Sauce

We love the bit of heat and piquancy that is added by the Lime Pickles in this recipe. You can also buy prepared lime pickles if you’re in a pinch. This hollandaise can be substituted for regular hollandaise in almost any preparation where you want to change things up a bit. It is wonderful with vegetables, as a sauce for steaks and chops, or paired with steamed or grilled whole fish like snapper or branzino. Of course, the real star is the nutty flavor of the brown butter. This hollandaise sauce is so good you could just eat it with a spoon.

Maple vinegar is a favorite of ours for its rich, nuanced flavor. Our version is not a product that can be found commercially, so there is a real reward in trying this recipe at home. Once you have it in your pantry, you’ll easily find many different uses for it. It’s wonderful drizzled over roasted squash or balanced with a touch of cayenne and butter and brushed over corn on the cob or a roasted chicken. It’s amazing simply spooned over a rich, runny piece of brie, accompanied by crisp apple slices, or blended with diced apples and jalapeños as a condiment for meat or game. It also makes for a surprisingly balanced maple martini when combined with ice-cold gin or vodka. The possibilities are endless.

I love this chunky applesauce for its texture and the fact that it uses grapes as a sweetener. The key is good, flavorful apples. Take a bite out of one of the apples to determine the tartness.

The first time I ate asparagus the correct way was as a student in Paris in the 1960s. Whenever I had lunch with Renée and her husband, Camille Dreyfus, a doctor who was the physician to Charles de Gaulle, I was confronted with the complexities of elegant French dining. Luckily, their butler, probably having pity on me, helped me navigate the many knives and forks, finger bowls, doilies, etc. Because a huge flower arrangement usually sat at the center of their round table, I couldn’t see how the Dreyfuses ate . . . and, fortunately for me, they couldn’t see how I ate. Once, during the asparagus season, the butler served me white-asparagus spears, which I ate with my fork, cutting them as daintily as I could. To my surprise, Dr. and Madame Dreyfus, the most proper people I knew in Paris, gingerly ate the spears, one by one, with their fingers. They then washed their hands in the finger bowls. Years later, I ate dinner in Strasbourg at the home of Pierre and Martine Bloch at the start of the local asparagus season. The minute I entered their apartment, I could smell the asparagus being steamed in the kitchen. Then Martine shared her trick for cooking white asparagus: put a little sugar in the water, to bring out the flavor.

This typical Alsatian mustard sauce is served with pickled or smoked tongue or pickel-fleisch; it has been eaten with fresh and salted meat or fresh and dried fish for centuries by the northern Jewish communities in France.

According to the Talmud and the French sage Rashi, beets, fish, and cloves of garlic are essential foods to honor the Sabbath. French Jews also use horseradish, sliced as a root or ground into a sauce, and served at Passover to symbolize the bitterness of slavery. It was probably in Alsace or southern Germany that the horseradish root replaced the bitter greens of more southerly climes as the bitter herbs at Passover dinner. For hundreds of years, local farmers would dig up horseradish roots and peel and grate them outdoors, by their kitchens, making sure to protect their eyes from the sting. Then they would mix the root with a little sugar and vinegar and sometimes grated beets, keeping it for their own personal use or selling it at local farmers’ markets. In 1956, Raifalsa, an Alsace-based company, began grating horseradish grown by the area’s farmers in the corner of a farm in Mietesheim, near the Vosges Mountains. A few years ago, Raifalsa, still the only manufacturer of prepared horseradish in France, agreed to produce a batch of kosher horseradish. They had the rabbi of Strasbourg come to the factory to supervise the operation, which resulted in the production of six thousand 7-ounce pots, all stamped with a certification from the Grand Rabbinat de Strasbourg. Before grating the horseradish, just remember to open a window and put on a pair of goggles.

