So when the first stalks of rhubarb appeared at the farmers market, I decided to run with her flavor combination, in my take on an Eton Mess.

The resulting dessert is a bit on the savory side, thanks to the basil, the rhubarb, and the gin. The strawberries and cream add sweetness, and a cool freshness, to the proceedings. I’m tickled by how the meringues turned out: taffy-soft on the inside and crisp on the edges, redolent of basil and lemon in equal measure.

You can serve this dessert in a variety of ways:

• Stack the ingredients in a jelly jar, and bring them along for a picnic.
• Pretend you are a fancy pâtissier, and make large macaroons–cream, strawberries, and rhubarb jam sandwiched between two meringue coins.
• Layer the ingredients in a short fat glass, like a trifle. You can prepare these in advance for a dinner party, or allow guests to build-their-own.
• Double the meringue recipe, and make two cake-sized circles. From there, use the strawberries, the cream, and the jam as you would frosting, for a different take on birthday cake.

Regardless of how you serve it, this dessert reminds sweetly that it’s spring at last.

A note on making ahead: With the exception of the strawberries, which I think become quite sad after sitting around a while, you can make all parts of this dessert 1 day ahead.

Serves 4-6 people

Basil-Lemon Meringues:

Makes 16 meringues, 2-inches in diameter 

It’s almost like a magic trick: to start with such a small quantity of egg whites, and watch the volume increase tenfold. I love how these meringues turned out–now that I know how easy they are to make, and how sophisticated they look and taste, I think I’ll be experimenting with many more flavor combinations in the future. For this recipe, I took tips about proportions and temperature from Will Torrent’s book, Pâtisserie at Home, and advice about process from the wonderful home cooks at Food52.

Basil-Lemon Meringue Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup fresh basil leaves
  
• the zest of 1/2 a small lemon
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1/4 heaping cup egg whites (about 2 large eggs)
• the juice of 1/2 a small lemon (1 tablespoon)

Basil-Lemon Meringue Procedure:

1. Heat the oven to 225F.

2. Wash the basil and dry it well, and then move the leaves to the bowl of a food processor. Zest the lemon (directly into the food processor, for ease). Add 2 tablespoons of the sugar. Set the bowl aside.

3. Empty the eggs whites and the lemon juice into a metal mixing bowl. Set the mixing bowl over a simmering pot of water, and beat the whites using an electric mixer on medium-low speed; whisk for about 3 minutes, or until the egg whites begin to froth. Add 3 tablespoons of the sugar, and increase the speed to medium; whisk until the egg whites are a bit stiff, 4-5 minutes. Now add the remaining 3 tablespoons sugar, and whisk again, another 4-5 minutes. Turn off the heat under the water bath, and move the bowl to the countertop.

4. Pulse the food processor for about 20-30 seconds, until the basil and the lemon zest have incorporated into the sugar. (Wait to do this, until just before you add this sugar to the egg whites–you don’t want the basil to brown.) Add the basil-lemon sugar to the egg white bowl, and beat on medium speed, another 2-3 minutes. The egg whites should be tinted lightly green, flecked with basil, and stiff enough to form peaks.

5. Move the meringue into a piping bag–I simply used a large, zip lock bag with a hole snipped into one corner. (You could also just use a spoon to scoop little clouds, if you’re going for a more rustic look.) Pipe the meringue onto a parchment paper-lined baking sheet; my batch yielded 16 meringues, but you choose how large or small to make them.

6. Move the baking sheet to the oven for 1 hour, and then turn off the heat. Without opening the oven door, let the meringues rest for at least 1 hour, but up to overnight.

Gin and Rhubarb Quick Jam:

Makes 1 heaping cup of jam 

If you have extra jam, or if you simply want to make a batch on it’s own, this quick, refrigerator jam is delicious on toast or English muffins at the breakfast table, or stirred into plain yogurt. You can also use it as a filler, along with frosting or cream, on cake.

Gin and Rhubarb Quick Jam Ingredients:

• 3 stalks of rhubarb
• the juice of 1/2 a small lemon (1 tablespoon)
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 2 tablespoons gin
• a pinch of kosher salt

Gin and Rhubarb Quick Jam Procedure: 

1. Cut the ends off the rhubarb stalks, and also cut away any bruised bits. Now slice the rhubarb into pieces, about 1/2-inch long.

2. Move the rhubarb to a medium saucepan, along with the lemon juice, the sugar, the gin, the pinch of salt, and 1/4 cup of water. Turn the heat to high, until the liquid starts to bubble, and then lower the heat to medium low. Stir occasionally. Cook the rhubarb for about 20 minutes, or until the rhubarb is jammy, but retains its shape a bit. Let the jam cool; it should fall apart a bit when you stir it.

Prepare the Strawberries:

Slice the tops off of 1 punnet full of strawberries (about 2 cups), and then slice the strawberries into halves or quarters, depending on the size of the strawberries, and your personal preference. Move the strawberry pieces into a medium bowl, and stir in 2 tablespoons of light brown sugar, until the strawberries are evenly coated. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, and let it sit for at least 30 minutes, or until strawberry syrup collects at the bottom of the bowl.

Prepare the cream:

Whip 1 cup of heavy cream. I like to keep the cream on the runny side, the consistency of stirred yogurt, but it’s up to you. The cream should be cold when you whip it. Move it to the fridge for a little while after you whip it, so that it’s also cold when you serve it.

Put Everything Together: 

There are really no rules for how, or in what order, you put together the meringue, the jam, the strawberries and the cream. You can crack the top of each meringue (for example, to fit them into a jar), or not. I recommend drizzling some of the strawberry syrup over the top of each, to finish.

