Vegetarian

In the States, cream soup usually conjures up images of thick, starchy soup with canned vegetables. But real cream soup, as made in France, is relatively thin, super-smooth, and fragrant with fresh vegetables and herbs. For convenience, you might prepare the vegetable puree ahead of time and refrigerate it; you can then finish the soup right before serving. Note that Vichyssoise, cold leek and potato soup, the variation that follows, is a direct descendant.

Here sorrel brings both acidity and lightness to an often heavy mixture. You can substitute watercress or spinach for the sorrel to similar effect, especially if you add a squeeze of lemon at the end. Though it has only two primary ingredients, this soup is quite complex, particularly when you begin with good stock. The best lentils to use here are lentilles du Puy or other small dark green ones. Use the greenish brown variety only if you cannot find these.

I first ate this soupy stew (or stewy soup) at a lunch counter in Istanbul and was taken by its depth of flavor. It seemed that either the whole was greater than the sum of its parts or there were some hidden ingredients. It turned out to be the former, or nearly so; through an interpreter, I learned that the dish did not begin with stock but with water and that the only ingredient I was not seeing was a bit of garlic. The cook offered that one might add a bit of butter for richness but that he hadn’t done so with this batch. If you want to turn this into a more filling main course, use stock instead of water, add some cubed boneless chicken or lamb, season it with a little cumin or dill, and finish it with lemon. You’ll wind up with a bigger, more substantial Turkish-style stew, though not necessarily a better one.

The thyme really shines in this soup, which is unusual for its use of sautéed apples as a slightly crisp, sweet garnish. In the old days, during times of bounty, a piece of meat would be added with the cabbage; you can do that too, but the cooking process will get much longer. I find this light, first-course soup much more useful without it.

A simple sauce that is often served with bollito misto, the mixed boiled meat dish of central Italy, this is a great homemade replacement for ketchup. Nice with grilled meats.

From the Mediterranean coast of Spain comes this distinctive sauce, whose flavors are reminiscent of bouillabaisse. Not surprisingly, it’s often served on grilled fish, but it is equally good on chicken and incredible over pork. If possible, use strong-tasting oranges—Valencias are a good choice—not overly sweet ones like navels. In Spain, the oranges used for this are very acidic, even bitter.

Essentially prepared homemade horseradish and powerful stuff. If you want to make it in quantity, that’s fine, but wear goggles (seriously). Even with small amounts, keep your hands away from your eyes until you have washed them well.

You can make horseradish sauce by blending freshly grated (or even bottled) horseradish into many dairy products: Whipped cream or yogurt, for example. I like it best with sour cream, its flavor boosted with a little mustard and vinegar, though neither is essential.

Practically ubiquitous in Sweden and wonderful with cold vegetables, gravlax, cold meats, and sandwiches. You can leave it fairly thick and use it as a dip or thin it as much as you like to make it a little more saucy or even as thin as a salad dressing.

Probably the quickest salsa you can make and a fresh, delicious one for chips or simply cooked fish or chicken. Best with good fresh tomatoes, but still decent with canned (and definitely better with canned than with hard, unripe “fresh”).

A standard and very useful salsa, great with anything grilled. I don’t make it fiery hot—it’s based on mild chiles—but you can add more of the hot ones if you like, and it’s easy enough.

Reminiscent of canned chipotles in adobo, but obviously fresher and with an emphasis on the tomatoes and the smokiness the chipotles bring, rather than their heat. (You can, of course, make it hotter by adding more chipotles.) It’s good stirred into soups but is used primarily as a salsa for bland dishes, whose blandness will be turned around immediately.

This is a sharp, spiky sauce, but not a superhot one (it’s not a supergreen one, either!). Use it as a dip for chips or vegetables or as a basting sauce when roasting meat, fish, or vegetables.

A raw salsa, with nice strong flavors. Best with tomatillos, but still good with not-too-hard green tomatoes. I like to mix a little just-ripe red tomato in as well.

A tiny little side condiment served with grilled chicken or fish that can make any meal sing. It’s fine without any chile at all, but I like a touch. This is a very fragile dish; make it at the last minute and serve it all at once. It will go fast, believe me.

Powerfully delicious, this sauce is served throughout the Caribbean, often with grilled chicken but also over vegetables. Best made with the juice of sour oranges, but you won’t find those here; I use a combination of orange and lime juices.

Not “caramel apples”—whole apples coated with candy—but caramelized: Sliced apples baked in caramelized butter and sugar until lightly browned, served warm or at room temperature. If you think applesauce smells good when you make it, wait till you try this—for many, a new way to enjoy our continent’s favorite fruit. There are two ways I like to prepare this: One when I have time and one when I’m in a hurry. The preferred method—essentially a tarte tatin without the crust (if you like, top it with Sweet Tart Pastry, page 654, before baking)—is the main recipe, but it takes a while. This is good with pears (not too ripe) or Asian pears, too.

There are many ways to serve this simple classic, but I like to pipe the meringue into a ring on a baking sheet, then fill the center with the puree and top it with a little sour cream. The result is a surprising, rather elegant winter dessert that’s not too heavy but certainly sweet enough and fun to eat.

Pronounced cla-FOO-tee, this is one of the most successful spontaneous desserts you can add to your repertoire, yet fancy enough for a blowout dinner party. It can be made with any ripe fruit (including berries, and even apples if you cook them) and (aside from such tasks as pitting cherries and the like) takes well under an hour to prepare. Note that in place of the cream and milk mixture you can use half-and-half.

The small “finger” bananas are perfect for this, because they’re denser-fleshed than regular bananas; you can find them at many supermarkets and almost all Asian and Latin markets. Regular bananas work well too, of course, but they should not be too ripe.