Bay Leaf Quotes

or 3 sprigs fresh thyme or ½ teaspoon dried thyme 1 bay leaf Reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook for 5 minutes. Add the eggplant and zucchini and cook until everything is tender, about 20 minutes more. Taste and adjust the seasonings. Stir in: ¼ cup chopped basil (Chopped pitted Niçoise or Kalamata olives to taste)

Time seems to pass. The world happens, unrolling into moments, and you stop to glance at a spider pressed to its web. There is a quickness of light and a sense of things outlined precisely and streaks of running luster on the bay. You know more surely who you are on a strong bright day after a storm when the smallest falling leaf is stabbed with self-awareness. The wind makes a sound in the pines and the world comes into being, irreversibly, and the spider rides the wind-swayed web.

When Your Life Looks Back, When your life looks back-- As it will, at itself, at you--what will it say? Inch of colored ribbon cut from the spool. Flame curl, blue-consuming the log it flares from. Bay leaf. Oak leaf. Cricket. One among many. Your life will carry you as it did always, With ten fingers and both palms, With horizontal ribs and upright spine, With its filling and emptying heart, That wanted only your own heart, emptying, filled, in return. You gave it. What else could do? Immersed in air or in water. Immersed in hunger or anger. Curious even when bored. Longing even when running away. "What will happen next?"-- the question hinged in your knees, your ankles, in the in-breaths even of weeping. Strongest of magnets, the future impartial drew you in. Whatever direction you turned toward was face to face. No back of the world existed, No unseen corner, no test. No other earth to prepare for. This, your life had said, its only pronoun. Here, your life had said, its only house. Let, your life had said, its only order. And did you have a choice in this? You did-- Sleeping and waking, the horses around you, the mountains around you, The buildings with their tall, hydraulic shafts. Those of your own kind around you-- A few times, you stood on your head. A few times, you chose not to be frightened. A few times, you held another beyond any measure. A few times, you found yourself held beyond any measure. Mortal, your life will say, As if tasting something delicious, as if in envy. Your immortal life will say this, as it is leaving.

She led him by the hand to the bed as if he were a blind beggar on the street, and she cut him into pieces with malicious tenderness; she added salt to taste, pepper, a clove of garlic, chopped onion, lemon juice, bay leaf, until he was seasoned and on the platter, and the oven was heated to the right temperature.

Why do you haunt me? You, like a tattoo on my tongue, like the bay leaf at the bottom of every pan. You who sprawled out beside me and sang my horoscope to a Schubert symphony, something about travel and money again, and we lay there, both of our breaths bad, both of our underwear dangling elastic, and then you turned toward me with a gaze like two matches, putting the horoscope aside, you traced my buried ribs with your index finger, lingered at my collarbone, admiring it as one might a flying buttress, murmuring: Nice clavicle. And me, too new at it and scared, not knowing what to say, whispering: You should see my ten-speed.

Demi-glace. There are a lot of ways to make demi-glace, but I recommend you simply take your already reduced meat stock, add some red wine, toss in some shallots and fresh thyme and a bay leaf and peppercorns, and slowly, slowly simmer it and reduce it again until it coats a spoon. Strain. Freeze this stuff in an ice-cube tray, pop out a cube or two as needed, and you are in business — you can rule the world. And remember, when making a sauce with demi-glace, don't forget to monter au beurre. Chervil,

She smelled sometimes of lemons, sometimes of sage, sometimes of roses, sometimes of bay leaf. At times I would no longer hear what it was she was saying; I just liked to look at her mouth as it opened and closed over words, or as she laughed. How terrible it must be for all the people who had no one to love them so and no one whom they loved so, I thought.

Lights from across the bay twinkled in the night and Christmas carols played softly in the background. She wished for snow to fall to add to the season.

Can you name me these ingredients?" Chef Amadí points to the different herbs and spices. "I can see that you know," she says. And I do know. I pick up the large leaf and sniff it. It's smaller than the type we use back home but I'd know that scent anywhere. "That one's bay leaf," I say. "And that seed is cardamom." She nods and shoots me a wink. She moves us to a different station and opens a container where several large octopi chill on beds of ice. I've never worked with octopus and I'm fascinated by the vibrant red color of the skin and the slippery feeling of it in my hands. She demonstrates with a knife how to slice through the octopus tentacles that she will marinate for grilling.

1¼ cups white wine vinegar 1¾ cups water 2½ tablespoons sugar ½ bay leaf 4 thyme sprigs A pinch of dried chile flakes ½ teaspoon coriander seeds 2 whole cloves 4 garlic cloves, halved 1½ teaspoons sea salt Combine all the ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Add small or chopped vegetables to the brine, cooking each type of vegetable separately and removing them when they are cooked but still a little crisp. Remove the vegetables with a slotted spoon and set them aside to cool to room temperature. Once all the vegetables are cooked and cooled, allow the brine to cool as well. Stir the vegetables together gently in a large bowl, then transfer to jars or other covered containers, cover with the cooled pickle brine, and refrigerate. You can keep this basic brine in your refrigerator and reheat it to make fresh pickles when you are inspired by a trip to the farmers’ market.

Ode to the West Wind I O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With living hues and odours plain and hill: Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh hear! II Thou on whose stream, mid the steep sky’s commotion, Loose clouds like earth’s decaying leaves are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean, Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread On the blue surface of thine aëry surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Maenad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith’s height, The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre, Vaulted with all thy congregated might Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere Black rain, and fire, and hail will burst: oh hear! III Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lull’d by the coil of his crystàlline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiae’s bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave’s intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou For whose path the Atlantic’s level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear, And tremble and despoil themselves: oh hear! IV If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable! If even I were as in my boyhood, and could be The comrade of thy wanderings over Heaven, As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed Scarce seem’d a vision; I would ne’er have striven As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need. Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chain’d and bow’d One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud. V Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like wither’d leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an unextinguish’d hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unawaken’d earth The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?

