Vegetarian

Many recipes that pair carrots with orange call for cooking the carrots with orange juice. Here, I use strips of peel instead, so that you get just a hint of orange, keeping the flavors bright. In the restaurants, we use Thumbelina carrots, a cute, round variety with incredible sweetness. Don’t go crazy chopping the mint—you don’t want to turn it into paste. Just do a few quick strokes with the knife, toss with the carrots, and serve right away. You might want to caution your guests not to eat the orange peel.

There are as many springtime things in this salad as possible. In Seattle, we have so much rain that when spring comes, it comes HARD—favas, nettles, peas, spring garlic, and a host of wild little greens that go perfectly together. Regular balsamic vinegar is too heavy; white balsamic still has the sweetness, but it’s lighter and allows the flavors of the vegetables to really shine through. This recipe makes more vinaigrette than you’ll need for the salad. Use the remaining dressing on other combinations of delicate spring vegetables and greens.

For those of you not familiar with the term, “alligator pear” is a charming and old-fashioned name for avocado. I use the term here because this is less a recipe than a memory. When I was growing up, my parents thought it the height of sophistication to serve us halved avocados as an accompaniment to our after-dinner salad. They filled them with olive oil and sprinkled them with salt and never failed to mention how rare and expensive a treat we were getting. This is an homage to that family dinner tradition—half an alligator pear, made lighter and more savory with the addition of buttery Ligurian Taggiasca olives and a lightly dressed arugula salad. Serve them the next time you entertain and raise a fork to the Stowells as you do.

This dish is one of the simple joys that comes from freshly dug new potatoes and the inimitable artichoke. You need nothing more than garlic and a hit of thyme to create a side that totally speaks of the earth and that would make even a simple grilled steak sublime.

In this fabulous early-winter side, roasted delicata is caramelized in the oven and accented with the assertive flavor of dark amber chestnut honey. Delicata is a striped, hard-shelled heirloom squash that trades flavor for transportability. Unlike butternut or kabocha, delicata can be cooked and eaten with the peel intact. You can substitute other types of winter squash in this recipe, just make sure you peel them first and vary the cooking time accordingly.

You may know rapini as broccoli rabe, that delightfully bitter green you see in the market next to its mild cousin, chard. Blanching the rapini first tames a bit of the bitterness, while the straightforward preparation allows the vegetable to still be its bold self. Serve with roasted or grilled meats, dishes with assertive flavors that will hold up to the greens.

This salad is a stellar addition to a midwinter antipasto plate, full of bright flavors that seem to hint at warmer days ahead. In the short, dark days of a Seattle January, that’s especially welcome. Because of the salad’s simplicity, it’s important to use the heaviest, sweetest oranges you can find and use a firm, briny olive. Arbequinas or Gaetas are fine substitutes for the Taggiascas; mushy supermarket Kalamatas are not. Serve the salad shortly after you prepare it. As it sits, the flavor of the shallot continues to develop and the lovely balance of the salad is lost.

Wild watercress appears sporadically in farmers’ markets, but it also grows in more places than you might think. In Seattle, it’s positively thick around Lake Washington and easy to find and pick. Whether you forage for your own or buy it from a purveyor, make sure you pick or buy more than you think you’ll need. I like to use only the very freshest tips and bits for the salad. The peppery flavor is a nice contrast to the mild, grassy flavor of the pecorino and marries well with the earthy finish of the artichokes.

This lovely salad can slide from late winter into early spring when bouquets of radishes proliferate in the market. Some people find endive too harsh, but here the flavor is mellowed a bit and the leaves are given extra snap by a saltwater soak. This is a study in textures, with the silky endive accented by the crunch of the nuts, all lightly bound with a tart but delicate Meyer lemon dressing. Because of the egg yolk, the vinaigrette won’t last for more than two days in the fridge, but you’ll find lots of uses for any leftover dressing. Try tossing it with boiled Piccolo potatoes or use it on your favorite greens.

