Saute

Potatoes will never taste the same after you have tried this dish. This preparation captures the beauty of the cooking of Basilicata: straightforward, simple, but full of brilliant flavor. Even if you are not so passionate about hot pepper, I encourage you not to be timid with the peperoncino in this dish. Of course, this kind of simple cooking depends on fine ingredients. Excellent olive oil and good potatoes are key. I like russets, but Yukon Gold or waxy varieties would work, too.

For me, there’s no better way to dress spaghetti than with a fresh seafood sauce. And this sauce, from the old fishing port of Termoli in Molise, is as simple and delicious as any. In the restaurants by the docks in Termoli (near the old citadel called Tornola), just-caught seafood is served in a brodetto. You eat the seafood, and then the kitchen will toss spaghetti into the sauce you’ve left in your bowl. In my version of spaghetti di Tornola, the calamari, scallops, and shrimp are part of the pasta dressing, but you can eat the brodetto in separate courses, Termoli-style, if you like. In summer, I use my mother’s home-grown, sun-ripened cherry tomatoes to make an exceptional sauce, but in winter, a couple of cups of canned plum tomatoes make a fine substitute.

The Italian title calls for John Dory as the fish, and by all means use it if you can find it, but otherwise sea bass will be just as delicious.

On my recent visits to Abruzzo, I have been impressed as never before by the region’s Adriatic coast, with its picturesque trabocchi, the little fishing shacks that hover over the water at the end of long wooden piers, and by the fresh coastal cuisine we enjoyed, meal after meal. Here’s a recipe inspired by the delightful lunches of that visit, which we sometimes ate in view of the trabocchi, where the smoke rising from the ends of the piers told me the fishermen were cooking lunch, too. It is just the kind of fresh-from-the-sea dish they make, lots of shellfish quickly cooked in garlicky tomato sauce, then tossed with a pasta that traps the nuggets of fish and sauce in its hollows. My choice are the fat tubes called paccheri, a sort of giant rigatoni. In my opinion, there is no greater gustatory experience than the marvelous squirting that fills your mouth when you bite into paccheri full of sauce and juicy seafood. This pasta di trabocchi also has the distinctly Abruzzese touch of saffron (picked in the high plains of Navelli) to add complexity and depth to the sauce. And for me, saffron has a magical effect on the palate, creating the illusion of distant, mystic places. It’s a fitting flavor in a dish of the sea, and a symbol for those that travel the sea, the mariners of the Abruzzo coast.

Dress your fresh strangozzi with this meaty, multitextured sauce—ground veal and chopped chicken livers cooked in a tomato base—for a hearty dish that will delight carnivores and pasta-lovers simultaneously. This is also a great sauce to incorporate into risotto. If you are not enthusiastic about the flavor of chicken liver, use only 1/2 pound, for a subtle flavor boost. But if you love the organic richness of livers, as I do, use a whole pound. This recipe makes a big batch of sauce, so you can use half and freeze half (it will keep well for 4 to 6 weeks).

Zucchini is such an abundant and tasty vegetable, yet too often is bland and unpleasing when served. This preparation is simple and full of flavor. The anchovies provide much of it, and if you crave the anchovy taste you can increase the amount used. On the other hand, if you are apprehensive about anchovies, cut the amount in half. For extra spice, add crushed red pepper as well. Serve this hot, as an appetizer or a side dish, or prepare it in advance and serve at room temperature. It’s delicious either way (and thus an excellent buffet item). The savory zucchini makes a great pasta sauce, too—simply toss with hot drained ziti (or other short hollow pasta) and top with grated cheese.

You will find many ways to please your guests with this simple dish. The juicy, glazed onions are delicious as an hors d’oeuvre to be passed around, tossed in a salad, or served as a side dish with meats and fish. Here, I use balsamic vinegar to give the glazing syrup lots of flavor and a lovely caramel color, but you could use good wine vinegar as well. In which case, use just half the vinegar called for, and 1 teaspoon of honey. These onions are wonderful served warm from the pan or at room temperature and make a great house gift, packed in a nice jar with a label tied around the neck. They will keep in the refrigerator for a week or two and freeze well, too.

Vegetables prepared alla Genovese are among my favorite Ligurian dishes, made with the freshest produce and brilliantly flavored. I particularly love this sauté of spinach with anchovies, raisins, and pine nuts (and I’ve read that spinach prepared in this manner was one of Michelangelo’s favorite dishes, too). Each of the components makes a distinct contribution: The anchovies lend complexity and saltiness. The raisins bring sweetness and counterbalance the anchovies. (I give you the amounts of each that I like, but find your own balance of flavors by increasing or decreasing either.) Finally, pine nuts add a mellow, pleasing textural contrast. You can apply this trio of tastes to other vegetables; escarole, broccoli, cauliflower, and Swiss chard will all be delicious in such a preparation. Spinaci alla Genovese is wonderful served family-style as a dinner vegetable, or as a colorful bed for grilled chicken breast or fish. Should you have any leftovers, layer the spinach between slices of crusty bread for an unusual but absolutely delicious sandwich.

Here’s another example of a simple vegetable sauté with brilliant Genovese touches. As in the preceding spinach recipe, anchovies provide salty savor to the green beans, and slivers of garlic and lemon bring additional flavor notes. Great as a vegetable side dish anytime, these beautiful beans make a particularly delicious accompaniment to grilled steak or lamb chops.