I loved the narrow houses of Charleston, the skinny side porches, some adorned with hanging plants or wind chimes, some old and listing like a tipsy uncle. I loved the real gas lamps burning, picturesque but inexplicable, in the light and heat of a May day. I loved the properties overlaid with vines, such bombastic vegetation and the smell of honeysuckle everywhere.

I loved the drive to Sullivan’s Island, across the long, modern bridge; rising with airs over the flat brown water and the skeletons of industrial machinery. I loved the walk across the packed, wavy, clay sand, to the receding line of the water where we found razor clam shells as long as a witch’s fingernail.

I loved the heat, thick enough to jar and only May, and the soundtrack of bug callings, and the line of oaks as old as this county: Imagine! they will outlive us all. I loved the weeping tree by the lagoon, the branches so thick and so low they meant to scoop us up and carry us off to who knows where. And then the lick of poppies, in front of the old house and beside the pecan tree, so loud and red and unembarrassed.

It should go without saying that I also loved the food. (To read a full account of where and what we ate, scroll near the bottom of this page.) One sandwich in particular, from a lunch shop called Butcher & Bee, caught my fancy for recreation. The description was “Korean Short Rib Sandwich with Fried Egg, Spicy Slaw, and Soy Drizzle”. I asked (and was told) the ingredients for the soy drizzle, and from there, I got to experimenting.

A note on the (missing) gochujang: Gochujang is a Korean hot bean paste. According to Soon Young Chung’s book, Korean Cooking Made Easy, it is a “thick, red paste made from rice powder, fermented soybeans, red chili powder and salt, with small amounts of sugar or sometimes honey added.” Apparently, there isn’t really a substitue for this ingredient, but since I couldn’t find any in my (fairly well stocked) grocery store, and I was too lazy to find a Korean grocery store, I followed Ms. Chung’s advice and used a combination of red chili powder, sugar, and Japanese miso paste, to approximate the flavor. If you do happen to have gochujang, use 1.5 tablespoons in the marinade, instead of 1 teaspoon chili powder + 1/2 teaspoon brown sugar + 1 tablespoons miso paste.

A note about time: In the quickest scenario, you would marinate the short ribs for 4 hours, braise them, and then immediately shred them for sandwiches. However, the more patient you are, the more flavor you can develop. If patience in the kitchen is not usually your thing, try this: make a big batch (quadruple this recipe, for example). You can wrap the finished short ribs in individual portions, freeze them, and then defrost for easy future dinners: tacos, soups and stews, with eggs, etc. You can also make and freeze batches of the marinade alone, which I bet would be tasty on chicken or pork, too.

A note about making ahead: The short ribs and the sauce can (and should) be made ahead of time. The cabbage can be shredded 1 day in advance, and kept in the fridge in a sealed container. The slaw sauce can be made 1-2 days ahead, and also kept, sealed, in the fridge–just give it a quick stir if it starts to separate. The only thing that needs to be prepared à la minute is the egg frying and the actual sandwich assembly, making this sandwich fairly guest friendly/stress free.

Makes 4 sandwiches

Marinade + Braising Ingredients: 

• 1 nub of ginger
• 1 medium white onion
• 1 Asian pear
• 2 cloves of garlic
• 1.5 tablespoons sesame seeds
• 1 teaspoon red chili powder
• 1/2 teaspoon light brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon miso paste
• 1/4 cup soy sauce
• 2 tablespoons mirin
• 2 tablespoons sesame oil
• 3 scallions
• 2 pounds bone-in beef short ribs
• 1/2 cup beef stock

Make the Marinade:

1. Peel the ginger. Remove the skin from the onion, and cut it into quarters. Peel and core the Asian pear, and cut that into quarters, too. Peel the skins from the garlic. Move the ginger, the onion, the pear, the garlic, and the sesame seeds into the bowl of a food processor, and blend until you achieve a smooth-ish paste–you don’t need to puree, but you don’t want whole pieces of any one ingredient either.

2. In the base of a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the chili powder, the brown sugar, and the miso paste, until it forms a paste. Add the soy sauce, the mirin, and the sesame oil; whisk. Slice up the scallions, and add them to the bowl too. Finally, add the contents of the food processor. Fold everything together.

3. Move the short ribs into a large bowl. Massage the marinade into the meat. Move the meat, and any extra marinade, to a large and sealable plastic bag, and then into the fridge. Marinate the meat for at least 4 hours, or overnight.

Braising the Short Ribs:

1. Heat the oven to 250F.

2. Move the meat and the marinade to a Dutch oven, or another heavy pot with a lid. (If your pot isn’t large enough, you can cut the short ribs into pieces with kitchen shears; just feel around the bones. I cut mine into thirds.) Add the beef stock, and stir around the meat, so that the stock incorporates into the marinade. Turn the range to medium-high, and let the stock and marinade come to a simmer. After that, turn off the range, put the lid onto the pot, and move it into the oven. Braise the meat for 2-3 hours, or until the meat is falling off the bone. Check every hour or so. You always want the meat to be half-submerged in liquid during cooking.

3. When the meat has finished cooking, move the Dutch oven into the fridge, and let it chill for 4 hours, or overnight.

Short Rib Sauce Ingredients: 

• 1 shallot
• 1 tablespoon light brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon grated ginger
• 1.5 teaspoons sesame seeds
• 2 teaspoons sriracha
• 1/2 cup soy sauce
• 1/2 cup red wine vinegar
• 2 tablespoons canola oil
• 3 scallions

Making the Short Rib Sauce:

1. Mince the shallot. Move it to a small saucepan, along with the brown sugar, the grated ginger (I use a microplane grater; it helps catch the fibers), the sesame seeds, the sriracha, the soy sauce, and the red wine vinegar. Whisk to blend. Turn the heat to medium high, and let the liquid come to a gentle bubble. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the sauce is reduced by 1/3, about 10 minutes. Let the sauce cool.