Chef Ayden says you have something special. An 'affinity with the things that come from the dirt,' he says. A master of spices. And coming from Ayden that means a lot. He doesn't usually believe in natural inclinations. Only in working hard enough to make the hard work seem effortless. Is it true about you?" I know my eyebrows look about ready to parachute off my face. "You mean the bay-leaf thing?" "No more oil, that's good." She takes the bowl of marinated octopus from my hand, covers it with a red cloth, and puts it in the fridge. "The 'bay-leaf thing' is exactly what I mean. You're new to Spain. From what your teacher tells me, not many of you have had exposure to world cuisines. Yet, you know a variety of herb that looks and smells slightly different when found outside of this region. I'm sure you've probably seen it in other ways. You've probably mixed spices together no one told you would go together. Cut a vegetable in a certain way that you believe will render it more flavorful. You know things that no one has taught you, sí?" I shake my head no at her. 'Buela always said I had magic hands but I've never said it out loud about myself. And I don't know if I believed it was magic as much as I believed I'm a really good cook. But she is right; most of my experimenting is with spices. "My aunt Sarah sends me recipes that I practice with. And I watch a lot on Food Network. Do you have that channel here? It's really good. They have this show called Chopped-" Chef Amadí puts down the rag she was wiping down the counter with and takes my hands in hers. Studies my palms. "Chef Ayden tells me you have a gift. If you don't want to call it magic, fine. You have a gift and it's probably changed the lives of people around you. When you cook, you are giving people a gift. Remember that.

Outside, the night was soft and fresh. There was a half-moon shining brightly in a field of stars, a glowing ring of light surrounding it, and it had made a trail across the bay that showed in places through the darker screen of trees. They walked in silence, and she breathed the mingled scents of wildflowers sleeping in the shadows, and the salt air of the sea. He had not let go of her hand. She did not want him to. They did not leave the clearing but at length they reached its edge, where rustling branches stretched above them and the light and noise and music of the barn seemed far away. One heart-shaped leaf fell from a nearby tree and landed on his shoulder and unthinkingly she lifted her free hand to brush it off before it marked the white coat she had worked so hard and long to clean. She felt him looking down at her, and glancing up self-consciously she started to explain. And lost the words. And then he bent his head and kissed her. Everything around her seemed to stop, and still, and cease to matter. She could not have said how long it lasted. Not long, probably. It was a gentle kiss but at the same time fierce and sure and full of all the pent-up feelings she herself had fought these past months, and now she knew he had felt them just as she had, and had fought them, too. It was a great release to give up fighting. Give up everything, and float in the sensation.

Every leaf that taps against the attic window, every thorn that nestles against the bricks, is part of a barrier that keeps the twentieth century at bay. I have always taken a dim view of the twentieth century, so that I consider this to be a laudable amibition.

The classic recipes are goat, lamb, vegetable, and/or chicken biriyani. But when I was in New Orleans, at this restaurant, they served Louisiana barbecue shrimp, which was simply delicious. When I asked the waiter what was in the shrimp sauce, he rattled off a number of spices (rosemary, thyme, basil, oregano, et cetera) and so, I went with memory. I marinated the raw prawns in mashed garlic, rosemary, basil, oregano, thyme, sage, paprika, black pepper, white pepper, cayenne, and onion powder, along with a dash of Worcestershire sauce. I decided to cook the rice in the pressure cooker, added crushed cloves, cardamom, and cinnamon, and a bay leaf for a minute or so. Then I added some onions and fried until the onions became golden brown. Then went in the rice, and enough water, and I closed the pressure cooker. The rice was ready in ten minutes. In a separate pan, I sautéed the marinated prawns in butter, along with extra chopped garlic and the marinade, and added them to the cooked rice. I garnished it with chopped fresh coriander and voilà, Cajun prawn biriyani. I served it with some regular cucumber raita. Mama had been so sure that Daddy would hate prawns but I saw him clean out each one on his plate and even get a second helping. Sometimes we forget why we don't like some things and then when we try them again, we realize that we had been wrong.

The pie pantry had a familiar scent, warm and earthy like flour, yeast, and dough, with top notes of apples and spices. Sam unconsciously wrapped her arms around her body- the smells greeting her like a warm hug- and smiled. I actually just used the words "top notes," Sam laughed to herself, thinking of her roommate, Lily, who had worked at Yankee Candle while in college, and- although she never purchased a single grocery item save for Oreos- bought candles for their tiny apartment constantly, describing the scents in flowery,, over-the-top descriptions. A cinnamon stick candle didn't just smell like cinnamon, Sam mused, trying to remember how Lily had described it. Oh, yes: its top notes were cinnamon, its middle notes were clove and cardamom, and its base notes were cedarwood and bay leaf.

I really love being able to make a big pot of hearty soup for dinner. It’s a time-saver and the cleanup is always easier. This corn chowder is one of my family’s favorites. The East and West Coasts have their seafood chowders, but we prairie folk raise a lot of corn. No prairie cookbook would be complete without a corn chowder recipe. Serves 4 8 ears fresh corn, shucked 8 slices bacon, chopped ¼ cup (½ stick/55 g) unsalted butter 4 cloves garlic, finely chopped 2 ribs celery, finely chopped 1 yellow onion, finely chopped 1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh thyme 1 fresh or dried bay leaf 6 cups (1.4 L) milk 3 new potatoes (about 1½ pounds/680 g), peeled and cut into ½-inch (12-mm) cubes Salt and freshly ground black pepper ¼ cup (7 g) thinly sliced fresh basil or 4 sprigs thyme, for serving • Working over a large shallow bowl, slice the corn kernels off the cobs, scraping the cobs with the knife to extract the flavorful juices. Halve 5 of the bare corncobs crosswise, discarding the rest. Set the corn and cobs aside. • Cook the bacon in a large pot over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until crisp, about 12 minutes. Reserve 3 tablespoons of the bacon for garnish, leaving the remaining bacon in the pot. Add the butter, garlic, celery, onion, thyme, and bay leaf. Cover the pot and cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion softens, about 6 minutes. Add the reserved corn kernels and cobs, the milk, and potatoes. Cover, bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the potatoes are tender, about 25 minutes. • Skim any foam from the surface of the soup. Discard the cobs and bay leaf. Transfer 1½ cups (360 ml) of the soup to a blender and puree. Stir the puree back into the chowder to thicken it. Season with salt and pepper and serve garnished with the basil or thyme and the reserved bacon.

