Rosemary

Just as the Neapolitans have their marinara, Romagnola cuisine also offers a savory, meatless tomato sauce as an essential pasta dressing. This version is made from fresh tomatoes—round, plum, or small cherry tomatoes can all be used—and cooks in the time it takes to heat the pasta water. A small amount of tomato paste is called for, and although you can omit it, I think it lends complexity to the sauce and makes it cling to the golden ribbons of tagliatelle so much better. This recipe makes enough for one batch of fresh tagliatelle, but if you have plenty of fresh tomatoes, you should certainly double the sauce formula and freeze half to use another time.

Even the girl who has it all could use an energy boost. Walnuts' protein will keep her going strong.

This is the best fried chicken, ever. There I said it. If it's not, then I want to try yours. I started paying attention to fried chicken in a serious way when I began work on the book Ad Hoc At Home. Ad Hoc is Thomas Keller's Napa Valley restaurant devoted to family meals. It offers one family meal each night, and everyone eats it. The fried chicken is so popular that it is served twice a week. Chefs Jeff Cerciello and Dave Cruz have tried all kinds of methods, mainly centering on the best crust. They decided that the trio of flour, buttermilk, and flour is best, and I agree. But the key here is the brine. Salt keeps the chicken juicy and seasoned, and also helps pull the rosemary deep into the flesh. So even after the rapture from eating the crust has passed, the flavor of the chicken holds you. This brine, like all brines flavored with aromatics, is best when you bring the ingredients to a simmer in all the water. But if you're like me, sometimes you'll be caught short and need to hurry things along. If you have a scale, you can bring half the water to a simmer with the other brine ingredients, let the aromatics steep for 20 minutes. Measure the remaining water as ice and pour the brine over the ice. Or simply combine the brine with cold water. Because so few people make fried chicken at home, I like to serve it to friends. Happily, it's a great do-head dish; the chicken will keep well for a couple of hours. You can fry it and then keep it on a rack in a 250°F/120°C/gas 1/2 oven until you need it. If you have a convection oven, use that feature to keep the crust crisp. The thighs will become delectably tender given the extra time in the low heat. Serve on a platter garnished with branches of deep-fried rosemary and grated lemon zest.

Thanksgiving is hands-down my favorite holiday. Bar Americain is open each year for Thanksgiving, and we typically serve about six hundred people before the day is over. No matter how many wonderful selections we offer on the abbreviated holiday menu, without fail turkey is the biggest seller—partly because people love it and partly, I think, out of a sense of tradition. This is the turkey that I serve at Bar Americain, with only the dressing and sides changing from year to year. This year I am pairing the all-American bird with all-American ingredients: wild mushrooms and Pinot Noir from the Pacific Northwest, figs from California, cranberries from Maine, bacon from Kentucky, and sweet potatoes from Georgia.

Fresh herbs abound here—as does niacin, an energizing B vitamin: One serving of salmon dishes up nearly 70 percent of your daily niacin needs.

Look for potatoes of similar diameter so that they line up easily when stacked. You should be able to get 3 to 4 slices from the Yukon Gold and red potatoes and 5 to 6 slices from each sweet potato. To make these stacks hot and spicy, add cayenne pepper to the barbecue spice blend. You can also slice an onion into very thin rings, coat with the same spices and roast alongside the potatoes. Insert a roasted onion slice between each potato slice.
Parve
Non-gebrokts

This aphrodisiac-laden mocktail comes from NYC's Museum of Sex and is a perfect way to set the mood on Valentine's Day. The recipe makes enough rose elixir and rosemary crystals for eight drinks; if you're making only two, refrigerate the remaining elixir and store the crystals in an airtight container at room temperature (both will last up to two weeks). If you're short on time, skip the rosemary crystals and use just the superfine sugar instead. To make the Shanghai Rose alcoholic, add two ounces of gin or vodka to each drink.

