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On a hot summer evening, nothing refreshes like a basket of chilled oroshi soba

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By Leslie Brenner

There’s an unforgettable flavor and a soothing, cooling ritual I inevitably crave when temperatures soar: oroshi soba. That’s the name for the traditional Japanese dish of cold buckwheat noodles served with grated daikon and tsuyu, a savory chilled dipping sauce. Often served on a basket or a mat, it’s a humble dish, but it’s one of my favorites in the world.

Here’s how the ritual goes. You drop the grated daikon into the tsuyu; it sort of dissolves into it like a snowball. (“Oroshi” means grated vegetable.) You can also stir in some sliced scallions and a little wasabi, if you like. Pick up some noodles with your chopsticks, dip them into the sauce, lift to your mouth and revel in the moment: The nutty, earthy noodles, the sauce’s direct umami and the snappy, uplifting bite of the daikon all combine into an incredibly resonant flavor-chord, made all the more fabulous because it’s so refreshingly cold and wet.

It’s that unmistakable flavor-chord that plays in my memory summer after summer — a taste-memory loop that’s lasted now for decades.

I first happened upon oroshi soba 21 years ago. I had just moved back to Los Angeles from New York, and the L.A. Times’ Food editor at the time, Russ Parsons, invited me to lunch at a modest family-style Japanese diner in Little Tokyo, just a couple blocks from the Times’ historic headquarters. Those cold noodles and their flavor chord did a number on me, and I was hooked. When I joined the paper two years later, the diner — Suehiro (it’s still there!) — became a favorite. I always ordered the same thing: Not the plain and also traditional zaru soba, served without daikon, but the oroshi soba. For me, the chord’s high daikon note is essential.

Two recommended brands of dried soba: Kajino Kokusan Soba (left) and Shirakiku Japanese Style Buckwheat Noodle. Dried soba often comes bundled in 100-gram portions.

A few years later, Russ and I had another soba lunch, this time with me as Food editor and Russ as our California Cook columnist. It took place just south of L.A., in Gardena, at a tiny, under-the-radar spot called Otafuku. There the chef-owner, Seiji Akutsu, made incredible soba by hand — a rarity at the time, even in Southern California with its deep Japanese culinary culture. I can’t remember if Russ had been there before that, but he wound up writing about Otafuku (which is still open a quarter-century after it debuted). Russ’ piece, “Art of the Noodle,” is probably the best thing I’ve ever read about soba.

Weirdly, oroshi soba played a key part in my decision to move to Dallas, Texas some years later: Communing with a zaruful of exquisite handmade soba at Tei-An, an extraordinary Japanese restaurant that had just opened the previous year, I could suddenly see myself living there. (To this day, Tei-An one of my favorite restaurants — not just in Dallas, but anywhere.)

Still. A person can’t eat at Tei-An whenever she wants, and so there are times I’d like to enjoy an icy plate of oroshi soba at home.

Recently I started looking into how to make that delicious tsuyu, the dipping sauce. If I could do that and find a decent dried noodle, the rest would be a breeze.

Dashi, shown with its two components besides water: kombu (top left) and bonito flakes. The resulting stock is a key ingredient in tsuyu.

A recipe in Shizuo Tsuji’s seminal 1980 book Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art solved the tsuyu part of the puzzle lickety-split: One taste, and I knew it was exactly right. Make a batch, and you’ll have a goldmine in your fridge: It keeps for several months, and the recipe yields enough to keep you in cold noodles longer than a Texas heat wave. Whenever the oroshi soba craving bites you, you can have it on the table in the time it takes to boil the noodles and grate the daikon.

READ: Katsuobushi (bonito flakes) will put a spring in your step and umami on your plate

Preparing the sauce might seem a little daunting, as it involves first making dashi — Japan’s essential stock. But it’s totally worth it: Dashi is quickly made and you can freeze what you don’t use in the tsuyu, which means you can later make scratch miso soup at a moment’s notice. Once you have the dashi, the tsuyu is quick to come together as well: Just add soy sauce, mirin and a touch of sugar over the heat, then drop in a flurry of bonito flakes. Wait 10 seconds, strain, let cool and it’s ready. You can put together both in the span of 30 minutes.

The dried noodle part is a little tricky, as those made from 100% buckwheat can be a bit sawdust-like. The best dried noodles combine buckwheat flour and wheat flour, with a high enough proportion of buckwheat for great flavor, but enough wheat flour so the texture’s right.

I asked Teiichi Sakurai, Tei-An’s chef, owner and soba master, if there’s a one he finds tolerable. He recommended Kajino Kokusan, which I found at the best Japanese supermarket in our area, Mitsuwa Marketplace. I also looked there for the brands recommended by Mutsuko Soma in a taste-test story published in Food & Wine magazine in 2019. (Soma is chef at Seattle’s renowned soba restaurant, Kamonegi.) I didn’t find those exactly, but did find a dried soba from Shirakiku — one of the brands she recommended. (The specific noodle is Shirakiku Japanese Style Buckwheat Noodle.) Both it and the Kajino Kokusan are very good. Even better, with a lovely, springy texture and deeper flavor, was a fresh noodle I also found at Mitsuwa — Izumo Soba Noodles from Soba Honda.

If you find yourself staring down an assortment of unfamiliar dried soba, I’d suggest choosing one imported from Japan that lists both buckwheat flour and wheat flour in the ingredients, with buckwheat listed first, and no other ingredients besides salt.

OK. You should have what you need. If you want to turn your soba moment into dinner, you don’t need to add much — I like to start with something vinegary, like a simple sunomono salad. Or pick up some tsukemono at that same Japanese grocery — shibazuke, the purple one made with eggplant and shiso, would be dreamy.

And then enjoy that cool, slurpy, umamiful tangle of buckwheaty goodness.

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The 15 best things we *didn't* cook in August

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Tomato Burrata Salad: no heat required!

By Leslie Brenner

We’ve done a lot of not-cooking this insanely hot month — and loved it! Opening a tin of sardines, squeezing a lemon, arranging greens, slicing height-of-the-season tomatoes: That’s the kind of low-stress prep it takes to make something delightful without going near the stove.

Especially this time of year, when there’s so much great produce. That’s right — we’re talking about dishes you can accomplish without so much as coddling an egg or toasting bread.

Put a few of them together — add a bottle of rosé or orange wine, if you’re so inclined — and you’ve got a royal spread.

1. Mikie’s Marinated Olives

Whether you scoop up your favorite selections from the olive bar, or just open a jar of Castelvetranos, this easy toss with fresh herbs, citrus and garlic is welcome at any gathering.

Every French home cook has this tangy raw carrot salad in their bag of delicious tricks.

RECIPE: Carottes Rapées

3. Amá’s Guacamole

Every guac is great this time of year — from a traditional one to a Thai-inspired renegade. The celery-happy version in Josef Centeno’s wonderful Amá cookbook is lovely, light, and particularly summery.

RECIPE: Amá’s Guacamole

4. Leela Punyaratabandhu’s Green Papaya Salad

The combination of lime juice, fish sauce and peanuts makes Southeast Asian green papaya salad highly craveable during summer. Leela Punyaratabandu’s excellent version from Simple Thai Food gets the balance just right.

Cool and satisfying, with some richness from raw almonds or cashews and tang from sherry vinegar, this chilled soup is one of our favorites ever. It’s vegan — and unlike traditional bread-thickened Gazpacho Sevillano, it’s gluten-free.

RECIPE: The Greenest Gazpacho

6. Cucumber, Radish and Feta Salad

A touch of orange-blossom water makes this minty little number transportingly good.

RECIPE: Cucumber, Radish and Feta Salad

7. Marinated Goat Cheese

Keep a log of organic goat cheese in the fridge (unopened, it keeps for ages) as an insurance policy for when you need this quick app on the fly. (Follow the “skip the heating” suggestion in the recipe.)

RECIPE: Marinated Goat Cheese

8. Fuchsia Dunlop’s Spicy Sichuan Chicken Salad

This jazzy, sesame-fragrant cold chicken salad is one of our favorite dishes from one of our favorite cookbooks, Fuchsia Dunlop’s Every Grain of Rice. It’s a great use for store-bought roast chicken.

I usually have everything on hand to make this delicious toss of an Italian-inspired salad: a can each of tuna and cannellini beans, a red onion, some parsley and celery. A squeeze of lemon or drizzle of vinegar adds lift and bounce.

RECIPE: Tuna and Cannellini Bean Salad

10. Sabzi Khordan (Persian Herb Platter)

The platter of herbs that accompanies just about every Persian meal can make a fabulous meal on its own — especially when it includes good feta and walnuts and it’s served with a nice flatbread.

RECIPE: Sabzi Khordan (Persian Herb Platter)

11. Tomato and Burrata Salad

This is the moment for the classic salad, as tomatoes are bursting with flavor. Use mozzarella or ricotta if you can’t find burrata.

RECIPE: Tomato and Burrata Salad

12. A16’s Raw Zucchini Salad with Green Olives, Mint and Pecorino

Mint, green olives and salty Italian cheese come together harmoniously in this unusual and pretty fabulous raw zucchini salad. It’s adapted from Nate Appleman and Shelly Lindgren’s A16 Food & Wine cookbook, inspired by their San Francisco pizza place.

RECIPE: A16’s Raw Zucchini Salad

13. Smoked Trout ‘Rillettes’

Make this once or twice — after that, you’ll be able to whip it up with your eyes closed. It’s so delicious, we make it every couple of weeks, all year long.

The Levant region’s minty, sumac-y green salad has crispy pita; our bread-less one may infuriate purists, but we think it’s pretty swell — and gluten-free.

RECIPE: Fattoush-ish

15. Gazpacho Sevillano

Help yourself to our award-winning version of the world’s most famous cold soup!

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Easy-to-make homemade mayo unlocks a world of French bistro and American classics (mind-blowing BLT, anyone?)

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By Leslie Brenner

In director Eric Bésnard’s film “Delicious,” released in the U.S. earlier this year (it’s “Délicieux” in French), a pivotal plot point revolves around mayonnaise.

