Stew

At the top of the garden, past the sunny stone terrace, the little beds of vegetables and the unruly shrubs, is a thicket, less than ten feet (three meters) deep but just enough to give the whole garden an unkempt, relaxed feel. Here lie the compost bins with their lids of rotting carpet, green plastic bags of decaying leaf mold, and four small trees of damson, hazel, mirabelle, and a King James mulberry—the latter being a “guardian” tree planted in the northernmost corner to protect the garden from the north wind. In between grow drifts of snowdrops, wild garlic sent by a friend from Cornwall, and fraises de bois, with which this garden is littered, and whose flowers twinkle like tiny stars in spring. The work in this part of the garden is mostly done in winter, if only because the leaflessness of the trees makes it possible to see what you are doing. It is always dark and cold here, and damp, too. I come in from turning the compost or cutting hazel twigs with my feet like ice, my fingers numb. Invariably it’s a Saturday, when I have been early to The Ginger Pig for my sausages. I leave them to bake with parsnips and stock. A slow bowl of food, which often sits patiently until I come in, too chilled to the bone to do anything but eat.

This extraordinarily deep-flavored stew is one for a day when there is frost on the ground. The inclusion of applesauce isn’t quite as daft as it sounds, and there is much magic to be found at the point where the sharp applesauce oozes into the onion gravy. Boiled potatoes as big as your fist, their edges bruised and floury, are the ideal accompaniment.

To our list of ingredients that balance the leek’s (and onion’s) tendency toward sweetness, we can add green peppercorns. Outside the anise-scented emporiums of Chinatown they are difficult to track down in their fresh state, but bottled ones in brine are perhaps even better here. Deep-winter stuff, this. Some fresh, crisp greens might be appropriate with it, some winter salad leaves or maybe a plate of lightly cooked spinach. Whatever, I do recommend some plain, steamed potatoes to balance the general richness. Green peppercorns in brine are available in cans or bottles from well-stocked specialty markets and delicatessens.

Users of The Kitchen Diaries may feel they recognize this recipe. Previously I have always made it with cubed lamb, but I recently tried it with lamb shanks and left it overnight before reheating it. The presence of the bone and fat and the good night’s sleep have made such a difference that I thought it worth repeating here. You could make it a day or two in advance to good end.

The soup-stew, a bowl of spoon-tender meat, beans, and aromatics that partly collapse into the surrounding stock, is one of the suppers I hold dearest. More often taken as lunch, this is food that feeds the soul as much as the belly, enriching, calming, quietly energizing. This is the cooking on which to lavish the cheapest cuts going, the fatty, bony lumps that butchers sell at reduced prices: mostly cuts from the neck and lower legs. Ingredients whose sole purpose is to give body to the liquid in which they cook. A knuckle end of prosciutto would be a sound addition here, if your local deli will sell you one. Most will charge very little. Butchers are an excellent source of ham bones with much meat attached. Failing that, I use a lump of ham, complete with its thick layer of fat.

A damp January morning (2006) and a walk round the vegetable patch reveals only two herbs in reasonable condition: rosemary, which loses some of its potency in winter, and parsley, most of which has collapsed in a dead faint to the ground. I value both enormously, feeling even now that they have an edge on the imported basil and spindly thyme in the markets. Both respond well to earthy winter cooking. Chilled to the bone (I find it’s the damp that gets to me more than the temperature), I come in and use the parsley where it really matters: in a pan of braised artichokes and pork sausage, whose brown depths I freshen up with Italian lemons and, at its side, some crisp and chewy greens.

Hot, clean, and vibrant, a mouth-popping stew for scooping up with soft, warm naan or, if you prefer, rice. Should you want something richer and less spicy, then stir in a carton of yogurt, about 1 cup (250g), at the end and simmer for a further seven or eight minutes.

A lovely, deeply flavored vegetable stew. This is one of those dishes that is all the better for a day in the fridge, during which time the flavors seem to mellow. I have kept it quite spicy but the final seasoning will depend on how hot your chiles are, and you will need to adjust it accordingly. Something to take your time over. I eat it with steamed basmati rice.

Sicily’s cooks make much of the eggplant. They fry it in crisp disks, with mint and vinegar; bake it with tomato sauce and salty caciocavallo cheese; stuff it with anchovies, parsley, and capers; or grill it over charcoal before seasoning with garlic and oregano. Occasionally, they will roll up a thick jam of eggplant in soft disks of dough like a savory strudel, called scaccie, while all the time matching it to the Arab-influenced exotica of their cupboards: anchovies, olives, fennel, mint, pomegranates, currants, and pine nuts. The thin, Turkish eggplant with the bulbous end is the one they prefer, though you could use any shape for their famous caponata, the rich sweet-sour stew braised with celery, golden raisins, vinegar, and bell peppers. I can eat this fragrant, amber slop at any time of year, but somehow I always end up making it when the sun is shining, eating it outside with flat, chewy bread and maybe some grilled sardines flecked with torn mint leaves and lemon. If you make it the day before, its character—salty, sweet, and sour—will have time to settle itself.

If a cauliflower is happiest under a comfort blanket of cream and cheese, we can run with the idea, dropping the cheese and introducing some of the milder, more fragrant spices such as coriander and cardamom into the cream instead. With its toasted cashews and crisp finish of spiced fried onions, this is a mild dish, so I see no reason to soften the blow with steamed rice, preferring instead to eat it with a crunchy salad of Belgian endive and watercress (or some such crisp, hot leaf ), using it to wipe the sauce from my plate.

