With its lemony color and artistically sweeping curves, I felt regret dissecting nature’s work of art. Guilt heavy in my heart, I sank my knife into its thick body and prepped it for a higher calling.

Oyster mushrooms have a delicate but almost briny flavor, like their namesake, and pair well with eggs. They emit a subtly dirty aroma when raw and an almost custardy, creamy odor when cooked. A touch of olive oil or butter renders them succulent and rich, their flaky flesh morphing into tender, luscious meat.

Layered, light-as-air puff pastry is the canvas for my tart. Mushrooms beg for cream and cheese, and buttery Taleggio, velvety crème fraiche and nutty Gruyère happily cradle the golden, bubbly nooks and crannies of the pastry. A scattering of barky shiitake and pastel farm-fresh eggs build on the earthy, briny and creamy qualities of the tart.

The stall next to the mushrooms was selling lime-hued spring onions and chives which I knew would look and taste the part, and add a pop of grassy color. Utilizing both the tangy whites and sweet greens of the onion adds depth of flavor, and the green bits crisp pleasantly around the edges when cooked.

We gobbled up the tart in minutes, a perfect harmony of spring’s bounty. Perhaps we should have paced ourselves, savoring every mellifluous bite, letting the luxurious flavors melt on our tongues. But alas, we were very hungry and I have a hard time going slowly with any food drizzled in truffle oil, the heady perfume bewitching me nose to lips!

Spring Mushroom Tart with Green Onions and Farm Fresh Eggs

1 sheet puff pastry dough
1 egg, lightly beaten, with 1 tablespoon water
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 pound assorted spring mushrooms (such as oyster, shiitake), sliced
1 teaspoon fresh thyme, finely chopped
2 spring onions, green parts roughly torn, white parts thinly slices
1 teaspoon garlic
Salt and pepper to taste
1/4 cup crème fraiche
1/2 cup Gruyère, grated
1 1/2 ounces Taleggio, broken apart into small chunks
3-4 eggs
Chives
Truffle oil for drizzling

1. Thaw the puff pastry dough according to package instructions.

2. Heat olive oil in a large pan over medium-high heat. Add mushrooms and sauté until soft, about 5 minutes. Season with salt, pepper and thyme. Add butter and white part of onions to pan and continue to cook until golden, about 3 minutes. Stir in garlic and cook for about 30 seconds. Transfer mushrooms to a small bowl and set aside.

3. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

4. Roll out thawed dough on a lightly floured surface to a 13 x 9 1/2-inch rectangle. Transfer dough to a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Using a paring knife lightly score a border 1/2-inch from the edge of the dough, making sure not to cut all the way through. Pierce the inside of the dough all over with a fork. Brush the border with the egg wash.

5. Spread crème fraiche over the puff pastry inside the border. Sprinkle with half the cheese and half the mushrooms and then one more layer of each.

6. Lay the onion greens over the tart and bake for 15 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through baking.

7. Remove pan from the oven and crack the eggs onto the tart. Bake about 10 minutes, or until the egg whites are set and yolks are still runny.

8. Clip chives with scissors over tart and drizzle with truffle oil. Serve immediately.

Yield: Serves 3 to 4 people.

The fractured, cheek-chaffing weather has turned a corner. The first demure buds begin stretching their limbs, awakening from a subterranean slumber. Instantaneously I begin craving grilled foods. But New York City life, for us, means no grill. I yearn for food that’s been kissed by hot coals, drenched in fiery goodness, ensconced in flames.

Though I tend to eschew red peppers in the raw, roasting them on high heat renders their sweetness, releasing an aroma akin to a feverous campfire. Scorch peppers on high heat and you get burnt, charred, bubbly skin. Cooking them removes the mild bitterness I dislike bestowing a sweet earthiness, their natural crunchiness making way for soft, tender flesh.

There are endless ways to utilize roasted red peppers but my favorite is marinated in fruity extra virgin olive oil, pungent raw garlic, spicy chili pepper flakes and sour lemon slices. Leave them to sit overnight in a mason jar so the flavors meld.

To make marinated roasted red peppers, remove them from the oven, blackened and blistered. Let them briefly macerate in their own sticky, syrupy juices and then peel back their ashen, loosely fitting coats.

I want to emphasize that although I store the peppers in a mason jar, this is not a proper canning method. The peppers are marinated, not preserved, and should keep a week or two in the refrigerator.