The chef-protagonist, Pierre Manceron, pays a late-night visit to his ex-boss, the Duc du Chamfort, who had fired him months before because one of his courtiers objected to a dish. Chef Manceron finds the duke sitting miserably in his kitchen, not-enjoying a midnight snack of langoustines. “This is what I’m reduced to,” the duke says in subtitled French, joylessly spearing a langoustine. “I ingurgitate, but without enjoyment.” (OK, I would have translated that differently.)

“Good cooks are rare, Manceron,” the duke continues. “Your successor was a sauce spoiler. And the one that came after him could barely make a mayonnaise.” He looks away, wistful. “How the little things can evoke the greatest memories. Look at that,” he says, nodding toward his sad snack. “It’s hopeless. No balance, no invention, no harmony. Nothing.”

“May I?” says Manceron, reaching for a small bowl of oil. “This’ll take but a minute.” Into another bowl, he cracks an egg, pours in some oil and starts whisking with a small broom-like whisk. In two seconds, he has a beautiful mayonnaise — miraculously garnished with sliced chives.

The duke sticks his finger into the mayo, tastes. Closes his eyes, blissed-out. “And so you came to torture me?”

I won’t tell you where it all leads (and yes, it’s worth watching!), but the point is clear: There’s nothing like a great homemade mayo. And here’s the best part: It’s way easier to make than you might think. OK, maybe not quite as effortlessly as Manceron makes it happen. But easy enough that if you love it as much as I do, you might find yourself making it every week or two.

Homemade mayonnaise makes so many things so much better. A height-of-tomato-season BLT. A next-level tuna salad sandwich, using the best tuna packed in oil. Deviled eggs. Egg salad.

Or depart from American classics and try some French favorites, like Céleri Rémoulade — the salad of julienned celery root that’s a bistro classic.

Céleri Rémoulade — one of homemade mayo’s best party tricks

Or Macédoine de Légumes — a simple, parti-colored salad of diced and blanched carrots, haricots verts and turnips, plus peas, cloaked lusciously in good mayo.

Use your delicious homemade mayo straight-up for dipping leaves of boiled artichoke or dolloping onto poached shrimp, or whisk into it a bit of crème fraîche, paprika and sherry vinegar, and call it the best sauce ever invented for chilled asparagus.

Macédoine de Légumes - glamourous cafeteria food!

But wait — how do we achieve this?

J. Kenji López-Alt, of Serious Eats fame (now with The New York Times) has an ingenious method for making mayonnaise. A hand-blender creates a vortex that does all the work for you. Pour canola oil over a layer of egg yolk combined with lemon juice, mustard and water, submerge the immersion blender, turn it on, slowly pull it up through the ingredients and voilà: mayonnaise in an instant.

That’s even easier than Chef Manceron’s movie magic. However, there’s a little more to do if you want the result to be not just mayo, but delicious mayo. For that, you need olive oil for flavor. Unfortunately, you can’t include the olive oil in that blender jar; olive oil has a different molecular structure than canola oil does, and the vortex trick doesn’t reliably work with it. (Occasionally it does; often it “breaks” — that awful thing that happens when your beautifully thick mayo falls apart into what looks like a vinaigrette.) That’s why, after the super-easy hand-blender trick, López-Alt has you whisk in a lot of olive oil by hand. It’s not the end of the world, but it does take some muscle to whisk in a full cup.

I wanted to make the process a bit easier, and I also prefer mayo that’s richer than López-Alt’s. While I do like the 50-50 olive oil-to-flavorless-oil ratio he uses, I favor a mayonnaise with a higher ratio of egg yolk to oil. For that, I turned back to a chef from mayo’s birthplace.

Mayonnaise the French way

In late 2020, renowned Paris chef Jean-François Piège published a monumental book that ambitiously and impressively aimed to codify the canon of contemporary French cooking: Le Grand Livre de La Cuisine Française: Recettes Bourgeoises & Populaires. I got my hands on a copy last year when I was in Bordeaux and schlepped the 8.2 pound, 1,086 page tome back in my carry-on (yep, shoulda checked it — its weight nearly made me miss my tight connection at Charles De Gaulle!).

It was worth it — I’ve referred to it a ton. Including Piège’s recipe for Mayonnaise — in which he uses 8 egg yolks for a liter of oil, which is about 2 yolks per cup of oil — a ratio that tastes just right to me. He also uses a full 5 teaspoons of Dijon mustard per cup of mayo, and red wine vinegar rather than lemon juice. (The mammoth cookbook, in case you’re wondering, has yet to be translated into English.)

Taking that page from Piège, our Mayonnaise recipe offers more depth of flavor than López-Alt’s, while requiring 25 percent less hand-whisking. It’s as delicious as Piège's, and more easily achieved than López-Alt’s.

RECIPE: Our Favorite Mayonnaise (Immersion Blender Method)

Go make a batch — you won’t be sorry. Covered in the fridge, it keeps for two weeks — though with all its delectable applications, yours might not stretch that long.

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Two cookbooks we've loved are finalists for IACP Awards (and so is Cooks Without Borders!)

By Leslie Brenner

We’ve got a serious thing for cookbooks at Cooks Without Borders — and we work hard to feature standout titles celebrating cuisines from around the world in our Cookbooks We Love column. The featured titles aren’t just cookbooks that look great; they’re those that help us gain a deeper understanding of the cultures they cover — and that are filled with appealing recipes that yield excellent results.

We’re thrilled that two of our favorite titles from last year have been chosen as finalists in the prestigious International Association of Culinary Professionals (IACP) Cookbook Awards.

“Treasures of the Mexican Table”

It’s easy to see why Pati Jinich’s Treasures of the Mexican Table resonated with both CWB and the IACP judges: It takes a deep dive into cooking from all around Mexico. Like a latter-day Diana Kennedy, author Jinich traveled widely and deeply for the book, turning up outstanding, delicious, sometimes classic and often less well known dishes in people’s homes, in restaurants, in markets and on the street. Treasures is a finalist in the International category.

READ: “Cookbooks We Love: In ‘Treasures of the Mexican Table,’ Pati Jinich shares recipes soaked in local character”

Vuelve a la Vida, prepared from a recipe in ‘Treasures of the Mexican Table’ by Pati Jinich

“Mother Grains”

Roxana Jullapat — the renowned Los Angeles baker, co-owner of Friends & Family and author of Mother Grains — has a special place in our heart. First because we’re white-flour averse, and big believers in the grain revolution, which aims to use healthful ancient grains in baking as much as possible. Second because she is a true cook without borders — born to immigrant parents (one from Thailand, the other from Puerto Rico), and she grew up in Puerto Rico.

Her recipes are as fabulous as her bakery, and we were thrilled to have her join us as an honored speaker at one of our Makers, Shakers & Mavens video events: The Grain Revolution with Roxana Jullapat and David Kaisel.

Mother Grains is a finalist in the Baking Sweet & Savory, Confections and Desserts category.

Macadamia Nut Brown Butter Blondies from ‘Mother Grains’ by Roxana Jullapat

READ: Roxana Jullapat’s ‘Mother Grains’ has all the makings of a new classic

Jullapat and Jinich are in excellent company among the many authors, photographers and others honored as finalists in the wide-ranging Cookbook Awards categories. IACP also named finalists in its Food Photography and Styling Awards, Food Writing Awards and Digital Media Awards. Find all the finalists here.

Congratulations to Jullapat, Jinich, their editors, publishers and collaborators for the recognition. Do treat yourself to a copy of their books; you’ll find links to purchase them within the reviews, linked above. Or test-drive a recipe or two first (you’ll also find those in the reviews) and then decide.

Digital Media nod for Cooks Without Borders

Finally, we are honored that Cooks Without Borders has been named a finalist in IACP’s Digital Media Awards. Our co-finalists, in the Individual Food Blog Category, are Moon Rice, from Shri Repp and Unpeeled Journal, from Lisa Ruland. (We highly recommend both!) Kudos and best of luck to all.

The winners in each category will be announced at a ceremony this fall, at a place and date still to be determined.

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Cookbooks We Love: Hooni Kim's 'My Korea' is a knockout of a Korean cooking primer

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By Leslie Brenner

My Korea: Traditional Flavors, Modern Recipes, by Hooni Kim with Aki Kamozawa; photographs by Kristin Teig; 2020, W. W. Norton & Company, $40.

A serious craving for Korean flavors — that’s what bit me on the flight home from a recent trip to France. Tangy-spicy, hot, cold and pickly, packed with umami, sometimes a little sweet. I needed those flavors in my life, and fast.

Immediately I thought of My Korea. The highly regarded chef Hooni Kim published the cookbook two years ago; it’s the first book I reached for when I landed. Covid time-warp is my official excuse for taking so long to get to it.

Backgrounder

Kim, who was born in South Korea, is chef and owner of Danji in New York City; he opened the tiny place (named for the small clay jars that hold traditional foods for daily use in Korea) in 2010. A year later, it became the first Korean restaurant anywhere to earn a Michelin star. He opened a second restaurant, Hanjan, the following year, and recently Meju, a fermentation studio. He’s now preparing to open Little Banchan Shop, featuring Korea’s beloved small plates.

Raised in London and the U.S., Kim took a hiatus halfway through medical school to study at the French Culinary Institute in New York (now the International Culinary Center), did a couple of stages, graduated from FCI and then interned at Daniel, which he considered to be “the best restaurant in New York City.” He thought he’d return to med school, but when Daniel Boulud’s legendary French restaurant offered him a permanent position, he bit. After that, desiring to learn to cook the food of his own culture at a lofty level, he sought a respected Korean chef to train with at an excellent Korean restaurant, couldn’t find one in the U.S., and so went to work at the closest thing he could find: Masa, the superlative Japanese restaurant from chef Masa Takayama. Kim made an impression on Masa’s famous chef-owner with the Korean dishes he prepared for family (staff) meals. Several of them are included in My Korea — which Kim reportedly worked on for eight years.

Kim sums up his own cooking like this:

“My food is what you might get from a Korean grandmother if she went to culinary school, interned at high-end Michelin restaurants, and settled in New York City (and perhaps had an addition to White Castle sliders).”

