Lemon

I never thought I liked lemon desserts. Then one summer, while visiting friends in the little French village of Hyères, I experienced the most sublime marriage of lemon and butter, in the form of a humble lemon tart. It came from a pastry shop called Le Pâtisserie des Artisans, and I was too shy to ask them for the recipe. So I vowed to myself that I would research every lemon tart recipe I could get my hands on until I found one that came close. Finally, I found this version in an old cookbook called (roughly translated) Secrets of the Best Restaurants of France. It is different from any other I’ve tried, and captures the sunny flavors I can still taste in my memory. I’ve since returned to Hyères and tried to find that pastry shop (I remember it was near the outdoor market), but I think it closed. Too bad—I would have liked to tell them about my epiphany.

Think there’s no way to improve upon perfectly roasted chicken? Think again. At Herbsaint we would have to appoint someone to guard the pans while these birds cooled, or they would all end up wingless! In this recipe, the addition of rosemary, garlic, lemon, and olives perfumes the meat and suggests a world of accompaniments: steamed artichokes, just-cooked angel hair pasta, fluffy couscous, a salad of pungent greens with crusty bread for sopping up the juices. When it comes to wine, consider serving a rosé or a white from the Rhone valley.

One of my first memories of New Orleans was gathering the pecans off the ground at the naval base where my father was stationed, then sitting around a table with my family at night, watching Adventures in Paradise and shelling the seemingly bottomless pile. We had nutpicks, silver utensils with curved sharp tips, for digging out the tiny pieces of shell trapped in the crevices of each nut meat—talk about tedious! But I was always proud to have the cleanest and choicest halves to offer up for my mom’s approval. I was surprised when I went to France to cook at the jazz festival in Nice and learned that I had to bring my own pecans to make pecan pie (the nuts are not indigenous there)! It followed, then, that I would use local nuts to create this New Orleans rendition of the more classic Trout Amandine.

Pungent and concentrated in flavor, preserved lemons are popular in Moroccan and Middle Eastern cooking. To use them, pull the lemon flesh away from the rind and discard. Give the rind a brief rinse in cold water, then dice or chop and add to a dish at the end of cooking. I use preserved lemons in my Artichoke Dolmades with Lemon Sauce (p. 20). They also add a distinct flavor to couscous and cracked wheat salads. You’ll want to use them sparingly (a tablespoon or two is typically enough) so they don’t overpower other flavors. This recipe doubles or triples easily.

This incredibly simple, delicious sauce is great with Hibachi Souvlaki (p. 164), Turkish Stuffed Eggplant with Spicy Lamb and Rice (p. 280), and good ol’ falafel sandwiches. Double the batch for parties and backyard barbecues (it’s great on lamb burgers and grilled merguez sausage, too). It keeps well in the refrigerator for a couple of weeks.

Adapted from The Royal Oak Restaurant and Pub. I fell in love with this creamy sauce when I first tasted it back in 1970 at the Royal Oak Pub in New Orleans, owned by Mr. and Mrs. John Newsham. They used to serve it with fried eggplant, and it is one of those texture and flavor combinations that I will never forget: the crisp eggplant nestled into the nutty, garlicky puree (as thick and luscious as butter-cream). Later, when I became a chef, the Newshams were big supporters of my career and even shared with me two of their family recipes, including this one, after Mr. Newsham passed away. I will always be grateful to them for the many food memories, and for their kindness.

Here’s a great way to use a small amount of smoked salmon to good advantage. Fresh herbs and lemon brighten the taste, and the cream cheese acts as a medium to carry the rich flavors. I love to serve this spread on toasted pumpernickel bread, atop tiny baked fingerling or new potatoes as an hors d’oueuvre, or as an open-faced sandwich with thin cucumber slices and watercress.

Just in case you’ve been wondering what to do with that walnut oil that someone gave you for Christmas …

Don’t let your opinion of dolmades, stuffed grape leaves, rest on the ubiquitous canned versions, which are tasty but forgettable. Take the time to make these and you’ll be rewarded with a fragrant house and a satisfying savory snack for a party or simply for having on hand. Unlike most other versions I’ve had, this filling is brightly flavored and packed with aromatic ingredients—I add artichoke hearts, preserved lemon, and golden raisins. Pine nuts give these little guys a pleasing crunch, and I love the briny, herbal flavor that the grape leaves impart while they cook—this is the process that forms the sauce—in the lemony liquid.

For a dinner party, you can present these cakes on a cake stand garnished with fresh berries.

Lemon slices help keep the fish fillets moist during cooking. For a simple sauce, we combined lemon juice, white wine, and butter.

Basting the chicken with lemon juice while it’s on the grill gives it a tangy taste. For the marinade, steeping the rosemary in hot water intensifies the flavor of the herb.

Baking the desserts in a hot-water bath keeps them creamy and custardy beneath their golden, cakey tops. Lining the roasting pan with a dish towel helps the water circulate under the cups for even cooking.

Though French by definition, these delicate and lemony crêpes are an American tribute, boasting a sweet filling of tart, silky lemon curd and a juicy blueberry compote. The black currant–flavored crème de cassis contributes a sophisticated undercurrent of berry flavor to the compote and enhances its deep purple-blue color. Just as a stack of blueberry pancakes is made that much better by a melting pat of butter, a drizzle of browned butter enhances this dish with its nutty richness.