Serve the glassy peppers on a rustic sandwich or blended with pine nuts, walnuts and a touch of cream for a sweet and earthy pasta sauce. Eat them alone with a few anchovies and capers dusted with aromatic, lemony basil or use them to elevate a custardy poached egg.

This time I served them to my family curled snugly over crackly, peppery garlic toasts, layered with fluffy pillows of creamy, salty, tart goat cheese and a light drizzle of the marinade liquid. Fragrant oil infiltrates the bread, each bite a mélange of sweet and salt, crunchy and chewy, creamy and earthy.

Spicy, Garlicky Marinated Red Peppers
5 Red Bell Peppers
3-4 Garlic Cloves, thinly sliced
4 1/2-inch thick lemon slices, seeds removed
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Kosher salt to taste

Equipment: 1-pint canning jar

1. Position rack in top of third of oven and preheat broiler on high.

2. Clean and dry peppers and lay them on their sides on a foil-lined baking sheet. Roast in oven until first side is blackened, about 10 minutes. Rotate peppers with tongs until all sides are evenly charred, about 25-35 minutes total, depending on size of peppers.

3. Transfer hot peppers to a large bowl or casserole dish and cover tightly with plastic wrap. Set aside at room temperature, about 20 minutes, until peppers are wrinkly and cool enough to handle.

4. Remove stems, seeds and skin from peppers and cut into 1-inch strips. Set aside peppers and their juices in a clean bowl.

5. Add peppers and pepper juice to canning jar, along with sliced garlic, pepper flakes slices and salt. Mix gently with a spoon until well combined, being careful not to break up peppers. Add lemon slices to outside edges of jar, pushing them down with a spoon, and cover with olive oil.

6. Cover with lid and store in refrigerator about 12 hours. Use within 7-10 days.

After tasting Chef Harold Dieterle’s pitch-perfect signature duck meatballs at his West Village eatery Perilla, I was hooked. While meatballs are the dish-of-the-moment, Dieterle’s stray from convention: piquant, tender duck balls paired with homemade mint and ricotta cavatelli in a rich, velvety broth.

The meatballs are fatty ground duck mixed with panko and seasoned with licorice-flavored Thai basil and given a tongue-titillating bite with Sriracha. The finished dish is crowned with a delicate, yet decadent raw quail egg, giving the meatballs and dumplings a satiny richness. Chef Dieterle conjures up flavor profile combinations I’ve never tasted- fruity and herbaceous, spicy hot, earthy and creamy. Flavor nuances unfurl with every bite.

The most difficult aspect of making this dish at home, for me, was rolling the dumplings. I do not have a cavatelli mold and it took more than several misguided attempts to find my groove. Once I was able to comfortably roll the cavatelli, each piece looked more perfect than the previous.

There are several versions of Harold Dieterle’s recipe available online. I skipped out on the water spinach he uses at Perilla, mostly because it was not included in the version of the recipe I used. Though I know the chef prefers to grind his own meat, I had my local butcher do it for me, rather than toiling away with my insufficient meat grinder.

Chef Dieterle recommends using duck stock for his meatballs. If duck stock is unavailable or you do not have time to make your own, use a reduced chicken stock. If all else fails, veal stock is a fine option. However, I went out on a limb and used a combination of brown chicken stock, duck stock and veal stock purchased at an artisanal butcher.

Artfully plated, the meatballs are nestled in a warm bowl with chewy-tender mint cavatelli, moistened by spicy, deeply rich broth. Sprinkled with creamy parmesan, a delicate quail egg perched demurely on top, this dish is concurrently rich, surprising and comforting.

Duck Meatballs with Mint Cavatelli
Adapted from Harold Dieterle 

Mint Cavatelli:
1/3 cup fresh ricotta cheese
1 large egg
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons chopped mint
Olive oil

Duck Meatballs:
3 teaspoons olive oil
1 onion, very finely chopped
5 cloves garlic, very finely chopped
1 pound ground duck
1 tablespoon coarsely chopped basil
2 tablespoons chile sauce such as sriracha or sambal
1/4 cup panko
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
3 shallots, sliced crosswise
2 plum tomatoes, chopped
1/2 cup white wine
8 cups brown chicken stock, veal stock, duck stock or combination
8 sprigs fresh thyme
4 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces
4 teaspoons chopped mint
4 teaspoons chopped chives
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese, for serving
4 quail eggs