Fesenjan combines fruit and meat, a Persian cooking style that traveled to Europe in the Middle Ages. This version gets its deep ruby color from the addition of beets (shown opposite). Served with rice, this stew makes for a sumptuous feast. Instead of chicken, try using duck or tempeh. Look for pomegranate syrup at natural and Middle Eastern food stores. If you can’t find pomegranate syrup, substitute 2 1/2 cups of unsweetened pomegranate juice and leave out the stock.

Rutabagas are a robust winter standby that lend themselves well to Asian dishes, where they can act as a sweeter stand-in for the turnips often used in Chinese, Japanese, and Korean cooking. I use chicken stock in this recipe because its richness brings all of the subtle flavors of the dish alive. The star anise lends this soup a fragrant, smoky sweetness.

This is a very comforting, home-style dish, perfect for a blustery autumn day. Be sure to use only firm tofu for this recipe; softer varieties will fall apart during cooking. The trio of cultivated shiitake, enoki, and shimeji mushrooms is a classic combination in Japanese cooking, and it adds a nice woodsy and earthy flavor to this dish. You can use other kinds of mushrooms, too, if you’d like, everything from the humble button mushroom to fancier porcinis or chanterelles—whatever your budget allows.

Credit my Irish-Italian, Chicago-native wife, Kathy, for inspiring this dish. She loves corned beef, a Windy City favorite, so I’ve cooked it many times for my family. But I’ve always thought it was a shame that we enjoyed the delicious brisket but ignored the flavorful cooking broth, which typically isn’t consumed. So I thought, look at it the Japanese way—add noodles. I tried it and it tasted fantastic. So now when I make corned beef, my Irish-Italian-Japanese children always look forward to corned beef broth noodles with leftovers the next day. This dish takes time to cook slowly, but it’s easy to prepare. You can also use leftover corned beef for hash and sandwiches.

Oxtail is a favorite ingredient in countries as diverse as Jamaica, France, and Korea. When you taste it, it’s not hard to understand why. To release oxtail’s rich, sublime flavors, though, you must slowly braise it for hours until the meat is absolutely tender. It’s worth the wait.

This dish was inspired by Korean cooking, which is extremely popular in Japan. With a hearty and spicy broth, it’s perfect for wintertime, when crabs are at their peak flavor. I like to serve this dish in individual Asian hot pot dishes, but you can also combine this recipe into one big pot and ladle into bowls. If you’re using live crabs, be sure to remove the head, gills, and tough outer shells before cooking.

Although somen is typically a summertime food, here’s a delicious, fragrant dish you can enjoy year-round. I love cooking with traditional clay pots, which add a nice homey touch. They also keep food warm and, best of all, make a dramatic presentation—especially when you lift the lid to release this dish’s seductive aroma. You can find these vessels (called “donabe” in Japanese) in Asian markets, or you can substitute a Dutch oven or any sturdy pot with a lid (enamel or cast-iron pots work great). If you’re using a pot, combine all the servings and set the pot, covered, on a heatproof dish on your dining table. Remove the lid with a flourish and ladle into bowls. You’ll see that I call for an udon broth for this recipe. So why not udon noodles? Chicken and eggplant are lighter foods that perfectly complement the lighter somen noodle, while the udon broth adds body and flavor to this hot dish. I use violet-colored Chinese eggplants, which are about the size of zucchini and cook quicker than the larger, more common varieties.

Spice alert: this ramen is guaranteed to make you sweat. These snappy noodles are very popular in Japan, even in the summer—some people, I guess, don’t find our sultry and humid hot season sticky enough! I, for one, prefer this ramen in the winter, because its rich pork and miso broth is warm and comforting.

In this hearty ramen, stir-fried vegetables are combined with seafood and pork to create a rich, filling dish with lots of flavors and textures. When I was growing up, this was one of my favorite foods after baseball practice—the noodles refueled me quickly, and deliciously, and helped me stave off hunger until dinnertime. These days, it’s the perfect antidote to a gray, frigid winter day.

The Savannah River is one of Georgia’s longest and largest rivers and defines most of the boundary between Georgia and South Carolina. I’ve seen photos of my grandfather and his brother with catfish almost as big as a man that they caught in the Savannah River. Wild catfish that live in rivers, lakes, and ponds are bottom dwellers, and the flesh picks up a distinctively earthy flavor. For years, there were catfish in our pond even though the pond was solely stocked with bass and bream. Dede explained to me when I was young that the catfish eggs would be transported on the wings and feet of the water birds. So, it was something special when we would catch them. We’d catch these monsters, and they terrified me, with their flat black mouths and whiskers popping as they flailed on the shore. The whiskers are scary, but they are not what hurts. Dede had a few special tools in his tackle box to deal with catfish. The fish have sharp spines on their fins, and he would fearlessly grab them behind the head and clip off the fins with pliers. Catfish also differ in that they don’t have scales. But their skin is tough and they have to be skinned before they are eaten. He’d hammer a nail through their head into the tree and, using the same pliers, peel the skin off the fish like taking off a sock from your foot. If you are not catching your own, make a point to buy American farm-raised catfish, which are fed a diet of high-protein pellets made from soybean meal, corn, and rice that give the flesh a consistent, sweet, mild flavor. You just don’t know what you are getting if you buy imported fish.