Leafy Greens

A poached egg is easily cooked, incredibly nutritious, economical, and easily served at any meal. Poached eggs perched on a buttered toasted slice of tender bread is a perfect breakfast; a shimmering bowl of chicken broth served with an egg poached in it is a nourishing lunch that can generate a warm sense of well-being; and curly endive tossed in a warm vinaigrette with bacon and topped with a poached egg is a favorite dinner salad of mine—the egg enriching the vinaigrette as it coats the leaves. A poached egg is cracked from its shell and cooked in water, stock, or, sometimes, wine until the white has just solidified and the yolk has heated through. The poaching liquid should be very hot, but without any bubbles breaking the surface. This gentle still heat keeps the white tender and helps the egg keep its shape while cooking. Fresh eggs are best. A fresh egg cracked onto a plate has a thick, jellylike white that clings to the deep orange yolk, which stands up plump and high. As eggs age, their flavor dissipates and their whites thin out to the point of being watery at the edges, making it difficult to poach one with any success. Use a heavy pan for even heat dispersal, which helps keep the eggs from sticking to the bottom. If a heavy pan is not available, use a flame tamer. A relatively shallow pan will make it easier to remove the eggs from the hot water. I use a low-sided saucepan. Fill the pan with water 2 to 3 inches deep, add a large splash of vinegar, and put the pan over a medium fire. The vinegar speeds the coagulation of the whites, keeping them from billowing out into the water. Use good-tasting vinegar, as you will be able to taste it slightly. I add about 1 tablespoon to 4 cups of water, but if you particularly like the flavor of vinegar on your eggs (and it is delicious), add more. When poaching eggs in soup or broth don’t use the vinegar. Carefully, without breaking the yolks, crack the eggs into individual cups or small bowls. This way you can easily remove any fragments of eggshell and it will be easier to slip each egg gently into the water; and if you do break a yolk, you can set it aside for another use. When the water is very hot, but not bubbling, hold the cup right at the level of the water and carefully slide the egg in. This gentle entry into the water will help the egg keep its shape. After a minute you can gently stir the water a while to discourage the eggs from sticking to the bottom of the pan. Use care, though; the eggs are very delicate until the whites are set. Lower the heat if the water begins to simmer. The cooking time will vary depending on the number of eggs, their size, and the temperature they were when they went into the water. On average, a single large egg straight from the refrigerator will take about 3 minutes to cook. The white will be set but the yolk will still be soft; for a firmer yolk allow up to 5 minutes. Test for doneness by gently lifting the egg with a slotted spoon and pressing it gently with your finger to feel how set the white and yolk are. Carefully remove the cooked eggs and drain for a moment on a towel, blotting the top very gently to dry. When cooking for a crowd, freshly poached eggs can be kept for a few minutes in a bowl of warm water or stock while another batch is being cooked.

Minestrone means “big soup” in Italian: a big soup of many vegetables. In order for them all to be cooked through at the same time, they’re added in stages. First a tasty soffritto (a base of aromatic vegetables) is made, long-cooking vegetables are added and moistened with water or broth, and the soup is brought to a boil, at which point the more tender vegetables are added. Dried beans and pasta are cooked separately and added at the end. The recipe below is for a classic summertime minestrone, followed by seasonal variations. The soffritto can be made of onions only but often includes carrots and celery. Fennel can be substituted for the celery when a more delicate flavor is wanted. Garlic is always added at the end of the cooking to ensure that it does not burn. Be sure to use a heavy-bottomed pot and lots of olive oil. For a more hearty soup, let the soffritto cook to a golden hue; for a less robust version, don’t let the vegetables color at all. Either way, the vegetables should be cooked through to give the soup the full benefit of their flavors; this will take 10 minutes or more. They’re done when they look and taste good enough to eat on their own. The vegetables added after the soffritto—such as squash and green beans—are cut into pieces small enough to ensure that each spoonful of soup will contain a mixture. They’re added sequentially, according to the length of time they take to cook through without getting mushy. Greens need to be cut into bite-size pieces, too; if they’re cut in strips they can hang down and dribble hot soup on your chin or your clothes. Winter greens such as kale or chard take longer to cook and should go in with the first group of vegetables. Tender greens such as spinach will cook in just a few minutes and should be added towards the end of cooking. Salt the soup as it cooks; this will intensify and improve the flavor as a last-minute salting cannot. Dried beans—and pasta, if you’re using it—should be cooked separately before being added to the soup. Save the bean cooking liquid; it adds flavor and body to the soup. The cooked beans should be added during the last 10 minutes so they have a chance to absorb flavor, but not overcook. The pasta should be added at the very end so it doesn’t overcook and get bloated and flabby. To preserve its fresh flavor, the garnish of olive oil and cheese should be added to the bowls of soup, not to the pot. I always pass a bowl of grated cheese and a bottle of olive oil at the table.

