Gluten Free

Among the simplest and most useful all-purpose chile pastes—terrific as a condiment for grilled food, and useful by the spoonful in braised dishes—this one can be made with nothing more than dried chiles (the standard red ones, inexpensive and readily available at any Asian market, are fine), garlic, and olive oil. A bit of cumin or Tabil is a nice addition. However—and this is a big however—harissa need not be fiery; it can be made with relatively mild chiles, like New Mexico or ancho chiles. Furthermore, whether you need the chiles or not is up to you; even if you use “mild” chiles, the sauce will be fairly hot if you do not. Obviously, some experimenting may be necessary to find your tolerance level. I have eaten harissa in many different forms, and this recipe is my choice. Harissa keeps for at least a week or two, refrigerated. It will lose a bit of intensity over time, but this is not necessarily a bad thing; some would call it mellowing.

This takes a little time and a little care; the chicken must be browned fully before you add the vegetables, since the liquid they exude will stop the browning process. If you like, you can strain this stock and reduce it over high heat to a cup or two of shiny glaze, enough to make a flavorful sauce for meat, chicken, fish, or vegetables (store the sauce as you would the stock itself). To make this even richer and darker, substitute beef or veal (using the same cuts you’d use for beef stock, page 160) for some or all of the chicken.

The smell of dashi—the basic stock common to hundreds of Japanese dishes—is everywhere in Japan. And that makes sense: it’s a quickly made stock that gives all kinds of foods a good, distinctive flavor. The two main ingredients—kelp (a kind of seaweed also called kombu; see page 484) and dried bonito flakes (bonito is a type of tuna)—are esoteric, but they’re sold at every Japanese market and now at many more general Asian markets and health food stores. The process is simple, the results reliable; try it. But whatever you do, steer clear of instant dashi, which is just about as good as chicken bouillon cubes, which is to say not good at all.

This vegetable stock is not unlike Jus Rôti (page 163) but without the meat—the roasting step adds a layer of flavor that is a welcome addition to otherwise one-dimensional vegetable stocks. Although this is hardly a bare-bones stock, the addition of mushrooms or more root vegetables (especially parsnips) will give it even more oomph.

You don’t see much cilantro in Europe, but you find it in the southeastern part of the continent, where several cultures mingle. Regardless of this sauce’s origin (it is closely related to Tarator or Skordalia; recipe follows), it is fabulous with grilled meats, especially lamb. Walnut oil is not essential here, but it really does make a difference.

The easiest and most economical stock there is. And not only can it substitute for fish stock, but it’s useful in its own right. You can add vegetables, as you do for Fish Stock (preceding recipe), but it isn’t essential.

Though the fish industry is more factory oriented than ever, you can still grab a few heads and racks (skeletons) from fishmongers for free, even at supermarkets. All you have to know is that usually you want white-fleshed fish, without their guts (which are strong tasting) or gills (which are bitter). Once you have those, you can make good fish stock in less than an hour.

In Western cooking, vinaigrette is the closest thing to an all-purpose sauce. I recommend making vinaigrette in a blender, where it becomes so stable that it can be prepared hours before it is needed. Once made, it can be used on everything from green salad to cold meat, vegetables, or fish dishes to anything that has been broiled or grilled, whether served hot or at room temperature. I well remember the first time I had good vinaigrette, and it was in France. It was so far and away the best salad dressing I’d ever tasted (and at this point I was twenty-six years old, so I’d tasted at least a few, though the vast majority had come out of bottles) that I had to ask the secret. The answer—now so obvious, then a revelation—was shallots. But you can use such a wide variety of flavors in vinaigrette (see the variations) that these days the standard French variety seems almost clichéd.

If you thought consommé was for sick people, you’ll think differently after you try it. It’s deceptively addictive, a rich, clear soup with wonderful, deep flavor. There’s a reason this is a traditional starter at elegant meals; it whets your appetite without filling you up at all. You can use a food processor to chop the chicken and vegetables together; pieces about 1/4 inch in diameter are about right, so don’t overprocess.

