This is a lovely dish to serve with grilled pita bread, either alongside a couple of other mezze, while you have a drink before supper, or as an appetizer in its own right, or as a light lunch with a good salad on the side. In the summer, please use fresh peas; at all other times of year the wondrous frozen pea will do. You can make this dish in advance, put it in the fridge, and bring it back to room temperature when you want it.
All cooks have a few basic recipes that they turn to again and again over the course of a year. Potato and green bean salad is one of mine. I make it different ways depending on the season and my mood. It's very good dressed with just olive oil and lemon juice, but it becomes absolutely superb when bound with homemade Green Goddess. If you're familiar only with the bottled version of this dressing, you must try my recipe, which is based on the original, invented in the 1920s by the great San Francisco chef Victor Hirtzler.
Don't buy peas without tasting them. They should be sweet and juicy.
Here is a remarkable dish that comes together in minutes yet still looks and tastes so elegant it's appropriate for serving at the fanciest dinner party you can imagine.
Ingredients
The simplicity of this Calabrian dish is stunning, and for that reason there is no point in even thinking about it until that time in late summer when utterly ripe, red, and flavorful garden tomatoes are in season—preferably from your own or a neighbor's garden. That's where the flavor lies—there and in the use of fine extra-virgin olive oil, good crunchy sea salt, a zesty dash of hot red chili, and, of course, the charcoal fire on which the tomatoes are set to roast. Toast the bread over the charcoal embers after you finish the tomatoes, so it will be crisp but not tough and hard.
Making fromage fort is the ultimate way of using your leftover cheese.
Ingredients
On a glorious trip to Venice over a decade ago, I discovered the extraordinary affinity spring vegetables like baby artichokes, feathery wild asparagus, peas, leeks, and tiny onions have for each other, how their flavors can link and complement. Home again, this Venetian lesson in spring led me to devise a simple approach—half sauté, half stew—that would accommodate whatever combination of vegetables I happened to find in the farmers' market or my own inclination of the moment. Sometimes I replace the artichokes with new potatoes, or use sliced sugar snap peas if I can't find regular peas. If I am feeling lazy, I pare it down to just asparagus, leeks, and pea shoots, the tender leafy tendrils of the pea plant. Once the vegetables are prepared, the stew takes very little time to cook.
This soup can also be served cold, with a few fresh chervil leaves rather than the Parmesan cream. And it makes a nice small appetizer if presented in espresso cups, in which case it will serve at least 12.