To make mint cavatelli:
1. In a large bowl, mix together ricotta and eggs; season with salt and pepper. Gradually sift in 3/4 cup flour. Add mint and knead mixture until a dough forms. Turn dough out onto work surface and knead a few more times until smooth; form dough into a ball, cover with plastic wrap, and let stand 30 minutes.
Sprinkle work surface with remaining 2 tablespoons flour. Turn dough out onto floured work surface and knead flour into dough. Roll out dough until it is 1/4 inch thick. Using a sharp knife, cut dough into 1-inch-wide strips. Run dough through a cavatelli maker or cut each strip into 1-by-1/2-inch pieces.

2. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Generously salt boiling water and return to a boil. Add cavatelli to boiling water and cook until tender and floats to the surface, about 1 1/2 minutes. Drain and transfer cavatelli to a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and let cool.

To make duck meatballs:
1. Heat 1 teaspoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add onion and 3 cloves garlic. Cook, stirring, until translucent, about 5 minutes; remove from heat and let cool.

2. Add onion and garlic mixture to a large bowl, along with, ground duck, basil, chile sauce, panko, and eggs. Knead mixture until well combined; season with salt and pepper. Transfer mixture to refrigerator and let chill for 30 minutes.

3. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

4. Remove duck mixture from refrigerator and form into 1 1/2- to 2-inch balls. Transfer to a baking sheet. Transfer baking sheet to oven and cook for 10 minutes.

5. Heat 1 teaspoon olive oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add remaining 2 cloves garlic, 1 shallot, and plum tomatoes. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 2 minutes. Add wine and cook until liquid is reduced by half, about 4 minutes. Add stock and thyme; let simmer for 20 minutes.

6. Strain liquid through a fine mesh strainer set over another large saucepan, discarding solids. Transfer meatballs to liquid and place over medium heat. Let meatballs simmer until cooked through, about 30 minutes.

7. Heat remaining teaspoon olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add remaining 2 shallots and cook, stirring occasionally, until translucent, about 2 minutes. Add meatballs and their cooking liquid, cavatelli, butter, mint, and chives; let cook for 2 minutes.

8. Divide mixture evenly between 4 bowls. Sprinkle over freshly grated parmesan cheese and crack a quail egg into each bowl; serve immediately.

Yield: 4 servings

For many, tasting an oyster for the first time is a memorable culinary milestone. Crisp, icy flesh slides down the throat, sometimes delighting, sometimes shocking and sometimes revolting. Nuanced, briny flavors stimulate the tongue. Consuming something so fresh and dynamic, tasting of the vivacious environment from which it came, titillates thrill-seekers and pleasure-hunters.

I recently brought home a half dozen Kusshi, which are still somewhat rare on the East Coast. Kusshis are grown in British Columbia. The name means “precious” in Japanese and they are known for their deep, cavernous shell which yields plump, soft and juicy flesh, and a clean, smooth flavor.

I love most oysters: big, small, tender, chewy, coppery, lemony, brassy, cucumbery, sweet, melony and creamy. Sometimes nothing beats Wellfleet oysters, ubiquitous on the East Coast, and the very first variety I ever tasted. Eating Wellfleets recalls trips to Cape Cod, the smell of the salty air, the sand between my toes, the oysters tasting sweetly of Atlantic Ocean seaweed. I find myself partial to Pacific Northwest oysters, however, like the Kusshi or Kumamoto, both petite and sweet, tender and juicy.

I hadn’t opened an oyster in over ten years when we brought the Kusshis home. Prying an oyster open is a primal act. A quick twist of the wrist reveals a creature’s habitat, exposing its naked, still-quivering flesh, ready for instantaneous consumption. Eating the tiny bivalve is visceral because of their rawness. Nary a minute lapses between life, death and mastication. Opening an oyster for the first time is thrilling but also an emotional rite of passage.

Oyster purists prefer their bivalves undressed or with a simple squeeze of lemon, revealing their uniquely briny personalities and ocean-salt nuances. I served the Kusshis plain and dressed up with apple kimchi and yuzu mignonette. Kusshis are ideal unadorned, their small bodies tender and fleshy between the gums and their flavor delicate and sweet.

