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Cottage pie is a dish for a crowded table of hungry souls. Or is it? (No. And it’s best eaten straight from the skillet.)
If you still have on-the-verge broccoli bits and stems in your fridge, that’s great. Don’t forget about any stale bread, either—combined with a few other things, a balanced and delightfully textured soup could be in your future. Old potatoes are great for frying and serving with a bright, springy smoked fish dip. And quickly-“candied” carrot scraps should be the crowning jewel on your sundae.
This is when I turn to recipes that showcase maple’s complex, magnetic sweetness—like, for example, these sweet, flavorful maple oatmeal almond cookies. They call to mind those little packets of “maple and brown sugar” instant oatmeal from my youth.
At the farmers market: tiny yellow potatoes, plump pink radishes, willowy stalks of asparagus, fresh baby carrots, some fresh basil, and a little bundle of chives. The plan was a big refreshing salad. But I changed plans, and instead, I decided to gently cook these early-bird vegetables to create a warming, but no less vibrant, springtime supper.
Around this time of year, while some might get swept up in an endless search for ramps, these recipes are less fleeting. If your peas are still frozen, your herbs are still dried, or your artichokes are still peacefully nestled in a can in your pantry, you can still put together these dishes that match the mood of the new season of growth.
When you get cheesecake on the brain, nothing else will do. I recently embarked on a quest for a much smaller cheesecake, more “fun-size” than “full-size.” My only rule was not to use any specialty baking gear like mini pans or ramekins.
Instead of labor-intensive deviled eggs, leave your eggs as they are, season them with salt, and add a dollop of something creamy like kewpie, crème fraîche, or homemade mayonnaise. From there, design a decadent bite with whatever ingredients you have on hand, from anchovies to cheese and crushed potato chips.
Once you have a batch of gently crisped rolled oats in your pantry, everything you make turns to golden sunshine. A simple toasting technique will unleash all sorts of new flavors and textures to transform your favorite breakfast (or any other meal) into something unique and delicious.
Vegetable purées = awesome pasta sauces. From cauliflower and kale to creamy sunchokes, noodles are upgraded when they’re packed with nutritious ingredients and flavors you might be less likely to expect.
The best way to ensure you’ll switch on the stove and grab a knife for a homemade supper is to trick yourself. To give yourself a leg up ahead of time. A little boost to avoid having to start from scratch. In the recipe here, that means a marinade.
A core childhood memory finds its place in an easy lunch.
Arnold Myint loves Thai food, and loves Southern food, and for him, the two aren’t “separate.” In this excerpt from his cookbook, Family Thai, Myint, who is also today’s podcast guest explains. (Plus: three recipes from the book.)
During a week alone in Bermuda, Mark learned (or re-learned) many things about cooking for yourself and just yourself every day: The necessity of repetition, the relative effort involved in cooking for one instead of two or four, the role that positive reinforcement plays in a cooking life, and the relationship of alcohol and salt.
Of course, there’s nothing morally wrong with going out to eat, and of course it can be fun, but the food that most of us eat when we do go out makes it a dangerous habit. Even with grocery stores nearby, Americans turn to burgers and fries before fruits and vegetables.
Pound cake is a perfect—and increasingly rare—expression of culinary clarity. It is what it is (butter, sugar, flour, eggs), and it is nothing more. It doesn’t need to be. The one exception? The simple addition of kefir.
I have played with oatmeal forever. I am sure I wasn’t the first person to combine it with cherry tomatoes and soy sauce, but I am equally sure I was the first to write about that, and it’s as winning a ‘recipe’ as I know. This is just as good, and even better in the winter, when there are no (real) cherry tomatoes.
Most of us have, hidden deep inside, at least a touch of American exceptionalism. Yet we routinely let other people—faceless schemers in skyscrapers or industrial parks—determine what we eat. Are we lazy?
I’m genetically unequipped to say no to crumb cake; I just don’t have it in me to refuse. But still, I believed there had to be a better version. And after some trial and error, I found it.
Keep “fresh starts” top of mind this year, with a variety of tasty, innovative vegetarian dinners.
A hundred years ago, you cooked and you ate. You didn’t claim to be a vegetarian or a carnivore or a locavore. There was barely any marketing, and national brands were nonexistent. Fat, carbs, protein weren’t bad or good; they were food. Hardly anything contained more than one ingredient, because everything was an ingredient. How did we get so off course?
