Citrus

This dish was inspired by a trip to Tunisia a few years ago. I fell in love with the Tunisian cooks’ use of spices and the bowls of harissa served with every meal. What surprised me most was the use of caraway, which I had always thought of as an Eastern European spice. For this Tunisian-flavored stew, I season the lamb shoulder overnight with caraway, coriander, chiles, cayenne, and paprika, and then braise it in an aromatic broth with cinnamon and allspice. For a traditional braise I usually deglaze with wine, but in keeping with Muslim prohibitions common in Tunisia, I refrain and substitute lemon juice, which also adds a bright, acidic note to the stew.

Although they might sound like an odd combination, hot crispy squid and spicy chorizo tossed together with spinach, cilantro, and olives make an irresistible warm salad. This salad is a salute to the Portuguese and the Spanish, who have been cooking seafood and meat together for centuries, long before the term “surf and turf” was coined.

At Lucques, we search out the heirloom varieties of corn, available all summer long from our local farmers’ markets. This soup is spiced with jalapeño and cilantro and topped with avocado cream and lime. The key to its silky texture is blending it long enough at high speed and adding enough liquid to achieve the consistency of heavy cream. Although customers swear this rich soup must have cream in it, the only cream you’ll find is in the topping that garnishes the soup: a delicious purée of avocado, crème fraîche, and lime juice.

This refreshing chilled purée wakes up your palate with a jolt of sweet pepper essence, cooling yogurt, and the ubiquitous Middle Eastern spice sumac. Sumac is made from the dried berries of a sumac tree, and in the Middle East it’s sprinkled over everything from kabobs to yogurt to rice. The dark-crimson powder lends an acidic, lemony flavor to this soup.

This recipe is a way to show off the best summer fruit you can find. If possible, use an assortment of fruits, such as plums, peaches, figs, and berries, but make sure that all the fruit is up to snuff. Rather than striving for variety and ending up with less-than-ideal examples of each fruit, you’re better off with a simpler salad composed of only the most perfect nectarines or gorgeous peaches all alone. The dressing is made by pounding some of the fruit into a juicy vinaigrette. Figs are my favorite for this purpose. They mellow the vinegar and give the dressing body and chunkiness. If you’ve never had a Marcona almond, you may not forgive me for introducing you to them. Rich and dense, this Spanish almond variety is outrageously addictive. If you can’t find Marcona almonds, use toasted regular almonds or pecans.

This Irish condiment, sold in jars under the name Patum Peperium, was created in 1828 and is still made by only one company, from a secret blend of anchovy, butter, herbs, and spices. The story goes that the man who created it presumed that ladies’ taste buds were too delicate for this hearty anchovy spread. As my version demonstrates, I disagree.

One of my favorite dinners growing up was my mother’s veal piccata. Her recipe came from an old cookbook called The Pleasures of Italian Cooking, by Romeo Salta, a gift to her from my father. My father had been a devoted fan of Romeo Salta when he was the chef at Chianti in Los Angeles in the fifties. Back then, it was a swinging Italian joint with red-checkered tablecloths, opera 78s blasting, and red wine flowing into the late hours. My mother’s (and Romeo’s) veal was pounded thin, sautéed, and drenched in a lemony caper-butter sauce. There’s nothing wrong with that classic rendition, but, to add another layer of flavor, I brown the butter and finish it with salsa verde, a pungent purée of capers, anchovies, garlic, oregano, and tons of parsley. To get the finest, crispy crust on the veal, I dredge it in Wondra, a finely milled flour sold at most supermarkets. This dish is home-style Italian comfort food at its best.

Inspired by main-course salads found in the bistros of France, this dish comprises some of my favorite ingredients—beets, mustard, dandelion, and soft boiled egg. The salmon is covered in minced herbs, seasoned with fleur de sel, and then slow-roasted in a humid oven until it’s moist and custardlike at the center.

This not-too-sweet tart is the perfect ending to a spring meal. The key to keeping the pastry nice and crisp is to bake it ahead and then scoop out some of the center, to make room for the filling. Don’t overmix the ricotta filling or you’ll smooth away those luscious natural curds in the cheese. At Lucques, we add dried blueberries to the fresh blueberry compote, giving it an unexpected chewiness.

The first incarnation of this dish did not include rice. Tasting it over and over again, I knew it needed a final element that would bring its flavors into harmony: nutty farro, meaty bass, pungent green garlic, sweet pea shoots, tart tangerines. I racked my brain for just the right thing, then remembered a sample of black rice I had stashed in my desk drawer weeks before. I had little experience with black rice—varieties of rice whose kernels are covered by extremely dark bran. The black rice I found was grown in the salt marshes of the Veneto, so I cooked it in an Italian style. As I would for risotto, I sautéed the rice in olive oil to seal the outer layer and toast it slightly. Then I deglazed with white wine, added water, and let it simmer away. When the rice was done, I found it solved my problem perfectly. The rice’s marshy origins gave it a subtle oceany taste, complementing the fresh fish and giving the entire dish a springtime-by-the sea coherence. What’s more, there was a visual bonus: the black rice was gorgeous to behold, coated in its own deep purple sauce.

Certain foods taste better when you eat them with your hands, like barbecued ribs and corn on the cob. This salad is the perfect way to indulge that primal urge. Use the endive leaves as scoops to gather up some olive shards, a fava bean or two, and a slice of lemon. The crisp spears explode with flavor, and before you’ve finished the first your hand will be reaching for another. Hand out forks if you must, and make sure to tell your friends that the Meyer lemon slices are for eating. They’re sweet and delicious, peel and all. Slice the olives thinly, so their intense taste doesn’t overwhelm the other ingredients. As for the dressing, gently stir (don’t whisk) in the cream to incorporate it without whipping it.

