a little bowl, and be sure to have your cooked rice ready.

From cooking a corned beef hash lunch with Julia Child, I learned a few tips about what makes a really delicious hash, whether it be made with cooked lamb, beef, poultry, or, in this case, pork. I discovered the importance of adding some stock and cooking the hash slowly at first, to form a glaze, and of always cutting the meat in small pieces, never grinding. You use approximately the same amount of meat as potatoes, and it’s essential to include some aromatic vegetables to give off their sweetness and help form the glaze that makes the crust. I am using a cooked beet here, because New Englanders always include it with pork—hence the name “red flannel”—but use other handy vegetables, such as mushrooms, red peppers, carrot, or fennel, that are good foils for whatever meat you have left over. I cook it all in my sturdy 8-inch cast-iron pan, which I think is better than nonstick for a hash.

You may have one whole cooked chop that you couldn’t eat, or you may have only a few bites. It doesn’t matter—the meat is really just a garnish to the lentils.

Instead of making the lemon scaloppine, try this delightful dish from Lidia Bastianich, in which the vegetables almost take center stage and the meat is an accent. It is important in reducing this recipe to one serving to use a small pan so that the sauce does not evaporate.

I give a garlic-ginger coating to the portion of the pork I’m going to roast. It should be applied at least an hour before roasting, but I usually do it in the morning of the day I’m going to roast the tenderloin. This is particularly good with some roasted vegetables surrounding the pork—halved small new potatoes, a root vegetable such as a white turnip cut in half, a few slices of celery root, a split parsnip, or some chunks of winter squash. Rub them in light olive oil first, salt lightly, then scatter in a small roasting pan around the pork. If they aren’t quite done when the pork is, turn up the heat and give them another 5 minutes or so while the meat is resting.

I like this in winter with rice, or with mashed potatoes mixed, maybe, with mashed parsnip or another root vegetable. In summer, it’s good with almost anything from the garden.

I can’t resist a piece of calf’s liver when I see it—all too infrequently—in the meat counter. It’s even better if you get it from a considerate butcher who will cut an even-sized 1/4-inch slice and spare you the finicky job of removing the outside membrane. Liver in a winey sauce is particularly good on a cold winter night; somehow I always feel my red corpuscles are strengthened by its rich meatiness. I like it with some potatoes alongside. If you have a couple of cooked potatoes, you can brown them in a little butter while the liver cooks, or if you don’t have them on hand, try grating a medium raw potato through the coarse holes of a grinder and make a quick potato pancake.

This is something I’m tempted to make when my supply of rich beef broth is low. But maybe that’s an excuse. The truth is, I love eating these cuts, spooning out the marrow from the shank, and, in the second dish, sucking off meat from the little tail bones. It’s nice, messy eating, perhaps best enjoyed alone with a kitchen towel around one’s neck. I usually still have some meat left after lapping up these two dishes—just enough to make myself a pasta on a night when I want a quick supper. Then there’s the treasure of the rich beef broth to put away.

Every now and then I get a yearning for this dish, which you’ll readily find in almost any little bistro in Paris. The Dijon mustard is the perfect complement to the earthiness of the kidneys, and it is a particularly comforting dish to savor on a raw winter day. Kidneys seem to be increasingly hard to come by in our markets today, so when you see them, bring them home. Even if you think you don’t like rognons de veau, I beg you to try cooking them this way. I think you’ll be converted. Recently I asked the butcher at Citarella, a first-rate purveyor in New York City, if he had veal kidneys. Sure enough, he found some in the chiller below. But the one he brought up and proudly showed me turned out to weigh just over a pound (most veal kidneys are 7–9 ounces untrimmed). Still, I couldn’t resist, and as I thought of how I might use up what remained, a vision of a little beef and kidney pie, which my mother used to serve occasionally, popped into my mind (recipe follows). I’d quickly decided to make it with some good leftover Boeuf Bourguignon (preceding recipe), so I also purchased a pound of stewing meat and went home planning my dinners for the week ahead.

This is my favorite steak. I like the chewiness of the cut and the faint marbling of fat, just enough to keep it well lubricated. And I find it a good size for the single cook. A skirt steak of approximately 14 ounces gives me three fine meals. First I have a piece of rare steak quickly sautéed and garnished with a little pan sauce of wine and shallots; then I have a few slices of it cold for lunch with a piquant sauce; and finally, later in the week, I’ll use what remains in a delicious baked dish with mushrooms and breadcrumbs, an inspiration of the late Mireille Johnston, whose books taught us so much of what regional French home cooking is all about—thriftiness, inventiveness, and good taste.

People often asked me, as I was writing this book, What should I do with chicken breasts? I think they want to cook chicken breasts because they are lean (therefore supposedly good for you) and quick to prepare, but there’s that persistent problem that there are inevitably two to a package, too much for a single meal. Frankly, I see that not as a problem but as an asset, because, again, you have something to play with for a second round. Here is a basic recipe for cooking the chicken so that it is flavorful and not dried out; it can be varied in as many ways as there are vegetables in season. I confess that I prefer dark chicken meat over light; if you feel the same way, just substitute two leg-thigh pieces for the breast meat, and cook about 5 minutes longer.

Minces were quite popular in nineteenth-century American cooking. I often had minced chicken and turkey and sometimes lamb on toast as a child, and I always loved the simple, soothing flavor of those dishes. If you haven’t got cream sauce on hand, just use cream and let it cook down a little.

I use the same technique for broiling a chicken as I do for roasting it whole. I make a tasty mix of shallots, garlic, lemon rind, and herbs moistened with olive oil and rub that under the skin of the chicken at least an hour before cooking. The advantage of broiling is that it’s quicker, particularly if you do the preliminary under-the-skin stuffing in the morning. Then, when you get home, you have only to put the accompanying vegetables on a baking tray along with the chicken and you’ll have a full dinner ready in 30 minutes with lots of good left-over chicken to play with during the week. You can, of course, just get half a chicken (leg/thigh/breast piece) and have only a little left over, but I find the birds for roasting are apt to be plumper and more flavorful, particularly if you get an organic, decently raised chicken. And I like to have the gizzards, neck, and backbone for stock, and the liver for my own treat (see page 100).

If you are looking to save money, taking the time to roast your own chicken really can go a long way. Plus this foolproof method makes for a delicious chicken every time. After trying this traditional, scrumptious recipe, don’t forget to make your own chicken broth from the chicken bones, which are rich in flavor. Talk about more cluck for your buck.

Make this casserole when you’re short on time but want something big on taste. It’s a cinch to whip together, so even beginner cooks will earn oodles of praise. There are many variations of this type of casserole dish, but you’ll find our personal favorite way of making this dish below. Want to be totally indulgent? Add another layer of crescent rolls to the top of the casserole. It’s like your own bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich on a croissant roll! Indulgent? Yes. Tasty? You betcha!

Oatmeal is one of the healthiest and most energy-packed breakfast foods around. To give our loved ones a great start to their day while keeping a lazy weekend morning—well—lazy, we created this casserole. The three kinds of dried fruit and touch of vanilla dress it up just enough so that it still feels like a treat.