For me, making a garden lettuce salad—washing beautiful fresh-picked lettuces and tossing them together with a scattering of herbs and a vinaigrette—is as much of a joy as eating one. I love the colorful variety of lettuces, bitter and sweet; the flavor and complexity of herbs such as chervil and chives; and the brightness of a simple vinaigrette made with red wine vinegar, olive oil, and a whisper of garlic, which highlights the lettuces and herbs without overwhelming them. For a salad to have flavor and life, you have to start with fresh, just-picked lettuces. I’m fortunate to have a small kitchen garden in my backyard where I grow various lettuces and herbs for salad, but if you don’t have such a garden it can take some real dedication to find good greens. Farmers’ markets are the best places to start. When my garden is not producing, or when I’m away from home, I shop for head lettuces and try to create my own combinations of lettuces, arugula, chicories, and whatever tender herbs I can find. I generally avoid the salad mixes, especially the pre-bagged ones, which usually seem to include one or two kinds of greens that don’t belong with the others. If there is a lovely mixture from a local salad grower, fine, but otherwise try to buy the best head lettuces you can find and make your own mix. Wash the lettuce, gently but thoroughly, in a basin or bowl of cold water. First cull through the lettuces, pulling off and throwing into the compost bin any outer leaves that are tough, yellowed, or damaged. Then cut out the stem end, separating the rest of the leaves into the water. Gently swish the leaves in the water with your open hands and lift the lettuce out of the water and into a colander. If the lettuces are very dirty, change the water, and wash again. Dry the lettuces in a salad spinner, but don’t overfill it. It’s much more effective to spin-dry a few small batches than one or two large ones. Empty the water from the spinner after each batch. Any water clinging to the leaves will dilute the vinaigrette, so check the leaves and spin them again if they’re still a little wet. I spread out each batch of leaves in a single layer on a dish towel as I go. Then I gently roll up the towel and put it in the refrigerator until it’s time to serve the salad. You can do this a few hours ahead. When the time comes, put the lettuce in a bowl big enough to allow you to toss the salad. If you have some, add a small handful of chives or chervil, or both, either chopped quickly or snipped with scissors. Toss everything with the vinaigrette, using just enough sauce to coat the leaves lightly, so they glisten. Beware of overdressing small, tender lettuces: they will wilt and turn soggy. I usually toss salads with my hands. (I eat salads with my hands, too.) That way I can be gentle and precise and make sure that each leaf is evenly dressed. Taste, and if needed, finish the salad with a sprinkling of salt or brighten it with a splash of vinegar or a squeeze of lemon juice. Taste again and see what you think, then toss one last time and serve the salad right away.

Melted and slightly browned Oaxaca cheese mellows out bitter cabbage for this wonderful side dish. My son loves this with a little bit of lime juice sprinkled over it, and I like the edges, where the cheese is crisp and almost charred. When cutting the cabbage, cut on an angle so that there is a piece of the core on each wedge; it will hold the individual leaves together. For an impressive presentation, create a lattice with the strings of cheese.

I have eaten more than my share of fish tacos while living in Baja. But the beach is a half-hour drive from my house, so I was on a mission to find a fish taco recipe that I could make at home—one that was as delicious and authentic as the taco they serve at my favorite Rosarito taco shack. This is what I came up with—and I’m happy to say it competes!

Frittatas are the perfect centerpiece for a brunch spread because they can be served warm or at room temperature. This one brings two classic brunch favorites—lox and eggs—together into one very attractive dish. Serving bagels on the side, though decidedly not Italian, is a nice option.

At Christmas time in Italy every visitor seems to show up with a panettone for his host, meaning most homes end up with lots of extra panettone. I’ve become pretty creative when it comes to finding new uses for this delicious, fruit-laden yeast bread. Bread pudding is one obvious possibility, but I once cut some up for croutons and thought they were sensational. Combined with candy-sweet roasted fruits and peppery arugula, they make a very sophisticated dish to serve with poached eggs for brunch or alongside grilled chicken or chops.

You always need a simple, elegant green salad in your repertoire. What I love are the buttery and cheesy crostini, so you get your healthy, leafy vegetable with a little indulgence.

