Gluten Free

I never did find out what this was called in Germany, but I do know it’s surprisingly good even though it’s the kind of concoction you’d come up with to make use of the last three ingredients in the house. The pears’ sweetness offsets the saltiness of the ham (this is a good place to use ordinary ham, as long as it’s not too sweet; prosciutto or the like would be overkill), the green beans add freshness (and welcome color), and the three distinct textures make the eating fun. Serve with simply cooked meat or fish.

“Russian Sauce” is probably the origin of Russian dressing, though the two no longer have much in common; still, the pickles and capers mark the relationship. This is most traditionally made with sturgeon (which is a wonderfully sturdy and flavorful fish) but can be made with any firm white fillet, from carp, catfish, or sturgeon to red snapper, sea bass, or grouper. Serve with boiled potatoes or plain white rice.

Remember fish dishes baked with canned cream of mushroom soup? This is the original, and you may not believe how good it is. Never buy dried porcini in the tiny packages sold at stores. A package should contain at least an ounce, and the mushrooms should look like mushrooms, not powder. Given that you can buy a pound of dried porcini for as little as $25 (look on the Internet), you should expect to pay no more than $5 for an ounce. Serve this with buttered rice or noodles.

Closely related in flavor and spirit to the classic French pissenlit (dandelion greens with bacon), this differs in that the greens are cooked from the start. Also, though it may be finished with lemon, vinegar is almost never used. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: any relatively tender, bitter green—curly endive, escarole, dandelion, even Belgian endive, cut crosswise.

An unexpected but delicious use for hard-cooked eggs that, of course, can be made in advance. If you have fish stock, poach the fish in it, but if you don’t, don’t worry about it. Serve this with plain boiled potatoes.

This is an excellent side dish, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with salt, the base of an elegant salad—combine it with Gorgonzola and walnuts, for example—or a fine topping for Grilled Polenta (page 530) or Crostini (page 41). Other vegetables to prepare this way: split Belgian endives (use four), or even small heads of romaine lettuce.

Think of this as a simpler take on paella. It’s Eastern European in origin, so it was often made with freshwater fish, but you can use any fillets you want. With a salad, this is a wonderful—and very fast—one-pot meal. If you’re using water instead of stock, you might augment its flavor slightly by simmering it for 15 minutes with a carrot, an onion, and a celery stalk, along with a few peppercorns, a garlic clove, a bay leaf, and a teaspoon of vinegar; strain before proceeding. If you don’t have time for this, that’s fine too—the dish will still be good, even if you just use water.

Caraway seeds have too long been relegated to the tops of rye bread; their bitter, nutty flavor is distinctive and easy to like.Here they dominate a simple Romanian sauce used for fish. To crush the seeds, put them in a plastic bag and press on it with the bottom of a pot—really lean into it, rock back and forth a bit, and you’ll get it. If you can lay your hands on crusty rye or pumpernickel bread, this is the place for it. Salad or any simple vegetable dish, along with rice if you don’t have or want bread, would also be good.

Endives have a couple of things going for them: they’re grown inside (mostly in the dark, so they stay white), so they’re fresh all year round; they have great form and nice crunchy texture; they are unusually bitter, but in a pleasant way. Cooked—especially with good stock—they are elegant and delicious. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: leeks (split and washed), romaine lettuce (quartered, the long way), or any root vegetable—especially carrots.

Sour cream sauce is standard throughout Eastern Europe, and it’s not as bland as you might think or as you might have experienced. The dish should be quite sour, for one thing, and a bit hot—if your paprika has little flavor, either buy a new supply or spike it with cayenne—and it should be finished with fresh herbs. Serve this over rice or buttered noodles or with crusty bread.

Do not skimp on the olive oil here; its flavor is integral. Really, this is escarole braised in olive oil, an extremely useful and wide-ranging technique. You can omit the anchovies if you like or add pine nuts (about 1/4 cup), raisins (1/4 cup), pitted black or green olives (about 1/2 cup), or about 1/2 cup chopped tomato. You can also use wine or stock in place of the water, for a richer taste. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: this is a classic and basic recipe that can be used for almost any green or in fact for “harder” vegetables like cauliflower or broccoli, following exactly the same procedure. Cooking time will vary.

This dish sparks a vision of an ice fisher on a frozen Eastern European lake, bringing home a fresh carp, combining it with two of that region’s winter staples—bacon and sauerkraut—and roasting it over a hot fire. What a treat that must have been and what a relief from what might have been months without any fresh meat or fish at all. It’s a great dish in a warm winter kitchen in the twenty-first century, too. Use sauerkraut that is fresh or packed in plastic (never canned), which contains no more than cabbage and salt; real sauerkraut needs no preservatives. Serve the dish with mashed or boiled potatoes.

The ideal fish for this Norman preparation is Dover sole—the real thing, a fish with great flavor and unmatched texture. But this isn’t an ideal world—you’re unlikely to find Dover sole and equally unlikely to want to pay the asking price if you do. Fortunately, cod is a good substitute. In fact, as long as you don’t overcook it, it’s fantastic here. Any firm but not tough white fillet will also work: red snapper and black sea bass are excellent choices. If you can pick up mussels at the same time, by all means go for the variation; the broth and overall results will be improved markedly. In Normandy, this would inevitably be accompanied by a potato gratin like the one on page 482 and, if you were lucky, a salad.

The bright green stir-fry of Chinese restaurants. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: if you can’t find gai lan, use broccoli raab or even collards or kale; broccoli or cauliflower will work too.

People cook food in packages all over the world—the tamale counts as one, too—but leave it to the Italians to do it simply. In Rome, you would have this with bass or turbot, but really it can be made with any fillet you like. Cooking in packages requires a small leap of faith to determine that the food is done, because once you open the packages you want to serve them. This method has always worked well for me.

Think of this as the Middle Eastern version of creamed spinach, served at room temperature. The yogurt is uncooked, which keeps it fresh and tangy. Other vegetables to prepare this way: spinach.

Kale and collards are interchangeable here; just make sure to discard any stems more than 1/8 inch thick—they will not cook in time. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: any dark greens, like turnip, mustard, dandelion; shredded cabbage of any type.

Leeks have an alluring, herbaceous flavor unlike any other allium, and this simple salad is a great way to show it off. With slight adjustments in cooking time and quantity of vinaigrette you could substitute scallions, ramps, or, for that matter, shallots or pearl onions.

You find this dish, or one like it, everywhere there is salt cod—which is to say, almost everywhere in the North Atlantic and parts of the Mediterranean. I like the Spanish version, which is reminiscent of a strong pasta sauce. In fact, thinned just a bit, this would make an excellent sauce for pasta, though I still prefer it with crusty bread. You can poach almost any fish in this sauce—any white-fleshed fish will work, though cod is the most obvious and logical choice—but it will never have the character brought to the table by salt cod, especially if you take the time to fry it first, as in the variation.

As with all braised vegetable dishes, the results here depend largely on the quality of two ingredients: the vegetable itself and the braising liquid. Since it’s easy enough to find good leeks, you have to be certain that the red wine is, if not great, then at least drinkable; and if you have good homemade stock, this is the place to use it. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Belgian endive, split in half the long way; onions, halved or quartered (or spring onions, left whole).