Anchovy

To make the sourdough croutons, toss 3 1/2 cups 1-inch cubes crustless sourdough bread with 2 tablespoons olive oil. Spread the bread cubes on a heavy-duty rimmed baking sheet and bake at 400°F for 20 to 25 minutes.

This homey spot, which gets its name from the tidal strait that runs between Brooklyn and Governors Island, is a neighborhood favorite. Locals crowd around the butcher-block bar and take a seat at the communal table crafted from ceiling beams from a local warehouse. Chef Ryan Angulo keeps diners satisfied with house-made pickles, Brooklyn-made mozzarella, and hearty hunks of meat, like the roast leg of lamb here.

Quick preserved lemon (it cooks for ten minutes) adds a fresh hit of flavor to this warm salad.

Great with the Caveman Porterhouse or with chicken, fish, or lamb.

Making your own coarse fresh breadcrumbs takes just a minute; see "Test-Kitchen Tip" at the end of the recipe for the how-to.

The croutons found their way into this dish thanks to the frugality of Italian cooks. "Puglians don't throw anything out," says Donatella. "Any leftover bread is used in the pasta."

An extremely easy tapa to assemble that comes straight from El Corregidor, the most delightful bar and restaurant in the region of La Mancha, where Manchego cheese is made and windmills from the times of the Errant Knight Don Quixote still stand.

Nothing could be more simple and down to earth than this tapa, but its appeal is universal. It originated in Catalunya, but can now be found all over Spain. In fact, I will never forget a breakfast of exceptional pan con tomate and steaming café con leche at an outdoor café overlooking the mountains of Granada in Galera, a town of cave dwellings. The recipe that follows has the advantage of last-minute assemblage, so the bread doesn't get soggy. Since ingredients are few, it goes without saying that the very best tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil, and anchovies are essential. If last-minute preparation is not a problem, I suggest the even simpler traditional method of toasting the bread, rubbing it with a cut clove of garlic, then rubbing with a cut tomato, squeezing the tomato gently as you rub. Drizzle with oil and sprinkle with salt.

Bagna cauda is a warm, garlicky dip traditionally served with raw vegetables. It hails from northwestern Italy's Piedmont region. In this version, the sauce is served with cooked artichokes. And don’t be scared off by the three heads of garlic called for in this recipe. Simmering the garlic mellows its flavor significantly.

A take on the Provençal tart known as pissaladiére, this galette can be served as an hors d'oeuvre or, with a salad, as a light lunch. It gets fullness of flavor from a tangle of sweet caramelized onions that tops a smear of tomato paste enlivened with garlic and anchovies (left over from Mediterranean Eggplant Relish). A flaky homemade pastry crust ups the richness even more.

Just a couple of chopped anchovy fillets deepen the flavor of this simple starter.

Serve with pita toasts or crackers, or smear it on grilled chicken breast or tuna steaks for a main course.

Even those who prefer their tuna raw or quickly seared will be won over by this preparation. Marinated in a savory anchovy-lemon dressing, the tuna steaks are cooked until their centers are pale pink but still quite juicy. The bold flavors continue in the colorful sauce of briefly cooked tomatoes, black olives, capers, celery, and basil.

The French custom of serving radishes with sweet butter and sea salt is a lesson in simplicity; there's something so satisfying about a lick of creamy butter against the snap of peppery radish. Here, anchovy paste adds a singular savor to the butter, but the ease of the tradition remains. It's worth seeking out small radishes like the French Breakfast variety; if you can find only big ones, just halve them.

Salads made with hearty romaine stand up well to strong flavors like garlic, lemon, and pungent Parmigiano-Reggiano. The chopped anchovies lend depth and savor, not fishiness, to the dressing.

Many riffs on Caesar salad are too heavily dressed, but here a hefty handful of basil keeps things fresh and herbal.

Even if you don't like anchovies, you've got to give this a try. First of all, you can't beat freshly steamed artichokes—nibbling the flesh from the little leaves, gobbling the tender heart. And the insanely good anchovy butter has absolutely no relation to the too-salty fish you may have had once at a takeout pizza joint. Instead, oil-packed anchovies contribute this subtle sea-salty punch that you just can't get from anything else.

This recipe originally accompanied Fritto Misto .

Consider this a reintroduction to some old standbys, because cauliflower, asparagus, and fennel taste utterly new with a mellow garlicky dressing. Food editor Kay Chun, who developed the recipe, prefers to use vegetable oil for its light, neutral flavor, which allows the garlic and the deep savor of anchovies to shine. Tossing the salad right before serving ensures that it retains its crunch.