The first time I ate asparagus the correct way was as a student in Paris in the 1960s. Whenever I had lunch with Renée and her husband, Camille Dreyfus, a doctor who was the physician to Charles de Gaulle, I was confronted with the complexities of elegant French dining. Luckily, their butler, probably having pity on me, helped me navigate the many knives and forks, finger bowls, doilies, etc. Because a huge flower arrangement usually sat at the center of their round table, I couldn’t see how the Dreyfuses ate . . . and, fortunately for me, they couldn’t see how I ate. Once, during the asparagus season, the butler served me white-asparagus spears, which I ate with my fork, cutting them as daintily as I could. To my surprise, Dr. and Madame Dreyfus, the most proper people I knew in Paris, gingerly ate the spears, one by one, with their fingers. They then washed their hands in the finger bowls. Years later, I ate dinner in Strasbourg at the home of Pierre and Martine Bloch at the start of the local asparagus season. The minute I entered their apartment, I could smell the asparagus being steamed in the kitchen. Then Martine shared her trick for cooking white asparagus: put a little sugar in the water, to bring out the flavor.
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
Serve a thick slice for breakfast or an afternoon pick-me-up.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
Reliable cabbage is cooked in the punchy sauce and then combined with store-bought baked tofu and roasted cashews for a salad that can also be eaten with rice.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.
This is the type of soup that, at first glance, might seem a little…unexciting. But you’re underestimating the power of mushrooms, which do the heavy lifting.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.