Keto

This soup is common in all of the regions hugging the Adriatic, where fish trimmings of one sort or another are always available to cook into a light, flavorful broth. We had it often when we lived in Istria, whenever someone in the family was not feeling well, for its supposed restorative powers. And although children sometimes disdain “fishy”-tasting food, I recall vividly savoring this broth, which had the taste of the sea but was sweet and elegant too. In those days, we would take the fish heads and tails out of the soup pot and pluck the hidden morsels of whitefish meat off the bones. In the version that follows, you’ll strain the bones out of the broth and briefly cook some meaty (but boneless) trimmings just before serving the soup.

Everybody is familiar with lamb chops and leg of lamb—but how about the shoulder? When is that used? Well, here I give you the recipe for a roasted lamb shoulder—and you will see why it is my favorite cut for roasting. The meat is sweeter on the blade bone, and, with lots of cartilage to melt during roasting, the meat is finger-sticking good. You might not get a clean, precise cut of meat from the shoulder, but it will be delicious.

In Friuli and neighboring regions, cooking pork and cabbage together in the same pot has been the habit for centuries. Sometimes the cabbage is in the form of sauerkraut (for example, Istrian cappucci guarniti, page 27), and sometimes it is fresh Savoy cabbage. This recipe is a quick and delicious rendition of this one-pot tradition in which the meat and its juices are used to flavor and cook the cabbage. Here the chops are browned in the skillet, leaving caramelization and pan juices that permeate the cabbage as it cooks alone, until the ingredients are united for a few minutes at the end. Together, they make a harmonious and satisfying meal—but if you have a hungry bunch, serve some grilled polenta alongside.

In Trieste, every home and every trattoria has a pot of this hearty soup perking on the stove, especially during the winter months, when the bora, a cold north-easterly wind, blows down from the Carso mountains above the city. Bean soups with pasta (pasta e fagioli) or rice are popular here too, as in other parts of Italy, but the combination of beans and sauerkraut is the favorite by far—a perfect example of the Slavic influence on the culinary culture of Trieste.

If you’re a Ro*tel lover, then this is your dish. (In case you aren’t familiar, it’s a blend of diced tomatoes with green chiles, often used to make a mean chili con queso.) We love how Tanya adds spinach to her version of this popular Southern dip, so it makes us feel healthy and good even though it’s still a “comfort” food. We’re typically starving upon arrival, and a great spicy spinach dip with a bowl of tortilla chips is a good way to take the edge off. Throw your luggage down and dig in!

Although these savory, salty little bundles are a little too fat to truly resemble cigars, rolling the crabs in the prosciutto does employ a technique used by skilled workers in Cuba. It might also seem familiar to you if you’ve ever hand-rolled anything in papers. For directions on cleaning the soft-shell crabs, see page 32. Make sure you go easy on the salt in this dish because the prosciutto already contains plenty.

I love it when the first bunches of springtime sorrel appear in the market. It has a fantastic sour, lemony-mint thing going on that does something great for clams. The only drawback is that when you cook sorrel, it turns the worst color of brown. Sprinkle it on the dish at the last minute for the best flavor and look. Please try to find guanciale for this dish—it has a delightful fattiness to it that can’t really be replicated. If you can’t find guanciale, use bacon or pancetta instead. Everyone thinks clams have to be cooked over high heat. It’s not necessary in order for the clams to open, and it can render them tough if not done carefully.

There’s nothing fancy about a whole, roasted fish—it’s just good. While the fish cooks, the herbs and lemon perfume the flesh, and the fish turns out moist and succulent with crisp skin. It doesn’t get much better. If you can’t find black bass, branzino, snapper, or rockfish would also work. This recipe is for one whole fish, but it’s just as easy to double the recipe if you’re having friends to dinner. Roast off a couple of fish, add a couple of other dishes, and let everyone share.

This is a dish to transport you to the Italian Riviera—the freshest sardines, simply grilled, splashed with lemon, briny olives, and the sweet anise flavor of the season’s first fennel. This is also finger food, so get out a big stack of napkins and don’t eat them with those who are excessively dainty. They don’t deserve them anyway. It would play into the whole relaxed-by-the-sea thing if you have your fishmonger scale and clean the sardines.