I have always thought that the best part of fish soup is the rouille, a peppery, garlicky sauce that is slathered on toasted rounds of baguette and floated on the surface of the soup. I also like to stir some rouille into the broth. Similar to the Provençal aioli, a garlic-flavored mayonnaise, rouille is flavored with hot pepper and saffron, which give it its signature rust color. (Rouille literally means “rust” in French.) Today I have noticed that North African Jews often spice up their rouille even more, by adding a little harissa (see page 33) to it. Traditionally, a mortar and pestle are used to pound the garlic, pepper, and egg yolk, gradually incorporating the oil to make a mayonnaise. Today it is easy to put everything in a food processor and slowly add the oil, drop by drop. Leftover sauce is good on sandwiches or as a dip.

What is required here is not a cream that one can go out and buy. This “cream” is really a kind of pudding or kheer, thickened by boiling milk down, not by adding starch to it. In order to take some of the labor out of the process, Indians have taken to adding condensed milk. This works very well indeed. This is a thinnish cream, ideal to serve with fruit. I put the cut-up fruit (mangoes, guavas, pears, peaches, and bananas are ideal, but I have used berries as well) in individual bowls, or in old-fashioned ice cream cups, and then pour the flavored cream over the top.

This simple sauce is perfect for spooning over fried fish, fried chicken, grilled meats, and any kind of kebab.

Eating a karhi is really a way of eating heated yogurt. Because yogurt would curdle into unappetizing blobs if it were to be just heated up, it is stabilized with a flour first. In India, where there are many vegetarians who know that a bean, a grain, and a milk product can make for a balanced meal, it is chickpea flour that is used. Known variously as garbanzo flour, gram flour, chickpea flour, farine de pois chiches, and besan, it is very nutritious as well as full of a nutty flavor. Karhis are cooked over much of India with many interesting regional variations. This yogurt sauce, spicily seasoned and quite scrumptious, is either poured over rice or put into individual bowls and eaten with whole-grain flatbreads. Meats and vegetables are often served on the side.

Although this is not a pickle, I am including the recipe because it is a very useful sauce to have at hand when required, and it can be prepared in advance and stored in jars. It keeps for months if the surface remains covered with a film of oil.

Serve this Persian sauce, which has an unusual tart flavor, with plain rice steamed in the Persian manner (page 338) or the quick and easy boiled and steamed rice (page 339).

This is one of the most popular sauces in Iran and a favorite of mine. Dried limes and the herb fenugreek give it a unique and delicious bitter-sour taste. Flat-leaf parsley, chives, and in some versions dill and cilantro complete the symphony of flavors. Fresh fenugreek can be found in Iranian and Oriental stores in the summer, and packets of dried fenugreek leaves are available the year round. Only a little is used, because it is very powerful. The dried limes can be found in Oriental and Indian stores in various forms, whole, broken into pieces, and powdered. To make them yourself, see page 44. If you can’t find the powdered one, add an extra whole one. Serve with plain rice steamed in the Persian manner (page 338) or the quick and easy boiled and steamed rice (page 339).

An exquisite specialty of Damascus in Syria to serve over 1 1/2 cups rice, cooked by any method for plain rice (pages 337–339).

A popular way of serving kibbeh nayyeh, which makes it more of a grand dish, is with this ground-meat sauce. Veal is popularly used.

The dish takes its name from the Ottoman pasha who administered Mount Lebanon in the nineteenth century. Serve with rice or mashed potatoes. The meatballs are usually fried, then cooked in a tomato sauce, but baked this way they have a light, fresh flavor.

This dish is uniquely Turkish, and was developed in the Ottoman palace kitchens. A current legend surrounding the name of the dish, which means “sultan’s delight,” places it in 1869, when the Sultan Abdul Aziz entertained Empress Eugénie, wife of Napoleon III, in his white rococo palace of Beylerbey, on the Asian side of the Bosporus. The Empress was ecstatic about the creamy eggplant sauce which served as the bed for a stew and asked for the recipe to be sent to her cooks. The Sultan’s cook explained that he could not give the recipe, because he “cooked with his eyes.” Serve it with rice.

Fesenjan is a famous Persian sauce for rice with stewed duck. I love the sauce, which has a special sweet-and-sour flavor from pomegranate molasses (rob-e nar), but I don’t like stewed duck, so I roast the duck instead.