Nostrano is a particular Italian word. Very simply, it means "ours." Yet it implies much more: home, family, terrain, tradition. So sapori nostrani, in which the word is used in its plural form, would immediately suggest the comfort and intimacy derived from familiar flavors. I tasted this dish in Spilimbergo, one of Italy's foremost centers of the art of making mosaics. Many dishes there have that name even if they are more a combination of distinct ingredients that retain their characteristics rather than joining in a mosaic. This recipe uses most of the classic foods found in central Friuli.
In speaking of this most celebrated of Irish potato dishes, the musician Mick Bolger—whose Denver-based contemporary Celtic band is called Colcannon—notes that it has a "wonderful affinity" for corned beef and cabbage. And he confesses that he has also eaten it "with fillet mignon and port sauce; with rashers [bacon], tomatoes, and kidneys-in-their-jackets at 4 a.m.; and—God forgive me—wrapped in a tortilla, microwaved, and eaten, over the sink, with salsa." It is, in other words, a versatile creation. It is also one that exists in numerous variations, depending on the season, the region of the country, and of course personal taste. It is often made with just butter, milk, and kale, but the scholar P. W. Joyce defines "caulcannon" as "potatoes mashed with butter and milk, with chopped up cabbage and pot-herbs." Mary Ward, when she makes colcannon at her house in Nenagh, County Tipperary, starts with a trip to the kitchen garden, armed with a basket and a pair of shears. This is her recipe.
This is a wonderful rub for meats and fish. While I prefer it as a dry rub, you can add lemon juice or a neutral oil like grapeseed to make it wet if you like. Use the rub on your choice of meat, allow it to marinate for a few minutes, and then grill, roast, or sauté. As with any spice, if you are going to store this for a long time, please ensure it is still flavorful before using. Use your nose—if you can smell the spices, it is still good to go; if not, toss it and make a fresh batch. This rub lasts up to two months in a sealed container.
Zakuski is a spread of Russian appetizers, little dishes that, rather like Mediterranean mezze, can either start a meal or constitute the entire thing.
Pit cookery is familiar all over the world: in Hawaii, there is the luau, the Maya have the pib, and we have curanto. Curanto has always been part of a coming-of-age rite of the Tehuelche people of Patagonia. Traditionally, it began when the chief took his place, surrounded by the bare-breasted maidens of the tribe. To attract the attention and win the favor of the young ladies, the young men danced and engaged in feats of horsemanship. All in attendance sipped a fermented corn beverage. Over the course of eight days of drinking and dancing and even animal sacrifice (involving removing the beating heart from a prize mare), people whipped themselves into an ecstatic and inebriated state. The communal meal was a curanto of potatoes, corn, squashes, guanaco (a cousin to the llama), rhea (ostrich), and, in later times, lamb, beef, and pork. In a less wild form, this rite is still practiced by the Tehuelche to mark the first full moon of spring.
Wedges of these spicy kulchas are great as an appetizer with any legume curry. Of course they are best when they are hot off the grill, but you can make a batch ahead of time; wrap them in foil and rewarm them in a preheated 300ºF oven for about 10 minutes. Like many of the Indian flatbreads, this freezes very well for up to 2 months.
These potatoes will be the brightest taste on the plate.
Fresh summer greens and bits of sweet red pepper dot rice the color of a sunset — this is one good-looking salad to bring to the table, or to pack away for a picnic. In fact, I first tasted it when a Spanish friend brought it to one of our “Shakespeare in the Park” picnics in New York. It’s indestructible enough to go almost anywhere. Can be made hours ahead and chilled, but serve the salad at room temperature.
Food writer Maureen Abood learned how to make these fragrant cinnamon-laced Lebanese lamb and onion pies from her grandmother. Maureen fondly recalls how her grandmother, who used about twenty-five pounds of flour a week for baking, made the dough and filling and shaped the pies. Fatayar are eaten out of hand as part of a meal or as a snack on their own. They are relatively quick and easy to put together once the dough has risen.
When I was in Paris, I sent this recipe that I had developed to my parents, hoping they would try it for a more pâté-de-campagne-like version of our standard meatloaf that I had developed. Knowing my mother's aversion to garlic, I suggested that the two fat garlic cloves called for could be sliced and spread on the top and removed before serving, to get just a whiff of that garlic flavor, but it is really much better when they are mashed into the ground meats.