Roast

While Peking Duck—which is a big deal—is reserved for special occasions, the simpler Cantonese version of roast duck is made far more routinely. It’s the duck you see hanging in rows in restaurant windows in every Chinatown in the country. Because this is often served at room temperature—or as an ingredient in stir-fries—you can make it ahead of time. If you want to serve it hot, accompany it with rice, noodles, or a panfried noodle cake like the one that forms the base for Shrimp with Crisp-Fried Noodles (page 534), and use hoisin as a dipping sauce.

Italians use leaner ducks than we do, so this is a compromise recipe: Italian flavors with American duck. The best Marsala is called vergine. It is really delicious and makes a subtle but real difference here. But standard Marsala will work fine. If you have time, make a quick stock using the duck neck and giblets—just simmer them in water to cover while you are roasting the duck. Then you’ll have it for the final sauce. This would be great with polenta, if you feel like making it (page 529), but also with crusty bread or even plain rice.

You can make this Provençal dish with whole duck, but it’s also great with legs. The covered pan-roasting does a good job of keeping the duck’s breast from drying out, while the legs become tender. It makes a lovely presentation, and the sauce is delicious. If you have only black olives, that’s fine, but add a tablespoon or two of capers to the mix. As with many (if not most) French dishes, this is best with bread and a salad.

Sauerkraut complements roast goose perfectly. The acidity cuts through the grease and adds a wonderful flavor. Don’t overestimate the number of people a goose will serve; it’s a large bird, but not a very meaty one.

From Southeast Asia via New York, a recipe based on one developed by my sometime coauthor and longtime Asian hand, Jean-Georges Vongerichten. Included here not because it is “authentic” in the true sense but because the flavor is truly Thai and it’s among the best Thai-inspired chicken recipes I know. Serve it with Sticky Rice (page 508). For information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla, see page 500.

How wonderful is the marriage between thyme and lamb? So wonderful that this dish conjures up visions of Greeks spit-roasting lamb or goat on rocky hills above the sea, basting it with branches of thyme dipped in olive oil. (Which is not a bad recipe itself, especially if you have the rocky hills and sea.) This lamb is lovely with a rice dish or simply with bread. Note, interestingly, that this recipe is virtually the same as the one that follows—except the flavors are distinctly different. Under many circumstances, I would have made one a variation of the other, but it would have seemed, in this case, to give one or the other short shrift. They’re both great. Other cuts of meat you can use here: thick cuts of “London broil” or flank steak.

Since it is made everywhere, it may be a stretch to call roast chicken “French”—but not to call it one of the simplest of the world’s great recipes. There are three keys to success: One, pay attention to the technique; it works. Two, start with a good chicken (find a free range or kosher chicken you like and stick with it); without it, the technique is wasted. And three, use butter if at all possible; the difference is profound. You can use this technique or any of the variations with baby chicken (poussin) or Cornish hens.

You can use a whole leg for this or a butterflied boneless leg—usually, you can buy boneless leg of lamb in the supermarket. You can grill or broil it (or, for that matter, roast in a hot oven); there are differences in timing and in flavor, but all the results are excellent, and it’s a dish you can use at any time of year. You can also make it more simply: rub a leg of lamb with olive oil, salt, pepper, and fresh thyme or rosemary. But I like it best as it is done in Provence, with a variety of herbs, along with some garlic. If you’re cooking this inside, serve it with Potatoes with Bay Leaves (page 481) or another roasted potato dish and a simple steamed vegetable. Outside, I’d grill some vegetables and perhaps some Crostini (page 41). One more comment: this is also great with boneless lamb shoulder, but because that is higher in fat, you must grill over lower heat, and carefully, to prevent burning.

Traditionally this bird is taken from the liquid and served without further cooking, hot or at room temperature. But I like to finish it by placing it in a hot oven where, in just five minutes, it develops a dark brown, crispy crust; this browning can also be done a few hours later. Perhaps the best thing about this sauce is that it can be used time and again, as long as you freeze it between uses (or refrigerate it and bring it to a rolling boil every few days) and top up the liquids now and then. Mei Kuei Lu Chiew wine is available at most Chinese markets for about $2 a bottle, and yellow rock sugar can be found at Chinese markets too.

