Food Processor

Farro is a wheatlike grain grown in central Italy (known as spelt here). Barley makes a good substitute; cook it the same way. Here it is combined with a simple pesto; it’s a lovely picnic or summer party side dish, with almost anything.

This is a magnificent rice dish, one that could overwhelm other dishes with which you serve it. Therefore, it’s best to give it its due and accompany it with a couple of grilled sausages or very simply cooked steak, chicken, or shrimp.

An unusual and quite useful plantain recipe, usually associated with Cuba. Like many soups, this one can be made in advance and reheated, though you’ll probably want to add a little more lime juice just before serving for freshness. See page 623 for information on plantains.

This unusual soup is popular in the Dutch Caribbean and the island of St. Kitts, where peanuts are called—as they are in much of the world—groundnuts. Though many groundnuts have a stronger flavor than American varieties, you can use any unsalted roasted peanuts—or even peanut butter—in this rich soup.

Brilliant orange pumpkinlike squash fill the vegetable stands of Morocco and most other Mediterranean countries every fall, and they show up in stews, couscous, pasta, and soups like this.You may find the same squash in the States, but butternut, acorn, or sugar pumpkin—pumpkin grown for flavor, not size—are perfect substitutes and easy enough to find. (Canned pumpkin is an acceptable if not ideal alternative; drain it well.) Make this up to a day in advance, reserving the cream and cilantro to add just before serving.

A dish that combines the style of Chinese soup noodles with the flavors of Indian curries. This version, made entirely with fresh ingredients, is probably superior to any you’ve had at a restaurant.

This is different from most garlic soups, not only for the addition of plenty of cilantro (parsley is more common, yet this is traditional, too) but also because the garlic-cilantro mixture is uncooked except by the heat of the broth poured over it, so it remains quite strong. If you have good beef or chicken stock, use it both to poach the eggs and as the base of the soup. And if you have an extra 5 minutes, don’t toast the bread in a toaster but brown it lightly in a skillet on both sides in olive oil—there’s nothing more delicious.

If you want a little crunch, process the soup without the green beans, then stir them back into the puree before serving. This is best served at room temperature, since heat will dull the mint’s bright flavor

Mangoes abound not only in the Caribbean but also, these days, in the United States. When they’re cheap (in Latin markets they’re often four for a dollar) there is no better use for them than this sweet soup, which can be served as an appetizer, especially in hot weather (or for dessert; see the variation). It’s also lovely at Sunday brunch.

This creamy soup is wonderful on hot days; pair it with tortilla chips and you have a great lunch. Unlike most avocado soups, which are cream based, this one features the sweetness of tomatoes and the bite of chiles. You can make this into a dip by adding another avocado or two and reducing the amount of stock to just enough to allow the mixture to be pureed. A nice touch is to use a third avocado, diced, as a garnish.

This is an unusual soup, with flavors that may mystify but undoubtedly will please your guests. It’s often served cold—and called a gazpacho—but I like it equally well hot.

Ignacio Blanco is a friend from Galicia, the northwestern corner of Spain. He taught me this delicious (and, yes, traditional, though it is cooked) gazpacho. Best made in August, when all these vegetables are at their peak.

Having eaten countless dishes called gazpacho—both in and out of Spain—I feel less an authority than anyone to define it. Some people would have you believe that all gazpachos contain soaked bread, and indeed many do. Some say it must have vinegar; but I’ve been served plenty of good cold soups called gazpacho that were barely acidic. Others call any cold, drinkable soup that meets the need for both food and drink gazpacho. (A chilled can of crushed tomatoes would meet this definition and, with parsley and garlic, wouldn’t be too bad on a hot day.) I do have a few rules of my own for gazpacho: First, try to avoid green bell pepper. Even if it looks nice, this under ripe fruit adds crunch at the price of bitterness; use red or yellow peppers instead. Second, the raw flavors of uncooked gazpacho really do seem to mellow when you allow them to meld for a few hours or even overnight; while not essential, this is a nice touch. And finally, sherry vinegar (or high-quality wine vinegar) is preferable to balsamic vinegar in gazpacho; not only is it more authentic, but its cleaner flavor provides better balance. See the next recipe for a more complex version of this classic. Or add some cumin or paprika to this one, use tomato or V-8 juice in place of the water, and add fresh herbs—especially basil—as you find them.

Borscht, like gazpacho, is difficult to define; there are more versions than you can count. But at least we know they all (or almost all, anyway) contain beets (it’s likely that the word borscht comes from the same root as the word for beet). And usually borscht is served cold. But it can be a vegetarian affair or a big meaty stew. The vegetarian version is usually served cold, while the beefy version is usually a hot winter dish. Here’s a fairly simple cold borscht with hot potatoes, a style I have made for thirty years (and first ate, at my grandmother’s table, before that). For a meaty borscht, see page 148.

Pistou is a garlic-basil paste almost identical to pesto—the names in fact are the same, just in different dialects. In France it’s used less to dress pasta than to thicken soups while heightening their flavor. Pistou is usually passed at the table so your guests can add as much as they like.

The key to good tapenade, not surprisingly, is good olives. I like the oil-cured kind for this, but they must not be too dried out or they become unpleasantly acrid, and no amount of olive oil can save them. So taste one before buying. (Regular canned black olives are fine too if you can’t find olives in bulk.) In Provence, considered its home, tapenade is used mostly as a spread for plain toasted bread or Crostini (page 41). But it’s also great as a dip for raw vegetables, on sandwiches of any type, or as a quick spread to put on meat or fish before roasting or after grilling or broiling. It will keep, refrigerated, for about a month; always bring back to room temperature before serving.

Parsley puree is almost universal, but this is the Spanish version, sharp, garlicky, and great with fish or any grilled meat. There are a couple of different ways to make parsley puree, and other herbs can be used in the same way (pesto is very closely related).

There is no definitive source for how to make romesco, the sauce served with Zarzuela (page 270) and many other Spanish seafood dishes (you can serve it with any simple fish dish you like). I’ve had it cooked and uncooked, and I like it better raw, which may be due in part to the lack of hassle, but I also like the fresher flavor. If you can find a fragrant dried chile, like a pasilla, by all means use it.

Essentially prepared homemade horseradish and powerful stuff. If you want to make it in quantity, that’s fine, but wear goggles (seriously). Even with small amounts, keep your hands away from your eyes until you have washed them well.

Classically used for Cochinita Pibil (page 351), this gorgeous, bright red paste can be smeared on any meat you’re about to roast or grill. Its color belies its flavor, which is not at all hot (though you can throw a chile in there if you like). Annatto—or achiote—is something you’ve probably encountered unknowingly, since it colors processed cheeses, margarine, and lipstick. The triangular, brick-colored seeds of the annatto tree have been especially important in the Yucatán peninsula and South and Central America for centuries; make sure the seeds you buy are bright red, smell earthy or musky, and taste slightly peppery. Whole seeds keep for a year or more in a tightly covered container.