2. Whisk in the scallions, sliced, as well as the canola oil. Refrigerate until needed.

Finishing the Short Ribs: 

1. When the short ribs have been properly chilled, skim away any solidified fat. Shred the meat from the bones using your fingers; discarding any fat, bone, or gristle.

2. Empty the short rib sauce into the pot with the shredded short ribs. Heat gently, until the meat is warm and quite moist from soaking up the sauce. Keep the short ribs warm, over very low heat, until you are ready to build the sandwiches.

Slaw and Dressing Ingredients: 

• 1 small head white cabbage
• 2 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice
• a pinch of white sugar
• 1/2 tablespoon Dijon mustard
• 1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 2 tablespoons sesame oil

Make the Slaw and Dressing:

1. Shred the cabbage. Move it to a mixing bowl, and set it aside.

2. In a small bowl, whisk together the apple cider vinegar, the lemon juice, the white sugar, the mustard, the cayenne, and the sesame oil, until emulsified.

3. Toss the cabbage with the dressing, until evenly coated. Set the bowl aside.

Ingredients to Finish Each Sandwich:

• 4 brioche buns
• 2 tablespoons canola oil
• 4 eggs

Building the Sandwiches: 

1. When you are ready to serve, cut open each brioche bun. (You can toast them if you like.) Fry the eggs in the canola oil, just until the whites are set and starting to frizzle, but the yolk is still runny. Spoon the warm short rib onto the base of each sandwich, then add a freshly fried egg. Finish with a generous scoop of the slaw.

This is a messy sandwich; embrace it! Slice each sandwich in half, so that the egg runs into the meat and the slaw. Serve immediately. 

In other, salad-unrelated news, the Frenchman and I are off to Charleston for the weekend. We have never been, and I’m quite looking forward to sampling the local cuisine. As is my custom, I’ve planned the weekend largely around market visits, and late-but-I-don’t-care dinner reservations. (Frenchman, if you are reading this, don’t worry: we’re spending a whole half day at the beach!) I hope to return with wondrous photographs, and a whole slew of new recipe ideas.

A note about making ahead: You can make all elements of this salad ahead of time. I like the mushrooms and ramps and egg yolks to be a bit warm (balance!), but it’s not necessary, and nothing a little reheating can’t solve.

A note on the olive bread: I like the flavor olive bread croutons lend, but if you can’t find olive bread, it’s no big deal. You can make croutons with whatever bread you have around (wheat might also be nice). Of course you can use store-bought croutons if you like, but watch out: they tend to be super salty. I like the homemade variety for their soft crunch, and because you can really taste whatever olive oil you used to make them. Plus, they are impossibly easy, and you can always make a big batch, throw them in a plastic baggie, and repurpose them all week.

A note on the ramps: If ramps don’t grow where you live, you can sub 1 clove of garlic + 1 small white onion. You can also use any spring onion, including scallions.

A note on the pesto: I used a spinach-arugula pesto I happened to have in the fridge, but store-bought basil pesto saves time here.

Makes 4, entrée-sized salads

Ingredients:

• 1 small boule olive bread
• 1/4 cup + 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• kosher salt, black pepper
• 1 punnet (or 2 cups) button or crimini mushrooms
• 1 bunch ramps
• 4 eggs
• 1/4 cup pesto
• 1/4 cup lemon juice
• 4 cups arugula
• 4 heads Belgian endive
• 2 heads radicchio
• 8 ounces fresh mozzarella

Make the croutons: 

1. Heat the oven to 375F.

2. Cut the boule into 1-inch thick slices, and then cut each slice into 1×1-inch cubes. Toss the cubes with 1/4 cup of the olive oil, as well as a liberal sprinkling of salt and pepper. Move the bread to a foil-lined baking sheet, and the baking sheet into the oven. Toast for 10 minutes, and then toss the cubes with tongs. Bake for another 5-7 minutes, or until the croutons are golden brown. Set aside to cool.

Prepare the mushrooms and ramps:

1. Wash any dirt off of the mushrooms, and then dry them well. Wash the ramps, too, making sure the whites are free of dirt. Snip off any whiskery bits. Thinly slice both the mushrooms and the ramps.

2. Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a wide pan over medium heat. Saute the mushrooms, making sure not to crowd them. Don’t stir them too often either, as this will prevent them from browning. When the mushrooms are well-browned and smell lovely (5-7 minutes), remove them from the pan and set them aside. Add the sliced ramps to the pan, and cook for 1-2 minutes, just until they’re wilty. Remove them to a separate bowl.

Hard boil the eggs: 

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil, and then lower the heat until the water is just simmering. Add the eggs, and cook for 9-10 minutes. Immediately after cooking, move the eggs to an ice bath, to arrest cooking. When the eggs are cool enough to handle, peel them.

Make the dressing:

1. Whisk together the pesto with the lemon juice. Done-zo!

Mozzarella and Lettuces:

1. Dice the mozzarella into small cubes, and move to a small bowl (or, just to the side of the cutting board. No judgement here).

2. Move the arugula to a large mixing bowl. Slice the endive, crosswise, and add that, too. Shred the radicchio, and use your hands to incorporate all three lettuces.

Putting everything together: 

Gently coat the lettuces in the presto dressing–it’s really best to use your hands for this. Add the mozzarella, the croutons, the mushrooms and the ramps. Distribute the salad between four plates. Slice up the eggs, and artfully arrange 1 over each salad. Voila!