While the apple kimchi is bold and sweet, and packs a spicy punch, it drowns out the naturally mild flavor of the Kusshi. To make the apple kimchi, you can use homemade or good quality store-bought kimchi. Blend it to a near pulp and mix with diced apples. I suggest using apple kimchi for brinier oysters like Kachemak Bay or Island Creek.

For the Kusshi, we preferred the mouth-puckering and citrusy yuzu mignonette to the apple kimchi. For a half dozen oysters I use half a finely diced shallot, or about 1 tablespoon, about 1/2 teaspoon of yuzu juice and rice wine vinegar. The yuzu is tart and briny and brings out the naturally sweet and cucumber flavored flesh of the Kusshis.

I recommend making both the kimchi and mignonette to meet your taste needs. I like my apple kimchi with a lot of kimchi while others tend to prefer it sweeter. In that case, use less kimchi and more diced apple.

Apple Kimchi
1 apple, cut into a 1-inch dice
1/4 cup kimchi

Puree kimchi in a blender to a fine chop but not quite a puree. Mix with freshly cut apples. Serve right away or refrigerate for up to 4 hours.

Yield: About 1 cup apple kimchi

Yuzu Mignonette
1 tablespoon finely chopped shallot
1/4 cup rice wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon yuzu, or to taste
Ground black pepper to taste
Salt to taste, optional

Combine ingredients and chill. Serve with oysters on the half shell.

Yield: About 1/4 cup or enough for half dozen dozen oysters

I habitually make cooking difficult for myself, especially birthday and holiday feasts. Special occasion meals usually involve multiple courses, and oftentimes an architectural diagram outlining ingredients, flavor profiles and plating schemes.

A few years ago I made a somewhat simple meat and potatoes themed dinner for my husband’s birthday. I struggled to select a pitch-perfect vegetable to accompany beef tenderloin with herb-infused butter and potatoes au gratin. He dislikes artichokes (crazy!), we’ve overdone crispy roast asparagus (for shame!), and we deemed broccoli too quotidian for his birthday meal.

We settled on this inspired and elegant braised carrot dish from a 2008 issue of Gourmet Magazine. It is so effortless I make it not only for special occasions but for everyday dinners.

The technique is almost elementary: cook leeks until soft, tender and subtly golden, their sweetness exemplified, their bitterness eviscerated. Add carrots to the leeks along with water and vinegar, simmering until the carrots soften and the liquid evaporates.

It is the perfect side to accompany crispy-skinned roast chicken, to back up a birthday roast or even with a simple salmon en papillote. I gravitate to this dish and it always fulfills my cravings. Vinegar adds a tangy, mouth-puckering kick to the sweet leeks and earthy vegetable. It hits every note.

If you need a last minute quick vegetable to spice up your Christmas or Hanukkah feast, look no further than this timeless, simple and above all, deeply flavorful side dish that might just outshine your protein.

Carrots and Leeks
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine

3 medium leeks (white and pale green parts only)
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 pound carrots, cut diagonally into 1 1/4-inch pieces
1 1/4cups water
1/2 cup red-wine vinegar

1. Halve leeks lengthwise, then cut crosswise into 1-inch pieces and wash

2. Sauté leeks in butter with 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper in a 12-inch heavy skillet over medium-high heat until softened, 5 to 6 minutes.

3. Stir in carrots, water, and vinegar. Cook, covered, over medium-high heat until carrots are tender, 20 to 25 minutes.

4. Boil, uncovered, until liquid has evaporated, 3 to 5 minutes.

Yield: 4 servings.

The dog days of summer have ebbed and flowed. Recipes for cold summer soups and raw vegetable salads are being tucked gently into storage. Soon we’ll be eating creamy butternut squash risotto, piping hot fall vegetable soups and ubiquitous apple cider donuts.

But before we bid adieu to zucchini and usher in their fall, hard-shelled counterparts, say hello to a lingering taste of summer. This elegant salad takes advantage of a plentiful vegetable that, though usually served cooked, works well in the raw. I like to keep things Spartan, dressing the zucchini in a straightforwardly light lemon vinaigrette that uses a combination of olive oil and walnut oil. The nutty walnut oil brings out the earthiness of the summer squash and pairs perfectly with a sprinkling of toasted hazelnuts or walnuts. To tie the flavors together, I finish it with the ne plus ultra of nutty/fruity hard cheeses, Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Like with eggplant, it is important to salt and drain the zucchini. It changes the stiff crispness of the slices to more of a pasta-like texture, while still retaining the characteristic snap.