Day 8 after coming home from the hospital The classic recipes are goat, lamb, vegetable, and/or chicken biriyani. But when I was in New Orleans, at this restaurant, they served Louisiana barbecue shrimp, which was simply delicious. When I asked the waiter what was in the shrimp sauce, he rattled off a number of spices (rosemary, thyme, basil, oregano, et cetera) and so, I went with memory.  I marinated the raw prawns in mashed garlic, rosemary, basil, oregano, thyme, sage, paprika, black pepper, white pepper, cayenne, and onion powder, along with a dash of Worcestershire sauce. I decided to cook the rice in the pressure cooker, always quick and easy. I heated some ghee in the pressure cooker, added crushed cloves, cardamom, and cinnamon, and a bay leaf for a minute or so. Then I added some onions and fried until the onions became golden brown. Then went in the rice, and enough water, and I closed the pressure cooker. The rice was ready in ten minutes. In a separate pan, I sautéed the marinated prawns in butter, along with extra chopped garlic and the marinade, and added them to the cooked rice. I garnished it with chopped fresh coriander and voila, Cajun prawn biriyani. I served it with some regular cucumber raita. Mama had been so sure that Daddy would hate prawns but I saw him clean out each one on his plate and even get a second helping. Sometimes we forget why we don’t like some things and then when we try them again, we realize that we had been wrong. Giving Serious Though to Adultery Girish was a classical music buff and in the beginning of their marriage, Shobha joined him for a few musical events and lectures.

And one bay leaf,

Meanwhile hundreds of carts were coming up the hill, laden with supplies. ‘Five hundred tons of flour,’ said Mr Plum, ticking them off on a long list. ‘Three tons of salt, two tons of pepper, two hundred tons of onions, one bay leaf . . .’ The gasometer

grunt, causing me to chuckle. “Have you ever considered that you’re not great at insulting people?” I asked, opening the lawn and leaf bag so Clove could shove the huge thistle stalk inside. “I’ll have you know that I’m great at insulting people,” Clove countered. “I’m a Winchester. The ability to insult people comes with the genes.” “I’ve noticed how good your family is at it,” I conceded. “I don’t think you’re good at it, though. I think you want to be good at it because you think you should be able to equal Thistle and Bay when they get in a mood, but you’re too sweet.” “I’m not sweet,” Clove scoffed. “I’m … mean.” “Yes, you’re terrifying.” “No one needs the sarcasm,” Clove said. “Fine. You’re probably right. I am terrible at insulting people. That doesn’t mean I’m sweet.

He wraps a bay leaf, thyme, and parsley with the dark green portion of a leek and secures it with a string. Voilà, a bouquet garni.

HEARTY MINESTRONE SOUP SERVES 3 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 small yellow onion, chopped 1 cup diced carrots 1 cup diced celery 1 cup diced zucchini 2 garlic cloves, minced 1 teaspoon minced fresh thyme 1 (14-ounce) can chopped tomatoes 3 to 4 cups chicken stock 1 bay leaf 1½ teaspoons salt, plus more to taste ½ teaspoon pepper ½ can white beans, drained and rinsed 2 to 3 large handfuls of fresh baby spinach 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice In a large pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onion, carrots, and celery and cook for 8 to 10 minutes, until the veggies begin to soften. Add the zucchini, garlic, and thyme and cook for another 3 to 5 minutes. Add the tomatoes, 3 cups of the stock, the bay leaf, 1½ teaspoons salt, and the pepper and stir to combine. Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes. Discard the bay leaf. Add the beans and heat through. Add more stock if needed. Just before serving, add the spinach and stir until wilted. Stir in the lemon juice and add salt to taste. Ladle into a bowl and serve.

Spring. The green dance, from the smallest roadside plant in a vertical upsurge, to trees bursting in leaf, swaying to morning skies woven in rainbows of returning birds, from the mystical white transformation of ice and snow in bays to the miracle and movement of water. I am stillness, I am dance; I am death, I am life. Know this for what you are. Everything moves.

Felicity’s Macaroni and Cheese 4 cups (1 pound) elbow macaroni 5 tablespoons unsalted butter 4 cups milk 1/2 medium onion 4 cloves garlic 1 bay leaf 3 sprigs fresh thyme 1 teaspoon dry mustard 2 tablespoons flour 2 cups grated cheddar, plus 1 cup in big chunks 1 cup sharp white cheddar cheese 1/2 cup grated parmesan Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper Directions Cook the macaroni in a large pot of boiling salted water until done, about five to seven minutes. Drain and toss it with two tablespoons of butter; set aside. Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Coat a large baking dish with one tablespoon of butter, and set it aside. Mince the onion, and crush the garlic cloves. Pour the milk into a saucepan, and add the onion, garlic, bay leaf, thyme, and mustard. Warm over medium-low heat until the milk starts to steam, about ten minutes. Remove from the heat, and let the flavors infuse while you make the roux. In a large pot over medium heat, add two tablespoons butter and the flour. Cook, stirring, for about two to three minutes; don’t let the roux color. Remove the bay leaf from the infused milk and add to the roux, whisking constantly to avoid lumps. Cook, stirring often, for about five minutes until the sauce is thick. Remove from the heat and add one half of the grated cheddar, one half of the sharp white cheddar, and one half of the parmesan; stir until it is melted and smooth. Taste and adjust

Chicken and Zucchini Noodle Soup Number of Servings: 8 Calories per Serving: 227   Ingredients: ●           3 1/2 cups thinly sliced zucchini ●           3 cups chopped cooked boneless, skinless chicken ●           3/4 cup chopped celery ●           1/6 cup chopped onion ●           1/6 cup chopped carrot ●           1/6 cup coconut oil ●           10 cups low sodium chicken broth ●           1/3 tsp dried marjoram ●           2 thin slivers fresh ginger ●           1/3 tsp black pepper ●           3/4 Tbsp dried parsley ●           1 bay leaf   Instructions: Combine the chicken, celery, onion, carrot, coconut oil, broth, marjoram, ginger, pepper, parsley, and bay leaf in the slow cooker. Cover and cook for 6 hours on low. Ladle into soup bowls and top with sliced zucchini.

