Herbs & Spices

I grew up as that weird kid who disliked frosting and cake in general. But if it meant I could get one of those massive Valentine’s Day cookies in the window at Mrs. Fields, I was willing to endure any amount of frosting, icing, or similar childhood misery. You can use any cookie recipe in this book to make this fantastical creation, obviously, but I went ahead and developed a third chocolate chip version (in addition to the bakery standard in the first book and the Chips Ahoy! in this one) to mimic what is found in Mrs. Fields’s venerable kitchens. It’s big and it’s bold and it’s buttery. It’s practically a Toll House cookie, if that helps you imagine.

Who can resist a madeleine? They are so charming, so fair—so impossibly French. These Proustian delights have always appealed to the buttery fringes of my soul, and they’ve always acted as the perfect foil to the rebellious and messy attitude of my first love, the American chocolate chip cookie. Plus I get to whip out my handy madeleine tray, which I cherish wholly and completely. Get yourself one and be the envy of your baby girl’s bake sale.

This is a perfect example of using the exalted Sugar Cookie as a launching pad. Once you’ve fussed around with it enough, you begin to understand its dormant qualities. What if you asked your brain what would happen if you had the foresight to roll a butter-taste-based batter around in a cinnamon-sugar mixture before baking? If your brain, schooled in the ways of the Sugar Cookie, answered that you’d get a wonderfully wrinkly explosion of the Snickerdoodle variety, you and your brain are well on your way to total cookie enlightenment.

For the longest time, I might have been the only person in the tristate area completely oblivious to the beautiful oversize black-and-white cookies found in every bodega from Brooklyn to the Bronx. Have you had one? Me, I was never allowed because of my food sensitivities, of course. So when I went to the kitchen and started brainstorming ideas for iconic cookies, this was one of the first ones I tackled. Prepare to be bathed in the sweet comfort of vanilla-chocolate overload.

The slightest whiff of cinnamon and melted sugar is likely to send any lady into a nostalgic reverie for the food court of her youth. Today this recipe commands center stage at the bakery whenever we fire up a batch—no small feat considering the competition of fragrant apple muffins, nutty cornbread, and dozens of other aromatic samplings. You’ll find that BabyCakes NYC’s Wonder Buns have everything you’ve been missing for so long: that subtly sticky chewiness, the spicy pockets intermixed with the sweet streaks of joy, a dense but layered texture that is the stuff of dreams.

What better wintertime breakfast could there possibly be? The best part of this recipe, in my opinion, is that it delivers on all your gingerbread fantasies in a quick and easy way that sidesteps the comparative fuss of pulling together a full gingerbread loaf. Sheepishly, I’ll admit it here and now: I have been known, on occasion, to abandon the maple syrup and instead douse these with vanilla frosting or glaze . . . for breakfast. Give me the benefit of the doubt before you judge, please, and try it for yourself.

Cooking spaghetti squash in the microwave steams the squash and the strands come out nicely—unlike cooking it in a conventional oven, which can cause the strands to bake to the skin. A simple quick fresh pesto is a snappy sauce for the steamed squash.

A mirliton is a chayote squash or a vegetable pear. It is also the name for instruments in which a voice resonates over a membrane, as in a kazoo. The Carolina Chocolate Drops are bringing the kazoo back in style with their unique take on traditional jug-band music. I am mounting a campaign to bring the squash back too.

Honeybees get most of the attention, but squash bees do the most work. These busy bees crawl out of their underground nests and get going a good half an hour before the honey team when the squash flowers are in full bloom. Both the male and female squash bees set to the field work gathering nectar from blossoms, but only the females do double duty collecting pollen. Bees transfer pollen from the male flowers to the female flowers. The first several flowers of a plant are male and will not produce any fruit. By midday the squash blossoms begin to close and the bees return home. Get to work early like these busy squash bees and pick your squash blossoms early in the day. Squash blossoms filled with herbed goat cheese and fried with a crisp batter are an annual summer event thanks to the hardworking squash bees.