Zucchini Carpaccio
3 large zucchini, washed, skin on, and thinly sliced into strips with either a Y vegetable peeler or a mandolin
1 1/2 plus 1/4 teaspoons salt
1/8 cup lemon juice
1 teaspoon packed lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon honey
1/8 cup good quality extra virgin olive oil
1/8 cup walnut oil
2 tablespoons packed basil chiffonade
2 tablespoons packed mint chiffonade
Toasted and roughly chopped walnuts or skinless hazelnuts to taste
Parmigiano-Reggiano to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Sprinkle zucchini with 1 1/2 teaspoons salt and drain over a colander for about 10 minutes.

2. In a large mixing bowl, whisk the lemon juice, lemon zest, honey and salt until combined. Whisk in oils. Add zucchini and toss well.

3. Arrange zucchini slices, gently overlapping, on a serving platter. Sprinkle with herbs, nuts and black pepper. Grate Parmigiano-Reggiano over salad and serve.

Yield: 4 servings.

I’ve been relishing the remarkable texture and flavor of raw zucchini since I began working the farmers’ market circuit a handful of years ago. I was extremely lucky to live just several blocks from the famous Santa Monica farmer’s market, a veritable playground for organic fruit and vegetable enthusiasts. Every week, I would pick up bags busting with verdant greens, ruby red strawberries, crisp and juicy citrus, aromatic herbs and pregnantly plump squash. Zucchini became one of my favorite purchases since it is an extremely versatile squash, frequently available and often cheaper than some of its more exotic counterparts.

Furthermore, zucchini needs no cooking. The velvety meaty texture yields a hearty, satisfying snap. Summer zucchini need a little facelift, but not much. Serving them raw highlights their attributes- a delicately sweet flavor, their natural crunch, their unspoiled emerald color.

The following recipe is one of two I will be featuring this summer highlighting raw zucchini.

I discovered zucchini “noodles” a few years ago when I tried an exclusively raw diet for a few days to cure my general malaise and regain my energy. For zucchini pasta, the vegetable is cut thin and long to emulate spaghetti, and served with a tangy, garlicky raw tomato sauce. The mild, earthy zucchini make a nice vehicle for the ruby-hued marinara. While healthy and cleansing, it packs a hearty, filling punch.

Zucchini Ribbons with Raw Tomato Marinara
Adapted from Ani Phyo

1 1/4 pounds tomatoes, diced
2 dry-packed or oil-packed sun-dried tomato halves
1/2 cup basil leaves
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 soft Medjool date, pitted and minced
1 small garlic clove
1 teaspoon thyme leaves
1 teaspoon coarsely chopped flat-leaf parsley
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
4 medium zucchini (1 3/4 pounds)

1. In a blender, combine the fresh tomatoes with the sun-dried tomatoes, basil, olive oil, lemon juice, date, garlic, thyme and parsley and puree until smooth. Season the sauce with salt and pepper.

2. Using a mandoline, cut the zucchini lengthwise into 1/8-inch slices, then cut the slices lengthwise into 1/8-inch strips resembling spaghetti. Transfer the zucchini noodles to a bowl.

3. Add the marinara sauce, toss to coat and serve immediately.

Yield: 4 servings.

Last year I became a very fortunate fan-girl when I was asked to interview Tony Danza, one of my favorite childhood television stars, for a holiday-centric profile that was never published. Since we spoke, I have made his Sunday sauce with meatballs countless times.

With his son Marc, he wrote the adorable, pint-sized cookbook Don’t Fill Up on the Antipasto: Tony Danza’s Father-Son Cookbook (Scribner, 2008) jam-packed with his beloved Italian-American family recipes. And I have to admit, Mr. Danza is one hell of a cook!

“Food was what we did in my family,” reminisced Danza. “We met over food, and not just during the holidays. It was always about food: what we were having, who was making what. I had a real Italian upbringing: my grandfather made wine, my grandmother made homemade olives. And you never know what would appear in the Sunday sauce. I’m sure a pigeon or two made it in!”

