Herbs & Spices

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Paula Wolfert's book The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen. Wolfert also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. This Moroccan, main-course vegetable dish integrates marvelous components: preserved lemons, juicy tan olives, and well-spiced potatoes.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Joan Nathan's book The Foods of Israel Today. Nathan also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Nathan and Israeli cuisine, click here. I remember with pleasure the Turkish Spinach burekas we ate every Friday morning when I worked in the Jerusalem municipality. The ritual was as follows: Simontov, the guard at the front door downstairs, would appear carrying a bronze tray with Turkish coffee and the heavenly, flaky pastries filled with spinach or cheese, called filikas in Ladino. It is rare today to have such delicious burekas, in Jerusalem or anywhere else in Israel. Most of the dough is commercially produced puff pastry, much thicker and less flaky than the homemade phyllo used to be. A few places, like Burekas Penzo in Tel Aviv (near Levinsky Street), which has been making the pastries by hand in the Turkish style for more than thirty years, produce a close second to those I remember from my days in Jerusalem. Various Ladino names like bulemas and boyos differentiate fillings and distinguish a Jewish bureka from a Turkish one. If you can find the thick phyllo dough, that works well. Otherwise, try this. My fifteen-year-old makes and sells them for fifty cents a piece. They are great!

While I love a shrimp cocktail, this I think has a slight, elegant edge. The hot, green mustardy horseradish, the wasabi paste, is not so hard to find these days but you could always substitute a small dollop of Colman's English mustard in its place I suppose. Similarly, you could shred some little Boston lettuce should you have difficulty locating the Chinese leaves.

MAGIRITSA Editor's note: This recipe is excerpted from Aglaia Kremezi's book The Foods of Greece. To read more about Kremezi and Greek Easter, click here. Magiritsa is made with the parts of the lamb not used for the spit-roasted Easter lamb, which is usually very small (about 20 pounds). In the classic recipe, all the innards — heart, lungs, and so forth — go into the pot, but they do not really contribute to the taste. The flavor of the stock comes from the boiled head and neck, and the soup gets its distinctive taste from scallions, fresh dill, and the egg-and-lemon mixture. There are lots of different magiritsa recipes. A friend described to me the one her family prepared in Halki, a small island that is part of the Dodecanese. In her family's version, no innards were used because, in Halki as in all the Dodecanese, they do not roast the lamb on the spit but instead stuff it with rice and the innards. So in Halki's magiritsa, many lambs' heads were boiled to make a very tasty stock, to which egg and lemon sauce is added at the end. The heads were not boned, but as they cooked for many hours, even their bones became soft. Each member of the family got one head and ate it with the broth. No scallions or dill were added to the magiritsa. My recipe for Easter soup was given to me by my cousin's wife, Katy Kremezi, whose mother came from Smyrna (Izmir) in Asia Minor.

SALAT TIS LESVOV Editor's note: This recipe is excerpted from Aglaia Kremezi's book The Foods of the Greek Islands. To read more about Kremezi and Greek Easter, click here. From the first October rains up until the end of April, the greengrocers of Mytilini, the capital of Lesbos, sell each head of romaine lettuce tied together with two or three sprigs of borage (often with its little blue flowers), two or three scallions, several sprigs of peppery arugula, four or five sprigs of dill or fennel fronds, a few sprigs of peppery wild cress and either fresh mint or a little wild celery. Once home, these essential ingredients for the local green winter salad are thinly sliced and tossed with a simple vinaigrette. It's important to cut the greens at the last moment and to slice them very thin. If they are coarsely cut, the salad will taste different.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Charlie Trotter and Roxanne Klein's book, Raw.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Charlie Trotter and Roxanne Klein's book, Raw.

KITRINA KOULOURIA ASTYPALITIKA Editor's note: This recipe is excerpted from Aglaia Kremezi's book The Foods of Greece. To read more about Kremezi and Greek Easter, click here. I first saw these biscuits on Holy Thursday in Astypalaia (an island of the Dodecanese). In a bakery there I saw pan after pan full of yellow biscuits about to be baked for the second time. I thought they were the baker's specialty and asked if I could buy some. To my astonishment I learned that they belonged to the women of the village, who had brought them there to be baked. I was offered one to taste, and tried to figure out what was giving them their strange flavor. I had never seen or tasted anything like those biscuits anywhere in Greece. The week before Easter it is customary throughout Greece to bake Easter biscuits, but the ones I was familiar with were sweet and contained many eggs. These were savory — I could taste pepper in them — but I could not figure out the rest of the flavors. When I asked, I was told their main flavoring was saffron. In the fall, after the first rains, the women of the island climb the rocky hills of Astypalaia in search of the crocus flowers from which they collect about 1/3 ounce of saffron threads — enough to color and flavor the dough made from 28 pounds of flour that they usually bake. Astypalaian women don't like commercial saffron, believing that the saffron gathered from their own hills is best. And, of course, they are right. As I learned later, these saffron biscuits are found only on this tiny island. In Athenaeus, bread with saffron is described as one of the foods served during ancient symposia, but in modern Greece — although we now cultivate and export a lot of the precious spice — we use hardly any saffron in our cooking. I believe that this recipe must be a very old one, and that is the reason it contains no sugar. The women of the island keep the tradition and bake a lot of these yellow biscuits every Easter. They send some to their relatives in Athens and keep the rest in large tin boxes to eat with fresh farmer's cheese or with their coffee for the rest of the year. Adjusting the recipe given to me by Virginia Manolaki for 8 cups of flour was quite an ordeal. Commercial saffron seems to be weaker than the Astypalaian variety, so I had to use more. Finally, I came up with the version that follows, which is very near the real thing. Serve the biscuits with fresh cheese or with coffee.