Why we love ‘My Korea’

It’s a rare chef cookbook that’s filled with recipes that are approachable and practical enough for home cooks, and My Korea is all that and then some. Especially if you’re new (or newish) to Korean cooking, I’d recommend starting at the beginning and reading the whole intro. Kim’s taste-memories of visiting his relatives in South Korea when he was a small child speak volumes about the heart and soul of Korean food; reading about them is a gorgeous immersive education in itself.

Don’t be tempted to skip “The Korean Pantry” chapter. It’s filled with immensely useful information, including what brands of ganjang (Korean soy sauce), sesame oil and dangmyeon (sweet potato noodles) to look for, how to shop for gochugaru (Korean red chile flakes) or rice cakes, and what a difference a great doenjang (fermented soybean paste) or gochujang (fermented red chile paste) makes. Kim offers an invaluable paragraph about cleaning, long-rinsing and slicing scallions — and then squeezing them dry in a kitchen towel and letting them air-dry 10 minutes. That way you can store them, covered, in the fridge, and they’ll be “fluffy and light” when you’re ready to use them.

The book’s 90 recipes are extremely well chosen — so many scream “cook me, cook me!" — and the seven I tested worked beautifully. The authors hold your hand more than is usual in cookbooks; it’s probably not a great leap of faith to guess that co-author Aki Kamozawa has more than a little to do with their general excellence.

So, where to start?

Marinated Spicy Cucumbers, or Oee Muchim, hits the spot for that tangy, spicy, cold and pickly wish. Easy to make, it’s Kim’s “favorite summer muchim” — muchim are quick-pickled vegetable dishes that can be served as banchan. As Kim explains it, “Muchim are more convenient than kimchi because you do not have to wait for them to ferment — they can be eaten the same day they are prepared.” Nevertheless, some have similar flavor profiles to kimchi — that spicy, salty, sour thing.

You’ve gotta try this

Dangmyeon — stretchy, clear noodles made from sweet potato starch — are the stars of japchae, a beloved traditional dish. Those noodles are dressed with a salty and lightly sweet sauce kissed with sesame oil, and lots of julienned vegetables, including red and green bell peppers, fresh shiitake mushrooms, plus spinach.

Kim says it’s best served warm — and it is — but I’m here to tell you I ate the leftovers cold the next days, and it was nearly as fabulous. It’s a dish I could probably eat once a week for the rest of my life, and I’d die happy. Oh, and it’s vegan if you use the water option instead of dashi, or use dashi made with kombu and shiitakes. Swap gluten-free tamari for soy sauce and it’s gluten-free.

Bar food extraordinaire

“Kimchi and pork are the ultimate classic combination in Korean cuisine,” writes Kim in the headnote to his recipe for Warm Tofu with Kimchi and Pork Belly Stir-Fry. The stir-fry part — dubu kimchi — is the classic anju (a dish to eat with soju), served at pojang machas in Korea. Pojang machas are street-side tent restaurants that are open only at nighttime, “where locals go to drink close to home or work while munching on anju.” Traditionally dubu kimchi is served with rice; Kim loves it with tofu.

RECIPE: Hooni Kim’s Dubu Kimchi

Still wanna make . . .

A gazillion things, starting with Napa Cabbage Kimchi. After that, I’ll just rattle ‘em off: Soy-Marinated Perilla Leaves; Simmered Fish Cakes; Spicy Garlic Chives; Spicy Brussels Sprouts; Soy-Marinated BBQ Beef Short Ribs (Yangnyeom Galbi); Braised Beef Short Ribs (Galbi Jjim); Rice Cake Soup; Marinated Rice with Sashimi Salad.

I did try Spicy Bean Sprouts and Steamed Egg Custard with Shrimp (both very good), and Soy-Poached Black Cod with Daikon. That last dish, which Kim describes as a favorite at family meal at Masa, worked gorgeously, but it’s too sweet for my taste (there’s three-quarters of a cup of sugar in the sauce for a dish that serves four). I’ll make it again and decrease the sugar.

Oh, I also made a cocktail — one Kim calls “Makgeolli Made Easy.” Makgeolli is the name for the lightly sweet rice beer that’s popular in Korea; you can find it easily at Korean supermarkets such as H Mart. The drink, which blends makgeolli with gin, cucumber purée, ginger syrup and lime juice, is absolutely delicious.

RECIPE: Makgeolli Made Easy

Obviously this book is a keeper — it’s one of the best primers among the hundreds of volumes on my shelves.

Diana Kennedy, the ‘Queen of Mexican Regional Cooking,' has died at age 99; she'll live on in her marvelous cookbooks

By Leslie Brenner

Diana Kennedy — the trailblazing cookbook author who devoted her career to studying and understanding the wonders of regional Mexican cooking, and sharing what she learned with the English-speaking world — died today at her home in Michoacán, Mexico. She was 99 years old.

We honored Kennedy last year in a story we published on International Women’s Day, as part of a series about stellar female cookbook authors.

READ: “Take a moment to honor 98-year-old Diana Kennedy, the ‘Queen of Mexican Regional Cooking.’ “

The contributions Kennedy made to the appreciation and understanding of Mexican cooking in the United States are immense and profound — and she reportedly continued working until the end. Her work touched me personally and deeply, as I wrote in last year’s appreciation.

Here are a few recipes inspired by techniques described in Diana Kennedy’s books, or loosely adapted from her recipes:

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Dinner on ice: 5 cold dishes that refresh and delight

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A selection of oysters waiting to be shucked at Glidden Point Oyster Farm in Edgecomb, Maine

By Leslie Brenner

The hotter it gets, the colder I want to eat. Last night I returned from a work trip to Maine, a paradise cool and green with no shortage of pellet ice or spectacular oysters. Today, we’re in triple digits where I live, in Dallas. Yep, 107. I just want to put everything on ice.

Is it hot where you are? If so, let’s do this. I’ll give you 5 summer recipes that are great eaten cold, and you supply the ice.

Shrimp Goi Cuon (Vietnamese Summer Rolls)

These traditional Vietnamese summer rolls with stretchy rice-paper wrappers are meant to be a starter, but they’re so good, I like to make a whole meal of them.

Ice Opp: Make a platter of goi cuon and set it atop a larger rimmed platter filled with ice. Refreshing! (Note to self: develop a recipe for Che Ba Mau — the three-color Vietnamese ice dessert. Would be the perfect frozen exclamation point to the summer rolls.)

Cold Beet Borscht

When I was growing up in Southern California’s San Fernando Valley, where summer temps frequently topped 100, my mom steadfastly refused to put air conditioning in our house; she didn’t believe in it. We did have a pool, and to keep cool, we’d go in wearing oversized tee-shirts and then sit in the shade of our big rubber tree playing cards dripping wet and drinking iced tea.

Come dinnertime, my mom would set out what she called “cold summer din.” Usually that meant a bowl of cold borscht, followed by a plate of salmon salad (flaked canned salmon, diced red onion and celery, lemon juice), quartered tomatoes and egg noodles mixed with cottage cheese. The latter wasn’t cold; go figure.

But truth be told, today when I eat this borscht — my mom’s recipe, accompanied by a bowl of diced radishes, cukes and scallions, plus sour cream and optional boiled potato — I inevitably want a second bowl, and that’s enough dinner for me.

Ice Opp: Throw a couple of big cubes right in the bowl. Colder the better!

Classic Tabbouleh

The famous parsley salad of the Levant makes a simple yet delicious summer dinner on its own, especially when scooped up with tender, young romaine leaves. Cast a couple of co-stars next to it, maybe Baba Ganoush and/or Hummus (either the Ultimate version or its quick-to-whip-up cheater cousin), and suddenly you’ve got a mezze spread. We won’t ask you to bake your own pita bread for it; not in this heat! Instead, pick up pitas from a Middle-Eastern bakery if you’re lucky enough to have one, or the supermarket if not.

While you’re at it, grab some marinated olives (or marinate some!), plus a tin of sardines and a can of dolmas (arrange on plate, add lemon wedges). Also great with this spread: Cucumber, Radish and Feta salad.

Ice Opp: Pour a glass of arak — Lebanon’s iconic anise aperitif — and add an excessive amount of ice.

Cold and Spicy Noodles

Inspired by Korean flavors, this is a noodle bowl and a salad in one — tossed with a lusciously umami-ful dressing with great body. It’s emphatically cold, and highly customizable: Change up the garnishes as you see fit. Choose Korean somyeon or Japanese somen or soba noodles, and feel free to play fast and loose with the vegetables. Skip the egg and add tofu, or finish it with shredded cold leftover chicken.

Bonus points: Swap the hard-boiled egg for a Japanese marinated ajitama egg (also known as a ramen egg) — the kind with the gelatinous yolk. (Our recipe’s headnote links to a recipe for that.)

Ice Opp: Toss ice cubes in with the noodles when you drain them to get them really cold.

Vuelve a la Vida

In some parts of coastal Mexico, the seafood dish known as vuelve a la vida (or “come back to life”) is served hot. But the kind I love is cold — much like a cross between ceviche and a seafood coctél. The version from Pati Jinich’s 2021 book Treasures of the Mexican Table is wonderful.

Ice Opp: Fill a huge bowl with crushed ice, and sink glasses of Vuelva a la Vida in the ice. Or stir up a few Margaritas on the Rocks!

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Inspired by old Hollywood, this may be the world’s most craveable Caesar

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By Leslie Brenner

An eon ago, when I was in my twenties, I worked in Hollywood as an assistant on “Cheers,” a popular sit-com produced at Paramount Studios. One of the perks was that we could order lunch to eat at our desk (or dinner when we worked late) from any nearby restaurant, and the production company would pick up the tab. There were some really good restaurants to choose from, including a swanky French place called Le St. Germain, and an elegant Italian place, Emilio’s. (There was also a Mexican spot called Lucy’s El Adobe, whose chicken tostada captivated me.)