But here we are! With a tart! It’s mighty tasty. It makes great brunch, lunch, or dinner. (Add a salad, and perhaps some roasted taters, and you’re in business.) It works for right now, with whatever vegetation you can scrounge at the market, but it will also work later, when peas and asparagus finally do make an appearance. It will continue to work once summer produce–tomatoes!–arrive.

This tart is like a quiche, but with half the guilt, half the commitment: it’s fairy thin, so you won’t feel heavy or fatigued after enjoying it. You are very welcome to take the tart base, and the dairy, and then invent your own tart from there. Vegetables, herbs, and cheese: go crazy! Get inventing.

A note on inspiration: The base of this recipe comes from Bon Appetit. I too would like to make the recipe as originally written, with skinny-tender stalks of asparagus, but the farmers market is still all parsnips and turnips. The hot new item last week was a slender bundle of peach blossoms. I was so excited until I went to pay: $8 a piece!

A note on the crust: You want to keep the dough (and all the ingredients that go into the dough) as cold as possible, for as long as possible. The freezer is your friend. This coldness will give you a lovely, flakey crust.

A note on the inconsistent picture style: I just got new photo editing software, and I am still playing around with it, hence the stylistic difference between the process shots and the final shots. If you noticed no difference between the two, let’s just pretend I didn’t even write this disclaimer..

Makes 1, 13-inch tart, or 6-8 individual ones

Ingredients:

• 1.5 cups flour, plus extra for dusting
• 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, divided
• 1.5 sticks (170 grams), plus 1 tablespoon, chilled unsalted butter
• 1/4 cup ice water
• 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (optional)
• 3 leeks
• 9 spring onions or scallions
• 2/3 cup minced chives
• 6 ounces soft goat cheese
• 1 teaspoon lemon zest
• 1/4 cup crème fraîche
• 1/4 cup heavy cream
• 2 teaspoons minced fresh tarragon
• 3 eggs
• 1 cup finely grated aged gruyère
• freshly ground black pepper

Make the Dough 

1. Add the flour and the salt to the bowl of a food processor. (The thyme too, if you’re using it.) Cut 1.5 sticks of the butter into slices, and add that too–the butter should be cold, frozen even–keeping everything as cold as possible will yield a flaky crust. Turn the machine on low, and slowly add the ice water, just until the dough comes together.

2. Form the dough into a disk. Scatter a fine dusting of flour onto some plastic wrap, and wrap up the dough. Move it to the coldest part of the fridge for at least 30 minutes. (You can also do this the night before.)

3. Roll out the dough; you want it about 1/4-inch thick. I like to roll my dough between two, floured sheets of plastic wrap; I find it’s easy, and it minimizes mess. Now ease the dough into a 13-inch tart pan. Move the pan to the freezer for about 20 minutes.

4. Heat oven to 375F. Blind bake the tart for 20 minutes (I use dried beans). With a fork, poke holes into the base of the tart (this will help prevent bubbles in the dough), and move the tart back into the oven for another 15 minutes, or until the edges are golden.

Make the Filling:

1. Quarter the leeks, slice up the white and light green bits, and wash well. Warm the remaining 1 tablespoon of butter in a pan over medium heat, until it is bubbling gently. Add the sliced leeks, and saute until they are wilty, about 7 minutes. Set the leeks aside.

2. Prep the spring onions: cut away and discard the whiskery bottoms. Wash the stalks well, and then slice.

3. Wash your chives. I use kitchen shears to mince them. Don’t worry about making them perfectly uniform.

4. Add the: goat cheese, lemon zest, crème fraîche, heavy cream, and tarragon to a large mixing bowl. Use a whisk to blend everything together. Add the eggs, and the remaining 1/2 teaspoon of salt, and mix to incorporate. Lastly, whisk in the minced chives.

5. Now put the tart together: scatter the leeks, the spring onions, and the aged gruyère across the bottom of the tart. Pour in the cream mixture. Grate some black pepper across the top. Move the tart to the oven, and cook for 22 more minutes, until the cream mixture is just set. Let the tart cool slightly. Serve warm or at room temperature.

But do you know what I found at the farmers market yesterday? Root vegetables. Oh, root vegetables: it’s nothing personal, but you’re starting to depress me. Beets, carrots, and sweet potatoes. Turnips, and not the sweet baby spring ones (that should be roasted and eaten at room temperature, dribbled in spring-garlicky aioli), but turnips the size of softballs. There was not a single stalk of rhubarb hidden behind the parsnips.

I did find kale and brussels sprouts in abundance, though, and while I’m not a huge fan of either–the kale (in everything) and brussels sprouts (with bacon) craze is largely lost on me–I jumped at their mere greenness. It’s almost a spring salad, right? Right?

I’ve spotted versions of this salad on several restaurant menus, and thought I would give it a go at home. It’s pretty simple to toss together, and the sturdy greens hold up to dressing, so you can make it a few hours in advance if you want. Plus, once those spring greens actually do come through, I can use this salad as a starting point for a spring explosion..er..panzanella. Here’s hoping that day will come sooner rather than later.

A note about the roasted garlic: This is optional, because I understand it’s sort of a pain in the bum to roast, you know, one clove of garlic, especially when the rest of the salad comes together so quickly and easily. Roasted garlic adds depth of flavor, though, so if you do decide to roast, you might as well do a whole head of garlic, and use the rest for dinner’s main course. I rub garlic with olive oil, wrap it in a foil ball, and toss it into a 350F oven for about 30 minutes.

A note about additions: This salad would not suffer from the addition of some crisp bacon, or maybe a runny-yolked egg.

A note about exciting news: Vote for me! Saveur has named me one of their six Best New Blogs!