Any food historian will tell you that trying to track down the origin of a recipe is like chasing tadpoles. There are so many, and they all look alike. Even when you find what seems to be the original source, you can't necessarily believe it because adapting recipes is an age—old industry. Nonetheless, I thought I'd give the hunt a try with chicken Canzanese, an unusual recipe that ran in the Times in 1969. A Google search for "chicken Canzanese" yielded many results, a number of them facsimiles, or slight variations of the chicken dish that appeared in the Times. There's one on Cooks.com that's a close adaptation of the Times's recipe, another by Mario Batali on the Food Network's website and one by Anna Teresa Callen, the cookbook author and teacher, on her own website. Batali's and Callen's, which vary only slightly from the Times's recipe, are nearly word for word the same. Only one recipe that I found sourced the Times's recipe, which itself came from Ed Giobbi, a cookbook author, and was written about by Craig Claiborne. You can also find plenty of turkey recipes done in the style of Canzanese (Canzano is in the Abruzzo region in Italy), which refers to braised turkey, served cold with chopped turkey aspic. But chicken Canzanese, which is not mentioned in important Italian cookbooks like Le Ricette Regionali Italiane (Italian Regional Cooking), is completely different. When you make it, you understand why it's still kicking around after all these decades. After flash-brining the chicken, you throw everything into the pan at the same time—chicken, cubed prosciutto, sage, bay leaves, rosemary, garlic, chile, cloves, peppercorns, and wine—and end up with a dish that has the fragrance of Chinese steamed duck and the succulence of a Bolognese sauce. I sensed that it would be impossible to come to a conclusion about where chicken Canzanese originated (Giobbi's recipe was the earliest I could find), and this was confirmed as soon as I started calling people. Callen said she grew up in Abruzzo eating chicken Canzanese. Batali, who regularly credits people from whom he adapts recipes, said that he must have gotten his from Callen, and was apologetic about the borrowing. Giobbi, whose recipe came from a family friend in Abruzzo, suggested that perhaps Callen was influenced by him. When I asked Callen if there was any chance she referred to Giobbi's recipe when writing about her family's dish, she said, "Could be, very well." I didn't intend this to be an investigation—recipes are adapted all the time, it's one of the primary ways cuisines evolve—so I did not chase down the dozens of sites that appear to have copied Callen or Batali. One thing is clear, though: a good recipe has a thousand fathers, but a bad one is an orphan.

My friend Myriam Richard-Delorme in Paris is a great cook and she gave me this recipe. All you do is put a leg of lamb in a roasting pan with lots of cut-up tomatoes, onions, garlic, rosemary—and then pour honey over it to caramelize the lamb and tomatoes while they roast. Everything cooks in one pan and a few hours later I have the most succulent roast lamb, plus the tomatoes and pan juices become the vegetable and the sauce. OMG is it fabulous!

I'm pretty much a purist when it comes to martinis. I can't bring myself to imagine what's involved with Martini: The Game, a cards–and–dice game that makes each player a bartender working to whip up cocktail creations. My version of that game would be pretty boring: a bunch of gin cards, the occasional dry vermouth card, and a die that just says "olive" or "twist" on all sides. Not a fun game, but these ingredients do make a superior cocktail in my opinion! So I'm not big on martini variations, but this one minor twist on the classic martini simply adds a bit more herbal and savory character to the aromatics already present in the gin—a little more depth of character without going overboard. This cocktail will be best with a London dry–style gin. Some newer and small–batch gins—much as I love them—can have distinctive character that may or may not meld well with the rosemary. To ensure that the olives take on some of that savory rosemary flavor, they should soak for at least a day before mixing the martinis.

At a dinner at an Italian vinoteca, on the dessert menu was something I'd never seen before: ricotta-stuffed eggplant with candied orange and chocolate sauce. My curiosity piqued, I placed an order with the waiter, only to have him come back with "You won't like it. Order something else." Not one to be easily swayed from ordering an intriguing dessert, I ordered it in spite of his admonition, and you know what? I liked it—quite a bit, in fact. With that experience in mind, when I saw a fresh fennel cake on a dessert menu at a fancy three-star Michelin restaurant, I didn't hesitate to order it. I had high hopes and was ready for anything. But so was the waiter, who informed me as he set it down that if I didn't like it, he'd replace it with something else. He saw my expression after I took my first bite, and he briskly returned to the table to make good on his offer. Still, I do believe in giving a chance to things that are out of the ordinary, otherwise, how would we discover new flavors and tastes? I haven't gotten around to trying to come up with my own version of an eggplant dessert (and I'm not exactly chomping at the bit to come up with a fresh fennel one, either), but I've made these tomato jam-filled cookies many times and not once have I had to rush over to offer guests anything in their place.

I pair the pecorino with a homemade fig paste that takes a little while to make—only because you have to let the figs dry in a warm oven—but is an absolutely spectacular condiment. There's no point in making just a little, so the recipe makes about three times as much as you need here, but that's okay; if well wrapped, it keeps in the refrigerator for about 2 weeks and goes well with other cheeses, meats, and poultry.

