Read Mark Bittman's Quick and Easy Recipes from the New York Times Online
Authors: Mark Bittman
For
Emma,
Kate,
Murray,
and
Gertrude
PUBLISHED BY BROADWAY BOOKS
Copyright © 2007 by Mark Bittman
All Rights Reserved
Published in the United States by
Broadway Books, an imprint of The
Doubleday Broadway Publishing
Group, a division of Random House,
Inc., New York.
www.broadwaybooks.com
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Book design by Elizabeth Rendfleisch
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-
Publication Data
Bittman, Mark.
Mark Bittman’s quick and easy
recipes from the
New York Times
/ by
Mark Bittman.
p. cm.
1. Quick and easy cookery. 2. Cookery,
International. I. Title.
TX833.5.B556 2007
641.5‘5—dc22
eISBN: 978-0-307-88548-7
2006030529
v3.1
HOW TO COOK EVERYTHING
FISH: THE COMPLETE GUIDE TO BUYING AND COOKING
THE MINIMALIST COOKS DINNER
THE MINIMALIST COOKS AT HOME
THE MINIMALIST ENTERTAINS
HOW TO COOK EVERYTHING: THE BASICS
HOW TO COOK EVERYTHING: BITTMAN TAKES ON AMERICA’S CHEFS
THE BEST RECIPES IN THE WORLD
with Jean-Georges Vongerichten
JEAN-GEORGES: COOKING AT HOME WITH A FOUR-STAR CHEF
SIMPLE TO SPECTACULAR
In 1995 Trish Hall, then editor of the
New York Times
Living section, asked me to develop a weekly column. Two years later, when the section was re-launched as Dining In/Dining Out, that column became “The Minimalist.” The column title, and indeed its theme, were the brainchildren of Rick Flaste, an inspired and inspiring editor and person. Though there are dozens of people I’m grateful to for their help and support in my work at the
Times
and on my cookbooks, Trish and Rick were largely responsible for beginning a weekly relationship that as of this writing is going on eleven years, and I’m eternally grateful.
During that period I have outlasted a slew of editors but have enjoyed none more than my current chief, Nick Fox. I’ve happily worked with deputy Pat Gurosky from the beginning. I’d also like to single out Sam Sifton, now a big honcho at the paper, who not only reinspired me during a rough patch but had the savvy to bring Nick on board.
Scores of chefs, fellow food writers, and home cooks, especially in the New York area but all over the world, have given me great ideas for “the Mini”—trying to single them out would only offend those I miss. Special thanks go to Jennifer Josephy, my editor at Broadway, to Bill Shinker, who brought the Minimalist books there about ten years ago, and to Steve Rubin, my publisher and friend. Peter “The Kid” Meehan and Chris Benton also played key roles in pulling this book together.
Many of my close friends and colleagues have made my life easier and fuller over the years, but again to mention them individually would only get me in trouble. The exceptions are my closest confidants, companions, and spiritual advisers: Angela Miller, John H. Willoughby, Charlie Pinsky, and the indefatigable Reverend Dr. L. Serene Jones. My family—in all its forms—has played a big role in inspiring and supporting me and in eating the food I cook, like it or not. Though the days of raising a young family have passed for me, they are a constant reminder of the importance of cooking in daily life. I wish I could talk about this with the first great cook I knew, Helen Art, who would probably love the Minimalist—critically, of course.
THIS COLLECTION OF RECIPES
includes just about everything I’ve published in the
New York Times
Dining section in the last ten years. “The Minimalist,” my weekly column, was launched then, with the idea of offering people a simple and easy recipe (sometimes three or four recipes) every week, recipes that more often than not could be put together quickly, on a weeknight. The idea is no longer novel, but it was fresh then, and it’s more valid now than ever.
Looking back on these recipes, I’m happy about how useful they remain. Which is as it should be: good, simple recipes are not trendy but timeless, or nearly so. Simple, as a friend of mine said to me, need not mean simple-minded. As much thought and work may go into figuring out a great three-ingredient, thirty-minute recipe as one that includes thirty ingredients and takes three hours. The fact that the preparation and execution are
faster and easier does not make the recipe less sophisticated, complex, or desirable—indeed, it may make it more so.
