Rosemary

You can use 8-inch or longer metal or wooden skewers for this dish. If you use wooden skewers, soak them in water to cover for an hour or so before threading the ingredients onto them. That should help prevent the skewers from burning as they cook. If you are using fresh bay leaves or rosemary, you can use the thin branches from either herb as skewers, flavoring the ingredients even more. Because these branches will be shorter than store-bought skewers, you will probably need to make more and smaller skewers. Also, handle them carefully as they cook—herb branches aren’t quite as sturdy as metal or wooden skewers.

Feel free to swap out the green vegetable for whatever looks good. My husband, John, loves salami and really all pork in general. The only thing he likes better is a meal like this one, which combines pork and crispy salami-topped side dishes!

Pasta stewed up in red wine is a Tuscan invention: my kinda people! I toss it together with other usual suspects from the region: wild mushrooms, rosemary, and dark greens.

This sammy is so hearty you won’t think to ask “where’s the beef?”

The aroma of rosemary is reminiscent of a pine forest. We thought it would be fun to pair this herbal aromatic note with the juicy, sweet-tart flesh of the pineapple. The effect of the controlled bruising brightens and tenderizes the pineapple while preserving its bright flavor. This pairs nicely with a variety of sweet and savory preparations. We like it with white, meaty fish like snapper and flounder or with shrimp or calamari. The pineapple is also pretty darned good with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Sandrine Weil and Mathias Laurent represent to me how France has changed in a generation. Their apartment at the time, overlooking the Bois de Boulogne, was very modern, very relaxed. With three young girls, they didn’t care if everything was in order, and the place had a wonderful warm feeling of welcoming chaos. On one special Shabbat, Mathias was the cook, and gave me a present of a meal with truffles. After the blessings were recited over the wine and the challah, made by Sandrine and her daughters, we tasted scrambled eggs with truffles as a first course, followed by an extraordinary dish of chicken with truffles stuffed under the skin, called in French poularde demi-deuil (chicken in half-mourning), and truffled gelato for dessert. Here is Mathias’s recipe for roast chicken. Since truffles are rare and expensive, I often instead scatter around the chicken some carrots, potatoes, Brussels sprouts, green beans, or whatever is seasonally available. It is delicious, and a snap to prepare. If you are lucky enough to have a truffle, however, omit the rosemary, thyme, and preserved lemon the night before, and carefully slide a small, sharp knife under the skin of the chicken, separating the skin from the meat. Then cut the truffle into six to eight thin slices and slide them under the skin. Leave in the refrigerator overnight. Continue with the roasting as I describe below.

The rosemary adds a sophisticated taste to this old favorite. It’s great in the summertime when blackberries are at their peak.

Being a kid from South Carolina, I always had fresh biscuits growing up. This recipe is as close to my grandmother’s as I could get without having a spiritual adviser. They’re big, fat, and light as a cloud, just like I remember them. The peach and rosemary spoon fruit adds a little contemporary twist.

Give yourself plenty of time to marinate the chicken; I usually do this the morning I plan to serve it. The smashed broccoli and garlic remind me of the soft, overcooked vegetables of my youth. It’s mushy and satisfying. To me, chicken and broccoli is a classic combination that doesn’t need rice or potatoes to go with—it’s perfect the way it is.

This focaccia adds onions, olives, and dried tomatoes to the top. Cut into bite-sized pieces, it’s a great appetizer. The dough mixes most easily in a food processor.

This is one of those bountiful braises that you make when you want to delight a big table of family or friends, offering them an assortment of tender meats and pasta dressed with the braising sauce. Like other slowly cooked braises, this gives you two courses from one saucepan. Serve pasta dressed with the meaty-tasting tomato sauce as a first course—there’s enough to dress 2 pounds of rigatoni. And then serve the pork, veal, and sausage as a second course. Of course, you don’t have to serve it all for the same meal. Use half the sauce to dress a pound of pasta, freeze the rest, and you have a future meal all ready to go. And after serving the ragù, take any leftover bits and pieces of meat, shred and chop them up, clean the meat from the veal-chop bone, and blend all of it in with any leftover sauce. I bet you’ll have enough sauce with meaty morsels for a lasagna or other baked pasta—yet another meal from that one big braising pan.

I love this dish, and you will, too—and your guests will be impressed. Set the table for a special eating experience, including a few scissors to pass around and a bowl for the parchment paper. Then present guests with closed, tempting packets: when they cut open the parchment, the sight and bursting aroma of savory-stuffed quail will fill them with anticipation, and they will dive right in. As an accompaniment, I would serve a bowl of hot polenta, farro, or wild rice, or a bowl of beans and black kale. Serve family-style, putting the bowl in the middle of the table, so everyone can spoon some onto the plate next to the quail.