Lemon

These cookies are like supersized biscotti, but, unlike biscotti, they’ve never gained wide acceptance outside their native Italy, probably because their name is a bit more of a challenge to pronounce. Thankfully, they’re just as easy to make, and every bit as good.

I almost started an international incident when I put some pictures of my black and white cookies on my blog. People went ballistic because I didn’t include a recipe. The problem was that I didn’t know who to credit since my recipe is culled from a variety of sources. Like New York City, the spiritual home to these cookies, my sources and inspiration for them are the ultimate melting pot: a Seinfeld episode, an email from food maven Arthur Schwartz, a recipe from the legendary Zabar’s, and George Greenstein’s comprehensive tome, Secrets of a Jewish Baker.

Recipes aren’t written in stone, which is a good thing (literally speaking), because lifting a cookbook would be a Herculean chore, and because (figuratively speaking), I love to tinker with recipes and am always thinking of ways to improve them. Lemon has always been one of my favorite flavors of frozen yogurt, as I like things that are tart and tangy. But I often wondered how some commercial lemon ice creams and frozen yogurts got that extra zing that homemade batches lacked. The answer came to me when I was in an ethnic spice market and saw little bags of citric acid crystals. I brought some home and did a test, adding just a few granules to the frozen yogurt mix before churning. When I dug my spoon in, I realized with the first taste that I’d found exactly the flavor I was looking for.

One late summer weekend, I was visiting a friend who lives in the wilds of Northern California, and I noticed lots of wild blackberry bushes with berries that were so plump and ripe that they were practically falling off the branches. I can never resist free food, so I set out for an afternoon of heavy picking. When I came back, my basket loaded down with fresh berries, my friend casually asked, “Did you see the rattlesnakes?” “Um . . . no, I . . . I didn’t,” I replied. Actually, I was really glad to have missed them. That incident didn’t quite scare me away from picking other types of fruits and berries, but I’ll let others risk their lives for blackberries, which I’ve been happy to plunk down money for ever since that day.

There were quite a few things I missed about the Bay Area when I packed up my bags and moved to France. Burritos, bean-to-bar chocolates, and “centered” people were some of them. Okay, I didn’t miss the centered people. But I was surprised at how much I missed Meyer lemons, which are sweeter and more perfumed than regular Eureka lemons. Their vibrant, deep yellow color makes other lemons pale in comparison. If you’re lucky enough to know someone with a Meyer lemon tree, you’re likely to be handed a large sack of them when the fruits are in season. Some greengrocers and specialty markets now carry them, too. Otherwise, you can use regular Eureka lemons in this recipe, but increase the sugar to 1 cup (200 g).

When I worked as a pastry chef, I became known as “the crème brûlée bully” because I decided one night that I had had enough of crème brûlée and stopped serving it altogether. The reason? It was all that was ever ordered, and everything else on my menu went ignored. I realize now that I should have been flattered that guests liked my crème brûlée so much, and I apologize to anyone who left the restaurant feeling denied their favorite dessert. As reparation, I offer this recipe for lemon-ginger crème brûlée, the most popular flavor of the many that I’ve made, and hope I’m forgiven.

I think there are two types of people in this world: the lemon people and the chocolate people. This recipe is for the lemon people. But if you want to try to please both, you could add a scant 1/2 cup white chocolate chips to the soufflé base when folding in the egg whites.

I never would have thought of pairing white chocolate with lemon. My first taste of the combination was in the form of a slice of a towering lemon pie with white chocolate sauce at a restaurant in San Francisco. The second was in a filling made of the two enrobed as a neat square of chocolate at Theo Chocolate in Seattle. I didn’t need any more convincing that the pair is delicious match. My third experience with the combination was making these tartlets, and they were a charm as well. Although I’m happy to share my recipes, I’m not so big on sharing desserts, so I made these tartlets in individual portions. You can swirl each plate with the white chocolate sauce or, if you’re better at sharing than I am, you can pass a bowl of it at the table.

