Whereas the Double Chocolate Truffles (page 172) are the easy crowd-pleasers, Wasabi–Black Sesame Truffles should be reserved for your more adventurous friends. When mixed with chocolate, the spiciness of the wasabi is subdued, but it brings out some bitterness in the dark chocolate and gives the ganache a subtle kick. The strength of the wasabi varies greatly among the different brands of wasabi powder. Start with 1 tablespoon and then feel free to add more to taste. Keep in mind that the flavor will intensify as the ganache ages. The black sesame seeds are an important component of the truffle, both for their texture and for their nutty sweetness, which helps balance the bitterness of the ganache. If you can’t find black sesame seeds, regular sesames are a reasonable substitute, but they are a little softer and have a less intense flavor, so toast them first: Spread them in one layer on a sheet pan and roast them in a 350˚F oven for 5 to 8 minutes. Check them after about 4 minutes and shake the pan gently to turn them. They should be a light to medium golden brown when they’re done.
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.