But there was one lunch I craved constantly, and ordered frequently: the Caesar salad from Nickodell, an old-school Hollywood restaurant that was right next door to the studio. Of course that Caesar was more of an event when you ordered it in the dining room, where it was tossed table-side, but to my desk, it always arrived crisp and chilled and perfect.

Super garlicky, forthright with anchovies, wonderfully tangy and generously endowed with grated Parm, it was absolutely smashing — an extreme Caesar. I’m not sure whether memory is playing a game, but I think they served it to-go on one of those cardboard-like deep-dish paper plates, with another bowl-like paper plate stapled onto the top of it. (This was pre-Uber Eats and GrubHub, of course; we sent our production assistants out to pick up our food.)

I wound up leaving Hollywood for grad school in New York. The sit-com’s decade-plus run ended, Nickodell closed and life went on. But I never stopped craving that salad.

At some point, I started recreating that Caesar at home. I don’t think I was fully conscious that it was the Nickodell umami-garlic-tang I was after, but my personal Caesar aesthetic had been set, on full-throttle.

Now, when I crave that flavor, I make my extreme Caesar. Its dressing includes both red wine vinegar and lemon, and a healthy dose of Worcestershire. Olive oil, of course. Lots of garlic, put through a press, and a meaningful amount of chopped anchovies. Lots of freshly ground black pepper. When I’m in a rush, I’ve been known to use anchovy paste instead of mincing fillets; both always live in my fridge.

Did Nickodell’s Caesar have croutons? Certainly, but they weren’t memorable or important, and croutons slow one’s salad game way down, so I leave them out. Also, I’d rather not have those carbs and extra calories from the oil they soak up. Having erased my carbo footprint, I figure I’ve earned the right to extra Parm — and a couple of eggs coddled to nearly gelatinous.

There is a feeling, among Caesar enthusiasts, that whole-leaf is the way to go. I certainly see the value, but to bend that way would be contrary to the spirit of the Nickodell archetype, so I chop.

Because this Caesar fires on so many cylinders, it loves to be a main course. Is it thanks to those solitary lunches at my desk that I like to eat it alone?

Of course it also loves company. Add a cool glass of rosé (or skin-contact!) wine, and you’ve got an excellent treat for a hot summer evening.

Beware, though: There is the possibility of permanent craving.

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Crunchy, light and fun, heirloom-corn tostadas will set you free this summer

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An heirloom-corn tostada topped with beans, salad, shredded chicken and pico de gallo

By Leslie Brenner

Why doesn’t everyone eat tostadas, all the time? It’s a question that nags me noon and night — especially in summertime, when the idea of something light, healthy and fresh, but also delicious and satisfying (and gluten-free!), is top of mind. Plus they’re infinitely adaptable.

What is a tostada? It’s a crisp corn tortilla topped with something appealing. It could be a cold, inviting ceviche. It might be a fresh salad with a layer of warm beans. Perhaps it’s a thatch of cool shredded lettuce topped with warm tinga de pollo. Or an irresistible spin on avocado toast. Whichever way, the tortilla underneath provides delightful crunchy contrast.

People in Mexico, where tostadas were invented, understand their terrific appeal.

And tostadas have been a thing in Southern California for ages. When I was growing up in Los Angeles, giant salady chicken tostadas layered with beans were found in just about every Mexican restaurant: the perfect lunch. My favorite version, as a young adult working in Hollywood, was conveniently located across the street from Paramount Studios, at a show-biz hangout called Lucy’s El Adobe. But you could find chicken tostadas everywhere.

More fashionable these days in the Golden State — and differently wonderful — are simpler, flatter seafood tostadas topped with things like ceviche or octopus salad. A stall in downtown L.A.’s Grand Central Market called La Tostaderia specializes in them, but they’re also found on mariscos (seafood) trucks and stands all over town.

“Places like that are all over Mexico,” says Olivia Lopez, owner of Molino Olōyō in Dallas, and Cooks Without Borders’ Mexican cuisine expert. Known as marisquerías, they are small spots selling mariscos, often arrayed on tostadas. They are popular in Colima, the coastal state where she’s from, and all along the Pacific coast. And they’re trending. “Marisquerías are expanding all over the country,” says Olivia. “It has become a trend in maybe the last 10 years.”

Bright, light, fresh and tangy, a tostada makes an irresistible lunch or snack. Dress it up a bit, and you can invite it to a special dinner. Or tostada party, which Olivia has done recently at a couple of pop-ups.

Yep — Olivia knows how to dress them up. On Molino Olōyō’s Instagram feed, you’ll find one topped with pickled cabbage, chicken in mole, homemade crema, pickled onions and salsa macha.

I fell head-over-heels in love with her Scallop Ceviche Tostada the minute I laid eyes on it, and even more when I tasted it. It’s a blue-corn tostada spread with avocado purée, topped with a bright and voluptuous scallop ceviche and drizzled with a tangy Scallion Condiment. Salsa macha is spooned around, adding depth, and crunchy toasted peanuts go on top.

It’s cheffy and gorgeous, to be sure, but surprisingly easy to achieve at home. Especially if you happen to keep a jar of Olivia’s outstanding Salsa Macha in the fridge, and you’ve made the tostada bases in advance. The scallop ceviche itself is a snap to make; it takes all of about 10 minutes.

Do try this at home

Before heirloom masa harina changed my life, I never made tostadas at home. But now that it’s remarkably easy to make outstanding corn tortillas that don’t involve GMO corn, I make them all the time. It’s a no-brainer — and no need to fry the tortillas to get the crunch. Just make a batch of tortillas, set them on a rack on a baking sheet and let them dry out and get crisp in a low oven. Alternatively, you can use leftover tortillas — simply dry them in the oven.

Then let your imagination go wild.

As a starting point, you might use avocado on top of the crisped tortilla. Olivia’s scallop ceviche creation uses avocado purée, but you could also smear some guacamole or smashed avocado on there, or dress it up like an avocado toast — pretty slices, a generous squeeze of lime, some fancy salt and a grind of black pepper or smattering of chile flakes. In full-on summer, juicy slices of heirloom tomato are a delightful addition. Cilantro leaves are always welcome.

I love the simple treat, because it really features the fabulous, deep flavor of the heirloom corn tortilla — and it’s also vegan and gluten-free.

You don’t need a recipe for it, but here’s a recipe anyway.

A Mexican home-cooking classic

If you’re a fan of Chicken Tinga (Tinga de Pollo) — an easy stew of poached chicken, tomato, onion, garlic and chipotle chile — you can do as Mexican home cooks do and make second-day Tostadas con Tinga de Pollo with the leftovers. Just spoon some reheated Chicken Tinga over a tostdada piled with shredded lettuce, garnish with crumbled queso fresco, if you like, and maybe a squiggle of crema (Mexican sour cream). Bright-flavored raw salsa verde adds tangy dimension.

Or join me in reliving my youth and construct an addictive Chicken Salad Tostada.

Last summer, I got in the habit of keeping tostadas handy, along with the makings of pico de gallo (tomato, white onion, serrano, cilantro) and avocados, and on the weekend I’d make a pot of frijoles de olla. Using organic roast chicken picked up at the supermarket (don’t tell my kid!), I found myself making these a couple times a week. I also stared keeping cans of organic pinto beans around, in case I needed to have this and didn’t have time to make beans. (Yes, they’re that crave-able!)

This summer (which hasn’t even officially started yet) is shaping up to be a repeat.

When you make them, they look giant. The salad spills over the tortilla. You think, that’s so big — how can I possibly eat that? You can; it’s mostly lettuce. The contrast of its cool freshness with the rich, warm beans is marvelous. The avocado and chicken make it substantial. The pico de gallo makes it superbly juicy and bright.

In other words, buen provecho: I hope you enjoy my favorite lunch!

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How to cook France's favorite dish, something most Americans have never even heard of

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By Leslie Brenner

What is the favorite food of people who live in France — steak frites? Boeuf bourguignon? Quiche? Mais non — it’s magret de canard, a dish most Americans probably have never heard of.

In the last four or five years, magret — duck breast cooked medium-rare like a steak — has risen to the top of the popularity charts and stayed there. In bistros and restaurants from Paris to Nantes, from Bordeaux to Toulouse, and Montpelier to Lyon, and in kitchens of home cooks from the most basic to the foodiest, magret is everywhere.

Though the preparation may be slightly different, it’s usually easy to recognize: deep rosy-pink-to-red slices, each edged with a pad of golden-brown-edged fat. There might be sauce, or perhaps not. It’s sometimes grilled, and often cooked à la poêle (in a pan). If there is a sauce, it is probably not sweet, as it would be in the United States; more likely something like a red wine sauce. (Yes, duck à l’orange exists in France, but it’s not the most usual preparation.) It looks more like red meat than poultry.

The flavor? Superb — rich and lean somehow at the same time, delightfully ducky, and not gamey (at least as long as it’s not overcooked). This is why the French love it: It’s delicious.

As these things go, its rise to the pinnacle of popularity has been dizzying. By most accounts, the dish was invented by André Daguin, owner and chef of the Hôtel de France in Auch, a small town in Gascony, around 1959. The hotel restaurant was known for (among other things) its outstanding confit duck legs, a specialty of the region. One day, suddenly tired of wasting the duck breasts, Daguin was struck by an idea: Grill them rare and serve them as if they were steaks. He called the dish Lou Magret. (That’s Occitaine dialect for “le maigre” — the lean.) Reportedly he served it with a duck-fat sauce béarnaise, later switching it to green peppercorn sauce.

Robert Daley, a Times correspondent writing a travel story in 1971, described Lou Magret’s presentation this way:

“Daguin lifted it onto a plate. From a silver casserole he added tiny potatoes that had been sautéed in butter, and all over this he spooned a thin green sauce with fresh peppercorns in it.”

Just one small problem with the conventional — and widely reported — wisdom about Daguin having invented the dish: He himself told Daley that he had not. “Absolutely not,” Daley quoted him as saying.

“The Hotel de France has been in my family since 1926, and we’ve served it all that time. My grandfather was a famous chef as well, and I know he served it back in the 1890’s.”