This is the dessert for lemon lovers. It’s light, but supersaturated with lemon flavor. Semifreddo usually refers to a dessert that’s partially frozen, but this cake layered with lightened lemon curd was christened “semifreddo” by the Italian American chef at the time at Chez Panisse. I don’t know about you, but I find it pretty hard to win an argument with an Italian, so I let the name stick. I based this recipe on the lemon semifreddo that one of my colleagues, Linda Zagula, made at the restaurant. It was not only popular with the customers, but with me, too—I couldn’t resist sneaking a mouthful every so often. And from the scraped-clean spoons I’d find hidden in the pastry fridge after all the guests had gone home, I knew I wasn’t the only one.

This is a wonderful all-purpose topping for cakes, fresh fruit, granola, and more. Though the taste is rich and velvety, it’s actually low fat and packed with protein as an added bonus.

I love lemon desserts. But lemon meringue pie was strictly off-limits to me since typically it’s all sugar. Not this one. It features a flaky, tender whole grain crust with a tart and tangy lemon filling topped with mounds of fluffy meringue—and not a single drop of sugar. Truly a lemon lover’s dream. The meringue may weep a bit after refrigeration, but this will not affect the taste or texture of the pie.

This blueberry topping can also be used over ice cream or yogurt.

The texture of this cake is that of angel food cake, but made with whole grains, it has more substance than the white version.

I love all things lemon. The barley and oat flours used in this recipe create a nutty crust that complements the tart, soufflélike topping—perfect with a cup of green tea.

These irresistible cookies are so versatile. For something special, fill them with peanut butter and juice-sweetened jam to make a cookie sandwich. Dip half the sandwich in chocolate ganache and place on waxed paper–lined baking sheets to firm up the chocolate. There’s only one word for this—outrageous.

Drizzles and dollops are very helpful for people who are dealing with impaired taste buds as a result of treatment. Drizzles are a bit like Roman candles; they light up the palette. They’re lighter than dollops, but don’t be fooled; the parsley in this drizzle is like a whiff of pure oxygen. It’s that energizing.

Like the Cilantro Lime Vinaigrette, this recipe works wonderfully with salads or as a quick way to dress up fish or meat. The lemon kick makes this a great partner for My Family’s Favorite Chicken (page 111).

“Simple is as simple does,” said Forrest Gump, and when it comes to cooking, I heartily agree. This drizzle is a perfect example of FASS in action. This is the little black dress of condiments—appropriate in almost any situation. What it really comes down to is lemon zest, basil, and lemon juice, and zingo, you have a condiment that brightens and brings out the flavor in anything you put it on top of—veggies, chicken, fish, whatever. But it isn’t just packed with flavor, it’s also loaded with cancer-fighting properties, including anti-inflammatory agents in the basil and antioxidants in the lemon.

Sometimes I feel like the United Nations is meeting in my kitchen. This time around it’s India and Lebanon at the table. It sounds exotic, but this is really just a nice, simple hummus (that’s the Lebanese part) with a zingy curry buzz (hello, Sri Lanka). Chickpeas are rich in protein and essential amino acids for keeping the body strong, while the sesame seeds in the tahini have high levels of anticancer phytochemicals; and since the seeds are ground into a paste, they’re easy to digest.

Shopping for fish can be intimidating. Maybe it’s the fact that half of them are staring at you from behind the counter, as if to say, “Jeez, how did I end up here? “ So, if you’re going to do them—and yourself——justice, here’s how to rustle up a fine, fresh fillet. You need to use your eyes and your nose. Look for a cut where the flesh is moist and glistening, with no flat, brown edges. If the fish looks dull, take a pass. Same goes for any fillet with a fishy or ammonia smell. Don’t be shy about asking your fishmonger a few questions, like when the fish came in and from where. Most stores have regular shipments; knowing that schedule in advance can help you plan when to have fish. If black cod were in a band, it would be the bass player: steady, meaty, but not much of a soloist. It benefits from some jazzy front men and especially likes to swing with citrus high notes. You’ll find plenty of those riffs in this dish.