When I was growing up, my mom would cut up fresh fruit and arrange it on a plate with a shot glass full of toothpicks. She would also toss fresh fruit with some orange or lime juice and sugar. Taking inspiration from her, I came up with my own version: lime, lemon, a little maple syrup, and an herb syrup with rosemary or mint.
Cut your fruit into chunks rather than into small pieces; I find that small pieces of fruit get mealy and mushy. Make the salad the morning you're going to serve it, but if you're determined to make it the night before, cut up the fruit, store it in separate containers, and then toss it together in the morning. Use whatever fruit you'd like (bananas, apples, berries—the possibilities are endless), but unless you're using the ripest, sweetest seasonal fruit, add a little sugar.

In his "A Tuscan Son" menu, Tony Oltranti serves Polenta with Franklin's Teleme as a smooth, soft base for his roast chicken. This recipe takes polenta in a different direction—cooked with sage, rosemary, and Parmigiano-Reggiano, the polenta is then cooled, cut into sticks, and broiled until the outer edges of the "fries" are golden and crisp, a fine contrast to the creamy interior. Serve them with a fried egg and a salad for a vegetarian lunch, or pair them with something saucy like chicken fricassee.

Though slightly unconventional, white wine works incredibly well with steak.

Rosemary's piney scent is so particular you could never mistake it for any other herb. A handful of sprigs (left over from Beef Sautéed with White Wine and Rosemary ) mingle with garlic to cast a spell over roasted potatoes, resulting in something that's just right on a winter night.

This is the classic country paella of Valencia, made with chicken and rabbit, and in snail season, cooked snails called vaquetas. Authentic paella should be made over firewood. Twigs from olive or orange trees are used for hot flames, and thicker logs are used for a slower fire. The trick is to have both at the same time, so that the meat and vegetables can be browned slowly, then the rice brought to the boil over the hottest part of the fire, then set over a lower flame. If you can't build a wood fire, a charcoal one will do. Valencian bachoqueta de herradura and Valencian garrofón (special green and flat green beans, respectively, from the region) were called for in the original recipe, but other green beans can be substituted, and cooked dried beans or lima beans can be substituted for the flat green beans. You can also have your butcher cut up the rabbit for you, if desired.

Haute ham and eggs! These appetizers are protein-rich, and cutting out the crust makes them incredibly low-cal.

Often thought of as savory ingredients, pine nuts and rosemary make an exciting, unexpected pairing in sweets. This play on a classic Tuscan dessert makes a nice ending to a fall or wintertime meal, be it simple or fancy. The fragrant, lightly sweetened whipped cream and the caramel tones of the filling seem to magically warm up a chilly day. You can candy a sprig of rosemary for a pretty garnish, if you like, or leave it fresh.

Bodino Stifado Me Praso Braises like this are perfect for meat with tough muscle tissue and tendons (which come from the part of the animal that works hard), a great example of poverty cooking. This less expensive cut of meat develops its own natural and luscious sauce as it cooks. You want a little marbling in the meat, because it melts down as you cook and adds a lot of flavor to the sauce. You can use brisket, shanks, shoulder—all fairly tough meats—but save the filet mignon for the grill or a pan. It takes a little time to cook and become tender, but it's a relatively easy setup, and once you get it onto the stove you don't have to worry about it for about an hour. So you can do your laundry, or walk the dog, or make a salad. A couple of days later, if you have any leftovers, you can shred the meat, then return the meat to the sauce and add your favorite pasta. The resulting dish is a Greek version of beef Stroganoff. The herbs are very important to the flavor development here, since I'm using water instead of stock, so use fresh herbs if possible.

Butterflied lamb cooks faster and more evenly, and is easier to trim of fat and silverskin, than a whole leg of lamb. A butterflied leg has more surface area than a whole leg, so there's more flavor from the marinade and the grill. The lamb can be marinated up to 2 days in advance.

In the land of milk and honey, injera may be the staple, but it is not the only kind of bread. In the morning, it's dabo—honey bread—that graces the Ethiopian breakfast table. Unlike the pancakelike injera, dabo is a European-style loaf that is typically slathered with shiro, a chickpea spread. It highlights one of the distinctive characteristics of Ethiopian cooking: sweeteners are very rarely used, but an element of sweetness is introduced through other means, such as sugary coffees and teas; tej, a syrupy honey wine; or this dense breakfast bread, which lends a gentle sweetness to the start of the day.