Try to use branches of fresh oregano, marjoram, or fennel here; they really make a tremendous difference. The first two are grown by many gardeners, and a good gardener can probably spare some. Bronze—herb—fennel grows wild all over southern California and is easy to find (it’s also grown by some gardeners). Occasionally you can find one of these in a big bunch at a market, too; you’ll need a big bunch to try the grilling option. In any case, choose a fish with a simple bone structure so it can be served and eaten easily. The best for this purpose are sea bass, red snapper, grouper, striped bass, and mackerel. One advantage in using the oven over the grill is that in roasting you can add some peeled, chunked potatoes to the bottom of the roasting pan as well; they’ll finish cooking along with the onions.

Dates, of course, are a staple food of the Sahara and many other deserts; they grow on palm trees, keep forever, and, to nomads, are far more important than any bread product. But only in coastal North Africa and parts of the Middle East does date country meet the sea and a dish like this come about. Substitute prunes for dates if you prefer. A simple pilaf, chosen from among those on pages 513 to 514, would be great here, as would Houria (page 191).

Lemongrass, the seasoning most closely associated with Southeast Asia, plays a major role here, despite the presence of many other ingredients. Nothing else “cleans” the taste of the fish quite like it. Serve with any rice dish.

Matambre, which means “hunger killer” or “hunger fighter” in Spanish, is one of Argentina’s best and best-known culinary exports, a rolled flank steak stuffed with spices, vegetables, and hard-cooked eggs that makes a fabulous presentation. Matambre is prepared and served in a variety of ways. I like it best roasted, then chilled, pressed, and sliced. Prepare it on a Saturday night during the summer, unveil it Sunday afternoon, and spend the remainder of the day picking at it and drinking well-chilled Argentinean red wine. Serve with Chimichurri (page 617) or any salsa. Freeze the meat for 30 minutes or so before slicing; the firmer meat will make the job easier.

This traditional Cantonese dish can be eaten with rice or noodles, tossed into a fried rice or noodle dish, or used to stuff into a sweet bun. It’s beloved by all meat eaters and a great dish for parties.

This is a Mediterranean dish that can be done more authentically if you can get your hands on branches of fresh edible bay (laurel), but that’s not always easy (you could use rosemary or fennel branches quite successfully, and they’re equally traditional, though obviously different in flavor). In the original version, you throw a few branches of bay (laurel) onto a grill and top with sausage. My oven method uses somewhat less bay and is virtually foolproof. Other cuts of meat you can use here: chunks of pork or lamb, cut from the shoulder, or boneless chicken thighs.

An international dish if ever there was one (the Philippine version is quite similar and you can find others around the globe) and one that can be spiced with as little as a rub of garlic, salt, and pepper or a little more elaborately, as is this one. Use a bone-in loin cut, from the rib (shoulder) end, or simply a boneless shoulder (picnic or butt) roast. This is the pork that is best used for Sandwich Cubano (page 363).

A useful technique for any dark-fleshed fish, including whole mackerel or bluefish (which may be stuffed with the onion mixture), steaks of Spanish mackerel, or fillets of pompano; adjust the cooking time accordingly. I really like pasta before this—something quite simple, like Pasta with Pepper and Cheese (page 547) or Pasta with Broccoli Raab (page 552).

Most vegetables can be prepared with little more than olive oil and salt, but few are as rewarding as beets, which can be stunningly delicious when done this way. One key is to bake them—which dries out their flesh a little bit and concentrates their flavor—rather than boil them. (Think of the difference between a baked and a boiled potato.) It takes some time, but it is easy and reduces staining. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: carrots or parsnips (peel before roasting), turnips or rutabagas; cooking time will vary.

This dish sparks a vision of an ice fisher on a frozen Eastern European lake, bringing home a fresh carp, combining it with two of that region’s winter staples—bacon and sauerkraut—and roasting it over a hot fire. What a treat that must have been and what a relief from what might have been months without any fresh meat or fish at all. It’s a great dish in a warm winter kitchen in the twenty-first century, too. Use sauerkraut that is fresh or packed in plastic (never canned), which contains no more than cabbage and salt; real sauerkraut needs no preservatives. Serve the dish with mashed or boiled potatoes.

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.