I want my children to embrace doing nothing, to embrace the slowing of an afternoon to a near standstill, when all you can hear is the laborious ticking of the clock and the dog snoring on the sofa, the rain’s patter at the window, the occasional swoosh of a slowly passing car. Remember those days? The exasperation, the excruciating itchiness of them? My kids would have to dive in, live through the agony, and come out the other side. They’d have to learn to lie on the lawn watching ants scale the grass blades; they’d have to linger, digits pruning, in the bathtub; they’d have to stop, to be still, and then to wait, and wait, and wait, allowing time to fatten around them like a dewdrop on the tip of a leaf. And then, only then, who knows what they might imagine or invent? How can I teach them, when they’re not of an age to listen, and when, more problematically, I too often live in the world just as they do? In practice, I set a poor example, never idling or ambling or reading in bed. I’d like to figure out how to be the kind of parent who holds at bay all demands and exhortations, all fripperies and nonsense. I’d like to show the wisdom of restraint. A different version of washing out Ziplock bags and mending moth holes, it arises from the same impulse: from the understanding that if you attend thoughtfully to what you already have, you need nothing more. It’s all here, inside and in the room – not on the screen – before us. - Essay “In Praise of Boredom” Harpers Magazine, August 2015

THE BEEF BOURGUIGNON was bubbling in the oven, the smells of meat and red wine, onions and bay leaf and thyme murmuring like travelers on a late-night train.

Barack Obama put a bag of red lentils and a chopped onion and a bay leaf into the crockpot and turned it on low for six to eight hours.

Purpose: To attract urgent money for those days when you are having an emergency that requires money to solve it This is one of those spells that is so simple, you might question its effectiveness, but I can promise you that if you are able to put this together, the outcome is quick. Don't expect to become a billionaire overnight, though. This is more about getting urgent cash fast. In addition to your intent, gather these items: Bay leaf Cinnamon (powdered) Nutmeg (powdered)

Pile chilled bay shrimp in the seed cavity of the prepared avocado and top with a generous tablespoon of Marie Rose sauce.  Sprinkle with a tiny amount of cayenne pepper or paprika to taste. Garnish with a spring of flat parsley and serve on a leaf of curly red lettuce with a wedge of lemon.

Back in the ’70s, the only way I encountered cauliflower was boiled to hell and drenched with a butter or cheese sauce. Worse, to me as a kid, raw cauliflower looked kind of like brains. After those early cauliflower traumas, I wasn’t in a hurry to give it a second chance. But proper cooking techniques can elevate this seemingly mundane vegetable to the culinary heights it deserves. Cauliflower is insanely delicious when it is roasted so its edges go all crispy and caramelized and it tastes mysteriously rich and complex. I’m keeping it simple and mostly unadorned here, but I love that cauliflower is a great canvas on which you can improvise with all sorts of flavors: I often add a bit of anchovies or raisins or grated lemon zest. Serves 4 Scant ½ cup extra virgin olive oil 4 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled 4 spring onions or large scallions, trimmed and chopped 1 medium head cauliflower or Romanesco (about 2 pounds), cored and broken into florets ½ teaspoon fine sea salt Freshly ground black pepper 6 bay leaves, preferably fresh 1 cup white wine 1 lemon A small handful of fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves, torn Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until hot but not smoking. Add the garlic and cook just until it starts to color, a minute or so, then add the spring onions and cook until you can smell the aromatics, another minute or so. Add the cauliflower and season with the salt and pepper to taste. Then let the cauliflower just sit, without stirring, for 5 minutes. You want to get some great, deep color on it, and that’s how you do it—no stirring. After 5 minutes, check the underside of a cauliflower piece. Nice and browned? Great.

Next, we moved to dessert with a bite of berry torte, passed out in shallow bowls meant for sauce. "There are over fifteen individually prepared components in this," Matthew started. "And you must know them all!" Jake added. Matthew cleared his throat. "The important ones are: berry cake, chia seed brittle, mint-honey glaze, preserved orange peel, burnt sugar whipped cream, almond tuiles, almond-Riesling gelato, and rose meringues. Then everything is set ablaze with bay leaf-infused brandy.

DAWN TREADER SOUP When Caspian, King of Narnia, in the company of Reepicheep the mouse knight, Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace, decides to go in search of the lost Lords of Narnia, he sets sail on a ship called the Dawn Treader. The crew experiences many adventures at sea and on land, and have to live off the food on board and what they can find around them. This soup was a particular favorite of Eustace…. At least, until he turned into a dragon! This recipe can easily be made on board a ship, using produce from the sea and supplies from the hold. INGREDIENTS • serves 4 1 lb 2 oz clams 2 3/4 oz smoked bacon 1 shallot 1 1/2 oz butter 3 sprigs thyme 1 bay leaf 1 T flour 2 cooked potatoes, chopped into chunks 1 3/4 oz crème fraîche or sour cream Salt and pepper PREPARATION TIME • 15 mins COOKING TIME • 25 mins Collect the clams on the island of Felimath, rinse them carefully, and place in a cauldron with about 4 oz of water. Boil them for 2 minutes, until the clams open, and discard any that remain closed. Drain the clams, saving the juices, and remove them from their shells. Strain and reserve the juices through a piece of cheesecloth. Chop the bacon and let it brown for a few minutes in a nonstick frying pan. Drain off the excess fat and set the bacon aside on paper towels. Peel the shallot, sauté it for 5 minutes in the butter without browning, then add the bacon, thyme, and bay leaf before the ship reaches the Dark Island. Sprinkle with the flour and let the shallot and bacon cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Slowly add the clam juice, stirring at the same time to prevent lumps forming, then add the potato chunks and simmer for 10 minutes. Remove bay leaf and purée with a blender until the soup is quite smooth. Add the clams and the crème fraîche or sour cream, reheat for 2 minutes, season with salt and pepper, and serve. Note: Reepicheep likes to add a handful of samphire to nibble with this soup.