Unfortunately, Daguin died in 2018, so we can’t ask him to clarify. I did ask his daughter Ariane Daguin, via email, what she knows about it. She is founder of D’Artagnan, the pioneering New York-based purveyor that supplies duck products (including foie gras, breasts and legs) to restaurants and home cooks around the United States. Daguin has not yet responded. (When and if she does, we will update this article.)

Whether it was Ariane Daguin’s father or great-grandfather who first served magret, no question but that it was her father who popularized it — putting Gascony on the world culinary map at the same time.

Magret waiting to be cooked

How to make magret

If you visit France and you’re an omnivore, you will want to order it. (In fact, it’s hard to avoid!) In the meantime, it’s a fabulous thing to make at home.

Because the duck breast is covered with a thick layer of fat — most of which needs to be rendered — it can be a bit tricky to cook it medium-rare. But take it slow, cook it rather low, and you’ll nail it. Cook it once or twice, and you’ll get the knack — and feel pretty brilliant about the extremely French dish you can turn out with very little effort. It’s special enough to impress yet quick and easy enough for a weeknight dinner.

Prick the skin all over with a toothpick to help the fat render. (Many recipes have you score the fat, but pricking it is easier and equally effective.) Season with salt and pepper, place skin-side-down in a cold skillet, give it high heat for half a minute till it sizzles, then cook about 15 minutes on medium-low. No need to touch it during that time, so you can set the table, or make a veg, or mince a shallot for the pan sauce. Flip it skin-side up — the fat will be mostly rendered and the skin will be a beautiful, crisp golden-brown. Cook a minute or two on the flesh side till medium-rare. Make a quick pan sauce while the breasts rest for 10 minutes. Slice the breasts, sauce ‘em up and you’re in for a treat. Here’s an actual recipe.

Serve them with haricots verts — French string beans, and (if you’re feeling expansive) potatoes sautéed in duck fat, or (if you’re feeling decadent) Gratin Dauphinois.

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Brunch, picnic or dinner: 18 delightful recipes for Mother’s Day

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By Leslie Brenner

Have you left planning your Mother’s Day celebration till the last minute? No worries — there’s still ample time! Shop today, make anything this afternoon that needs to be made in advance, and tomorrow will be a breeze. In fact, many of the dishes below can be made entirely in advance.

I’ve put together some of my favorite dishes for Mother’s Day — things that are delightfully spring-y, festive, delicious and versatile: Any of these would be perfect for brunch, lunch, dinner or a picnic. If you have time, add in a hand-made food gift — like Olivia’s Salsa Macha, or a jar of Jubilee’s Pickled Shrimp. Or give her your mom a new cookbook (even if you tell her it’s been ordered and it’s on the way, she’ll still love it).

OK, enough chatter. Here come the recipes. Mix and match according to what sounds good.

Fresh Herb Kuku from Najmieh Batmanglij’s ‘Food of Life’

Carrotes Râpées

This version of the classic French carrots in lemon vinaigrette asks you to cut the carrots into fine julienne, but you can just grate them, as French home cooks do.

Pickled Shrimp

I love this aforementioned pickled shrimp from Toni Tipton-Martin’s Jubilee. (The cookbook also makes a great gift).

Quinoa, Pea and Mint Tabbouleh

This minty salad from Michael Solomonov’s Zahav has been a favorite of mine for years. I made it just last night — a double-batch, though there was only two of us. That’s how much I like it.

Buckwheat Blinis with Crab Salad, Smoked Trout or Smoked Salmon

Top these tender, delicious little buckwheat blinis with crab salad, as Roxana Jullapat suggests in her splendid book Mother Grains. Or dab each with crème fraîche or sour cream, and top with a small piece of smoked trout or smoked salmon and snipped chives or a sprig of dill. If you’re taking them to a picnic, bring the blinis separately and assemble them on the picnic table.

Pea-Ricotta Dip

Super easy to make, light-hearted and lemony, Pea-Ricotta Dip is wonderful with rye bread, baguette or even crackers.

Greenest Gazpacho

Deliciously vegan and delightfully herbal, The Greenest Gazpacho is a make-ahead crowd-pleaser that also travels well. (Bring the herbs in a zipper bag and serve in short plastic glasses.)

Cucumber, Radish and Feta Salad

This pretty Cucumber, Radish and Feta Salad is inspired by khiar bel na’na, a Levantine cucumber salad made with dried mint and orange blossom water. We love what fresh mint layers into the mix.

Herb-Happy Potato Salad

More a blueprint than a strict recipe, our Herb-Happy Potato Salad is infinitely riffable. Find more delicious potato salad ideas here.

Najmieh’s Fresh Herb Kuku

The wonderful Fresh Herb Kuku from Najmieh Batmanglij’s Food of Life (photo near the top of the story) is like a Persian frittata.

Poached Salmon or Arctic Char

Poached fish is always a lovely Mother’s Day centerpiece, and it’s one that happens to travel super well. Try a simple classic version with dill sauce, or the Poached Salmon with Fennel-Celery Salad and Caper Mayo from Kate Leahy’s Wine Style. Leahy’s is meant to be served warm, but it’s also fabulous cold.

Quintessential Quiche Lorraine

One of my favorite all-time brunch dishes, Quiche Lorraine also travels well. Our version is Quintessential.

Perfect Easy Roast Chicken

Classic roast chicken makes a great centerpiece anytime. You can also make it ahead, chill it down and invite it to a picnic — it’s great with all those salads, and maybe a Tangy Green Everything Sauce. Ours comes with a story about what mothers can learn from their kids who cook.

Blueberry-Lemon-Almond Anytime Cake

Inspired by a recipe in Ottolenghi Simple, our Blueberry-Lemon-Almond Anytime Cake is juicy with fruit and travels well.

Almond Tuiles

Lovely on their own, with coffee, or with ice cream or chocolate mousse (see below), these Almond Tuiles are surprisingly easy to make.

Strawberry-Mezcal Ice Cream

Your mom loves mezcal — doesn’t she?! We thought so: She’ll love our Strawberry-Mezcal Ice Cream. If she’s not a mezcal fan, swap it out for tequila, orange liqueur or a touch of almond extract or orange-blossom water.

Apricot and Pistachio Olive-Oil Cake

Apricot season will be soon, but you don’t have to wait to make this Apricot and Pistachio Olive-Oil Cake from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking with Dorie — dried apricots and apricot preserves provide the magic.

Your Favorite Chocolate Mousse

If your mom is a chocolate-lover, something tells us Your Favorite Chocolate Mousse will be her favorite too. For a picnic, you can chill these in short plastic cups and wrap in plastic film — either pre-garnished, or bring along the whipped cream and cocoa nibs or sprinkles.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Cooks Without Borders wins a Webby Award, the 'Internet's highest honor'

Cooks Without Borders has been named the People’s Voice Best Personal Blog/Website in the 26th Annual Webby Awards Internet Celebration. Hailed as the “Internet’s highest honor” by The New York Times, The Webby Awards, presented by the International Academy of Digital Arts and Sciences (IADAS), is the leading international awards organization honoring excellence on the Internet. IADAS, which nominates and selects The Webby Award Winners, is comprised of Internet industry experts including Arlan Hamilton, Founder and Managing Partner, Backstage Capital; Ziwe Fumudoh, Comedian & Writer; Quinta Brunson, Writer, Director and Actor; Felecia Hatcher, CEO, Black Ambition, Sridhar Ramaswamy; Co-Founder & CEO, Neeva; David Droga; Founder and Chairman, Droga5, R/GA; Kerstin Emhoff, Co-Founder & CEO, PRETTYBIRD; Dan Pfeiffer, Co-Host, Pod Save America and Werner Vogels, VP & CTO Amazon.

This was the second Webby nomination for Cooks Without Borders, the international cooking website founded by Leslie Brenner in 2016. Webby judges make five nominations in each category, then go on to select the winner. Simultaneously, the public is invited to vote for a People’s Voice winner among the five nominees. This year Kyrie Irving’s personal blog won the juried prize.

“Cooks Without Borders has set the standard for innovation and creativity on the Internet,” said Claire Graves, Executive Director of The Webby Awards. “This award is a testament to the skill, ingenuity, and vision of its creators.”

“I’m absolutely gobsmacked that we have won the People’s Voice Webby,” said Brenner. “Humblest thanks to the judges for nominating Cooks Without Borders, and congratulations to Kyrie Irving and his team. I’m over-the-moon grateful to our readers for turning out in such great numbers to vote for us.”

Cooks Without Borders will be honored at the 26th Annual Webby Awards in New York City on May 16th, hosted by Roy Wood Jr.

Learn more about Cooks Without Borders.

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Our Moussaka for the Ages makes a delicious centerpiece for Greek Orthodox Easter

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Moussaka for the Ages from Cooks Without Borders

By Leslie Brenner

With its extravagant layers of lamb-y sauce, tender eggplant and potato, and luscious cheesy bechamel, a great moussaka is hard to resist anytime. And if you’re celebrating Greek Orthodox Easter, we can’t think of any more delicious way.

We gave the dish a makeover 16 months ago, and our Moussaka for the Ages has become a Cooks Without Borders readers’ favorite.

READ: “Moussaka, a spectacular dish with a curious history, gets a magnificent (and long overdue!) makeover”

We happen to think it’s stupendous, and it’s also easier and less messy to put together than most versions of moussaka, as we roast rather than fry the eggplant slices.

Here’s the recipe. Whether it’s for Easter or just a lovely Sunday supper, do enjoy!

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From Kimchi to Cured Magret, 7 cooking projects with delicious dividends for spring

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Quick Bok Choy and Radish Kimchi, ready to go into jars

By Leslie Brenner

Paradoxically, the best way to instant gratification is planning ahead — at least when it comes to cooking.

Stock your fridge with home-made goodies like tangy pickles or cured fish or meats, and you’ve got a world of sophisticated nibbles at your fingertips. Set a quart of salted yogurt to drip through cheesecloth overnight, and you’ve got luxuriously rich labneh — which you can drizzle with honey for a wonderful breakfast, or slick with olive oil and decorate with herbs and raw vegetables for a superb lunch. Rub a salt cure on a duck breast and a couple weeks later you’ve got a magnificent example of charcuterie.

