Food Processor

It’s fun to tinker with a familiar formula to create an altogether different dessert. In this twist on pumpkin pie, acorn squash is sweetened with honey and spiced with cinnamon and ginger for the filling, while cornmeal lends texture and flavor to the crust. The checkerboard pattern on the piecrust’s edge is simple to do—just snip the dough along the rim at even intervals and bend every other section back toward the center. Don’t skip the step of chilling the pie shell before baking—it’s crucial to helping the edge retain its shape.

Crème brûlée—a French restaurant favorite whose name means “burned cream”—is delicious all on its own, but even more so when baked in a crisp tart shell. A kitchen torch is used to caramelize the sugar on the surface of the custard, producing spectacular color and crackle. If you don’t have a kitchen torch, use the broiler: chill the tarts for half an hour, then broil them for about a minute. For the best results, prepare the tarts no more than one day in advance, and wait to brûlée them until just before serving. This way, the shells will remain firm and crumbly, and the topping will retain its trademark sheen.

Cherries and almonds go hand in hand in many traditional baked goods. To produce this flat tart, lightly sweetened and spiced Bing cherries and ground almonds are heaped onto a rough oval of pâte sucrée; the edges of the pastry are then folded over and pleated to form a border, then the whole thing is baked to a gloriously glossy sheen.

A fresh-baked fruit galette is proof that you don’t need specialty equipment—or even a pie plate—to successfully bake a beautiful dessert from scratch. Here, sliced plums are arranged on an irregular round base of pâte brisée (ground almonds are sprinkled over the crust first). The dough is then simply folded over the filling to make a rough border. There’s no crimping or embellishment required; the unfinished edge is a big part of the appeal.

This is an ideal ice cream for early summer, when strawberries are at their peak of flavor.

Using tangy provolone is a nice departure from the usual cheddar in these light biscuits, which we created with the leftover bits of cheese that we serve on our sandwiches. When we put these on the menu, they sell out in two hours. Slice them in half and load them with your favorite ball. We like to make these really big, but you can use a smaller biscuit cutter. Just check the biscuits for doneness a minute sooner. If wild mushrooms aren’t available, use portobellos or buttons.

A little sweet with just the right amount of sour. We love this sorbet sandwiched between Chocolate Walnut Meringues (page 135).

Quinoa (keen-wah), though not a cereal grain because it is not a grass plant, is nonetheless a life-sustaining grain native to the Andes Mountains in what is now Peru, Chile, and Bolivia. Although it was a staple food of the Inca, who peopled those high places, somewhere along the way it got shuffled aside for wheat and rice, grain imports from the Old World, and for corn, the New World’s other great grain. There it remained, in the shadows of time, until recently, when health aficionados rediscovered its food value and deliciousness. Quinoa’s nutrition is unique among the grains of the world. Within each tiny, almost miniscule bit of it, there is complete protein. When cooked, the grains puff up four times their size into a pillowy mass that resembles the cells in a beehive, with each compartment distinct. That means quinoa serves up not only plenty of nutrition but also enough bulk to make a filling meal. Together with tofu, their nutrition pedigree becomes double blue ribbon.

Delicate and unusual, shrimp and pancetta combined into a sausage is an example of the delightful ways in which seafood and pork can glamorize each other, here in ravioli made easy to execute using store-bought wonton wrappers for the pasta. Edamame (fresh soybeans) and fava beans (broad beans), both Old World beans, can be used interchangeably in this recipe. Both are almost meaty and bright green, and provide similar vivid leguminous presence in dishes that employ them. However, practically speaking, edamame have the advantage because they are available already shelled in supermarket freezer sections in all seasons. Favas, in contrast, are mainly spring to early summer and fall fare, and they are a chore to prepare, requiring first shelling and then peeling each bean after immersing in boiling water for 1 or 2 minutes to loosen the bitter-tasting skins. (A side note: if you are using fava beans and purchasing them at a farmers’ market, you can probably also pick up some fava leaves. As our vegetable horizons expand more and more, they have become available and are quite tasty as a green for a soup such as this one or tossed into a salad.) Shrimp and pancetta sausage can also be made into small balls and dropped into a chicken or vegetable broth for a substantial appetizer or light first course. Or, you can use it to top small cooked and halved artichokes, then generously sprinkle the sausage with bread crumbs and briefly cook the sausage and brown the crumbs in a hot oven or under a broiler.

Duck was frequently on my menu when I was chef in the earliest days at what was to become the internationally acclaimed Chez Panisse Restaurant in Berkeley, California. I purchased the ducks whole, with heads and feet still on, in San Francisco’s Chinatown. It was always a chore to find a place to park, but I was intent on fresh-is-best even back then, plus the people and markets provided a wonderful ethnographic adventure close to home. Searching for something to do with the many necks left from cutting up the ducks, I created this duck sausage using the necks as casing. I made a broth from the bones and other trimmed bits and braised the sausages in it. Serendipity! The lengthy braising softens the skin casing almost to butter, moistening the sausages as they cook and producing a rich sauce for dressing the sausages when they are served. For this book, I have adapted the recipe to call for whole duck legs (drumstick and thigh combinations): easier to get and equally fabulous.