2 ounces pancetta, chopped 1 teaspoon unsalted butter 1 medium onion, chopped ⅔ cup chopped celery ⅔ cup chopped carrot 1 garlic clove, minced 1 pound 93% lean ground beef ¾ teaspoon kosher salt Freshly ground black pepper ¼ cup dry white wine, such as Pinot Grigio ½ cup fat-free milk 1 pound dried potato gnocchi (I like DeLallo) ⅛ teaspoon grated nutmeg 2½ cups canned crushed tomatoes (I like Tuttorosso) 1 bay leaf 6 tablespoons part-skim ricotta cheese 2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley or basil Freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese (I like Locatelli), for serving (optional) Press the sauté button on an electric pressure cooker. When hot, add the pancetta and cook, stirring, until the fat is rendered, about 1½ minutes. Add the butter, onion, celery, carrot, and garlic and cook, stirring, until softened, 5 to 7 minutes. Add the ground beef, ½ teaspoon of the salt, and pepper to taste. Brown the meat, using a wooden spoon to break it into small pieces as it cooks, 4 to 5 minutes. Add the wine and cook, stirring, until it reduces, 1 to 2 minutes. Stir in the milk, gnocchi, and nutmeg. Add the crushed tomatoes, ½ cup water, the bay leaf, the remaining ¼ teaspoon salt, and pepper to taste. Seal and cook on high pressure for 6 minutes, until the gnocchi are tender. Quick or natural release, then open when the pressure subsides. If the gnocchi are not done, press the sauté button and cook for 2 to 3 more minutes. Discard the bay leaf. Serve topped with the ricotta, parsley, and pecorino (if using).

When I'm filming, I get up at 5 A.M. and have a piece of fruit and a cup of tea. At 6:30, I eat an egg and bacon or sausage. […] I eat a light lunch. Sometimes a small minute steak with two small cherry tomatoes. Sometimes chicken—boiled, not broiled. I've always found roasted or barbecued chicken incredibly dry. My chicken is boiled with carrots, celery, onions, kosher salt and pepper, and bay leaf, and it's always moist and delicious. Sometimes I'll have some more bacon late in the afternoon. […] I eat for energy, and that means plenty of protein.

Carrot, Ginger and Turmeric Soup Prep Time: 10 minutes Cooking Time: 30 minutes Servings: 4 persons Ingredients 1 ½ pounds carrots, chopped roughly 2 tablespoons vegetable oil 2 sticks celery, chopped roughly 1 onion, chopped roughly 1 bay leaf 2 teaspoons turmeric 1 ¾ pint vegetable stock 1 - 2-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and sliced thin 2 cloves garlic, sliced thin For serving 4 scallions, sliced 4 teaspoons sesame oil Handful coriander, chopped 1 green chili, chopped 2 teaspoons lime juice Directions Add the oil to large pot and heat. Once hot drop in the celery, onion, bay leaf and carrot stir together and cook for 10 minutes. Next, stir in the turmeric, ginger and garlic cooking for a further 5 minutes. Now pour in the stock, stir and heat until it begins to boil. Turn down the heat and cook on low for 15 minutes or until the carrots become soft. When ready take out the bay leaf and remove from the heat to cool slightly. Place the soup mix into a blender or you have a stick blender use this. Pulse or blend until it becomes creamy and smooth, then return to the stove to reheat. Place the serving ingredients into a dish and mix together. Add the soup to the serving dishes and sprinkle over the garnish. Serve and enjoy.

BEEF AND PORTOBELLO PASTA Portobello mushrooms have a meaty texture that’s perfect for this classic meat-lovers’ dish. SERVES 4 | 1 cup per serving 1 cup dried whole-grain small shell macaroni 1 pound extra-lean ground beef 1 medium portobello mushroom, stem trimmed, cut into ¾-inch cubes (about 1 cup) 1 cup chopped onion 1 medium garlic clove, minced 1 14.5-ounce can no-salt-added diced tomatoes, undrained 1 8-ounce can no-salt-added tomato sauce ½ cup water 1 medium dried bay leaf 1 teaspoon sugar 1 teaspoon dried Italian seasoning, crumbled ½ teaspoon pepper ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes (optional) Prepare the pasta using the package directions, omitting the salt. Drain well in a colander. Set aside. Meanwhile, in a large nonstick saucepan, cook the beef, mushroom, onion, and garlic over medium-high heat for 8 to 10 minutes, or until the beef is browned on the outside and the mushroom and onion are soft, stirring occasionally to turn and break up the beef. Drain if necessary. Wipe the skillet with paper towels. Return the drained mixture to the skillet. Stir in the remaining ingredients. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to medium low and cook for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Stir in the pasta. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or until heated through. Discard the bay leaf before serving the dish. PER SERVING calories 309 total fat 6.5 g saturated 2.5 g trans 0.5 g polyunsaturated 1.0 g monounsaturated 2.5 g cholesterol 62 mg sodium 108 mg carbohydrates 35 g fiber 5 g sugars 8 g protein 31 g calcium 66 mg potassium 855 mg dietary exchanges 1½ starch 3 vegetable 3 lean meat

4 cups (940 ml) homemade Chicken Stock (see page 198) or ready-to-eat chicken broth with 1 envelope (1 tablespoon, or 7 g) plain gelatin added ½ cup (80 g) yellow onion, chopped ½ cup (65 g) carrot, chopped 1 tablespoon (4 g) minced fresh parsley ½ teaspoon minced fresh thyme 1 bay leaf ½ teaspoon black pepper 4 ounces (115 g) uncooked GF macaroni or small pasta shells 2 cups (about ¾ pound, or 340 g) cubed cooked turkey 1 cup (180 g) chopped tomatoes In a large sauce pot over medium heat, combine broth, onion, carrot, parsley, thyme, bay leaf, and pepper. Bring to a boil. Stir in macaroni, cover, and reduce heat. Simmer for about 6 minutes. Stir in turkey and tomatoes. Cook until heated through and macaroni is tender. Discard bay leaf before serving.

1 pound fresh lump crabmeat, drained 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard 6 tablespoons mayonnaise 1 large egg, beaten 1⁄4 cup finely minced onion 2 tablespoons finely chopped flat-leaf parsley 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce 1⁄4 teaspoon hot sauce (or to taste) 2 teaspoons fresh lemon juice 1 teaspoon Old Bay Seasoning

Among the most impressive are caraway, lemon basil, oregano, bay (Pimenta racemosa, not to be confused with bay laurel, which is another plant), thyme, cinnamon (both leaf and bark of Cinnamomum zeylanicum, which is true cinnamon, though cassia, which is often substituted for cinnamon, is also impressive in this regard), clove, and lemongrass. These are my top picks. Some others such as lavender, eucalyptus, tea tree, and rosemary can pinch-hit, but they don’t test as strongly as the others.