The idea is to cook when you’re in the mood (maybe during the weekend), and then reap the rewards when you’re not. Most of these project involve more time than work — the secret ingredient in fermented, pickled and cured foods is time. And the dividends? Delicious ingredients that can add instant intense flavor to you dishes and your life.

Here are some favorite ways to make that happen.

Make quick pickles

In our recent review of The Arabesque Table by Reem Kassis, we included a recipe for Turmeric and Fenugreek Quick Pickles. You can also make quick pickles with an Italian-American or Mexican vibe.

Zanahorias Escabeches — the Mexican quick-pickled carrots that I call Taquería Carrots (because in my hometown, they’re ubiquitous in taquerías) — are a treat with tacos or without.

We love Alex Guarnaschelli’s Giardiniera, too — that’s Italian-American pickled veg, like cauliflower, celery, carrots and olives.

Make kimchi

If you’re a kimchi lover who has never made kimchi, you must! You can start with the Quick Bok Choy and Radish Kimchi shown in the photo at the top of this story (from K Food by Da-Hae and Gareth West) or a slightly more involved but still not-scary mostly napa cabbage Easy Kimchi from Robin Ha’s Cook Korean.

Make fresh cheese

Ever bought paneer from a supermarket to use in saag paneer or other Indian dishes? The commercial paneers we’ve found have been pretty plasticky. It’s actually really fun to make your own, and it’s so much more delicious, with a beautiful, soft texture. We learned how from Maneet Chauhan’s terrific book, Chaat.

Rub something on fish or poultry to cure it

Ever hear chefs talking about shio koji, as in koji-rubbed this or that?

Shio Koji is a fermented salt you can make from dried rice koji (which is a kind of inoculated rice).

Rubbed into just about any kind of meat, poultry or fish a day or two before you cook the protein, it deepens flavor and adds umami.

We love to keep a big jar of shio koji in the fridge to rub on salmon fillets, as shown above. Coat them on a Sunday, and Monday or Tuesday you can have a delicious salmon dinner in no time flat. Instructions for making the Shio Koji come at the end of our recipe for Koji Marinated Salmon from Sonoko Sakai’s wonderful Japanese Home Cooking.

Cover a duck breast in salt, let it sit 12 hours, wipe it off, season it with freshly ground black pepper, wrap it in a towel and let sit in the fridge two or three weeks. Voilà! Cured magret — an amazing treat to enjoy with an apéritif or sliced onto a salad. It’s from Camille Fourmont’s charming La Buvette cookbook, co-authored by Cooks Without Borders’ friend Kate Leahy.

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Cookbooks We Love: Reem Kassis' 'The Arabesque Table' offers irresistible spins on Levantine tradition

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By Leslie Brenner

The Arabesque Table: Contemporary Recipes from the Arab World by Reem Kassis; photographs by Dan Perez; 2021, Phaidon, $39.95.

Backgrounder

Born and raised in Jerusalem, Reem Kassis — who now lives in Pennsylvania, and lived in four other countries in between — is a former McKinsey consultant with two undergraduate degrees from the University of Pennsylvania, an MBA from Wharton and an MSc in social psychology from the London School of Economics. Following the birth of her first of two daughters, she stepped back from her 10-year career and decided to follow her “real passion” — cooking, food and food history. Her first cookbook, The Palestinian Table (2017), wove recipes from her family together with Palestinian culture and history. It won the British Guild of Food Writers First Book Award and was nominated for a James Beard Award.

Kassis’ aim with The Arabesque Table, as she explains in its introduction, was to write about and express in recipes “the evolving and cross-cultural Arab table.”

Why we love it

Kassis has created a fabulously rich collection of recipes and stories that manage to do three things at once. First, they ground us in the culinary traditions of the Arab world — particularly the Fertile Crescent (a.k.a. the Levant or the Middle East). Second, they paint an evocative picture of her Jerusalem childhood through food and her family traditions. And third, they give us a delicious collection of recipes that have her own very personal stamp.

Relatively new to the world of food-writing and professional cookery as Kassis may be, she has a great palate and a wonderful creative instincts. Her recipes respect and pay tribute to the flavors, ingredients and vibe of the Levant, but she’s not afraid to take liberties and risks — often to delightful effect. Many of these dishes will become permanent fixtures in my repertoire. Impressive!

For instance: a magnificent mega-mezza

Not a traditional dish, this roasted eggplant salad on a cushion of tahini is Kassis’ invention — combining elements of mutabal (roasted eggplant dip with tahini) and bitinjan al rahib (“monk’s eggplant” — roasted eggplant with fresh vegetables). As a result, it’s kind of like everything you want in a mezze assortment but all on one plate. The eggplant salad part, which has a gorgeous zing from just the right amount of pomegrante molasses, has pops of salty-meaty umami flavor from sliced green olives; walnuts add complexity and a bit of crunch. The tahini sauce is a creamy, rich foil. Swipe a piece of warm pita through it and you’re transported to everywhere you ever wanted to visit in the Levant.

And an elegant main you can make in a flash

I love this dish of shrimp sautéed with artichoke hearts, turmeric and garlic, enriched with a splash of half-and-half and brightened with slices of fresh lemon — with the salty undertone of preserved lemon. And once you have the shrimps peeled and deveined, it comes together nearly as quickly as you can read that sentence. (Seriously, you can have it to the table in 15 minutes.) In fact, I’ve made it twice in two weeks.

This goes great with that

If you’re a fan of fresh fava beans, but don’t enjoy spending the time peeling every single one, you’ll be glad to know that the bags of frozen ones (already peeled!) you can buy in well stocked Middle Eastern groceries are nearly as good. Or maybe you already knew. In any case, Kassis reminds us — and offers her original take on a Levantine classic. In the traditional version, made with fresh favas, the skins are left on, and the beans are chopped then cooked in “a generous amount of oil” to the point of very soft, then flavored with garlic and coriander.

Kassis prefers them bright green and free of skins — and having tasted favas in their skins, I agree. She most often makes this using frozen favas, and again: agreed. The dish is easy, delicious and I’ve already made it thrice.

Gotta try this!

Every comprehensive Middle-Eastern cookbook offers instructions on making labneh (or labaneh), the thick, creamy fresh yogurt-cheese that’s ubiquitous in the region. But somehow I’d never tried it till Kassis sung its praises. You don’t need a recipe; just stir together a quart of full-fat yogurt (regular, not Greek) with a teaspoon (or a little more) of salt, pour it into a cheesecloth-lined sieve set over a bowl, and let it drain overnight. In the morning, you have labneh. Add honey or jam, scoop it up with toasted bread, and you have breakfast. Or wait till noon, drizzle it with olive oil and sumac and call it lunch. More to come on that in a future story, but try it now; it’s delicious — definitely greater than the sum of its simple parts.

But wait — give us some pickles

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention this very simple and quick pickle set-up. The brine — just vinegar, curry powder, turmeric, ground fenugreek, salt and water — makes delicious cauliflower and carrot pickles you can enjoy in a couple hours. They get even better as they sit, and you can also throw in cabbage, green beans, turnips or other veg. Keep one or two jars, give another as a gift.

RECIPE: Turmeric and Fenugreek Quick Pickles

A very minor suggestion

I tested a total of 7 recipes from The Arabesque Table. For the most part, they worked great, and tasted great. Out of those there’s only one I’ll probably not make again, not because I didn’t enjoy it, but because it more labor-intensive than its result warranted. And only one had a significant problem I had to fix in our adaptation (the tahini sauce for the eggplant dip was liquid when directions were followed closely, rather than spreadable).

But I do have a general note: If you purchase the book (and you should if you love these flavors!), be sure to taste the dishes at key points and adjust the seasoning. That’s an instruction that was left of out all the recipes, as far as I can see, and obviously it’s always super important.

Still Wanna Make

So many things! Fire-Roasted Eggplant and Tomato Mutabal. Spiced Kebabs with Preserved Lemon Dill Yogurt. Seafood Stew with Preserved Lemon, Apricots and Olives. Mustard Greens with Labaneh (now that I know how to make lebaneh!). Sujuk — Spicy Cured Sausage. Makmoora — which is a chicken pot pie spun from a 10th-century recipe. Chicken breasts stuffed with pistachios, radish greens and sumac. Lemon Rosemary Semolina Cake.

Thank you, Ms. Kassis, for what promises to be some delicious future adventures.


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The 'queen of all gumbos' is a beloved New Orleans tradition in the days leading up to Easter

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Gumbo des Herbes, prepared from a recipe adapted from ‘The Dooky Chase Cookbook’ by Leah Chase

By Leslie Brenner

If you think of gumbo as a seafood-happy soupy stew punctuated with (and thickened by) okra, you’re absolutely right. In fact the word “gumbo” comes from gombo, which means “okra” in several west African languages.

But seafood gumbo is just one iteration of the dish, and gumbos don’t always include okra.  In fact, the “queen of all gumbos” — the one that New Orleans residents look forward to eating just once a year at the legendary Dooky Chase’s Restaurant — has neither okra nor any seafood in its long list of ingredients.

That one day — Holy Thursday in the Catholic calendar, which is always the Thursday before Easter — is coming right up this week. That’s when gumbo-loving New Orleaneans will be taking their seats at Dooky Chase’s, founded in 1941 by Emily and Dooky Chase, Sr., to enjoy a bowl of its famous Gumbo des Herbes. It’s the most celebrated version of the dish more broadly known as gumbo z’herbes.

The one served at the restaurant is thickly verdant, packed with nine kinds of greens, along with smoked ham, two kinds of sausage, beef brisket, veal brisket, onions, garlic and more.

Dooky Chase’s is “completely booked for dining in” on Thursday, says Tracie Griffin, granddaughter of Leah Chase — the matriarch who headed the Chase family and its restaurant until she died three years ago at age 96. “But take-out is available.” If you happen to be in the New Orleans area and want to partake, you can call the restaurant to pre-order.

