Potato

Once, for a special occasion, I produced potatoes Anna—a dish in which potatoes are thinly sliced, drenched in butter, and roasted until golden, the ultimate in crisp potato dishes—for my daughter Emma. This was a fatal error, because potatoes Anna are a pain to make, contain about a week’s allotment of butter, and were forever in demand thereafter. So I set about shortcutting the process, creating something approaching an entire meal. I cut back on the butter (when attacks of conscience strike, I substitute olive oil) and enlisted the broiler to speed the browning process. I figured that it would be just as easy to broil something on top of the potatoes during the last few minutes of cooking and, after a few tries, I found a thick fillet of fish to be ideal. The result is this simple weeknight dish that I now make routinely and one that even impresses guests.

For potato salads, my dressing of choice is usually a simple vinaigrette—here no more than oil and vinegar—augmented by a handful each of chopped shallots for crunch and flavor and parsley for color and freshness. The result is a great summer dish, good-looking and good tasting. As it stands, this is a potato salad with mussels; if you like, you can increase the amount of mussels, by as much as double, giving each component equal weight.

This caribbean-inspired sweet potato soup is always appropriate in hot weather and makes an unusual starter for a meal off the grill. Serve it hot or cold; by all means chill it in warm weather, but remember it in winter. Whether you’re reheating it or serving it cold, make the soup as far in advance as you like, up to a couple of days. If you’re so inclined, you can make this soup even richer and sweeter by using half chicken stock and half canned coconut milk.

Always cook the vegetables for a creamy soup until tender, but no more than that. Spinach is tender in a couple of minutes; potatoes, cut into chunks, will require no more than ten or fifteen. Almost nothing will take longer than that. Cover the pot while the vegetables cook to prevent too much of the stock from evaporating.

Anyone who’s ever had a garden or raided a corn field knows that when corn is young you can eat it cob and all and that the cob has as much flavor as the kernels. That flavor remains even when the cob has become inedibly tough, and you can take advantage of it by using it as the base of a corn chowder—a corn stock, if you will. Into that stock can go some starch for bulk, a variety of seasonings from colonial to contemporary, and, finally, the corn kernels. The entire process takes a half hour or a little bit longer, and the result is a thick, satisfying, late summer chowder.

In its traditional form, this cold potato-and-leek soup borders on boring: potatoes, leeks (or onions or a combination), water or stock, salt and pepper, butter, and cream. What little complexity the soup has comes from butter, lots of salt and pepper, good stock, and, of course, cream. But if you add other vegetables, like garlic and carrots, things become more interesting. And you can nudge the soup over into gazpacho territory by adding a tomato to the mix, along with basil. Some protein, like shrimp, can turn it into more of a whole-meal soup.

Boiled potatoes and sour cream are a classic Eastern European combination, but this recipe takes the idea a step further to produce a rich, full-flavored main course that is especially great in winter. Serve with a light salad and rice or crisp bread.

These are chicken croquettes with North African flavors. Leftover mashed potatoes and chicken are absolutely acceptable and you can use cooked cod (or other white-fleshed fish) in place of chicken. Any vegetable or salad will round this out nicely.

Caraway seeds bring their interesting, bitter character to this simple soup, which is produced throughout Eastern Europe. It’s light but flavorful when made vegetarian, richer and more robust with bacon and beef stock. The Scandinavian variation is even simpler (and sweeter). To crush the caraway seeds, put them in a small plastic bag or wrap them in plastic or wax paper and press on them with the bottom of a pot (or other heavy object) or go over them with a rolling pin.

Perhaps the most commonly seen tapa of all, this is a dish I have loved eating (and making) since I first visited Spain more than twenty years ago. Don’t be put off by the large quantity of olive oil; much of it will be poured off (and will have a lovely taste, so you can use it for sautéing; refrigerate in the meantime).

Although this stew has much in common with the humble American beef stew, it is legitimately Japanese and wonderfully flavored with soy, ginger, mirin (the Japanese sweet cooking wine, for which sugar or honey is an adequate substitute), winter squash, and, perhaps best of all, the peel and juice of a lemon. The combination is one of simple and delicious counterpoints that make this a great stew. Ambitious cooks may want to include dashi, the quickly made stock that is one of the most fundamental flavors of Japanese cooking, but the stew is great when made with chicken stock or, for that matter, water. Other cuts of meat you can use here: short ribs (which will require longer cooking time), bone-in chicken thighs (which will cook more quickly), veal shoulder or round.