Makes 4 starter portions

Ingredients: 

• 1 bunch dinosaur kale
• 1/2 pound (or 2 cups) brussels spouts
• 1-2 cloves of garlic (optional)
• 1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard
• kosher salt, black pepper
• 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
• 1 tablespoon lemon juice
• 1 tablespoon aged balsamic vinegar
• 1 tablespoon hazelnut oil
• 2 tablespoons good olive oil
• 1 teaspoon lemon zest
• 1/4 cup plain breadcrumbs
• 1/4 cup hazelnuts
• 1/3 cup finely grated pecorino

Get the oven out of the way:

Heat the oven to 350F. If you are roasting the garlic, rub it with olive oil, and wrap it in aluminum foil. Toss it into the oven for 30 minutes, or until the cloves are browned and super soft.

The hazelnuts should also be toasted at 350F, so do this simultaneously. Move them to a baking sheet, and bake for 10-12 minutes, or until they turn golden in spots. Remove the hazelnuts from the oven, let them cool, and then crush them into a crumbly dust. (This can be done in a mortar and pestle, or using the bottom of a coffee mug.)

While you are busy applying heat to things, you’ll probably want to toast the breadcrumbs. Why not? 2-3 minutes in a non-stick pan over medium heat should do it.

Prepare the veg:

Thoroughly wash and dry the kale. Remove the outer leaves of each brussels sprout, and then give each a rinse. Basically, make sure each vegetable is clean and dry.

Now you want to shred both. For the kale, remove the rib in the center of each leaf with a knife. Then stack the leaves on top of one another, and roll tightly; slice crosswise, reducing the kale into thin ribbons. (This is called “chiffonade”.) For the brussels spouts, I used a mandoline to shred them thinly and evenly.

Move the shredded kale and brussels spouts to a large mixing or salad bowl.

Make the Dressing:

If you roasted the garlic, move the 1-2 cloves (skins removed) to a small bowl. Add the Dijon, a pinch of salt and pepper, and then smoosh everything together with the back of a spoon.

Then add the white wine vinegar, the lemon juice, and the balsamic, and stir to combine. Add the hazelnut oil and the olive oil; whisk to emulsify.

Put the salad together: 

To the large/salad bowl, add the lemon zest, the (toasted) breadcrumbs, the crushed hazelnuts, and the grated pecorino. Drizzle the dressing on top, and toss gently to coat. Portion the salad onto individual plates, and serve.

Add an extra flurry of cheese or black pepper, or a ribbon of aged balsamic, as garnish.

This pasta works well for the weather, too: the sweet-anise notes of fennel suggest spring, while the presence of pecorino and veal sausage remind me that it’s still gray and chilly outside. (Hopefully not interminably, although it’s starting to feel that way.)

Plus, it’s adaptable: the flavors are sophisticated enough to serve as the first course of a spring dinner party (serves 6-8). But it’s also a crowd-pleaser–spoon some right out of the pot for a family-style meal (serves 4).

A note about cooking with sausage: I love cooking with sausage, because it’s already seasoned, and well. I often buy sausages, cut open the casing, and use them for tacos, roll them into meatballs, add them to pasta sauce–the list goes on and on.

A note about the pasta cooking water + butter: Ever wonder why restaurant pasta tastes so much more luscious than the pasta you make at home? Butter, my friends, butter. Restaurant cooks finish pasta dishes in a pan with butter and sauce, and then some of the pasta cooking water–the starch helps to bind the pasta sauce, and the salt helps to season. A little good butter goes a long way!

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 fennel bulb (with fronds)
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 3 tablespoons white wine
• 2 veal sausages
• kosher salt
• 1 pound rigatoni
• kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon fennel seeds
• 3 tablespoons plain breadcrumbs
• 1 tablespoon unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup finely grated pecorino
• 1/8-1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes, depending on your spicy-preference
• 1 teaspoon lemon zest
• freshly grated black pepper

Procedure:

1. Cut the fennel into three parts: the bulb, the stalks, and the fronds. (It’s easiest to separate the fronds using scissors.) Wash the fronds and the stalks in cool water, and then pat dry. For the bulb, use a vegetable peeler to peel away the (dirty) outer layer. Now cut the bulb in half, lengthwise, and then slice both halves as thinly as possible. Similarly slice the stalks. You will be sautéing the sliced bulb and stalks; reserve the fronds and set them aside.

2. In a large pan, warm the olive oil over medium heat. Add the sliced fennel, and saute until wilty and transparent, about 5-7 minutes. Add the white wine, and continue cooking just long enough for the wine to dissolve. Season with a touch of salt, and remove the fennel to a medium-sized bowl.

3. Remove the sausages from their casings. Add the sausage to the same pan you used to saute the fennel, and cook until the sausage is no longer pink, another 5 minutes or so. Remove the sausage to the fennel bowl. (You can turn off the fire at this point, but don’t bother washing the pan just yet–you’ll use it again in step 6.)

4. Meanwhile, set a pot of generously salted water on the range, over high heat. When it starts to boil, add the rigatoni. Cook just until al dente, and then drain the pasta. (But save about 1/4 cups of pasta cooking water!)

5. In a mortar and pestle, crush up the fennel seeds, and then mix with the breadcrumbs. (If you don’t have a morar and pestle, you can–carefully–use a knife to chop up the fennel seeds instead.) (If you’d like to amp up the flavor of the crumbs and seeds, toast them together in a pan over medium heat for about 1 minute.)

6. Melt the butter in the fennel/sausage pan over low heat. Add the drained pasta to the pan, along with the reserved pasta water; stir to coat the pasta in butter-water. Now chop up the reserved fennel fronds and add that to the pan, along with the sautéed fennel, the sausage, the breadcrumbs, the pecorino, the red pepper flakes, and the lemon zest. Stir to bring everything together. Taste, and adjust the seasoning as you see fit.