Beef stock is made everywhere there’s beef—it’s a fine use for scraps and not-too-meaty bones—but it’s associated most closely with France, where, along with other stocks, it is considered the fond, the foundation or basis for many important sauces and dishes. While canned chicken stock is an often-acceptable substitute for fresh, canned beef stock is nearly useless, and bouillon cubes completely so. Though I don’t make beef stock even a tenth as often as I do chicken stock, I’m never sorry when I do; it’s incomparably flavorful.

Yes, béarnaise is overkill, but this old-fashioned sauce has such good flavor it deserves to be made every now and then. It’s best with grilled beef or fish. If you can find it, use chervil—a couple of tablespoons—in place of the tarragon.

An invaluable sauce that has countless uses with both fish (especially poached or fried) and vegetables, not to mention canned tuna. Make it once and, although you’ll probably keep the bottle variety around, you will turn to this time and again. For a stronger mayonnaise, use extra virgin olive oil and add a pinch or more of cayenne.

Easy to make—you can use a slow cooker and cook for about 6 hours—but, ironically, so easy to consume. When you make it, you’ll find uses for it, and it will be time to make it again. You can always use canned stock or water, but there is nothing like real stock.

Forget tartar sauce. Rémoulade is its predecessor, and it’s superior in every way, the ideal sauce for grilled (and other) fish.

The classic accompaniment to Bouillabaisse (page 138), this is also a great spicy mayonnaise for use almost anywhere.

Thin and crisp, the distinctively large and cylindrical dosa are the famous crispbreads of southern India. Made from a base of ground lentils and rice, they’re delicious and, paired with a simple raita or chutney, the basis of a meal for many people. I ate dosa with amazement throughout India, but I learned how to make them here, with help from Monica Bhide and Suvir Saran, both friends who have written wonderful books about Indian cooking. Note that the difficult part of the dosa-making process—soaking and pureeing—can easily be bypassed if you have an industrial milling machine that can pulverize the lentils and rice into flour straightaway. And a couple of companies do just that, adding salt and fenugreek for flavor, add baking soda to give them a little puff, and sell the resulting mix throughout India and in the States. This mix makes dosa a convenience food you can fry up at the drop of a hat. I think it’s still worthwhile to give this recipe a try, but if the soaking and pureeing are going to keep you from trying dosa, by all means use the mix. Soak the lentil and rice flour in water as directed on the back of the package, and when the batter’s ready, start with step 4. (You can use the mix for the uttapam on the next page as well.)

A festive dish that takes a bit of preparation—a simple enough process, but quite a few steps. Nevertheless, it’s a delicious and unusual noodle dish, and because it’s best served at room temperature, you can make it a couple of hours in advance. Substitute shrimp or fish for the meat (or omit it entirely) if you like. Precooked fish cake is available at Korean or Japanese markets. Potato starch noodles are available at Korean markets.

Though you don’t see Pad Thai all that much in Thailand (I was told there that it was “a Chinese dish” and therefore inauthentic), it has become a standard at American Thai restaurants—and for good reason. The combination of sweet, salty, sour, and spicy in a variety of textures is irresistible. There’s nothing difficult about making Pad Thai at home. Just make sure you’ve portioned out all the ingredients before you start cooking and, especially if you’re entertaining, take care of the first two steps before your guests arrive. Information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla is on page 500.

Interestingly, though this is usually and correctly associated with Eastern Europe, I had it first in northeastern Italy. That’s not entirely surprising, because the Alto Adige region of Italy, also known as the Tyrol, was part of Austria until after World War I. Often thickened with rice, this soup can also be used as a sauce for pasta; see the variation.

A filling, bright-tasting soup that would certainly qualify as a main course. To make it even more substantial, cut up a couple of potatoes and simmer them with the kofte.