Baby beets shine like tender jewels in this salad, their color offset by creamy, handmade ricotta. Roasting the beets heightens the sweetness, concentrating their flavor, while the orange adds a touch of brightness. I use baby arugula and watercress here, though you can choose any other baby greens that have a little bite to them.

You know that friend who calls himself a “foodie,” who isn’t impressed with anything you make, because, yawn, he’s made it before and then took it molecular? Make him eat his words with ravioli stuffed with tender chard, rich ricotta, and—this is the magic part—a duck egg that stays intact until the ravioli is cut, releasing a luscious river of yolk. These are big and rich; two per person is plenty.

This may be one of the simplest recipes in this entire book, but it’s absolutely addictive, with the marinated pecorino offering a tangy creaminess that coats the silky noodles just so. Don’t be tempted to jazz this up with anything extra—it’s the comforting straightforwardness of the dish that makes it so good. Trying to make it fancy will ruin the magic.

Trofie, also called trofiette, is a Ligurian pasta made with just flour and water—no eggs. The squiggly little twists make a particularly good vehicle for pesto because it nestles into all those little crevices. The Nettle Pesto is lighter and less herbaceous than traditional basil pesto, making this an easy first course.

Hedgehog mushrooms are close relatives to chanterelles, with a similar flavor profile but a little bigger. They are abundant beginning in mid-winter; if you can find them in the market, grab them up. Their richness makes them a fantastic match for aged provolone and crispy polenta. This dish makes a great side, but it is also substantial enough to make vegetarian guests very, very happy. If you like, you can grill the polenta instead of sautéing it.

When you pour out the polenta to chill, don’t worry about making it pretty. Do what we do at the restaurants and use a cookie or biscuit cutter to create even shapes, or cut out wedges or squares—use your imagination. Grilled or sautéed polenta makes an excellent accompaniment to meat, game, or poultry. Try a couple of disks nestled next to a pork chop, roasted chicken, or guinea hen. Firm polenta should be crispy outside, soft and creamy inside, like a good French fry. In short, everything you could want.

Adding the cornmeal to the water, and avoiding lumps, is the only challenging part of making good polenta. In the restaurants, we make it to order, and I vacillate between using fine and medium grinds, depending on the finished consistency I am looking for. The coarser polenta has more presence on the plate and such a deep corn flavor that I think it’s a good place to start. Of course, fine or “instant” polenta has the advantage of being quicker to make. Traditionally, polenta is made using a wooden spoon, though I use a whisk. If you don’t need or want this much polenta, you can halve the recipe with good results.

If you are the kind of person who prefers a croque madame to a croque monsieur, the addition of the fried egg gilding the lily in a truly spectacular way, then this is the dish for you. Fresh pillows of gnocchi topped with earthy morels makes for a sublime dish all on its own. Top each dish with a fried duck egg, the soft yolk oozing under your fork . . . need I go on?

If you think you don’t like potato gnocchi, you’ve probably been subjected to some heavy, leaden mistakes. The good news is that it’s relatively easy to make your own, and following a few rules produces light, fluffy dumplings every time. First, it’s essential to use russet (baking) potatoes, and to bake them with their skins on to ensure they don’t soak up excess water from boiling and turn soggy. Peel the potatoes as soon as you can handle them, and mix the dough gently while the potatoes are still warm. If you’re nervous about the consistency of your dough, simply blanch a test gnocchi in boiling water before forming and shaping them. If it falls apart in the water, you need to add a little more flour to the dough.

Wood sorrel, with shamrock-shaped leaves and a more mellow and elegant flavor than its cousin, grows wild across the United States. Common sorrel is easier to find, with more of a pronounced sour-lemony taste, and can be used in this recipe if foraging isn’t one of your fortes. This is a refreshing soup, simple to make, with an elusive, unusual flavor due to the herb. Greek yogurt is thicker than other types of yogurt, but draining it still yields a denser base for the soup.