Next best thing: Cook up a pot at home

If you’re not in NOLA, you can still enjoy the tradition. Invite your friends and family, help yourself to Dooky Chase’s recipe below, and cook up a big, delicious pot. Chef Edgar “Dooky” Chase IV generously shared with us the recipe from The Dooky Chase Cookbook, by his grandmother, Leah Chase.

Want to learn more about gumbo z’herbes and its history? Last year, Chloé Landrieu-Murphy wrote a fascinating story about it. As she explained, it’s an important dish in the region for Catholics who abstain from meat during Lent — the 40 days of reflection leading up to Easter.

READ: “In celebration of gumbo z’herbes, a gloriously green, soul-nourishing Louisiana Lenten tradition”

For that reason, there are myriad versions of vegan gumbo z’herbes — and Landrieu-Murphy created a fabulous one for us.

Chloé Landrieu-Murphy’s Vegan Gumbo Z’herbes

‘Jubilee’ Gumbo Z’herbes

We’ve also got an excellent recipe adapted from Toni Tipton-Martin’s marvelous book Jubilee: Recipes from Two Centuries of African American Cooking.

Whether you’re vegan or omnivorous, Catholic, atheist or a food lover of any faith, do consider diving into a bowl of the queen of all gumbos. You’ll be glad you did.

RECIPE: Dooky Chase’s Gumbo des Herbes

RECIPE: Chloe’s Vegan Gumbo Z’herbes

RECIPE: ‘Jubilee’ Gumbo Z’herbes

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Duck season? Rabbit season? Maybe — but dessert-wise, it's . . . Pavlova season!

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By Leslie Brenner

One evening fifteeen years ago, when I was living in Los Angeles, my friend Jenni wowed me at dinner with a magnificent dessert: a cloud-like pouf of meringue, crunchy on the outside and soft-chewy in the center, topped with a glorious mess of berries snuggled on a cushion of whipped cream and scattered with toasted chopped pistachios.

My spring and summer desserts would never be the same.

The dessert, called a Pavlova, has a down-under pedigree, invented about a hundred years ago, either in Australia or New Zealand (it’s unclear which), where it first showed up laden with strawberries, kiwis and passion fruit. It was named for the Russian prima ballerina Anna Pavlovna Pavlova, who visited both countries in the 1920s. My friend Jenni, born and raised in South Africa, had fallen in love with the dessert there as a young girl.

When Jenni feted us with one back in 2007, Pavlovas were something you’d usually only see in restaurants (if you saw one at all) and probably mostly on the coasts, in New York, San Francisco or L.A. But those restaurant versions were small, smooth, perfect and formal-looking — nothing like that wild, craggy, irresistible mess I fell in love with at Jenni’s.

The cake that launched the Ottolenghi empire

Since then, Pavlovas’ popularity has grown — fueled in no small part by London chef Yotam Ottolenghi, whose 2017 cookbook Sweet (co-authored by Helen Goh) features on its cover a magnificent full-sized cinnamon version slathered with praline cream and covered with gorgeous slices of ripe figs and pistachios. Sweet!

In fact, spectacular lofty Pavlovas were essential in launching Ottolenghi’s restaurant and global cookbook empire. For his first professional kitchen job, as the Israeli-born chef tells us in the introduction to Sweet, he spent much of his time whipping egg whites for vanilla soufflés. And then, he writes:

“I ended up making my name on egg whites, sugar and lots and lots of air. The famously giant Ottolenghi meringues, which have adorned our windows for many years, have become our trademark.”

When it comes to busy home cooks, Pavlovas have a wealth of advantages. Surprisingly easy to make, they’re not only impressive and dramatic, but also forgiving — as their vibe is abundantly fruity and disheveled. Perfection is not required, nor even recommended.

Whipped meringue disc, ready to go into the oven

The Pavlova’s foundation is a thick disc of meringue — which you make by beating egg whites and sugar until stiff, spreading on a parchment-lined baking sheet, and baking slowly. As it cools, it becomes crisp on the outside and soft on the inside. Use that time to macerate fruit. Whip some cream, slather it on the meringue, top with fruit, add enhancements like nuts (if desired), and voilà.

The baked meringue disc: Don’t worry; it’s not supposed to be perfect! The crags and crannies will catch the whipped cream and fruit juice.

Pavlovas are adaptable — make them full-size, individual, or anything in-between, and top them with whatever fruit is available and great-looking. You can flavor the meringue with extracts, liqueurs, spices or chocolate, or play with their texture by using brown sugar (as Ottolenghi does in his cinnamon-flavored fig and pistachio Pavlova).

This time of year, as strawberries are coming into season (no doubt they’re already resplendently displayed in Southern California on the beloved Harry’s Berries stand at Santa Monica Farmer’s Market), I like to make simple small ones featuring the juicy red fruit. (Happy spring!)

For the one shown here, I macerated the berries in orange liqueur and used them to adorn individually sized meringues. Want to dress them up a little more? Sprinkle on a little citrus zest and finish with toasted sliced almonds. They’re just the thing for spring holidays, like Easter or Mother’s Day. And if you’re looking for a flour-free dessert for Passover, look no further! (Which means yes, they’re gluten-free.)

Of course a full-on assortment of berries — blackberries, raspberries, strawbs and blueberries, as shown in the photo at top on a full-size Pavlova — is wonderful, too.

In summer, once stone fruits come into play, peaches, plums and apricots dance delightfully atop meringues. Or they can even get rolled up into them, as in this inventive spin by the Pavlova master himself, Ottolenghi.

To achieve that one, you make a meringue that’s rectangular rather than round. Spread a filling of whipped cream, berries, peaches and toasted sliced almonds on top, and roll it up. Yes, it probably sounds crazy if you’ve ever made meringues, but it works. Then more fruit goes on top, with a dusting of powdered sugar. Served in slices, it’s crazy good.

One of the glorious things about Pavlova season is that it’s luxuriously long. Late summer and fall, you could make make Ottolenghi’s sliced fig number. Or mix it up with late-season plums, or persimmons, or some roasted grapes. Toasted walnuts would be lovely on that.

But for now, we have spring, with all its delicious possibility. My recommendation for making most of the season? Get all messy with meringues and fruit and treat yourself (and friends and family, of course!) to one.

RECIPE: Strawberry Pavlovas

RECIPE: Berry Pavlova with Pistachios

RECIPE: Showstopper Rolled Pavlova with Peaches and Blackberries

READ: “Make this showstopper summer dessert: Rolled Pavlova with Peaches and Blackberries, from Ottolenghi’s ‘Sweet’”

Read: “Messy, gorgeous and dramatic: The berry Pavlova is a spring-into-summer stunner”

FIND: More Cooks Without Borders desserts

Cooks Without Borders is nominated for a Webby Award!

By Leslie Brenner

We are thrilled to announce that Cooks Without Borders has been nominated for Best Personal Blog/Website in the 26th Annual Webby Awards.

In case you’re not familiar with it, the Webby — presented by the International Academy of Digital Arts and Sciences (IADAS) — is the “Internet’s highest honor,” as The New York Times described it. It is the second Webby nomination for CWB. Cooks Without Borders is honored to be included in a group of excellent nominees in its category: Kyrie Irving; Esoteric.Codes; Just Curious; and Anywhere We Roam.

The judges will name a winner on Tuesday, April 26, 2022 in New York City. Fueling our excitement is the knowledge that The Webby Awards received more than 14,300 entries from all 50 states and 70 countries worldwide this year, so being nominated in such an important category really bowls us over. Thank you to the judges — and to you, our readers, for keeping us inspired.

As a nominee, we are also eligible to win a Webby People’s Voice Award, which is voted online by fans across the globe. If you enjoy what we do here at Cooks Without Borders, please vote for us! You’ll need to sign up for an account to cast your ballot and support us, but it just takes a minute (and then you can vote in other categories, as well). Your support would mean the world to us. Voting will end on April 21.

Many thanks.

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Spring's dynamic duo — grilled butterflied leg of lamb and asparagus — make a marvelous (and portable!) feast

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By Leslie Brenner

In my corner of planet earth, we’ve arrived at the point in spring when the evenings are starting to stay warm enough to kindle thoughts of grilling — of sharing a glass of rosé out on the patio with friends, of nibbling dips and chips and such and taking in the intoxicating aroma of something delectable cooking over the coals.

And so yesterday, with our patio not yet exactly fit for prime time, I proposed bringing a ready-to-go grilling party to friends who had just moved into a new house. A butterflied leg of lamb and asparagus would be the base offering, along with a bottle of French rosé. Not a hard sell — you should try it some time!

It was so easy to put together — and turned to to be so delicious — that it sparked an “aha” moment: Rosy slices of flavorful grilled lamb and tender spears of lightly charred asparagus love to be the life of the spring party. The combo isn’t only great for instigating BYO-main course dinner invitations; it’s also the delightfully low-stress solution for Easter dinner or lunch, breaking a Ramadan fast, or (in a matter of weeks) setting the table for Mother's Day.

Asparagus and spring onions, cooked on the grill

Prepping for the event is shockingly quick. Procure a boneless leg of lamb: The first one I saw was 2.8 pounds, large enough to serve 6. A smaller one would be sufficient for four. Grab some fresh herbs — our marinade recipe calls for mint and cilantro, but you could swap either for parsley, rosemary, thyme, oregano or marjoram, or use a combo. You probably have everything else (red wine vinegar, garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper) on hand. And grab a bunch or two of asparagus: a pound and a half is perfect for four, two pounds for six.

This time of year, you might also find spring onions — the ones that look like scallions, but with much bigger bulbs on the bottom. Yesterday I found both red and white ones. These are fantastic thrown on that grill as well — as are garlic scapes, if you’re lucky enough to find them.

Once you’re home with the booty, make a marinade: Chop the herbs, toss in a bowl with pressed garlic, vinegar, salt and pepper, whisk in olive oil. Unwrap the lamb, removing any strings holding it in shape, and flatten it as much as possible. If it doesn’t lay flat, feel free to slash with a knife here and there, keeping it all in one piece: You want a shape that will cook relatively evenly on the grill. Don’t worry, though, if it’s much thicker in places — it’ll still be great.

