Spring

My son Monte and I both love fresh apricots. Living in Southern California, we’re lucky to get them in abundance. I created this recipe for him. He loves the subtly sweet cornmeal muffin punctuated by bites of tart apricot. (Okay, I admit I’m paraphrasing—he is only five.)

This is a good transitional soup for spring; it’s hearty like winter soups, but boasts the fresh flavors of zucchini, parsley, and dill. Taste often to adjust the myriad of flavors to your liking. Consider making any of the muffins on pages 149 to 151 to serve with the soup.

Arborio rice, the same rice used in risotto, makes a comforting base for a spring soup, perfect for drizzly spring evenings.

For some years, my family has belonged to a community-supported farm. In late spring, there is a plethora of greens of all kinds—Asian greens, spinach, and lettuce. At some point there seems to be more than can be used in a week, even by my veggie-loving family. That’s when I turn to this recipe—it has become an annual tradition! Make sure all greens are very well washed.

I recommend steaming the green beans separately, and adding them once the asparagus is tender-crisp. The result is a satisfying Asian-flavored stew with the green vegetables all done just right.

You’ll love making and serving this earthy medley of colors, textures, and flavors on a rainy spring evening.

Brimming with fresh produce in a light, mildly seasoned broth, this is just the soup to serve as an introduction to a festive spring meal such as Easter dinner or the Passover seder.

Feel free to experiment with cheeses besides Parmesan. Try mozzarella, feta, or provolone—each makes a completely different meal. Fresh wild mushrooms, such as chanterelle or shiitake, add a complex, earthy flavor, but dried mushrooms work well, too, and may be easier to find. I like to keep dried wild mushrooms in my pantry for spur-of-the-moment dishes. Sometimes I place them in a bowl, cover with boiling water, and let sit for fifteen minutes to soften, then drain and use. Other times I simply chop the dried mushrooms and throw them into the pot for a chewier version that adds another texture to the meal.

Paella is a traditional Spanish dish of saffron-infused rice cooked with a variety of meats and vegetables. It varies from season to season and from region to region in Spain. A good paella often contains some crunchy, toasted rice on the bottom of the pot as a counterpoint to the smooth grains. Typical paellas include a mix of proteins such as chorizo sausage, shrimp, and mussels along with chicken. Feel free to mix and match, using a total of 1/2 to 3/4 pound. This version takes advantage of the springtime arrival of fresh peas and morel mushrooms. To add a bright note to this recipe, include the grated zest of half a lemon sprinkled on the mushroom layer. Consider substituting white wine for some or all of the liquid.

Soft-shell crabs are one of the great luxuries of spring. They may be expensive if you’re feeding them to a crowd. But just for one person, why not treat yourself ? If the soft-shell crabs are good-sized, I’ll eat only two, but I prefer the small ones and can devour three easily along with a spring vegetable. I usually buy them from a fishmonger at the end of the day. That way, he can do the killing and the cleaning, because they will be popped into the pan as soon as I get home.

I had never cooked with sorrel until I worked with André Soltner on his Lutèce cookbook. He was then the devoted chef-owner of the restaurant, on East Fiftieth Street in Manhattan, but he never forgot his roots in Alsace. There, leafy green sorrel is common, and its tart flavor accents any number of dishes. So it was not surprising that when André was developing a sauce for that quintessential American specialty, shad roe, his secret ingredient was sorrel. However, sorrel was not so easy to find in markets in those days, and André would have to bring an armful of handpicked sorrel from his own garden in the Catskills down to the Lutèce kitchen, so as not to disappoint his loyal customers. Later, when my husband and I bought our summer place in the Northeast Kingdom of Vermont, we discovered that wild sorrel grew abundantly in the surrounding woods and in the garden. I even planted a cultivated variety to make sure we had enough, and I soon dubbed sorrel, along with gooseberries, the lemons of the North. And now that Lutèce is no more, and I can’t enjoy a lunch there, I celebrate this spring delight by making myself André’s delectable shad roe with sorrel sauce.

I learned to roast my asparagus from Nina Simonds, the expert on health giving Asian foods, and after trying it the first time, I’ve never turned back. I buy a full 1/2 pound and extract about four spears before roasting, to save for a stir-fry. Leftovers make a wonderful BLA (see below) or just a salad.

Bluefish and mackerel are both rather fatty fish, and they take well to broiling, particularly when the fillet sits on a bed of flavorful vegetables and they exchange flavors. I also like this preparation because it requires only one pan. If it’s a handsome fireproof baking dish, it can come right to the table. Otherwise, scoop everything up with a spatula and serve on a warm plate.

I love lamb chops, and I can’t resist when I find a pair of loin chops at least 1 inch thick sitting side by side in a shrink-wrapped package at the meat counter. Expensive? Yes, and I don’t really need two of them. But I give in and set aside the uneaten portion of the second one to tuck into a small casserole of French lentils. It makes an appealing second dinner.

Shortcakes remind me of the ice cream socials we used to have in my small town when I was growing up. We always had strawberry shortcakes, but now I throw raspberries into my version to make them a little bit fancier and a lot more fun. I also make them free-form—by not using a biscuit cutter, I get cakes that look craggy and knobby, kind of like little toads. But they have a beautiful crumbly texture and act like sponges for the fruit juice without getting soggy. These are SOOOOO delicious that I can hoover a few of them in one sitting!

Baby arties are much easier to prepare than big ones and you don’t end up with nearly as much waste. They’re a perfect side when they’re in season—they go beautifully with meat or fish and just scream springtime. Whenever I tell people I’m making artichokes they go, “Ohhh! Artichokes!!!” They just sound exciting.

Fava beans require some preparation, but to me it’s a labor of love. Shelling and peeling them may seem like a drag, but it’s SOOOOO worth the effort. Mix them with some luxurious mushrooms and sexy spring onions, and you end up with springtime on a plate. I love this combo so much I wish these veggies were in season all year long!

Farro is an ancient grain that’s used in traditional Tuscan and Umbrian cooking—kind of like a cross between barley and wheat berries. I love making farro in the style of risotto—a.k.a. farrotto. By using my Risotto-Without-a-Recipe technique (page 136) and substituting farro for rice, you end up with something rich and chewy and nutty all at the same time. Like risotto, farrotto is a blank canvas for whatever you’re feeling passionate about. Whatever ingredients are in season, whatever flavors you’re in the mood for, whatever’s freshest. Whenever I cook for big events and have to feed a lot of people, I always make farrotto because it’s quick, it doesn’t cost a lot, and it’s a huge crowd pleaser. It’s a win-win-win.

Fava beans are one of those things I wait for all year long. When you talk about seasonal cooking, fava beans immediately come to my mind because when they’re fresh, there’s really nothing like them. I was one of the weird kids who grew up liking lima beans—in fact, I asked for them every birthday dinner (why my mother didn’t just serve them to me on a regular basis I’m not really sure). Fava beans to me are a jacked-up version of lima beans, so you can imagine how much I like them. I feature them in this sauce, but then I tuck some sweet pea and cheese action into the ravioli so you get a little pocket of pea-ness on your plate along with those lovely favas!

I call these my little Parmigiano puddings and when I say they are easy to pull together, I’m SOOOOO not kidding. They’re also easily made ahead of time—in fact, I recommend doing so—and they’re a huge crowd pleaser at a party. Just put them in a 300°F oven for 5 to 7 minutes to take the chill off before serving.