7. Spoon the pasta into bowls. Finish with a crack of freshly grated black pepper.

Clearly, my fantasies of delicate pea tendrils and narrow stalks of asparagus aren’t coming to fruition as quickly as I’d like. The farmers market looks much the same now as it has all winter. Still, there are small signs of change: multi-colored carrots, new potatoes, and a small collection of scallions. This recipe utilizes two of the three.

And chives, and tender ground lamb! Two more ingredients that promise spring. My goal for this dish was to create something earthy and balanced; flavorful, but not at all winter weary. I think I’ve succeeded.

This recipe is packed with (brown) sugar, spice, and everything nice (namely, jalapeño slices, creamy dressing, and crunchy peanuts). The combination is fairly delicious, if I do say so myself.

A note for vegetarians: Skip the lamb. To compensate the flavor and protein loss: toast the peanuts with lime juice and cayenne; stir cumin and paprika into lentils.

A note for vegans: See above. Also, make the dressing, but skip the sour cream. To give the dressing a little body, emulsify with tahini or Dijon mustard instead.

A note about the wheatberries: I like wheatberries for their nutty chew, but you can substitute quinoa or couscous, if that’s what you have.

A note about sandwiches: Who doesn’t love a sandwich? You can put the contents of this recipe (or any leftovers) inside a hot dog bun and be well on your way to dinner.

A note about shameless self promotion: I really hate to ask, but–if you enjoy my blog and have three extra minutes, it would be so lovely if you would do me a solid: The Saveur 2013 Food Blog Awards.

Makes 2 starter portions, or 1 filling lunch plate

Ingredients:

• 1 bunch of carrots
• a heaping 1/4 cup olive oil, divided
• 1 tablespoon light brown sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon chili powder
• kosher salt
• 1/2 cup wheatberries
• 1 jalapeño pepper
• 1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar
• the juice of 1 lime, divided
• 2 garlic cloves
• 1/4 pound ground lamb
• 1/4 teaspoon cumin
• 1/4 teaspoon paprika
• 2 tablespoons minced scallions
• 1 tablespoon minced chives
• 1/4 cup sour cream
• 2 tablespoons chopped peanuts

Prep the carrots: 

Heat the oven to 325F. Peel the carrots, snip the stems, and then toss them with 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, the brown sugar, the chili powder, and a generous sprinkle of salt. Move the carrots to a parchment-lined baking sheet (for easy clean up), and then into the oven.

I cooked my carrots for 1 hour, flipping them once at the 30 minute mark. You are looking for carrots that are soft on the inside, but wrinkled and wilty on the outside.

Prep the wheatberries:

Spoon the wheatberries into a small pot, and add 2 cups of water. Turn the heat to medium high, and bring the water to a boil. When the water starts to bubble, lower the heat to a simmer. I cooked my wheatberries for about 50 minutes, until most of the water was dissolved, and the wheatberries were softened, but still retained a chewy bite. Drain the wheatberries.

1/2 cup will yield more wheatberries than you probably need for this recipe, so use any extra on: salads, in soup, for breakfast with fruit and yogurt, etc. They are quite healthy.

Prep the jalapeño: 

Wash and slice the jalapeño as thinly as possible, crosswise. Move the jalapeño slivers to a bowl, along with the rice wine vinegar and 1-2 tablespoons of the lime juice. Fill the rest of the bowl with cool water, enough to cover the jalapeño slices completely. Let them rest this way for at least 20 minutes, to soften the harshness of the spice.

Prep the lamb:

Heat 1/2 tablespoon of the olive oil in a pan over medium heat. While it’s warming, mince the garlic, and then add it to the pan. After 30 seconds, add the cumin and the paprika, to toast. Let all the spices warm in the oil for 1-2 minutes. Then add the lamb, and cook until it’s no longer pink. Stir intermittently as you go.

Make the dressing/prep the peanuts:

Add the minced scallions and minced chives to a small bowl. (I used scissors, and snipped directly into the bowl.) Add the sour cream, 2 tablespoons of the olive oil, and 3 tablespoons of the lime juice; whisk with a fork to emulsify.

Chop the peanuts.

Build the dish:

Lay the carrots on a plate; you can serve them hot, or at room temperature. Scatter on the lamb (I think this is best served warm) and the wheatberries (warm or at room temperature). Decorate with the jalapeño slivers and chopped peanuts. Finish the plate by drizzling on the dressing.

Wait, what? Before meeting him, I never considered hunger as the reason to eat dessert.

My incomprehension at Monsieur French Toast’s anti-dessert tendencies aside, most of the time I wish I could magically adopt this part of his personality. Wouldn’t it be lovely to wake up one morning and not care one iota for the perfect chocolate chip cookie: edges caramelized, chewy, insides pillowy and heady with brown butter; a constellation of fleur de sel across the top?

Sadly, this is not the case. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as if I’m mainlining caramels, but still: after four plus years together, he has yet to convince me that eating an apple is just as pleasurable as a shortbread cookie.

My dessert of choice, if you must know, is anything creamy. Custard, panna cotta, butter frostings–all with equal reverence. However, I’ve never thought to make these desserts at home. I think I was intimidated by the need for gelatin leaves and scalding water bathes. Silly as it may sound, I though these desserts would prove too pesky and onerous to make myself.

But then I read a recipe for Vanilla-Rum Custard from Saveur, and it was dead simple! Like, mix-all-the-ingredients-in-one-bowl simple. Yes, it required a water bath, but that transpired to be as easy as pouring water in a pan.