Sauté the onions with a little olive oil, a smashed garlic clove, white wine, and a little sugar and let them cook down slowly. Transfer to a bowl and set aside. Sear the chops in a little butter and oil for a few minutes on either side, then return the onions to the pan. Add a bay leaf, a sprig of thyme, a bit of rosemary, some chicken stock, and more wine. Turn down the heat, cover it, and let it cook for about 10 minutes.

pork shank hash with fingerling potatoes and fried egg stinco di maiale con patate e uova fritte ½ pound fingerling potatoes ¼ cup olive oil Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 4 tablespoons unsalted butter 1 large red bell pepper, julienned 2 yellow onions, diced ¾ pound Braised Pork Shank, shredded (recipe follows) ½ cup braising liquid from the pork (recipe follows) 4 large eggs 4 teaspoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 1 Preheat the oven to 350°F. 2 Toss the potatoes with the olive oil and season to taste with salt and pepper. Spread the potatoes on a baking sheet and roast for about 25 minutes, or until tender. Let the potatoes cool to room temperature and then slice into ½-inch slices. Set aside. 3 In a large sauté pan, melt the butter over high heat. 4 Add the potatoes, bell pepper, and onions and sauté for about 5 minutes, or until the bell pepper softens and the potatoes begin to get crispy. 5 Add the pork shank and braising liquid to the pan, stir well, and cook just until heated through. Season to taste with salt and pepper. 6 Meanwhile, fry the eggs in a separate skillet, sunny side up. 7 Divide the hash evenly among 4 shallow bowls or plates and top each serving with 1 egg. Garnish with the chopped parsley and serve. Classic hash and eggs has long been an American diner staple and is one of my all-time favorites. Making hash is also a good way to use meat left over from Saturday-night dinner. I never get up in the morning and say “Let’s braise a shank for breakfast,” but if one is in the refrigerator or freezer, I go for it!  serves 4 braised pork shank makes about ¾ pound meat 2 pounds pork shank (2 shanks) Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper ½ onion, cut into large dice 1 small carrot, cut into thick rounds ½ celery rib, cut into large dice 2 tablespoons white wine 1 teaspoon olive oil 1 small garlic clove, smashed 2 black peppercorns 1 teaspoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 1 sprig fresh thyme ½ fresh bay leaf 2 cups chicken stock 2 cups veal stock or chicken stock (see Note) 1 Preheat the oven to 300°F. Put an empty roasting

red wine–braised short ribs with garlic mashed potatoes costatine con purè di patate Four 12-to 14-ounce boneless beef short ribs Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 1 cup vegetable oil 2 carrots, cut into large dice 2 celery ribs, cut into large dice 1 yellow onion, cut into large dice 2 tablespoons tomato paste One 750-ml bottle dry red wine 2 cups port 3 sprigs fresh thyme 1 sprig fresh rosemary 1 bay leaf 2 quarts veal stock or chicken stock 2 tablespoons sherry vinegar 2½ cups Garlic Mashed Potatoes (Chapter 8) 2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 1 Lay the short ribs in a single layer in a shallow baking pan and season generously on both sides with salt. Cover and refrigerate for 2 hours. 2 Preheat the oven to 375°F. 3 Rinse the salt off the ribs and pat them dry with paper towels. Season the ribs with pepper and a light sprinkling of salt. 4 Heat a casserole or braising pan over high heat. When the pan is hot, put the oil in the pan. When the oil is hot, sear the short ribs on both sides until golden brown. Lift the short ribs from the pan and set aside. If the oil is dark, discard it and replace with fresh oil. 5 Reduce the heat to medium-high and add the carrots, celery, and onion to the pan. Cook, stirring, for about 8 minutes, or until the vegetables brown and caramelize. 6 Stir in the tomato paste. Reduce the heat to medium and cook for 2 to 3 minutes. Add the wine and port, raise the heat to medium-high, and cook for about 5 minutes, or until the liquid reduces by half. 7 Return the short ribs to the pan and add the thyme, rosemary, and bay leaf. Pour the stock into the pan. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Lay a sheet of parchment paper directly on the food and transfer the pan to the oven. Cook for about 2 hours, until the meat is fork tender. 8 Remove the pan from the oven and discard the parchment paper. Add the vinegar. Let the short ribs come to room temperature in the braising liquid. 9 Lift the short ribs from the liquid and set aside on a large plate or bowl, covered, to keep warm. 10 Strain the braising liquid through a fine-mesh sieve or chinois into a saucepan. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, reduce the heat to low, and cook for about 15 minutes, or until reduced by a quarter. Using a skimmer or large spoon, skim off any fat that rises to the surface. Season to taste with salt and pepper and pour the sauce over the ribs. 11 Serve immediately or allow to cool to room temperature and then cover and refrigerate for up to 5 days. (If you are serving immediately and the ribs and sauce are not hot enough, reheat gently over medium-low heat for about 10 minutes.)

fish fumet makes about 3 quarts 2 pounds cod bones or other nonoily fish bones 1 cup dry white wine ½ onion, chopped ½ fennel bulb, chopped 10 fresh flat-leaf parsley stems 2 sprigs fresh thyme 1 bay leaf 1 Chop the cod bones into manageably sized pieces and rinse with cool running water. Transfer to a bowl and add enough cold water to cover. Refrigerate for at least 6 hours or overnight. 2 Preheat the oven to 350°F. 3 Drain the bones and pat them dry. Spread them on a baking sheet and roast for about 20 minutes, or until they are cooked through but have not colored. There will be no fish remaining on them and the bones will be white. 4 Transfer the bones to a saucepan and add the wine, onion, fennel, parsley stems, thyme, and bay leaf. Add 1 gallon of water and bring to a simmer. Simmer for 30 minutes, remove from the heat, and set aside to stand for 10 minutes. Strain and use immediately or cover and refrigerate. The fumet will keep in the refrigerator for up to 7 days. It also will keep in the freezer for up to 1 month. mackerel escabeche with new potatoes sgombro escabeche con patate marinade and vegetables 1¼ cups cider vinegar 1¼ cups dry white wine 3 tablespoons sugar 1 tablespoon kosher salt 4 garlic cloves, thinly sliced 4 shallots, thinly sliced 2 celery ribs, cut on the diagonal into ¼-inch pieces 1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced 1 carrot, thinly sliced ½ fennel bulb, very thinly sliced ½ cup chopped green Cerignola olives or other green olives 8 saffron threads 1 sprig fresh thyme 1 bay leaf 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper potatoes 1 pound new potatoes 1 bay leaf ¾ cup crème fraîche 2 tablespoons snipped fresh chives Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper mackerel ¾ cup extra virgin olive oil Four 6-ounce skin-on mackerel fillets to serve 2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 1 To prepare the marinade, bring the vinegar, wine, sugar, and ¾ cup water to a boil in a pot over high heat. Add the salt and bring the liquid to a boil. Cook at a rapid boil for about 5 minutes, or until reduced by a quarter. 2 Remove the pot from the heat and add the garlic, shallots, celery, bell pepper, carrot, fennel, olives, saffron, thyme, bay leaf, and black pepper to the liquid. Let the marinade cool to room temperature, and then let it stand for 4 hours at room temperature. 3 To prepare the mackerel, heat a sauté pan over medium-high heat. When the pan is hot, put ½ cup of olive oil in the pan. 4 When the oil is hot, sear the mackerel, skin side down, for 2 minutes. Turn the fish and cook for 1 or 2 minutes longer, or until cooked through.