A tangerine, sometimes called “kid glove orange” because of the way its loose skin will slip off, has such a sweet, bright flavor when at its peak around November. This salad is fine-looking with light variegated shades of green set with vivid sections of citrus and golden challah croutons dusted with tarragon.

Agatha Christie said of her grandmother, “Although a completely cheerful person, she always expected the worst of anyone and everything. And with almost frightening accuracy [she was] usually proved right.” Her grandmother would say “I shouldn’t be surprised if so-and-so was going on,” Christie recalled. “And although with no grounds for these assertions, that was exactly what was going on.” Sounds just like my grandmother Elsie. Elsie fancied herself an adept armchair detective. She was thrilled when our neighbor was murdered. Wait—that might lend the wrong impression. She was saddened by the loss of life, certainly, but elated at the chance to do some sleuthing and speculating. She quickly deemed it a love triangle gone wrong, a day before the police figured it out. I can see her now, seated in her floral chintz wingback chair with feet propped on the hearth, reading a good mystery. I must say that on early dark winter evenings I find myself right there in her favorite wingback, set about my guilty pleasure of working my way through The New Annotated Sherlock Holmes, all 1,878 pages of it, with a plate of Elsie’s rarebit to sustain me.

We had lemon trees and mint all over our ranch when I was a kid. I don’t remember when I tasted the two together for the first time, but since then I’ve never liked lemonade any other way. For kids or anyone not drinking alcohol, it’s a fabulously festive and beautiful nonalcoholic treat. Or add a shot of rum or vodka to each glass and make a cocktail out of it!

I love the refreshing flavor and heat of fresh ginger and this soup shows it off beautifully, especially if you use the full three tablespoons of ginger listed below. It even causes a pleasant burn in the back of your throat. If you prefer a little less assertiveness, use just two tablespoons. Either way, keep in mind that ginger becomes more pronounced over time, so although the soup stores very well, the ginger’s bite will become stronger. Many recipes for carrot and other pureed vegetable soups call for toppings of one kind or another, but I really prefer to let the natural flavors of the soup and veggies shine through, so I skip them. You can always top with a scattering of whatever fresh herb is in the soup, though, which is very pretty and highlights the flavors already in the soup. Be sure to cook the carrots until they are very tender so that they’ll puree to a silky smooth soup.

My friends request this recipe more often than any other. I am often asked if it’s a family recipe. I take it as a compliment that people always seem so surprised to hear that I found it in a magazine when I was about twelve years old. I’ve made it so many times since then and it has evolved into what it is today. I think it’s so delicious—and popular!—because of its clear but very flavorful broth. So often tortilla soup is heavy, but this one is hearty without being unpleasantly thick. In fact, I make such a large batch because everyone always wants seconds and thirds. On the rare occasions that I’ve had leftovers, I’ve discovered that the soup keeps very well, and even gets better, stored in a tightly covered container in the refrigerator. The garnishes keep well stored in zip-top bags; keep the fried tortilla strips at room temperature and everything else in the refrigerator. When serving the second day, just place all the garnishes at the bottom of the bowl and ladle the soup over. I use two kinds of dried chiles—ancho and pasilla—because they add more depth and smoky notes to the broth. Use more or fewer chiles depending on how strong you want their flavor to be. For more on dried chiles, see page 96.

These are easy to make. The paprika adds a nice dash of bright color.

Harissa is a fiery Moroccan condiment that is typically made with a variety of chiles packed with deep flavor. Incorporating tomato into store-bought harissa mellows out the heat, making this sauce even richer and more versatile. Keep it in your arsenal to boost the flavor of scrambled eggs or roasted potatoes, or stir it into your favorite vinaigrette—and it’s absolutely amazing on pizza.

Like pesto, this no-cook green sauce can be used in many ways. It’s awesome spooned over grilled vegetables, fish, chicken, pork, and lamb or served as a dip for crudités or focaccia. The parsley sauce can be made ahead of time and refrigerated, but is best when blended at the last minute to keep the deep green color. It’s featured throughout the book in recipes from parsley croutons (page 175) and Roasted Cauliflower (page 186) to Creamy Parsley Dressing (page 87).