The Christmas meal was particularly significant for Danza’s family, especially his grandparents. It signified their journey to the United States, their struggles, their successes and, most of all, their desire to make a better life for their children and grandchildren. “They tried to assimilate into the country and wanted to do better for their kids,” he says. “Christmas became a sign that they made it.”

Danza told me that their Christmases consisted of Italian-American dishes such as his family’s beloved lasagna, manicotti, an array of antipasti and very American roast turkey. He also gave me the recipe for his meatballs and sauce, which includes two ingredients his family used to make their holiday lasagna: meatballs and Sunday sauce.

I didn’t know what to expect the first time I tried the recipe. I guess you could say I was skeptical. I mean, isn’t this the man known for the catch phrase “ay oh- oh ay?” The sauce is cooked in the true Italian mode: low and slow. And with pork ribs and meatballs simmering in the red sauce for hours, the taste is deep, rich and complex. In fact, it may be the most layered, full-bodied red sauces I have ever tasted.

Sunday Sauce with Meatballs

Sauce:
2 cans (35 ounces each) plum tomatoes with basil
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
4 garlic cloves, chopped
1 medium onion, chopped
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1/2 cup red wine
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup water
1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, cut into thin strips

Meatballs and Ribs:
1 pound ground sirloin or lean ground beef, pork, turkey, veal, chicken, or any combination
2 eggs
6 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1/2 cup seasoned bread crumbs
1 tablespoons salt
1 tablespoon black pepper
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup milk
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup extra virgin olive oil
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 pound pork spareribs, trimmed
1 can (6 ounces) tomato paste

1. Strain the tomatoes in a colander to extract the juice, breaking the tomatoes apart with your hands. Discard the pulp. (This eliminates the bitter part of the tomato.)

2. Now make the meatballs. Put the ground meat in a mixing bowl. Beat the eggs and add them to the meat along with 6 cloves garlic, the bread crumbs, salt, pepper, Parmesan, and milk. Mix this all together with your hands. Wet your hands with water and continue to wet them as you pinch meat from the bowl and roll into 2-inch balls. Roll the balls in the flour.

3. Heat the oil in a large skillet. Add 3 cloves chopped garlic and sauté until golden brown. Remove the garlic with a slotted spoon and set aside. Add the meatballs and sauté over medium-high heat, turning them, until they are brown all over. As soon as you can pick them up with a fork, they are ready. You don’t want them to be well done. (If the meatball slides off the fork when you pick it up, it needs to cook a little longer.)

4. Cut the ribs apart. Sauté them in the hot oil until very brown and remove. Return the garlic to the oil and add the tomato paste to the pan. Cook, stirring, over medium heat for about 3 minutes. Remove from the heat.

5. Back to the sauce: Heat the olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. Add 4 cloves garlic, the onion, red and black pepper and sauté until the onion is soft and beginning to brown, about 5 minutes. Add the juiced tomatoes, red wine, Parmesan, and salt. Add the tomato paste and the water and stir together over medium heat. Add the meatballs and spareribs. Bring to an easy boil, then simmer over low heat for 2 hours.

6. Add the basil and simmer for 15 minutes more. The spareribs should be very tender, falling off the bone, and the meatballs should float in the sauce.

Yield: Serves 4 to 6.

I’m always pleasantly surprised to sit down at a restaurant and find a bread basket filled with salty, warm focaccia instead of the ubiquitous hunks of nondescript bread that fill the stomach while leaving the soul empty. I can think of nothing better to start a meal than this soft and spongy Italian specialty, its moon-like craters filled with hot pools of olive oil, coated in an inviting layer of crusty salt and crispy herbs.

And with the holidays upon us, I begin a treasure hunt for inspired recipes and flavor combinations, familiar and homey, but with a twist. This focaccia recipe is utterly simple to assemble, yet the interplay of flavors- sweet and fruity grapes and sea salt, tangy shallots and earthy rosemary- give way to synergistic bread, a marriage of aromas and tastes more dynamic than the sum of its individual parts.

The flavor combination is traditionally Italian. I used both red and green grapes as that is what I had in stock. If using sea salt, be sparse- a little goes a long way.

Requiring only premade pizza dough, there is no need to slave away with packets of yeast and no need to massage the dough. This recipe is like a holiday recipe in itself: simplicity gift-wrapped and served-up in the form of piping hot, springy bread that packs a serious flavor punch.