pappardelle with meat ragù pappardelle con rag`u di carne ragù 1 ounce dried porcini mushrooms (about 1 cup) ¾ cup dry white wine 1 pound pork butt 1 pound beef chuck 3 tablespoons olive oil 1 pound ground hot Italian sausage 2 cups diced Spanish onions (about 3 onions) 3 to 4 garlic cloves, minced Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 2 cups drained canned plum tomatoes, crushed About 8 cups Pomodoro Sauce (Chapter 1) 1 quart veal stock or chicken stock 1 quart chicken stock 1 teaspoon finely ground fennel seeds 1 bay leaf Pinch of dried oregano ¾ cup chopped fresh basil pappardelle 1 pound dried pappardelle assembly 2 tablespoons unsalted butter 2 tablespoons olive oil Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper ¼ cup chopped fresh basil 1 ounce Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, shaved 1 To prepare the ragù, soak the porcini mushrooms in the white wine in a nonreactive glass or ceramic bowl for 30 minutes. Lift the mushrooms from the wine and then strain the wine through a fine-mesh sieve or chinois. Roughly chop the hydrated mushrooms. 2 Trim the excess fat from the pork and beef and cut the meat into ½-inch cubes. 3 In a large saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. When the olive oil is hot, cook the sausage, breaking it into chunks as you do, for 6 to 8 minutes, or until nicely browned. Using a slotted spoon, lift the sausage from the pan and set aside. Leave the fat in the pan. Add the beef and pork to the pan and cook, turning, for about 5 minutes, or until well browned. Lift the beef and pork from the pan and add to the sausage. 4 Add the onions to the pan and cook for about 5 minutes, or until lightly browned. Add the garlic and strained wine. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat and cook for about 4 minutes, or until reduced by half. 5 Return the meat to the pan and season to taste with salt and pepper. Stir in the mushrooms, tomatoes, Pomodoro Sauce, stocks, fennel seeds, bay leaf, and oregano. Bring to a simmer over medium heat and then reduce the heat so that the mixture simmers gently, uncovered. 6 Cook at a gentle simmer, frequently skimming off any fat that rises to the top, for 3 hours, until the meat is very tender. Stir in

pork shank hash with fingerling potatoes and fried egg stinco di maiale con patate e uova fritte ½ pound fingerling potatoes ¼ cup olive oil Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 4 tablespoons unsalted butter 1 large red bell pepper, julienned 2 yellow onions, diced ¾ pound Braised Pork Shank, shredded (recipe follows) ½ cup braising liquid from the pork (recipe follows) 4 large eggs 4 teaspoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 1 Preheat the oven to 350°F. 2 Toss the potatoes with the olive oil and season to taste with salt and pepper. Spread the potatoes on a baking sheet and roast for about 25 minutes, or until tender. Let the potatoes cool to room temperature and then slice into ½-inch slices. Set aside. 3 In a large sauté pan, melt the butter over high heat. 4 Add the potatoes, bell pepper, and onions and sauté for about 5 minutes, or until the bell pepper softens and the potatoes begin to get crispy. 5 Add the pork shank and braising liquid to the pan, stir well, and cook just until heated through. Season to taste with salt and pepper. 6 Meanwhile, fry the eggs in a separate skillet, sunny side up. 7 Divide the hash evenly among 4 shallow bowls or plates and top each serving with 1 egg. Garnish with the chopped parsley and serve. Classic hash and eggs has long been an American diner staple and is one of my all-time favorites. Making hash is also a good way to use meat left over from Saturday-night dinner. I never get up in the morning and say “Let’s braise a shank for breakfast,” but if one is in the refrigerator or freezer, I go for it!  serves 4 braised pork shank makes about ¾ pound meat 2 pounds pork shank (2 shanks) Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper ½ onion, cut into large dice 1 small carrot, cut into thick rounds ½ celery rib, cut into large dice 2 tablespoons white wine 1 teaspoon olive oil 1 small garlic clove, smashed 2 black peppercorns 1 teaspoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 1 sprig fresh thyme ½ fresh bay leaf 2 cups chicken stock 2 cups veal stock or chicken stock (see Note)