Cod, as food historian Mark Kurlansky convincingly purports in his fascinating exegesis on its commercial history, is “the fish that changed the world.” Evidence exists that commerce in cod was founded in the tenth century by seafaring Vikings who, seeking new fishing grounds when their homeland supply was depleted for the season, came upon Newfoundland and its cod bounty, establishing a trade route between the Old World and what was called the New World. In time, cod commerce gave rise to emigration and engendered settlements, eventually towns, along the northern Atlantic seaboard. Naturally, the first settlers in that harsh environment created food based on what was available: cod. Although much of it was preserved with salt to use at home and to ship across the Atlantic to the waiting market there, some was used fresh, especially in chowder. In this version, the cod is fashioned into a sausagelike mixture and formed into balls, which are joined in the soup pot by another popular local catch, shrimp. Northeast fishermen harvest the pink, intensely flavored Northern shrimp, also known as Maine shrimp, which are available only from winter through early spring. But almost any medium shrimp can substitute, as long as they are from North American waters.

In the 1970s, when everyone and their sisters and brothers became enchanted with French cooking, with Julia Child leading the way, quiche became the savory custard pie. The classic, quiche Lorraine, made with bacon and Gruyère cheese to enrich the custard, enjoyed star status as an elegant staple for brunch or for a first course in a multitiered dinner à la français. Variations in great numbers soon followed, and quiche in one or another guise turned into a favorite on buffet tables and appetizer menus. Here, with Toulouse sausage and a green splotch of spinach, the lovable custard-in-a-crust reinvents itself into an uncomplicated light dinner. Even though it is easier to purchase a prepared pastry crust, to settle for that is to miss the flaky, unctuous mouth delight of a homemade one. A food processor provides a quick, simple, and almost hands-free way to make an exceptional crust. A removable-bottom tart pan, such as the type the French would use for quiche and sweet dessert tarts, makes it easy to present the pie standing alone rather than in a dish, which is more awkward to serve from.

Tomatillos are a member of the nightshade family, which includes New World tomatoes and potatoes and such Old World relatives as eggplants. Although those wide-ranging kin have become familiar around the globe, tomatillos remain something of a country cousin, not much appreciated or grown outside Mexico and its neighbors to the south in Central and South America and to the north in California and the American Southwest. Tomatillos are an everyday must in Mexican cooking and dining, however, especially for one of Mexico’s great table sauces, salsa verde. Here the sauce, usually used as a dip for tortilla chips, becomes the medium for simmering meatballs. Make this recipe in summer, when tomatillos are in season. Canned versions are available, but they should be reserved for thickening chile verde and the like, much as okra is used in southern cooking.

Chorizo, at home in many cuisines, appears with multiple ethnic faces from Spain and Portugal to Mexico, South America, and the Latino-inspired cooking of the American Southwest. It can be stuffed into hog casing and used fresh, or briefly aged in the casing to dry out and intensify the flavors. Sometimes it is smoked, becoming more like a salami in texture. Often it is used fresh in bulk for dishes that benefit from a hit of red and spice. This version comes from Anzonini, a flamenco guitarist and world-class chorizo maker, who generously offered his recipe to Pig-by-the-Tail. We made tons of it, and it was always special! On chorizo-making day, the links were hung on the baking-tray rack for a few hours to dry and compact. The dangling sausages festooned the kitchen like chile-red curtains. It was a spectacle of hospitality and appreciated, judging by the number of customers who came to purchase some to take home when they were “done.”

Season: more or less anytime. A good vegetable bouillon or stock can be the making of many a soup, risotto, or sauce. Preparing your own stock from scratch is easy enough–but it does take a little time, so an instant alternative is often welcome. The choice of vegetable bouillon powders and stock cubes on the market is pretty limited. There are one or two good products, but if you use them frequently, you might find an underlying uniformity creeping into your cooking. This is my solution. Whip up your very own souper mix–a concentrated paste of fresh vegetables simply preserved with salt. It’s quick and easy to make and the stock it produces is delicious. You can use just about any herbs or vegetables you like–the important thing is that they are fresh and taste as vegetable-y as possible. My preferred ingredients are indicated in this recipe, but you could also use young turnips, shallots, celery, rutabagas, beets, or peppers, as well as bay leaves, thyme, lovage, or mint–almost anything, really. Just bear in mind that the character of the stock will vary depending on the ingredients you choose. The following are prepared weights; i.e., the ingredients should be washed, trimmed, and peeled (where necessary).

Season: October to December. I first made this deliciously sweet preserve while staying at a farm on Dartmoor. Melissa, who lived at the farm, came to help with the laborious job of peeling the chestnuts, and we whipped through them in no time. Adding honey to the jam seemed entirely appropriate, since that’s what Melissa means in Greek. I like to spoon chestnut jam into meringue nests and top with cream. Or stir a spoonful or two into chocolate mousse, or dollop it on vanilla ice cream before drizzling with hot chocolate sauce. This preserve also makes a lovely filling for chocolate cakes, and, of course, it can be enjoyed simply spread on crusty bread.

To make our linzer sandwiches, we substituted pecans for more traditional almonds, and cherry jam for the classic raspberry filling. The crumbly cookies with heart-shaped windows make delectable gifts for Valentine’s Day.

Fresh fruit and tangy soft cheeses make perfect partners for these salty-sweet wheatmeal cookies. Or, try using them in place of risen biscuits for strawberry shortcake: Top a biscuit with a dollop of sweetened ricotta cheese and some macerated berries.

This recipe combines a buttery Scottish tradition with the flavors of the Hawaiian Islands. If you don’t have a fluted square cutter, use whatever other shape you have on hand. To toast macadamias, place them in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet in a 350°F oven until lightly golden, about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.