The best part was being given a base with which to play. I tossed the vanilla and the rum out the window, and got to work messing around with flavors I had around the house.

So follow one of my ideas, or invent your own! Stir in booze, jam, extracts, spices, citrus, coffee; top with nuts, chocolate chips, or fruit. If you have a torch, scatter sugar across the top, and turn it into crème brûlée.

This custard is luxurious and rich, and I promise it will make you look like a skilled pastry chef, even though the dessert requires very little work on your part. Serve it in a large dish for a family style meal, or in individual cups, if you’re throwing a fancy party. You should make it ahead, and pull it out of the fridge just before serving.

A note about the dishes: I am claiming a yield of 12, 2-inch ceramic cups, although I only made 11. The casserole dish I used for the water bath only fit 11 cups, although the custard would have happily filled 12.

A note about the categorization: I know these custards aren’t Pies/Tarts, but I thought it was better than sticking them in the Miscellaneous category. Perhaps I need to revisit my recipe organization.

A note about quantity: Saveur doubles the ingredient quantity I list, and notes a serving size of 8-10 portions. Personally, I think a little custard goes a long way. I think one, individual cup is appropriate per person, but you can make up your own mind!

Makes 12, 2-inch ceramic cups or 1, 1.5-quart baking dish 

Ingredients: 

• 6 tablespoons sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 2 cups heavy cream

Procedure:

1. Heat the oven to 300F.

2. Move all the ingredients into a big bowl, and whisk until combined. (Saveur suggests beating the eggs before adding them, but I didn’t feel like washing an extra bowl, so I simply cracked the eggs directly into the cream and then whisked. No one died.)

3. And then….I washed an extra bowl anyway: run the custard through a sieve. (This direction isn’t included in the original recipe, but I think it’s a good idea. It removes any stringy bits from the egg, and will give you a smoother custard.)

4. Move a pot of water onto the range, and bring it to a boil.

5. Pour the custard into one large dish or into individual cups, and then move it/them to a larger roasting pan or casserole dish. (Saveur suggests placing the roasting pan in the oven, and then pouring in the hot water, but I found it easier to add the water to the pan first, and then carefully move it to the oven.) Either way, you want hot water to come halfway up the side(s) of the custard dish/cups.

6. I baked my 11 cups for 40 minutes, although 35-50 minutes is an acceptable range. You want to cook the custard just long enough so that it’s still a bit wobbly in the center, but well on it’s way to solidified.

7. After taking the custard out of the oven, remove the dish/cups from the water bath. Transfer it/them to the fridge to set and chill, about 1-2 hours. Take the custard out of the fridge about 10 minutes before serving.

Flavoring the Custard: I individualized each cup with the following flavor combinations. Just keep in mind that you don’t want to add too much extra liquid, or the custard won’t set properly. Brûlée Blood Orange, Meyer Lemon, Vanilla Bourbon, and Peanut Butter were my favorites.

Blood Orange Juice, Blood Orange Slivers, Brûlée Top

Blood Orange Juice , Blood Orange zest, Grapefruit Liquor

Vanilla Bean and Bourbon

Vanilla Bean with Strawberry Jam on Top

Meyer Lemon Juice and Zest

Earl Grey Tea with Crushed Pistachios

Early Grey Tea with Meyer Lemon

Almond Extract and Raspberry Jam

Peanut Butter with Chocolate Chips

Forest Fruit Jam with Vanilla Bean

Plum Jam, Vanilla Bean, and Bourbon

The Frenchman and I are staying at a hotel, but a friend of ours recently moved to Buenos Aires for work, and so there was a kitchen available. (And by “available” what I mean is that I basically invited myself over, and then invited him to invite his coworkers over too. Charming, I know.)

And so I spent the better part of one day shopping, criss-crossing the city based on internet suggestions for where I might find a decent farmers market, or a great loaf of bread. (I found the farmers market, but alas, I have yet to try tasty bread in Buenos Aires.) Some might consider this a ridiculous way to pass a day in a foreign city, when there are art museums to be seen, and Casas Rosas to be marveled at. But food–tasting it, rooting it out, chatting with people over it–is my preferred method of tourism.

I had no menu at the start of my shopping day, but decided to let the dinner menu form itself a little bit at a time: figs, plump and jammy, were the first thing to fall into my basket. Yellow plums followed, and then chives, mascarpone, fresh eggs. I had to keep in mind that I had none of my fancy tools to rely on; I needed to accomplish every task with little more than a knife, a pan, and a cutting board. (I had to buy the cutting board.)

Isn’t this the most fun way to cook: basically; choosing ingredients that stand up on their own, and then figuring out what to do with them once you get home? Throughout the day, I scribbled notes, added ingredients, mulled cooking methods. By the end of the day, I knew-ish what I wanted to make.

The next afternoon, I made my way to my friend’s apartment in the afternoon. I took off my shoes and started some music. I completed all my prep work at a languid pace. Since his range and oven required turning a massive gas lever and manually lighting each part–if you think the oven had a temperature gage, you’re joking–I waited for him to come home before I actually applied heat to my ingredients.

I finished more or less on time, with a drink in my hand. The food I put forth was uncomplicated, but well-seasoned and tasty. Everyone–an array of nationalities–chatted in some amalgamation of English and Spanish, and we drank wine, and then fernet. The evening disolved, sleepily, happily, sometime around 2am.

A Pair of Tartines to Start:

1. Leek, Mushrooms, and Scrambled Eggs on Toast: First I sauteed chopped leeks in butter, adding salt, pepper, lemon juice, and lemon zest toward the end. I treated sliced mushrooms the same way, making sure not to crowd them, so that they would brown instead of steam. Eggs went into the pan last, with yet more butter, salt, and pepper, scrambled at a glacial pace to keep them silky and soft and not at all rubbery. Just before the eggs finished cooking, I took the pan off the heat and showered them liberally with minced chives. Onto toasted slices of country bread everything went, along with shards of aged cheddar, or rather, some Argentine cheese that tasted similar.

