Herbs & Spices

This is it: pure vanilla flavor in a nice, creamy ice cream.

Use this technique to make infused oils with any soft herbs, such as tarragon, basil, and mint. I use herb oil as a garnish whenever I want an intense, concentrated herb flavor in a dessert. Think about serving strawberries and ice cream with a drizzle of black peppermint oil. Or drizzle some tarragon oil on a salad of tender lettuce and shrimp.

I’m not giving quantities here, since you can make as much as you like. Crystallized herbs bring a bright, sweet herb flavor to the plate when you use them as a garnish. You can follow the same procedure with rose petals, too; just make sure they are unsprayed, or pesticide-free.

I use a lot of vanilla beans in the restaurant, and I always reuse the pods, rinsing and drying them before storing. Sometimes they become a garnish (see page 186), but often I use them to make this perfumed sugar.

I make this garnish with the vanilla pods I have left in the restaurant from other desserts. I’m not giving quantities here, since it will all depend on how many vanilla pods you have on hand. (The photograph is page 178.)

The tang of crème fraîche works as a balancing agent in this vanilla-speckled cream, making it a great contrast to sweet things like fruit.

For all the years I’ve been working with Jean-Georges, I’ve had his legendary molten chocolate cake on the dessert menu. Finally, I decided I had to do something to make the cake my own, so I took it apart and put it back together with white chocolate and a good hit of vanilla. This cake isn’t molten; it’s much more a lush, custardy soufflé. I love combining citrus with chocolate, hot with cold. The frozen mandarin orange refreshes and cleanses the palate.

In this dessert, a grapefruit gelée gets poured over grapefruit segments, which brings a different flavor note out of the grapefruit. It’s important to add the zest at the end to avoid bitterness. The combination of grapefruit and tarragon is one I really love, but I also wanted to add something spicy. Ginger is a natural, since it enlivens the herb flavors and is intense enough to carry through the ice cream, which gives this dessert its great mouthfeel.

This dessert is a delicate balancing act showcasing the diversity of citrus. Each element supplies a different taste and texture: the creamy ice cream, the chewy grapefruit, the crispy sticks, and the airy curd.

When I go to the farmers’ markets in summer and see all the bounty, I start asking myself, “What can work with what?” and “What would balance that fruit?” Apricots and peppermint are both refreshing flavors. In this dessert, the mint livens the apricot, providing an herbal contrast to the natural sweetness of the fruit.

In this dessert, you get the same flavor twice but with different textures: creamy ice cream and slightly chewy strawberry leather. Fruit leathers are an ideal way to incorporate secondary flavors, like herbs, and making leathers is really easy.

Maybe I like rhubarb so much because I started eating it when I was a child; my mother’s strawberry-rhubarb pie is one of my earliest memories. And I love summer fruit soups; that’s something I learned from François Payard. So this combination is a natural for me. You need just the pod from the vanilla bean for this dessert, so if you have saved some used pods, now is the time to recycle. And you will need a whipped cream charger (see page 279) for the foam. You will have leftover consommé (which you can freeze) and foam; you simply can’t successfully foam less liquid than is in the recipe.

Mochi are sweet, filled Japanese dumplings that are served chilled. I’ve been fascinated by them from the first time I had one, but I’d always been told that they could be made only in factories. And since the commercial ones are artificially flavored and colored and filled with ice-hard ice cream, that didn’t surprise me. One day, I promised my friend David Chang of Momofuku that I’ d make fresh mochi for him. It became a mission. Once I learned how to do it, I found that it really wasn’t difficult at all to make the tender, sweet rice dough and flavor it naturally. And since I fill mochi with a compote, they’re fork-tender. The basil fluid gel is an ideal herbal foil to the compote. I use 2-inch demisphere molds when I make mochi, but I’ve found that an egg carton works fine. The secret to the dough is working quickly. This recipe makes twice as much as you need for the fourplay, but I hardly consider leftover mochi a problem. The mochi will keep for 1 day in the refrigerator.

Panzanella comes from the Latin word panis, meaning “bread.” This is another dish that illustrates Italians’ resourcefulness when it comes to leftovers: The key to this dish is the actually stale—not fresh—bread, which absorbs the flavors in the salad without falling apart and becoming mushy. In the sixteenth century, panzanella was made with just bread, oil, and vinegar. Tomatoes were introduced to Italy in the sixteenth century, but even then they only began to be eaten in the south, where they grew, two hundred years later. Now, of course, Italians all over the Boot love the tomato, and this salad is a staple everywhere.

Farro is a type of wheat that was an important component of the Roman Empire’s diet, but it fell somewhat out of favor when more refined wheat products became plentiful in Italy. You’ll still find it on a lot of Italian tables, though, and especially in soups and salads such as this one. Farro is available in Italian markets and gourmet grocery stores, but brown rice or barley could also be used in this recipe.

I often serve these tomatoes at room temperature, and believe me, it’s a real relief to be able to serve a dish to which you have to do absolutely nothing while your guests are in your home, other than put it on a plate. That’s truly Everyday Italian cooking.

In Italy, one of the most popular recipes for stuffed mushrooms hails from Liguria, the northern region that stretches along the Mediterranean coast (actually, the body of water here is called the Ligurian Sea) from the border of France all the way down to Tuscany. The capital of the region is Genoa, which on the one hand is the birthplace of pesto, and on the other is a port city where seafood is worked into recipes where you wouldn’t necessarily expect it. Like mushrooms, for example, which they stuff with salted anchovies, marjoram, and bread crumbs. That recipe is a little complex, so I’ve omitted the little fishes and simplified. This is not only a great side dish, but also the perfect antipasto for a casual get-together.

I freely admit that the tonnato preparation is an idea that takes some getting used to: It means that a meat, usually veal, is topped with tuna sauce—and it’s usually served cold. But before you say “Ugh” and turn the page, please give it a try. It’s really a wonderful combination of flavors. Instead of veal, I prefer the lighter taste of turkey paired with the relatively strong sauce, and I like this dish warm, not cold.

Roasting fish is easy and helps keep it moist, tender, and flaky. On Italy’s many coasts, it’s popular to cook fish whole—including tail and head, which is considered a delicacy for many types of fish. I can live without the heads, but I do like to stuff the fish for an added burst of flavor and aroma.

This classic Italian-American dish is a prime example of a versatile preparation—you’ll find Marsala recipes made with veal, pork, chicken, and even steak. Not surprisingly, the key is the Marsala wine, which for centuries has been one of the prized treasures of Sicily. It’s a fortified wine—like Portugal’s port or Spain’s sherry—and can be either sweet, which is the type used for cooking, or dry.