Side

It took me a long time to figure out what was in this mysteriously flavored concoction, and even then I had to ask my host (who was from Kashmir, where this is common) what was going on here. The apples and eggplant complement each other perfectly, to the point where each loses a bit of its identity and gains something unusual. Serve this as a side dish any time you like, not just with Indian food.

I never did find out what this was called in Germany, but I do know it’s surprisingly good even though it’s the kind of concoction you’d come up with to make use of the last three ingredients in the house. The pears’ sweetness offsets the saltiness of the ham (this is a good place to use ordinary ham, as long as it’s not too sweet; prosciutto or the like would be overkill), the green beans add freshness (and welcome color), and the three distinct textures make the eating fun. Serve with simply cooked meat or fish.

Like many Mediterranean vegetables, these are cooked until quite soft—none of this crisp-tender business—and commonly served at room temperature, making it a fine dish to prepare in advance.

Closely related in flavor and spirit to the classic French pissenlit (dandelion greens with bacon), this differs in that the greens are cooked from the start. Also, though it may be finished with lemon, vinegar is almost never used. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: any relatively tender, bitter green—curly endive, escarole, dandelion, even Belgian endive, cut crosswise.

This is an excellent side dish, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with salt, the base of an elegant salad—combine it with Gorgonzola and walnuts, for example—or a fine topping for Grilled Polenta (page 530) or Crostini (page 41). Other vegetables to prepare this way: split Belgian endives (use four), or even small heads of romaine lettuce.

Endives have a couple of things going for them: they’re grown inside (mostly in the dark, so they stay white), so they’re fresh all year round; they have great form and nice crunchy texture; they are unusually bitter, but in a pleasant way. Cooked—especially with good stock—they are elegant and delicious. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: leeks (split and washed), romaine lettuce (quartered, the long way), or any root vegetable—especially carrots.

The bright green stir-fry of Chinese restaurants. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: if you can’t find gai lan, use broccoli raab or even collards or kale; broccoli or cauliflower will work too.

Think of this as the Middle Eastern version of creamed spinach, served at room temperature. The yogurt is uncooked, which keeps it fresh and tangy. Other vegetables to prepare this way: spinach.

Kale and collards are interchangeable here; just make sure to discard any stems more than 1/8 inch thick—they will not cook in time. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: any dark greens, like turnip, mustard, dandelion; shredded cabbage of any type.

Leeks have an alluring, herbaceous flavor unlike any other allium, and this simple salad is a great way to show it off. With slight adjustments in cooking time and quantity of vinaigrette you could substitute scallions, ramps, or, for that matter, shallots or pearl onions.

A simple little thing (the hardest part is cleaning the leeks) but delicious. The sweetness of the carrots really comes through, and the reserved olive oil adds a nice touch. Good with sautéed or roast poultry or meats. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Belgian endive (cut in half the long way), bok choy, and chard are all good.

As with all braised vegetable dishes, the results here depend largely on the quality of two ingredients: the vegetable itself and the braising liquid. Since it’s easy enough to find good leeks, you have to be certain that the red wine is, if not great, then at least drinkable; and if you have good homemade stock, this is the place to use it. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Belgian endive, split in half the long way; onions, halved or quartered (or spring onions, left whole).

This is a mild, rich side dish, one that can double as a sauce for buttered noodles or rice (it can be served on toast too). With chanterelles or other wild mushrooms, it’s a dream, but even with button mushrooms it’s super. If you have spring onions, this is the place to use them; otherwise, leeks are a great substitute.

An unusual preparation, though you might not think so if it included meat. I like it best with a combination of medium-sized black olives, like Kalamatas, and large green ones, particularly the type that come from Sicily, but any combination will do. A great side dish, especially with sautéed chicken, useful too as a topping for Crostini (page 41) or—thinned if necessary—as a pasta sauce. If the olives are very, very salty—only an occasional problem—parboil them in water to cover for a few minutes before starting.

I like this best with shallots, which are prettier and tastier than boiling onions. Some people add raisins (about 1/4 cup, from the beginning), which does not turn me on. Others garnish with toasted pine nuts, a nice but unnecessary touch. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: almost any member of the onion family, including leeks, scallions, and any kind of onion—if the onions are large, peel and quarter them, then insert a toothpick into each quarter to hold it together during the cooking.

A simple and delicious way to use onions as a vegetable, one that long ago became part of the Middle American repertoire but has sadly dropped out. Time for a revival? This dish is unquestionably best with small onions—pearl onions—or with cipollini, the squat Italian variety, or the very fresh spring onions, usually sold only at that time of year and looking like scallions on steroids. It will work almost as well with leeks, which should be trimmed first, then parboiled for 2 or 3 minutes. If you must use larger onions, parboil for a good 10 minutes before peeling and baking. Convert this to a gorgeous spring gratin by adding a handful each of fresh wild mushrooms, like morels, and fresh peas to the mix. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: shallots, treated exactly as you would pearl onions.

A small and perfectly easy dish. The finishing touch of hot sesame oil is a common garnish in Hong Kong and a nice one.

Everyone who grows red peppers roasts red peppers, because it is, to use a legal term, their highest and best use. Once they’re roasted, you can include them in a variety of recipes found here and in other books, or you can sauté them with onion and tomato, include them in stews, or put them on sandwiches. Arguably, they are at their best when served at room temperature, drizzled with oil and perhaps with some capers and anchovies. (They also keep very, very well, up to a few days, refrigerated.) You can roast these, grill them, or broil them; all methods work about equally well. Obviously, if you grill over wood, you’re going to get some added (and welcome) flavors.

A sweet classic, peperonata, like many vegetable stews, is easily varied: add chunks of potato, chicken, or zucchini or some minced garlic; a small chile or a bit of cayenne is also appropriate. Serve it hot as a side dish, warm as a topping for Crostini (page 41), or cold as a relish.

This is a side dish or an appetizer, but a very quick one, since piquillos (sold in cans or jars) are already cooked. You can use freshly roasted red peppers (page 470) as a substitute, but not canned pimientos, which will fall apart (and, in most cases, are tasteless anyway). Add a few anchovy fillets along with the garlic if you like.