Leek

I think leeks are underappreciated by most and even intimidating to some people. They are featured in many recipes and restaurant dishes as an aromatic base flavor, but until my Brazilian friend Paolo served them to me this way, I’d never seen them as a proper side dish standing all on their own. They are part of the onion family and, as with onions, slow cooking will bring out their natural sugars. Patience is a real virtue here. Cook them too fast, over heat that’s too high, and they will burn. Slow, gentle heat will produce meltingly soft and sweet leeks that can be twirled on a fork like spaghetti. I love these with beef dishes such as Filets Mignons with Sweet Balsamic Reduction (page 108) or Flank Steak with Lime Marinade (page 105).

When I was a kid we grew all our own vegetables, especially calabasa, or squash. LOTS of squash. To be honest, I got a little sick of it (don’t worry—my mom already knows). Then I grew up and figured out a few surefire ways to show off the delicious earthiness and sweetness of summer squash. This soup is one of them; the lemon gives it great tang and the soup is unexpectedly creamy, even though there’s not a bit of cream or milk in it. Be sure to puree this soup in batches—don’t pour the soup over the level of the top of the food processor blade. This soup is brothy before it’s pureed, and it’ll seep out of the work bowl and all over the counter if you’re not careful.

I’m crazy about the deep nuttiness of fregola (Italian couscous) and I’m always looking for new ways to show it off. When cooked in the style of a risotto, fregola gets really creamy and is a change from typical Arborio rice. Fresh corn turns this creamy risotto into summer goodness. The familiar flavors are boosted by the addition of shrimp and a topping of creamy melted leeks, which also makes a fabulous side dish on its own.

Dark green curly spinach varieties like Savoy or Bloomsdale have a deeper, richer flavor than the lighter green, grassier flat-leaf spinach, but any spinach pairs wonderfully with cardamom.

The Italian version of an omelet, in which the whisked eggs and the other ingredients go into a large pan at the same time, a frittata can be eaten warm or cold. Almost any kind of vegetable works well in a frittata. We love the sweetness and flavor of leeks and roasted onions. The original sandwich at ’wichcraft contained only the frittata and good, aged Cheddar cheese. Ben Bohen, a long-time collaborator, would have this sandwich as his regular breakfast—except that Ben would always add roasted tomato. He encouraged the staff to try it, and he encouraged the customers to try it, until eventually he converted us all and we put it on the menu forevermore with Ben’s roasted tomatoes.

You may want to prepare this meal quite often—not just for the holidays—when you see how easy it is.

Gina: Ladies! The things we go through to please our men! You should be fully aware that Aunt Faye is Pat’s favorite aunt, so you know I had to get this recipe down right. Pat: My dear and favorite aunt, Faye, is my late father’s oldest sister. She lives in Chicago, and for a while, when we were children, we lived there, too. During those years, Aunt Faye would cook us chicken and dumplings. Needless to say, it became one of my favorite dishes (and the fact that my favorite aunt was preparing it made it all the better!).

Pat: Creamy, smoky white beans, simmered with some kind of pork fat, are a Southern staple, especially when served with a wedge of warm cornbread. This white-bean soup is finished with kale, a nourishing green that’s packed with vitamins A and C (the leaves are so pretty that Gina uses the green and purple varieties to decorate her party trays). Smoked sausage makes a great addition to this soup, and what we do then is leave out the bacon and add 1/2 pound of sliced smoked sausage instead. (You’ve heard the expression “an eye for an eye” in Memphis we say “a pig for a pig.”)

Pat: When Gina and I are on a fitness kick and determined to lose a few pounds, I love having healthy, vibrant vegetable soups on hand. The soups help us fight the flab without sacrificing taste. And they fill us up, too! We often serve soup as a nourishing lunch or first course, and this carrot soup is one of my favorites. It has a velvety texture and an orange color that pops, and it includes a secret ingredient (sweet potato) and warm spices like cumin, coriander, and cayenne to give it depth and an irresistible aroma. Puréeing this soup in a blender instead of a food processor makes it especially silky. It’s great hot, but it’s also good chilled, topped with a swirl of plain yogurt or sour cream, during our sultry Memphis summers.

Because quiche is a custard, by definition it requires that a protein (egg) and fat (cream) mixture set up during baking but remain soft and silky when served at room temperature. Here, the cream has been eliminated completely, making a portion that is just over 200 calories. The flavor comes from caramelized onions, a little bit of bacon, and a small dose of an assertive cheese, such as Gruyère.

This is one of my fancy fake-out meals. It looks like it came out of an Asian influenced bistro, but the difference between your Express Lane receipt and your dinner check, not to mention the prep time, is substantial.

Try halibut, mahi-mahi, or tilapia in this recipe, too. Leeks and bacon are so delish . . . add some fish and they become good for you, too.

Bacon, Leek, and Tomato Soup is a soup for all seasons! So easy and too delicious; you’ll make this one January or August, year after year. It is especially welcome on rainy nights.

Feel free to make this dish in all four seasons. I just call it “Spring Chicken” because it tastes light and crisp, like spring air, and because “Spring Chicken” sounds more appetizing than “Leeky Chicken,” which was what I called an earlier version of this recipe.

Serve as is or with a simple green salad.

Oregon on a plate: From Willamette Valley Pinot Noir to cranberry bogs and filbert trees, this menu celebrates one great state!

"There is no such thing as Jewish Alsatian cooking. It is Alsatian cooking,” Chef Gilbert Brenner told me over lunch at his restaurant, Wistub Brenner, with a view over the Lauch River in Colmar, a charming city in southern Alsace that has had a Jewish presence since at least the eleventh century. “Jewish cooks adapted the dietary laws to what was available here,” Monsieur Brenner told me. “France didn’t create dishes. Families created the dishes. It is the cooking of their grandparents and reatgrandparents.” Looking over the menu at Brenner’s popular restaurant, I was taken by this extraordinary leek terrine, which I later learned was put on the menu for Gilbert’s Jewish customers and friends who keep kosher or are vegetarians. During the short asparagus season in the spring, Gilbert substitutes asparagus for the leeks. The recipe is a modern version of very old savory bread puddings, like schaleths (see page 251).