I recently served this roast for the Thanksgiving holiday, thinking a departure from the usual turkey would be a welcome surprise—and it definitely was. The sweetness from the mustards absorbs into the meat, while the bacon keeps it nice and moist and adds a wonderful smokiness. Served over a lightly dressed fresh arugula salad, this will become a fast favorite—I promise.

Few things are more enticing than the smell of a chicken roasting, but for a special meal or a romantic evening such as Valentine’s Day, I like to serve game hens, so each person can have a whole bird of his or her own. It’s a beautiful presentation that is ridiculously easy to put together, and the pan juices, full of fresh citrus flavors, are especially delicious. If you prefer, though, you can easily make this with a large chicken; just increase the roasting time to 60 to 75 minutes, depending on its weight.

I don’t cook with jalapeño peppers often because I’m not a huge fan of spicy food, but when I was served grilled fish topped with a spicy pesto at a beach-side restaurant near San Diego, I loved the way the heat woke up the flavor of the fish. I thought it could do the same for pasta, and sure enough, it’s a great combo. Packed with spinach and arugula, this pesto is more condiment and less sauce than the typical basil pesto, and a bit lighter thanks to the substitution of walnuts for oily pine nuts. Fusilli is the perfect partner for any kind of pesto because the sauce gets trapped in the ridges so you get flavor in every bite. Serve leftovers of the dressed pasta with roasted chicken, fish, or beef.

Treviso is a leafy vegetable found all over northern Italy, especially around Venice. It looks like a cross between romaine lettuce and radicchio, whose burgundy color and slightly bitter flavor it shares. I like to wilt treviso and then add it to pasta with some creamy goat cheese to mellow its bitterness.

We should all be eating more dark leafy greens, but sometimes a side dish of steamed chard is a tough sell. Not so with this pasta, which is full of bright colors and flavors. If you’re not familiar with ricotta salata, it may remind you of feta cheese but with a milder flavor and creamier texture. This is a pasta dish I really feel good about eating, and with all those greens and the protein contributed by the garbanzos, it’s a complete meal.

These sandwiches are out-of-this-world fantastic! They’re my take on a tuna melt, complete with gooey cheddar cheese and a sweet-and-sour mayo, but with plenty of lemony tang and peppery arugula. Be sure to slather it on the bread generously before piling on the tuna steak, greens, and cheese to keep everything moist and delicious.

Oil flavored with sun-dried tomatoes and lots and lots of fresh herbs is the secret to these vegetarian sandwiches; I use it both as a marinade for the grilled veggies and also to moisten the bread. Creamy goat cheese smoothes out the sharp flavor of the tomatoes. This is perfect picnic food, whether you’re packing the sandwiches for the beach or as a reward after a long hike.

There are pasta sauces you can make in the time it takes the pasta-cooking water to come to a boil, and there are those that are really fast—those that can be made in the eight to ten minutes it takes to actually cook the pasta. This is one of the latter, one that boasts just a couple of main ingredients and a supporting cast of two staples.

A quick way to add great flavor to many simple dinner dishes is already sitting in your pantry or cupboard: anchovies. Anchovies are among the original convenience foods and contribute an intense shot of complex brininess that is more like Parmigiano-Reggiano than like canned tuna. Use them, along with garlic, as the base for a bold tomato sauce or combine them, as I do here, with greens, garlic, oil, and chiles for a white sauce that packs a punch.

It is pasta’s nature to be simple. I’ve long made a vegetable sauce by poaching greens such as spinach in the pasta water, then removing them and adding the pasta, a neat trick. But my friend Jack Bishop, author of Vegetarian Italian Cooking, mentioned that he’d gone one step further, cooking the greens right in with the pasta and adding seasonings at the last minute. The method relies on the fact that there is a period of two or three minutes between the moment when the pasta’s last traces of chalkiness disappear and the point where it begins to become mushy. If, just before the pasta is done, you add the greens, whose tough stems have been removed, greens and pasta will finish cooking at the same time. When making this dish and others like it, you must adhere to the often ignored canon of allowing at least a gallon of water per pound of pasta, because you need a pot large enough to accommodate the greens and because they cannot be allowed to slow down the cooking too much

There are a number of ways to make simple dishes of greens more appealing. Among my favorites is to prepare a topping of crisp-fried shallots. By themselves, these are irresistible; when combined with tender greens they create an alluring contrast in flavor and texture. Furthermore, the oil in which the shallots have been fried is a great addition to the greens and, in the days following, to many other dishes.