A simple beef stew with some guts. If you can get your hands on fresh horseradish, substitute peeled 1/4-inch-thick slices of it for about half the potatoes; it develops a mild flavor and pleasant texture as it cooks. (Horseradish loses most of its harshness with heat; that’s why you do not add the prepared horseradish until the last few minutes of cooking.) Other cuts of meat you can use here: lamb or veal shoulder.

Choucroute, the Alsatian specialty, is a near-perfect party dish: you can easily make it in advance and in quantity. This version, with boiled potatoes cooked right in, is also a one-pot dish. Serve it with bread— preferably good rye or pumpernickel—and you’re all set. (Well, you’ll also need some hot mustard and beer or Alsatian wine.) Feel free to vary the meats however you like. But, as is always the case, buy sauerkraut that is either sold in bulk or packed in plastic and contains no more than cabbage and salt.

Like most braised dishes, this stew takes time but, once the initial browning is done, very little work. There are times I consider browning optional, but this isn’t one of them, because the dish is so simple that you need the complexity browning brings. Serve with Pilaf (page 513) or another rice dish. Other cuts of meat you can use here: beef chuck, brisket, or round (all of which will take somewhat longer than the lamb); pork shoulder; lamb shanks (again, longer cooking); or veal shoulder or round.

A classic French lamb stew, this happy marriage of fruit and meat is updated here by the addition of a bit of orange, which enlivens the flavor. The peas and potatoes are an optional accompaniment; you could serve this with mashed potatoes or a potato gratin like the one on page 482.

Lamb stew is a quintessential spring dish that can be a real celebration—or unbearably heavy. The difference has little to do with the lamb and much to do with the vegetables: If the stew sports color and lots of different flavors, it is lovely, almost light. If, on the other hand, it contains little besides lamb and potatoes, it becomes the cafeteria-style “Irish stew” that gave the dish a bad name in the first place. This is how it’s done in Scandinavia—bright, colorful, and fresh tasting. In other parts of northern Europe, parsley might be substituted for the dill; it’s just as good. Other cuts of meat you can use here: beef chuck or brisket (which will require somewhat longer cooking time), veal shoulder.

The combination of lamb, thyme, garlic, and lemon is so perfect that this dish—simple as it is—is among my favorites. Needless to say, the slow-cooked potatoes, stewed in the pan juices, become rather fabulous. Other cuts of meat you can use here: boneless lamb or pork shoulder or shoulder lamb chops, all of which will cook more quickly than the shanks; short ribs; beef chuck or brisket; veal shank (osso buco).

The ideal dish for when you have leftover meat and potatoes, this can also be made from scratch, by cutting raw potatoes into small cubes and browning them, then cutting meat into small cubes and browning it with the onions. This preparation is undeniably more elegant, but the recipe here, I feel, is more in tune with the spirit of the dish. If you don’t like the idea of raw egg (which, I assure you, is entirely in keeping with tradition), fry or poach the eggs, then top the hash with them. Other cuts of meat you can use here: boneless pork.

Marginally different from the preceding dish, but enough so that I thought its inclusion worthwhile, Gobi Taktakin is a dish made on the streets of India, where they use knives to mince the cauliflower as it sautés on huge flat griddles. (The dish’s onomatopoeic name alludes to the tak-tak-tak sound of two knives simultaneously mincing and tossing the cauliflower as it sautés. To spare your pans the extra wear, it’s better to chop the cauliflower in advance.) Best with homemade curry powder or garam masala. Cumin seeds add a nice crunch, and cilantro adds a fresh note at the end, but neither is essential. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: broccoli, potatoes, carrots, turnips, radishes.

Plantains, a staple throughout much of Africa, are spiced up here to be served as a slightly sweet side dish. Warm, deeply satisfying, and quick, this is unusual and good even on weeknights. Best with West African, Caribbean (especially Lechon Asado, page 375), Mexican, and South American dishes. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: green bananas or potatoes, both of which will need longer cooking time.