Our wild strawberry cordial is actually somewhere between a fruit purée and a syrup. The idea was to create a high-octane strawberry flavor to blend in a French 75 cocktail (page 69). Much of the flavor comes from the wild strawberries we have imported frozen from France—they are tiny in size but big in flavor and vary from light yellow to deep red. You can use regular fresh strawberries, but make absolutely certain that they are ripe and fragrant.

Who will have the last word? Well, obviously, the bartender! We always have the last word, because we have the goodies—the booze. So when an experienced bartender says something to you, listen, because it may well be a recommendation for this tasty cocktail. The Last Word is a mishmash of high-octane fuels, yet it comes out surprisingly balanced and delicate. Beware: have too many and this cocktail will have the last word. Allegedly this Prohibition-era cocktail’s origins are traced back to the Detroit Athletic Club, where it was invented by a gentleman named Frank Fogarty. He was said to be “a very fine monologue artist,” which is probably how the drink got its name. One thing is certain: this cocktail is now in the top five of cocktail geekdom, appearing in bars all over the country. Made properly, it is truly a wonderful concoction.

According to cocktail historians, this cocktail first appeared in print in 1895 in Modern American Drinks by George J. Kappeler. Although this drink has fallen into obscurity today, it appeared in every respectable cocktail book printed in the early twentieth century, with the same easy recipe. It seems this drink always had the favor of knowledgeable bartenders and connoisseurs, as its unique blend of flavors could be very challenging to the untrained palate of the casual drinker. In other words, this drink is best recommended for people who have moved beyond simple straightforward flavors and are looking for a carnival in the mouth. The Widow’s Kiss is a seasonal experience best enjoyed when it is cold outside. This classic cocktail is also one of the few cocktails we recommend as a digestive or an after-dinner cocktail.

This punch is simple, easy, and highly refreshing. It was born out of necessity when we opened for brunch and had to serve tons of our West Side cocktails to the girls brunching in our garden. The solution was simple and a win-win for us and the guests. We love to recommend this punch in the summertime; its flavors and crispness will freshen up the nastiest hangover. Perfect for weddings, bar mitzvahs, bridal and baby showers, and all those cute get-togethers people have.

The Yellow Jacket cocktail was inspired by chance circumstances and a little harassment. For weeks, we had toyed with the idea of mixing together Partida Reposado tequila and St-Germain elderflower liqueur, but there was a piece of the puzzle missing. Then one evening, a bunch of obnoxious cocktail geeks came into Employees Only to stump the bartenders by ordering the Last Word cocktail. After being satisfied with that drink, they asked if we knew of another drink with Chartreuse. At that moment, Yellow Chartreuse became the ingredient needed to bind together the elderflower and tequila. So pretty and elegant, the rich yellow color grabs your attention. The true beauty of this drink, though, is the interplay of the ingredients. The light oak on the Partida Reposado tequila works so well with the St-Germain, and they in turn produce a perfect ground for Yellow Chartreuse to bring it all into balance. The orange bitters play a key role. This cocktail is similar in style to the Widow’s Kiss cocktail (page 141), as they both contain very sweet herbaceous ingredients balanced by high alcohol content. It’s named for the yellow jacket wasps that inhabit agave farms and tequila distilleries.

This cocktail is an Employees Only variation of the famous South Side cocktail (page 130), first served in the 1920s at the New York speakeasy Jack & Charlie’s—now known as the 21 Club. We replaced the gin with Meyer lemon–infused vodka to achieve a more balanced, subtler concoction. God only knows how many West Sides we have pushed over the bar in the last five years. It is by far the most popular cocktail served at Employees Only and lends itself naturally to being enjoyed in the sun. Why is this cocktail so popular? Even if we ignore the fact that it is a vodka cocktail and the fact that we are witnessing the end of the reign of vodka, the simplicity of a cocktail with just lemon and mint flavors makes it addictive and refreshing. It will definitely be a favorite at any cocktail party, served over ice or in pitchers.

Ah, Waterloo—the monarch of Employees Only long drinks. Seasonal to the core and perfect from mid-June until early September when watermelons are in their prime. This cocktail combines fresh, ripe watermelon; gin; and Campari in a taste explosion. The most important ingredient is the watermelon, as the flavor directly corresponds to the sweetness of the cocktail. Therefore we advise you to use organic watermelon with seeds rather than the genetically engineered seedless varietals. The seeds also provide a nice visual touch when the cocktail is served. This cocktail is also a great exercise in mixing and building flavors. You start with fresh fruit, add sugar to open up the natural flavors, then add sour to balance it out. Altogether, this mixture creates a pumped-up watermelon bomb with the body to stand up to even gin. The gin and Campari bring out the savoriness of the melon to make this cocktail a modern classic.

This is a cocktail that was composed by one of our bartenders, former U.S. Marine Steve Schneider. According to him, he got tired of mixing White Ladies and wanted something more exciting and powerful to offer as a gin cocktail. When asked to describe his intention, he simply said: “Alongside a beautiful lady should be a handsome man in a tux. By replacing Cointreau with a touch of simple syrup and orange bitters, you are getting an easy, yet stunning White Lady variation, which is more appealing to the modern palate.”