In this pure celebration of spring, Middle Eastern spices add warmth and depth to tender goat, while the season’s first tender offerings—fresh chickpeas, slender spring onions, tart sorrel—make a fabulous accompaniment. Letting the sautéed vegetables cool before adding the sorrel allows it to keep its vibrant color, and it also makes this relaxed, do-ahead party food. Prepare the side while the goat rests and be prepared to covet the leftovers. Fresh chickpeas look like abbreviated little fava beans in the pod, and, like favas, they require a two-step shelling process to get to the little green gems inside. If you can find them, it’s worth every minute of preparation. Fresh chickpeas are sweet and tender, with only a hint of the nuttiness that marks their flavor when dried. The spices can be found in Middle Eastern markets or online.

After a rugged weekend of deer hunting, this is the dish I celebrate with . . . okay, not really. I buy farmed venison, just as you will. The nice thing, other than not having to don your camo and risk getting ticks, is that farmed venison is less intense than wild deer meat, with a rich, sophisticated flavor that is perfectly accented with a simple agrodolce. Forget about beef tenderloin and serve this instead—I promise the luscious texture and wild essence will win you over. As with tenderloin, though, make sure you serve the venison rare.

I have to say that this is one of my all-time favorite salads, my variation of an Alice Waters recipe I came across years ago, and I’ve always loved the simplicity and the flavor. Shave the mushrooms immediately prior to serving, so that they release their aromas. It’s so intoxicating that you’d think they were pheromones. This salad is actually pretty sexy.

Many recipes that pair carrots with orange call for cooking the carrots with orange juice. Here, I use strips of peel instead, so that you get just a hint of orange, keeping the flavors bright. In the restaurants, we use Thumbelina carrots, a cute, round variety with incredible sweetness. Don’t go crazy chopping the mint—you don’t want to turn it into paste. Just do a few quick strokes with the knife, toss with the carrots, and serve right away. You might want to caution your guests not to eat the orange peel.

For those of you not familiar with the term, “alligator pear” is a charming and old-fashioned name for avocado. I use the term here because this is less a recipe than a memory. When I was growing up, my parents thought it the height of sophistication to serve us halved avocados as an accompaniment to our after-dinner salad. They filled them with olive oil and sprinkled them with salt and never failed to mention how rare and expensive a treat we were getting. This is an homage to that family dinner tradition—half an alligator pear, made lighter and more savory with the addition of buttery Ligurian Taggiasca olives and a lightly dressed arugula salad. Serve them the next time you entertain and raise a fork to the Stowells as you do.

Puntarelle is also called Catalonian chicory, though I think of it as a truly Italian vegetable. It is in the chicory family, with thicker stalks tapering to serrated leaves that look a bit like those of a dandelion. The leaves have a little bite to them, with more of a fennel-endive thing going on in the stalks. It might take some searching to find it in the market—you could always try asking your market if they would order it—but it’s worth seeking out. In Rome, puntarelle is traditionally paired with strong flavors such as anchovy and garlic that can match the strong flavor of the vegetable, as I do here, along with an ice-water soak that takes off some of the edge. If you can’t find puntarelle, I suppose you could substitute frisée, but then you’re kind of missing the magic.

You may know rapini as broccoli rabe, that delightfully bitter green you see in the market next to its mild cousin, chard. Blanching the rapini first tames a bit of the bitterness, while the straightforward preparation allows the vegetable to still be its bold self. Serve with roasted or grilled meats, dishes with assertive flavors that will hold up to the greens.

Lobster mushrooms are named for their gorgeous color and appear in Northwest markets from August through October. They have a delicate flavor and are very fine textured, making them a lovely addition to the plate. The preserved garlic ties the whole dish together, so don’t be tempted to substitute fresh. Not only would the taste be too harsh for this delicate mushroom, but you’d also miss the mellow richness the preserved garlic offers. If you can’t find lobster mushrooms, you can use other wild mushrooms such as chanterelles or hedgehogs, though the flavor will be different.