2. Cherry Tomato, Burrata, and Basil Oil Toast: Into the temperature-less oven went a tray of halved cherry tomatoes, drizzled with olive oil and a touch of honey, scattered with salt and pepper, until they were wilty, but not dry. I chopped a bunch of basil into ribbons, and then muddled the basil into more olive oil. In the end, each toast was a mess of warm tomatoes, runny burrata, and basil oil.

Main Courses to Accommodate Meat-Eaters and Vegetarians Alike:

1. Chorizo Braise: I lined the bottom of a casserole/pyrex with chopped: carrot, shallots, onions, and whole garlic cloves. Next, fresh thyme sprigs were added, along with paprika. I added the chorizo next, fat fresh sausages I found at the butcher. I filled the dish with water until the chorizo was halfway submerged, and then added a generous splash of red wine, for good measure. It all went into the oven for about an hour at an unknown temperature. It the end, the sausages were cooked through and glistening, and the vegetables just starting to caramelize. I corrected the sauce with salt and pepper.

2. Ratatouille with Olive Oil-Fried Eggs: I sauteed onion, garlic, red bell pepper, zucchini, eggplant, and tomatoes in olive oil. Salt and pepper were added as I went, along with fresh thyme and whole basil leaves. To finish, I fried up eggs in olive oil: the runny yolks made a winning sauce to tie the whole dish together.

Sides: 

1. New potatoes, boiled in salty water until yielding. I roughed them up in the pan, and stirred in some butter, chives, and sour cream.

2. A salad of butter lettuces, radicchio, and spring onions was dressed with mustard vinaigrette. 

Dessert of Fruit and Cream:

I quartered figs and yellow plums, and brushed them with runny peach jam. The fruit went into a low-ish oven, until they were just starting to fall apart. I built each dessert plate thusly: a disarray of fruit topped with mascarpone and thickened cream, scattered with crushed pistachios. (Feel free to sub the fruit and nuts I used for the fruit and nuts you have on hand, and like.)

My other exciting semi-announcement is that I’m working toward making Spring Lake Creamery a real live business. I attended a fair this past weekend, and while it was ten degrees below zero thanks to a defunct radiator, the handful of eskimos willing to eat frozen dessert while also frozen themselves seemed to enjoy what they tried. I am continually adding to my list of Winter 2013 flavors. Slowly, I’m working toward making this ambition a reality.

This recipe is a nod to both my upcoming trip, and to my potential ice cream future.

I have a recipe waiting in the wings for next week, when I’ll be far, far away, but I think I’ll let my camera and my mood ultimately decide what you see here next Thursday. Tune in for what strikes my fancy!

a note on the sugar: Dulce de leche is sweet already. Adding the additional 1/2 cup of sugar this recipe calls for pushes this ice cream into “quite sweet” territory. If you don’t have much of a sweet tooth, feel free to lessen the sugar to 1/3 cup.

a note on the jam: Originally, I wanted to make my own jam from kumquats: I thought they would provide an acidic, sweet-sour foil to dulce de leche’s velvety sweetness. But I couldn’t find kumquats. So I turned next to blood orange marmelade. The addition was tasty, but not perfect: while it lent bitterness, it was missing a certain tartness. I was happier after adding raspberry jam to the mix.

You are welcome to experiment with the jams and marmelades you have in the cupboard. You’ll want a bit of acidity, a bit of tang, to counterbalance the dulce de leche.

Ingredients: 

• 2 cups whole milk
• 1 cup cream
• 1/2 cup sugar, divided
• 1 pinch salt
• 4 egg yolks
• 1/3 cup + 1 tablespoon dulce de leche, separated
• 3 tablespoons blood orange marmelade
• 3 tablespoons raspberry jam

Procedure

1. In a medium pot, combine the milk, the cream, 1/4 cup of the sugar, and the salt. Whisk to dissolve the sugar and salt into the milk and cream, and then turn on the range. Warm the milk over medium heat, whisking occasionally, until the milk froths up in the pot, about 5 minutes. Turn off the heat.

2. Meanwhile, in a separate small bowl, collect the egg yolks. Add the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar, and give it a good whisk, until the yolks are a lighter shade of yellow.

3. Mix the milk with the yolks: I use a small cup to slowly add the milk into the yolks as I whisk. (It’s important to mix slowly, so that the egg doesn’t curdle.) Keep adding the milk, little by little, whisking as you go without pause. When the milk and yolks are fully incorporated, run the custard base through a sieve. Wash and dry the pot, and then pour the custard base back into it.

4. Again turn the heat to medium-low. Heat the custard base, stirring as you go, until it coats the back of your spoon or reads 165F on a thermometer. Fold in 1/3 cup of the dulce de leche, mixing until it’s fully incorporated into the custard.

5. If you’re short on time, move the custard to an ice bath. If you give it the occasional stir, it should be good and cold in about 45 minutes-1 hour. You could also chill the custard overnight in the fridge, which is ideal.

6. Pour the cold custard into an ice cream maker and mix based on the manufacturer’s instructions, until the ice cream reaches the consistency of soft-serve. In the last few minutes, add the remaining dulce de leche, the marmelade, and the jam.

7. Spoon the ice cream into a container. (Leave as little air between the ice cream and the lid as possible.) Move the container to the freezer, for at least 2-4 hours. If the ice cream becomes very frozen, take it out of the freezer 5-10 minutes before serving.