Every Israeli has an opinion about falafel, the ultimate Israeli street food, which is most often served stuffed into pita bread.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Paula Wolfert's book The Slow Mediterranean Kitchen. Wolfert also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. In Morocco, this thick puree of greens with herbs and olives is made with a local mallow leaf called baqqula. My equivalent is a combination of greens: spinach or chard, celery, cilantro, and parsley, cooked down to a luscious, thick, dark jam perfumed with spices and heady with smoky tones. In Morocco, our housekeeper, Fatima, prepared this jam in a shallow clay tagine set over charcoal embers. As a result, the greens developed a smoky flavor. I use readily available Spanish pimentón de la Vera to infuse a similar smoky quality. The greens are first steamed over boiling water to preserve flavor and color, then they're slowly fried in a skillet until all the moisture has evaporated. Greens cooked this way become quite delicious. The addition of some chopped oily black olives improves the texture. The jam will keep for up to 4 days. When you wish to serve it, simply thin to a spreadable consistency with water and olive oil and use as a spread or dip. It goes especially well with an earthy flavored semolina flatbread baked on stone or cast iron.

Editor's note:
This recipe is adapted from chef Joseph Poon. He also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Poon and Cantonese cuisine, click here. In Hong Kong, the Cantonese have developed what are called Hong Kong-style coffeeshops, which serve Western foods with a Cantonese interpretation. In this easy fusion recipe, chef Poon offers a classic example of what might be found in one of these shops — a Western dish with the surprising flavors of cilantro and ginger.

ARNI GEMISTO ME HORTA KE FETA Editor's note: This recipe is excerpted from Aglaia Kremezi's book The Foods of the Greek Islands. To read more about Kremezi and Greek Easter, click here. This recipe comes from Andros, and it is one of the most delicious ways to cook a whole Easter spring lamb or kid. The various spring wild greens on the island, seasoned with fennel, mint and other aromatic herbs, together with the local slightly sour fresh cheese, are used to make the stuffing. In my version, instead of a whole tiny lamb, I use a shortened leg of lamb (shank half) partly boned, to make room for the stuffing. The result is quite different but equally enticing. Serve with Roasted Potatoes with Garlic, Lemon, and Oregano.

Chimichurri This recipe is excerpted from Shirley Lomax Brooks's book Argentina Cooks! We've also added some tips of our own below. Chimichurri is an absolute requirement for the famous Argentine asado or barbecue. The recipe for chimichurri that follows is only one of many, but it is typical of those you will find in the Pampas. Some locals use it as a salad dressing as well. And don't limit your chimichurri to asado; serve it with any broiled or roasted meat or poultry.

Jhinga Mangaloree This dish is from the southern Indian coastal state of Karnataka, where seafood is an important part of the diet. The shrimp has extraordinary flavor. I sometimes vary the recipe by adding 1 1/2 tablespoons unsweetened shredded coconut along with the mustard seeds, or 2 to 6 chopped small fresh green chiles with the scallion. Serve with green chutney or lemon wedges, lemon rice, and a raita.

If you have a nice sharp chef's knife, this is a breeze. (Or if you don't, you should buy a sharpening stone, and you'll never have blunt knives again.) The idea for this recipe came about when we were catering a HUGE job on a TINY budget. They wanted tuna tartare, but I knew it would be expensive, and it's best eaten soon after it's made or it starts to get all gummy. Gravlax, on the other hand, needs at least a couple of days to cure, so I decided to use diced salmon instead of tuna, for economy, and to marinate it with our gravlax spice mix a day before the event, freeing up the chefs for other last-minute things. In my test run, I added orange zest, thinking, isn't orange good with salmon? Normally you would put something like this on a cucumber slice and that would be fine, but the juniper in the marinade suggested potato, so we served it on a slice of crisp potato, and it was ravishing in the extreme. The potatoes can be made ahead of time too, as long as they're cooked until they're completely crisp and stored in an airtight container until you need them. Any potato not cooked all the way through will soften the others; if that happens, pop them all in a 350°F oven for five minutes, or until they've crisped up again. The salmon can be sticky, so use two teaspoons to put it on the potato. I could never remember of which there was more in the gravlax cure, sugar or salt (since in the basic gravlax recipe one is three tablespoons and one is four). So after years of irritably looking up such a short recipe, I decided to THINK for a second and realized salt has four letters so salt is the four tablespoons. Welcome to my world.

Mango Chutney is the one we think of as the "original" and most traditional of all chutneys. It goes well with curries, chicken, pork, lamb, and game.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from David Bouley, Mario Lohninger, and Melissa Clark's book East of Paris: The New Cuisines of Austria and the Danube. Lohninger also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Lohninger and Austrian cooking, click here. David Bouley: Mario and I wanted to put fresh herring on the menu, but we couldn't find a consistent source for the best product from the North Sea. So we came up with this dish using mackerel, an underused fish in this country. When you marinate the raw mackerel, it becomes very mellow in flavor. It's a clean-tasting fish, not a bit "fishy" or strong. We marinate the mackerel in Bibb lettuce and cucumber juices, then mix it with beet and apple for sweetness and a little crunch. It's both light and refreshing.

Jalapeño peppers and a double hit of mint liven up traditional mint jelly. Try it with crackers and cheese and with lamb or chicken.

Crumbly and melting, easy and irresistible, at the catering company, we keep the dough for this shortbread on hand in the freezer for in-house treats and for extra hors d'oeuvres or snacks for a party that balloons at the last minute. I first tasted this shortbread when my friend Gail Monaghan passed it around in a silver basket before a dinner party at her house. I took one bite and said, "OK, where's the pen? Hand over the recipe (there was a "please" implied): this is amazing and I need to put this in my book." She very angelically wrote it out nicely, and here it is.