Gluten Free

Duck confit is one of those foods that began as a method of preserving and continues because it tastes so damn good. It’s a simple enough process, and the results are dependable. It’s best when you use duck fat as a cooking medium. While not exactly a pantry staple, duck fat isn’t terribly expensive if you buy it from a specialty retailer that makes most of its money from other parts of the duck (like Hudson Valley Foie Gras: www.hudsonvalleyfoiegras.com). Fortunately, confit is not bad with olive oil either, though when you do the math on the two and figure in how delicious potatoes sautéed in leftover confit fat are, duck fat becomes increasingly appealing. My favorite way to serve duck confit is with a simple and strongly flavored salad of bitter greens—like the Green Salad with Vinaigrette, Roquefort, and Walnuts on page 165 minus the blue cheese and made, if possible, with a fifty-fifty walnut oil/olive oil dressing.

You see this dish made with a lot of liquid, the chicken simmered until tender, and you see it with the chicken sautéed and crisp, the liquid minimal. I opt for the second version, which I like very much.

“Crisp-braised” might seem like a contradiction in terms, since braising is geared to develop full tenderness, usually at the cost of crispness. But browned duck skin has such an astonishing capacity for holding its crispness that duck legs can be browned, then carefully braised, with the result being a crackling skin covering sublimely soft meat. This is a grand winter dish, the kind you would eat ecstatically at a neighborhood bistro, were you lucky enough to live near such a place. Serve with bread and a salad.

This dish incorporates many of the distinctive elements of Spanish cuisine: almonds, garlic, saffron, and sherry. The addition of hard-cooked eggs to poultry dishes, traditional and still popular, is called pepitoria. Serve with Yellow Rice (page 518) or any other rice or potato dish and whatever vegetable you like.

You can make this Provençal dish with whole duck, but it’s also great with legs. The covered pan-roasting does a good job of keeping the duck’s breast from drying out, while the legs become tender. It makes a lovely presentation, and the sauce is delicious. If you have only black olives, that’s fine, but add a tablespoon or two of capers to the mix. As with many (if not most) French dishes, this is best with bread and a salad.

An ancient dish that is made almost everywhere nuts and grapes are grown. Serve with rice or bread.

Sauerkraut complements roast goose perfectly. The acidity cuts through the grease and adds a wonderful flavor. Don’t overestimate the number of people a goose will serve; it’s a large bird, but not a very meaty one.

Groundnut (peanut) stew is savory, sweet, and rich. Its origins are in West Africa, where it remains a staple, but you see it in the Caribbean and even occasionally in the American South too. Traditionally made with raw African groundnuts,which are smaller than American peanuts, it is commonly made with peanut butter now. For a true West African experience, serve this with Foo Foo (page 473).

Bizarre, huh? But this is how I learned this dish, which originated with the mother of my sometime coauthor Jean-Georges Vongerichten. And it’s great: the wine adds fruitiness and the coffee bitterness and, of course, great color. No one will guess what’s in here. Unlike most goose preparations, this one can be stretched—with bread, side dishes, and salad—to serve six or even, in a pinch, eight.

Little more than chicken braised with onions but with a couple of “secret” ingredients. The first is a lot of saffron. Saffron takes a bit of an initial investment (it’s $30 or more an ounce), but it lasts a very long time; I use it regularly, and an ounce lasts me years. (Of course, I usually add it in pinches; this is a more extravagant dish.) The second is preserved lemon. If you can buy this at a Middle Eastern store, you’re in luck. If you can’t, you’ll have to make your own, but it takes weeks, so this recipe requires what you might call advance planning. However, the results are great even without the lemon. Couscous (page 526) is a natural here, as is the Spicy Carrot Salad on page 191.

Squab is the best bird for this—in fact it’s one of the best eating birds there is—but it’s expensive and not easy to come by. If you use quail instead, you’ll need eight birds (one is not enough for even a light eater). If you use Cornish game hens, you’ll need only two. Note the simple finishing “sauce” of salt and pepper mixed together. In Vietnam, this is more common than salt alone. See page 500 for information on fish sauces like nam pla and nuoc mam.