Place the lamb in a shallow bowl, coat it on both sides with the marinade and transfer it to a large zipper bag. (Alternatively, you can put the lamb in the bag, pour in the marinade, zip it up (pushing out the air first), then massage it a bit so it’s completely covered in marinade. Leave it like that for at least two hours (refrigerating for all but the last hour), and it’s ready to cook. Heat the grill, wipe off the marinade and cook on both sides — it’s quicker than you might think: 12 to 22 minutes total (depending on the heat of the grill) will get you lamb that’s medium-rare where thickest and medium where thinnest.

RECIPE: Grilled Butterflied Leg of Lamb

You should have enough room on the grill to throw on the asparagus — which needs nothing more than olive oil and salt before going on. (For my portable feast, I trimmed off their woody bottoms and placed them in a zipper bag with about two teaspoons of oil and about a quarter teaspoon of salt, zipped it up, rolled the spears around a bit to coat, and transported them just so.) Ditto the spring onions: Trim the tops, slice them in half, creating a flat surface on the bulbs, and give them the same oil-and-salt treatment. If you’re not transporting them, you can put the asparagus (and spring onions if using) on a sheet pan, drizzle with oil, sprinkle with salt, and let them sit till you’re ready to grill.

As for timing, you can grill the asparagus at the same time as the lamb, cooking till the spears are as tender as you like them (I like them tender, and take them off when they’re floppy with picked up with tongs). Spring onions or garlic scapes will be perfect once they’re a bit charred, and both are fine served room temp. Want them hot? Grill the veg once you’ve pulled off the lamb to rest 10 minutes.

Slice the lamb, arrange on a platter surrounded by the asparagus, pour any collected juices over the lamb, and your feast is ready.

And it’s delicious just like that. Want to make a few more things?

This Tangy Green Everything Sauce — packed with mint, parsley, dill and shallots — is pretty dreamy with the lamb.

And so is its oregano-forward cousin, chimichurri. Both can be made ahead, and they’re easy to transport in a jar.

Yesterday, prepping the lamb, asparagus and spring onions was so quick that I remembered some red potatoes I had in the pantry, I boiled them up and threw together a quick (and super portable!) French-accented potato salad. While the potatoes cooked, I whisked together red wine vinegar, a goodly dollop of whole-grain mustard, salt and olive oil, then added a spoonful of mayo, thinly sliced shallots, roughly chopped parsley and black pepper. When the potatoes were cooked, I sliced them in their jackets and tossed them with the sauce: delicious.

A bit more involved, our Best Potato Salad Ever is great with this, too. (Find more potato salad recipes here.) All potato salads are portable as can be — ideal for stress-free at-home entertaining, or we’ll-bring-it-all personal pop-up dinners.

For dessert, the arrival of strawberry season makes it easy to keep it simple: Stem the berries (halving or quartering if they’re large), sprinkle with a little sugar or toss in Grand Marnier or other orange liqueur, let macerate an hour or two and serve just like that. Or with ice cream.

Strawberry Pavlova

If it’s a fancier feast, you can make Strawberry Pavlovas: These are great for Easter, Mother’s Day or Passover celebrations (they’re flour-free!). Again, everything can be made ahead — just assemble them on the spot.

So that’s the blueprint: As simple or extended as you like.

Happy spring!

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Cookbooks We Love: In 'Treasures of the Mexican Table,’ Pati Jinich shares recipes soaked in local character

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By Leslie Brenner

Treasures of the Mexican Table: Classic Recipes, Local Secrets BY PATI JINICH; PHOTOGRAPHS BY ANGIE MOSIER, 2021, HOUGHTON MIFFLIN HARCOURT, $35.

Backgrounder

This is the third book from Pati Jinich (pronounced “HEEN-ich”), host of the long-running, award-winning PBS series ‘Pati’s Mexican Table.” In the show, the Mexico City native travels around the country discovering and bringing to viewers its delicious foodways. (Its 10th season features the state of Jalisco.) Her excellent debut cookbook, Pati’s Mexican Table, published in 2013, focused on the basics of Mexican cooking. Three years later, she published Mexican Today, offering personal favorites aimed at busy cooks with families.

Why we love this one

Like a latter-day Diana Kennedy, Jinich traveled widely and deeply for Treasures of the Mexican Table, turning up outstanding, delicious, sometimes classic and often less well known dishes in people’s homes, in restaurants, in markets and on the street. If you love the anthropological and culinary richness of Kennedy’s classics The Cuisines of Mexico and Mexican Regional Cooking, but wish those volumes included visuals, this is the book for you. The food is enticingly photographed by Angie Mosier, Jinich has a winning personality and her writing is exceedingly relatable, warm and engaging.

Vuelva a la Vida is a coastal dish that’s like a cross between ceviche and a seafood coctél.

The book is indeed filled with treasures; I stuck Post-It notes on no fewer than 25 recipes as must-tries, and loved the ones I cooked.

For Instance, Vuelve a la Vida

If you’ve ever traveled on Mexico’s Pacific or Gulf coasts, you’ve probably bumped into the cool and revivifying seafood dish called Vuelve a la Vida, which means “return to life.” Tangy, bright and lively, it’s like a cross between ceviche — as it includes fish “cooked” in lime juice — and a Mexican-style seafood coctél. If you’re attracted to cocteles but sometimes find them too ketchupy, take Jinich’s Vuelve a la Vida for a spin: It does include a good dose of the red stuff, but it’s balanced with lime juice, smoothed out with olive oil infused with garlic and árbol chile and punched up with oregano.

Different versions of the dish use varying types of seafood. Jinich’s recipe calls for shrimp, lump crabmeat and firm-fleshed white fish (I used red snapper from the Gulf), but her “Cook’s Note” suggests playing around with the fin fish, and subbing cooked squid or octopus, raw oysters, clams or scallops. Thinking about the dish now is making me crave it; I can’t wait to try it again with some squid and maybe oysters in the mix.

Belly-Button Soup

Jinich learned to make Sopa de Ombligo, a pinto-bean and masa dumpling soup, from Maria Elena Machado in the tiny Sinaloa mountain town of Jinetes de Machado. Ombligo means belly-button; the word attaches itself to the soup because its dumplings each have a navel-like dimple pressed into it. It’s warming, rich and wonderful — and those dumplings are a great way to feature masa harina made from heirloom corn.

For the puréed base, you can either start with dried pintos or use canned beans. Both ways yielded great results, so don’t beat yourself up if you want to take the shortcut.

A sumptuous mole called Atápakua de Pollo con Hongos

From the indigenous Purépecha people of Michoacán, Atápakua de Pollo con Hongos has a similar color palette as Sopa de Ombligo, but completely different flavors. Not familiar with atápakua? Larousse Cocina Mexico defines it as a dish with a “very spicy sauce made with masa and guajillos or green chiles, tomato, cilantro or mint and some type of meat or vegetable” (my translation). Jinich includes both cilantro and mint, and uses charred tomatillos — which give the dish a delightful, unexpected brightness. She translates it as “Chicken Mole with Mushrooms,” and provides an excellent side-bar page about what makes a mole a mole — it’s a preparation with a mashed or ground sauce combining a number of ingredients including at least one type of chile, and characterized by “multidimensional layering of flavors.”

For this one, masa harina is stirred in, adding sumptuous body. (Naturally I used the marvelous heirloom masa harina from Masienda.) It’s very saucy, so take Jinich’s suggestion of serving it with warm corn tortillas and rice.

You’ve gotta try this

Jinich’s Pastel de Almendra y Chocolate — a flourless (and gluten-free) chocolate almond cake — may be the easiest chocolate cake in the universe. Mix eggs and condensed sweetened milk, add melted butter and chocolate, dump in dry ingredients, mix again and bake. The resulting dessert is moist, chocolatey, rich and delicious, so good I’m going to be sure to have chocolate and almond meal always on hand so I can whip one up at will.

Jinich’s original recipe calls for combining everything in the jar of blender or in the bowl of a food processor, but neither my blender nor my full-sized Cuisinart were large enough to accommodate the batter. (A large blender jar, such as that of a Vitamix, probably would be.) For that reason, I changed the method; our adaptation uses a hand-mixer instead. Which brings me to . . .

A caveat

Treasures would have benefited from more rigorous recipe testing and editing. Because the recipes are sometimes hinky or not as clear as they might be, the book is probably better suited to more experienced and confident cooks who can adjust on the fly. Eyeballing the Vuelve a la Vida recipe, I could see that three pounds of seafood might be a lot for a dish that’s meant to serve 6 to 8 as an appetizer or 4 to 6 as a light main course. I halved the ingredient amounts to test the recipe, and found the adjustment to be perfect — the recipe as printed yielded twice as much as needed. (Our adapted version uses 1 1/2 pounds of seafood total, which is ample for 6 to 8 appetizer portions. Meanwhile, over-purchasing crabmeat isn’t what anyone wants to be doing these days, as the price has skyrocketed.) The first time I made the Sopa de Ombligo, the dumplings completely dissolved into the soup — it turned out the recipe called for too much water added to the masa harina (our adapted recipe adjusts it).

Still wanna make

Sopa de Esquites con Queso (Corn Soup with Quest Fresco); Cecina (Adobo Pork); Tasajo (grilled air-dried beef); and Mole Verde con Puerco y Frijol Blanco from Oaxaca; Chicken Pozole with Pinto Beans and Carne Asada from Sonora; Sincronizadas con Rajas y Chorizo from Coahuila; Chiles Rellenos de Atún (pickled poblanos stuffed with tuna) and lamb barbacoa from central Mexico; Frijol con Puerco Yucateca and Pámpano en Salsa Verde from the Yucatán; Birria (braised goat or lamb) from Jalisco. And a dessert I won’t be able to resist making for long: Helado de Leche Quemada — Burnt Milk Ice Cream, also from Oaxaca, from the weaving village Teotitlán del Valle.

Editing and testing concerns notwithstanding, this is a book I highly recommend: Bursting with delectable inspiration, it beautifully expresses the incredible richness of a Mexican cooking. It’s one I’m sure I’ll be referring to for years to come.