Vegetarian

Another quick-to-assemble mixture of bold, pungent flavors that enhances grilled fish, toasted ciabatta, or warm pasta tossed with thin strips of salami. For a more herbaceous taste, add a handful of chopped fresh basil or parsley. You might also blend in a few lightly toasted almonds for a more pesto-like consistency.

This recipe came about much like the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup commercial—“You got chocolate on my peanut butter,” etc. One day a long time ago, I had some peanut sauce left over from making pork satés, and I was in the process of putting together a cream of celery soup. I started thinking about how people have been known to eat celery sticks with peanut butter, so I swirled the rich sauce into the delicate soup. With a little extra garlic, chile paste, and soy sauce, the result was pretty darn tasty—and I’ve been making it ever since.

I belong to the growing cult who believe that celery is an underappreciated vegetable. Used raw, it has a juicy, nutty crispness that stands on its own with just a couple of other ingredients. When cooked, the flavor becomes deeper and richer, as it does in this soup. Don’t be fooled by the deceptively simple sound of this soup. This celadon puree is elegant and comforting, and can serve as the basis for more complex variations, such as adding leeks, asparagus, broccoli, or poached shredded chicken. Judicious seasoning is important, as salt will really round out the flavors. Croutons made from multigrain bread are the perfect garnish.

The secret to this soup, a luscious puree of caramelized garlic and onions thickened with French bread, is patience. I originally developed it at Savoir Faire. At the time I had a boyfriend who frequently traveled to Mexico. He would rave about sopa de ajo—a broth flavored with garlic and egg—and it sounded so earthy and scrumptious that I decided to try to make it. My approach to recipe development typically involves looking up several versions of a dish, then taking what I like from each of those recipes. That’s exactly how this soup was created. I trained with French chefs, so a puree leapt to mind. Then I read that in Latin countries soups are often thickened with bread. One version relied on fish stock, but I thought chicken stock would be more universally appealing. So I stirred all my ideas together, my mentor Daniel gave it his enthusiastic blessing, and my first true culinary creation was born. When we initially started making this soup, my dishwashers had to peel 10 pounds of garlic at a time. Thankfully, these days at Bayona, we buy peeled garlic by the gallon. In order to develop the proper deep, rich flavor, it’s essential to take your time cooking the garlic. You need to stir the mixture a lot over low heat and wait until the onions and garlic get very dark and caramelized. I love garnishing this soup with tiny croutons that provide a crunchy contrast to the silky body.

Taste a portion of the poblano. Some are spicier than others, so adjust the amount accordingly. If it’s really spicy you might want to add more mayo.

This salad was a customer favorite at Spice Inc. It’s best with buckwheat noodles, but it can also be made with somen (wheat) noodles or even spaghetti. This is a great salad to eat all summer long.

These days the phrase “pasta salad” registers as a bit of a throwback. But as long as I’ve been making this salad, people have raved about it and asked for the recipe. Orzo is a small rice-shaped pasta. It’s easy to overcook, so watch it closely and taste it toward the end of the cooking time. I actually prefer orzo imported from Greece—it’s a bit more toothsome than Italian varieties. Serve this salad as a meal on its own, or alongside grilled fish, lamb chops, or roast chicken.

I used to think that lentils were bland in a brown rice (good-for-you-but-boring) sort of way. But the luscious combination of ingredients in this salad changed all that. Loretta Keller, a former sous chef who is now an acclaimed chef in San Francisco, gave me this recipe. The lentils and dressing are great on their own, but they’re even better paired with goat cheese, with its creamy texture and tangy flavor, and ripe garden tomatoes. This salad makes a quick and easy lunch, especially with a loaf of crusty sourdough bread or some crostini (thin slices of toasted bread rubbed with garlic, sprinkled with salt, and drizzled with olive oil).

I have always loved leeks, but now they have a particularly romantic context in my life. The first time I met my (then future) husband, Chip, he cooked chicken with leeks, a dish that knocked me out. (I guess I should mention that he worked as a professional chef in New Orleans for ten years.) He blanched the leeks, so they were bright green and pliable, then wrapped them around a stuffed chicken breast. It was the most beautiful, seductive presentation. Since then, every time I cook with leeks I think of that dish—and him. Leeks have an interesting, subtle flavor that suggests asparagus or salsify (a root vegetable). A lot of Americans don’t know how to use them, and they tend to be pricey. But this simple bistro presentation shows that they are worth the splurge. This is the most basic French preparation for leeks, and one of the most delicious. It’s also the recipe that sold me on them forever.

This refreshing summer salad—a play of sweet and salty flavors—was inspired by some friends of mine reminiscing about the food they ate on a trip to Israel, where the pairing of fresh melon and feta cheese is fairly common. I was never one to sprinkle salt on my watermelon, but somehow with the addition of cucumber and citrus dressing, the contrast is incredibly refreshing.

If you’re making this salad ahead of time, you’ll want to lightly salt the cucumbers, let them sit in a colander to drain for 10 minutes, drain, then pat dry with a paper towel. If you’re going to serve this salad right away, you can skip that step.

Just in case you’ve been wondering what to do with that walnut oil that someone gave you for Christmas …

When I was a kid, I used to think that beets tasted just like the dirt they were grown in. Happily, I am older, wiser, less fussy, and can appreciate the sweet earthiness of these beautiful vegetables—and I do find that dressings made with a little fruit vinegar bring out the sweet and temper the earthiness. A bright, tangy goat cheese is such a perfect match that it’s become ubiquitous on bistro menus.