Escabeche (see also pages 235 and 350) is a great way to flavor food, by marinating it after it’s cooked rather than before. The cooked chicken (in this case) is bathed in an aromatic marinade. The soaking need not be long, but since the dish is best served at room temperature (it makes a good picnic option), you should plan to wait a while between cooking and eating. Use this as part of a picnic or buffet.

An unusual dish with the traditional addition of chocolate for richness. This is best with hare but very nice with the much milder domestic rabbit (and quite good with chicken, too). This is one of those rare occasions when I find a long marinade really helps. You can begin the dish in the morning and finish it that day or start it twenty-four hours (or even more) in advance.

You can make arroz con pollo, the Caribbean specialty, fast or slow. For weeknights, go with the stripped-down variation. But when you have a little time—and you don’t need much—make the full-chicken stock for extra flavor, and saffron for best color and complexity. If you don’t have stock, don’t worry too much. Since the chicken and vegetables are cooking in the liquid, the dish will taste good even if you make it with water. A few slices of tomatoes would go well here, or any salad you like. You don’t need much to round out this meal.

A dark, fairly intensely flavored stew that is best made with rabbit (or, traditionally, hare), but is quite good with chicken.You can make the entire dish in advance and let it rest at room temperature for a few hours before reheating (or cover and refrigerate overnight). This is lovely just with crusty bread, or with any potato dish.

The perfect poached egg isn’t easy to achieve, and it’s unlikely you’ll produce one on your first try. Patience. If you want to get good at it, sacrifice a dozen or two and practice. Or don’t worry so much; a ragged-looking poached egg tastes just as good as a lovely one. Just don’t overcook.

This variation of Biryani (preceding recipe) is spicier, creamier, and somewhat more complicated. Go easy on the cayenne: this is meant to be a fragrant dish, not a fiery one. Serve with Dal (page 433) or any Indian-style vegetable.

Few people hard-cook eggs correctly (and I myself have changed my technique about five times in the last thirty years, though I do think this is it). For one thing, they should not be boiled. For another, they should not be overcooked. Here’s how.

Eggs are a significant source of protein in India, and when you eat a lot of eggs you look for ways to vary them. This is a standard preparation and a great one for lunch, a late supper, or for those who like really savory breakfasts. They’re also made as street food, which is how I first had them—prepared at a cart and eaten from a paper plate standing up (and, in a hurry, in the back of a car). In India, these eggs might have cooked lentils (Dal, page 433), black-eyed peas (page 434), or cooked shredded potatoes stirred into them.

When you open the lid of a pot containing good biryani—the Indian equivalent of arroz con pollo or paella—the smell should drive you wild: chicken (or lamb), butter, and spices should dominate, followed by the subtle aroma of basmati rice. When it’s prepared correctly, it seems to me, you can even smell the salt. This is one of India’s—indeed the world’s—great dishes, and yet too often in restaurants it is underwhelming, underspiced, and made without care. The spice mixture makes the dish exotic, but though it must be made carefully it isn’t difficult. (The chicken isn’t browned, which actually makes it easier than many similar preparations.) One key is to use real butter (in sufficient quantity; I’m sure the ultimate biryani has more butter than this version) and good spices: cardamom in the pod, whole cloves, cinnamon stick, and real saffron. Good coarse salt doesn’t hurt either and, needless to say, the better the chicken, the happier you’ll be when you bite into it. It’s also important to leave the lid on as much as possible. I’m not one of these people who believes that rice must be cooked undisturbed (on the contrary, I think it stands up to all kinds of abuse), but in this instance you want to make sure the chicken cooks fairly quickly and that as much of the aroma as possible remains in the pot. The goal, remember, is to smell everything. Serve with Dal (page 433) or any Indian-style vegetable.