Fennel is among the most versatile of vegetables: it’s good whether it’s eaten raw in salads, or cooked in any number of ways, and I use it as an aromatic vegetable, often instead of celery, in mirepoix (diced carrot, onion, and celery) and other preparations. Cultivated fennel forms a compact, pale white bulb that is topped with fibrous green stalks and feathery leaves. The flavor is reminiscent of anise or licorice. Look for firm, undamaged bulbs that have no signs of drying or shrinking. The fronds should be fresh and vibrant. To prepare fennel, trim away the darker fibrous stalks and bottom end, and remove any outer layers that are tough or blemished. Fennel should be cut close to the time it is needed, as it will oxidize and brown over time. Cover cut fennel with a damp cloth to protect it. Many recipes ask you to remove the core, but I don’t find it necessary; on the contrary, I like the taste of the core and find it quite tender. The feathery dark green fennel leaves can be stripped from the stalks and chopped to use as a flavorful garnish. Wild fennel is an uncultivated variety of fennel that does not produce a bulb. Its leaves, flowers, pollen, and seeds are all very flavorful and useful in stuffings, marinades, garnishes, and sauces. If it grows in your region, forage for it in the wild.
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.
This classic 15-minute sauce is your secret weapon for homemade mac and cheese, chowder, lasagna, and more.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.
This is the type of soup that, at first glance, might seem a little…unexciting. But you’re underestimating the power of mushrooms, which do the heavy lifting.
I should address the awkward truth that I don’t use butter here but cream instead. You could, if you’re a stickler for tradition (and not a heretic like me), add a big slab of butter to the finished curry.