Thick tuna steaks are not just for grilling. The stovetop technique here is quick and convenient. You use one big skillet for browning the fish steaks, make a simple (yet complex-tasting) sauce, and put the two together for a final brief braise that marries the flavors perfectly. This is the true alla Genovese method. If you prefer grilling to pan-cooking, however, you can certainly omit the first step of flouring and frying the steaks, and make the sauce separately. Use a smaller saucepan in this case, preparing the sauce as in the recipe, starting with the sauté of garlic, anchovies, and porcini in 2 tablespoons olive oil. (Use the other 3 tablespoons olive oil, and 1/2 teaspoon salt, to season the fish before grilling.) One advantage of a separate sauce is that it can be finished ahead of time, so when your guests arrive you only have to fire up the stove and cook the fish. And you’ll find it delicious with bass, codfish, or salmon as well as tuna. In fact, this sauce is so good, I suggest you have a good slab of focaccia to mop up the pan.

This venerable Lombard specialty belies its literal name. Pitocchi (taken from the Greek word for “poor”) were beggars who roamed the Padana lowlands during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries seeking sustenance; presumably a plain rice dish was what they got. Though simple to prepare, today’s riso alla pitocca is far from meager. Quite the contrary, it is rich in flavor from the pestata base and loaded with succulent chicken chunks.

Savoy cabbage is typically served as a cooked vegetable, but here the raw cabbage, shaved into thin shreds, makes a wonderful salad with great, resilient texture. Crisp rendered strips of speck (or bacon or prosciutto as alternatives) are a great complement, and the hot vinegar dressing is delicious. For shredding the cabbage, I like to use a mandoline slicer. These versatile cutting implements were once quite costly and usually found only in professional kitchens. Today, though, you can buy a decent simple mandoline for under $20, and I recommend that every home cook have one.

This dish changes with the seasons, adapting to whatever wild mushrooms are in the market, but it's just as tasty with cultivated crimini. Chef Bradley Dickinson, who offers it as an appetizer at the restaurant, also suggests serving it as a main with orzo on the side or over a bed of wild and long-grain rice.

There are two categories of entrée in Thailand: dishes served with rice, and noodle dishes, which are presented as one-pot meals and often eaten on the go. Rice noodles cook more quickly than wheat pasta and are the perfect neutral vehicle for intense Thai flavors. This Pad Thai is not the dish from the neighborhood take-out joint. "It ain't made with chicken," says Ricker, whose traditional take—pleasantly funky with fish sauce and preserved radish and a touch sour from tamarind—is meant to be eaten in the evening as a stand-alone dish.

I adore lentils, particularly the green French variety, as well as the little black ones, sometimes known as beluga lentils because of their resemblance to caviar. Both of these types hold their shape better than the typical brown lentil, and their nutty texture and flavor are divine. This is my favorite fall salad, made a bit indulgent with the addition of prosciutto. I first made this for an autumnal baby shower, and it was a major hit. The earthiness of the lentils and prosciutto plays wonderfully off the color and sweetness of autumn's bounty of peppers. This salad works equally well with meat, chicken, or fish. Best of all, it can be served at room temperature, and tastes even better the next day. So, make the salad the day before, heat up the grill, pop a few corks, and enjoy the sunshine! Serve this earthy salad alongside the duck breasts with a glass of Russian River Pinot Noir.

Roasted garlic adds a rich dimension to so many different dishes—and it's super easy to prepare. I usually roast about 2 heads of garlic at a time, but this recipe is easily halved.

We like to whip up this delicious tofu scramble with home fries made from Yukon Gold and sweet potatoes on lazy weekend mornings. Begin to cook the scramble just as the home fries are nearly browned to perfection so you can serve this hearty and soul—satisfying breakfast all at once. It tastes and looks great when accompanied by salsa or chopped tomatoes and a handful of garden—fresh herbs.

My client and friend Jeff Valko, whose personal chef I've been for years, loves this French toast. Being health-conscious and an exercise nut (like me), he likes to start his day with a protein boost. The apple topping is also delicious served over ice cream or frozen yogurt.

People often think of turnip soup as bitter and thin, but this one, made with young delicate turnips, is creamy and sweet. Blanching the turnips first removes any bitterness, and the sharpness of the greens makes a delicious counterpoint to the sweetness of the turnips.

My introduction to skate took place when I was a child, during a summer spent on Cape Cod, where, with my older brother and sister, I ran into a fisherman. He was an old salt, his arms deeply tanned and wrinkled from the sun, his beard scraggly and speckled with dried seawater. We asked what he had been catching. "Skate," he replied. Not familiar with the fish, we inquired further and he told us, "In New England we call skate poor man’s scallops." He explained that "back in the day," people on the cape would cut out rounds of the meat as a substitute for scallops because the species shared a common sweetness. What he didn’t tell us is that skate is notoriously difficult to work with when whole. I learned that lesson the hard way and, at the same time, realized the true value of the fish. In the fall of 1999 I had a lot of free time on my hands. Annisa wasn't open yet and I was just learning the art of angling. Jen and I had driven all the way from Manhattan to Shinnecock Canal on Long Island because we heard that striper fishing was particularly good there. After a few hours, and a rough time of it, I landed my skate. I am by no means squeamish, but this fish broke me. None of my extensive culinary training prepared me for what followed. It was the skate that would not die. It took hours; multiple gashes in the head; a three-and-a-half-hour airless trunk ride from Long Island back home to Manhattan, and a drag-out struggle on the cutting board. We gave up the good fight and decided to let the skate die while we watched TV in the next room. Since that traumatic experience, I have not personally killed another skate, but it’s often on the menu at annisa. It is robust and, yes, sweet-flavored, but to call it "poor man’s scallop" is inaccurate and doesn’t do justice to the distinct character of the fish.