Grape Focaccia

1 pound pizza dough, preferably from your local pizzeria
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium shallot, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary leaves or 2 teaspoons dried rosemary
1 cup red grapes (or 1/2 cup red grapes and 1/2 cup green grapes)
Coarse sea salt or kosher salt to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
Honey for drizzling

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Roll the pizza dough into a rectangle on sheet of parchment paper or a silpat. Place the dough and parchment paper (or silpat) on a baking sheet.

2. Brush the dough with the olive oil and sprinkle with salt, garlic, shallot and rosemary. Spread the grapes evenly on dough and push slightly into the dough. Drizzle honey and black pepper to taste.

3. Bake about 25 minutes or until golden.

I had been conducting research on Jewish gangsters and their noshing habits. Believe it or not, they eat, just like us. They don’t inject themselves with a mercury-based liquid metal to gain mental and physical powers over the layman. Nor do they eat a solid diet of bullets and other gangster-tested, mobster-approved paraphernalia.

My gangster research was myopically focused on finding a recipe suitable for contribution to a satire magazine for their crime-themed issue, which ended up being an exercise in futility professionally, but very interesting on personal and academic levels.

I needed to find a solid dish, beloved by the Jewish mob, and recreate it in my own culinary style. In order to do my research, I spoke with notable New York historian Dr. Phil Schoenberg, a NYU PhD best known for his historic tours of New York City. I also spoke with a retired NYPD detective who, before his exit from the force, worked on Russian organized crime cases as an undercover and an investigator.

We spoke of the Kosher Mafia and their preferred restaurants. Never men to shy away from the hyperbolic lifestyle, many could be seen frequenting the kitschy, over-the-top banquet halls in Brooklyn’s Brighton Beach, such as the famed Rasputin. Others like Bugsy Siegel and Meyer Leven preferred cuisine like their bubbies made, holing up inside the mystical Ratner’s vegetarian restaurant, a kosher dairy enclave that served up to 1,200 per diem in their heyday. And still others went the way of the Jewish deli, specifically Katz’s. Maybe they sent a salami to their loved one in the army? On second thought, they probably used the salami as a club.

Since my research took me back to the Brighton Beach area of Brooklyn, I started to crave Russian specialties and decided to whip up a batch of Thomas Keller’s mini blini. Though he’s not exactly a Russian cook, Chef Keller’s blini are light, airy, creamy and as opulent as the Russian nightclubs in Brighton Beach. The savory, silver dollar-sized pancakes are made from Yukon Gold potatoes and as Keller notes, the waxy potatoes allow the batter to absorb more cream. Garnishes can be as simple or lavish as you wish, ranging from a dab of rich butter, a tomato confit like Keller uses, caviar, or smoked salmon and a dollop of crème fraîche, the latter being my personal favorite.

Blini
Adapted from The French Laundry Cookbook

1 pound Yukon Gold potatoes
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 to 3 tablespoons crème fraîche, at room temperature
2 large eggs
1 large egg yolk
Kosher salt and freshly ground white pepper

1. Place the potatoes in a saucepan with cold water to cover by at least 2 inches. Bring to a boil over high heat, reduce the heat, and simmer until the potatoes are thoroughly cooked and tender.

2. Peel the warm potatoes and press them through a potato ricer. Immediately weigh out 9 ounces of puréed potatoes and place them in a medium metal bowl. Working quickly, whisk the flour into the warm potatoes, then whisk in 2 tablespoons crème fraîche. Add 1 egg, whisking until the batter is smooth, add the second egg, and then add the yolk.

3. Hold the whisk with some of the batter over the bowl. The batter should fall in a thick stream but hold its shape when it hits the batter in the bowl. If it is too thick, add a little more ore me fraîche. Season to taste with salt and white pepper.

5. Heat an electric griddle to 350 degrees. If you do not have a griddle, heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-low heat. Spoon between 1 and 1-1/2 teaspoons of batter onto the griddle or skillet for each pancake. Cook until the bottoms are browned, 1 to 2 minutes. Then flip them to cook the second side, about 1 minute. The blini should be evenly browned with a small ring of white around the edges. Transfer the blini to a small baking sheet and keep warm while you make the remaining blini, wiping the skillet with a paper towel between batches. Serve the blini as soon as possible.

Yield: About 3 dozen small blini.