branzino in salt crust branzino in crosta di sale 1 whole 4-pound branzino, sea bass, striped bass, loup de mer, or red snapper, cleaned and scaled Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper ½ cup extra virgin olive oil ½ lemon, sliced ½ orange, sliced 3 sprigs fresh tarragon 3 sprigs fresh oregano 1 bay leaf 1 garlic clove, sliced 2 pounds kosher salt 1 tablespoon fennel seeds 1 tablespoon black peppercorns 8 large egg whites 1 tablespoon chopped fresh tarragon 1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil 1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley 4 lemon wedges or slices 1 Preheat the oven to 375°F. 2 With a pair of shears, cut out the gills of the fish, if necessary, and wash the inner cavity. Season the cavity to taste with salt and pepper and drizzle with about ¼ cup of olive oil. Put the lemon and orange slices, tarragon, oregano, bay leaf, and garlic in the cavity of the fish and gently press the two sides of the fish together. 3 In a large bowl, stir 2 pounds of kosher salt and the fennel seeds, peppercorns, and egg whites to a paste-like consistency. You might find it easiest to mix this with your hands. 4 Spread a ½-inch layer of the salt paste over a shallow baking pan, such as a jelly roll pan, large enough to hold the fish. Put the stuffed fish on top of the salt. 5 Pack the rest of the salt paste around and over the fish so that it is completely encased. 6 Bake the fish for 30 to 45 minutes, depending on the weight of the fish. A full 4-pound fish will require 40 minutes; a fish that weighs a little more than 4 pounds will need 45 minutes. Do not overcook. 7 Remove the pan from the oven and let the fish rest, still encased in the salt, for 5 to 8 minutes. Using a mallet or the handle of a heavy knife, crack the salt. If the fish is cooked through so that the flesh just flakes and is opaque, remove all the salt using a knife and spoon to lift it off. If the fish needs a little more cooking, rest the chunks of salt back on top of it and return it to the oven for 5 or 6 minutes, or until done. Let it rest again for about 5 minutes before removing all the salt. 8 Drizzle the fish with ¼ cup of olive oil and sprinkle with the chopped tarragon, basil, and parsley. Serve with a wedge or slice of lemon. This is one of my all-time favorite recipes—partly because I love the drama of cracking open the salt shell and exposing the fish, but mainly because it tastes so good. The salt case keeps the fish perfectly moist but does not make it especially salty. In fact, the fish is perfectly cooked and flavored. Cooking fish this way is a technique as old as ancient Rome, and for all its tableside drama it’s surprisingly easy. It’s important to begin with a 4-pound fish (or one slightly larger). I like this

green olive tapenade makes about 3 cups 2 roasted red bell peppers, peeled and finely diced (see Chapter 1) 1 cup pitted and chopped green Cerignola olives 2 anchovy fillets, drained and crushed 2 tablespoons drained capers, rinsed and smashed 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar 6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil ¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley Freshly ground black pepper Kosher salt 1 In a nonreactive glass or ceramic mixing bowl, combine the bell peppers, olives, anchovies, capers, and vinegar. Add the olive oil and parsley and about 1 teaspoon of black pepper and stir gently to mix well. Season to taste with salt. 2 Cover and refrigerate for up to 7 days. homemade giardiniera makes about 6 cups 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 1 bay leaf Pinch of crushed red pepper flakes Pinch of dried oregano 2 cups apple cider vinegar 1 cup white wine vinegar 1 cup sugar 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1 fennel bulb, trimmed of fronds, diced 1 large red onion, diced 1 celery rib, diced 1 large carrot, peeled and diced 1 large red bell pepper, ribs removed, diced 1 large yellow bell pepper, ribs removed, diced 1 jalapeño pepper, halved and seeded 1 cup cauliflower florets 1 cup pitted and halved Queen green olives or other large green olives 3 pickled peperoncini, sliced (see Note) 1 fresh sprig thyme 1 cup extra virgin olive oil 1 In a small, dry skillet set over medium-high heat, toast the black pepper, bay leaf, red pepper, and oregano for about 1 minute, or until fragrant. Slide from the pan to a plate and allow to cool. 2 Lay a 5-to 6-inch square of cheesecloth on a work surface. When the herbs are cool, pile them in the center. Gather the corners together and tie with a length of string to make an herb sachet. 3 In a large pot, heat 2 cups of water and the cider vinegar, wine vinegar, sugar, salt, and herb sachet over high heat and bring to a boil. 4 Add the fennel, onion, celery, carrot, bell peppers, jalapeño, and cauliflower. Let the liquid return to a boil, reduce the heat to a simmer, and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the firmer vegetables (carrots, peppers, cauliflower) are al dente. 5 Remove from the heat and let cool. When the mixture is cool, add the olives, peperoncini, and thyme. Stir to mix, and then stir in the olive oil. Use right away or cover and refrigerate for up to 1 month.

sausage and escarole soup minestra di scarola e salsiccia ½ pound dried cannellini beans ½ cup olive oil 8 garlic cloves, minced 1 tablespoon ground fennel seeds 1 tablespoon crushed red pepper flakes 4 sprigs fresh thyme 1¼ pounds Italian sausage, crumbled 4 celery ribs, cut into large dice 2 carrots, cut into large dice 1 onion, cut into large dice Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper 2 quarts chicken stock 2 quarts Parmesan Broth (recipe follows) 2 heads escarole, washed and dried 2 quarts Stewed Tomatoes (recipe follows) 2 tablespoons sherry vinegar 1 In a bowl or pot, cover the beans with cold water by about 1 inch. Set aside to soak for at least 6 hours or overnight. Change the water two or three times during soaking, if possible. 2 In a large soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic, fennel seeds, red pepper, and thyme and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or until the garlic softens but does not color and the spices are fragrant. 3 Add the sausage and cook, breaking it into large chunks and stirring until browned. When the sausage is about halfway cooked through, add the celery, carrots, and onion, season to taste with salt and pepper, and cook for about 5 minutes longer, or until the vegetables soften and the sausage is nicely browned. 4 Drain the beans and discard the water. Put the beans in the pot with the sausage. Add the stock and Parmesan Broth and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat. Reduce the heat to low and cook for 1 to 1½ hours, until the beans are softened but still hold their shape. Do not overcook. 5 Add the escarole and tomatoes and season to taste with salt. Cook at a gentle simmer for about 10 minutes, or until the escarole is tender. Stir in the vinegar and season to taste with salt and pepper. Ladle into bowls and serve. I love this warm, homey soup, and because it’s one I grew up eating, I am not surprised it hits the spot for so many. In Italy, the region where it’s made dictates the kind of sausage used. In some parts they use pork, in others game or duck sausages. I rely on spicy pork sausage, but if you prefer sweet sausage or turkey sausage, for example, substitute it. The secret to this soup’s special goodness lies with the Parmesan broth, which is a delicious way to use Parmesan rinds—those rock-hard ends on the cheese. It has a wonderful salty and cheesy flavor that makes it perfect for soups and pasta sauces.  serves 6 to 8 parmesan broth makes 1 gallon 1 tablespoon black peppercorns 1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes 1 gallon chicken stock 1½ pounds Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese rind 1 bay leaf 1 sprig fresh thyme 2 tablespoons olive oil Kosher salt

Daniil’s head whirled. Seventeen humans in one room, arms and legs and fingers and toes laced together. Plus one bay leaf.