Many of these are traditional recipes from around the world, updated. Almost all of them require a minimum of technique and/or a minimum number of ingredients; when they’re not fast, they’re “largely unattended,” a phrase I adore for describing the kind of cooking that lets you leave the kitchen for long stretches. In general, my approach is less-is-more, an attempt to produce recipes that are so sophisticated, savvy, and fresh that they will inspire even experienced cooks while being basic and simple enough to tempt novices.
As you look through these recipes, you’ll see that my style of cooking is more flexible than that of many other cookbook writers; it’s not the style of chefs but of traditional home cooks, who’ve always made do with what they’ve had. Sometimes the success of a dish hinges on a single ingredient (obviously, you can’t roast a chicken without a chicken), but more often it does not—herbs and spices can be omitted and substituted for one another, chicken can pinch-hit for fish and pork for chicken (and vice versa), many fish are interchangeable, many vegetables can be treated the same. To a beginning or only slightly experienced cook, these recipes and variations can be followed step by step; eventually, these cooks will gain the confidence to begin creating their own variations. To a veteran cook, these recipes—like all others—are just descriptions of a general technique applied to a preferred set of ingredients, not to be taken too literally. But veterans will find plenty of good ideas here, too.
This way of thinking, that cooking is not a set of dogmas but a craft that can be learned and enjoyed, is no longer the most common approach. By the thousands, people go to cooking schools to learn standardized skills; this approach didn’t exist a hundred years ago and barely had any traction at all until the 1980s. For people who want to go into cooking as a profession, I have no problem with this (though I always encourage young people to do things the old-fashioned way, by finding a chef who will work them to death for a couple of years). But when faced with the choice between ironclad recipes or those that encourage flexibility, I always opt for the latter.
Nor is this a theory; I learned it by cooking tens of thousands of meals at home, almost always for my family, almost always without adequate time
or planning. The organized chef knows what he or she is going to cook and has all the ingredients at hand. But most of us decide what to prepare based on what’s in the fridge, pantry, or shopping bag. Minimizing the required number of ingredients, then, is a top priority. Recognizing that some ingredients can almost always be switched or dispensed with is an important axiom.
Stripping recipes to their bare essentials and seeing ingredients as interchangeable are big parts of the Minimalist plan, but there is more. Home cooks in the United States are seeing the introduction of a new set of basic recipes, not the French classics revisited or the Italian staples revealed—although these are certainly parts of the trend—but the informal, quick, everyday food of households from all over the world.
In cultures where cooking is thousands of years old, most recipes are little more than combinations of the ingredients that appear seasonally. Now, for the first time in history, the standard ingredients of many of those cuisines are available at most supermarkets, opening new possibilities to both novice and experienced cooks. The result is that cooking no longer has to be complicated to be interesting and unusual. What’s common to a home cook in Mexico, Greece, or Thailand may be exotic to us; what’s new is that the ingredients are sold at supermarkets, and the expertise needed to put them together is available in cookbooks like this one.
Thus the recipes here not only provide great weeknight dinners. They will change the repertoire of experienced cooks while demonstrating contemporary cooking basics and teaching home cooks how to develop the sixth sense that comes with experience.
Again, it all starts with simplicity, which is not a compromise but a treasure.
NEARLY INSTANT MISO SOUP WITH TOFU
COLD TOMATO SOUP WITH ROSEMARY
CLAM STEW WITH POTATOES AND PARSLEY PUREE
LEMONGRASS-GINGER SOUP WITH MUSHROOMS
PAN-ROASTED ASPARAGUS SOUP WITH TARRAGON
BLACK-EYED PEA SOUP WITH HAM AND GREENS
CARROT, SPINACH, AND RICE STEW
CURRIED SWEET POTATO SOUP WITH APRICOT
WHOLE-MEAL CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP, CHINESE STYLE
RICH CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP WITH GINGER
MAKES 4 SERVINGS
TIME: 15 MINUTES
“REAL” MISO SOUP
is a little more complicated than this quick version, which begins with dashi, a basic Japanese stock made with kelp (kombu) and flakes of dried bonito (a relative of tuna). Although dashi has definite character and is easy enough to make, it is a light stock, pretty much overpowered by the miso anyway. So I just whisk or blend a tablespoon of miso into a cup of water and put my energy into turning the soup into a meal, adding cubed tofu and a couple of vegetables at the last moment. If you don’t find tofu alluring, you might throw some shrimp or boneless chicken into the soup, where either will cook in a couple of minutes.
The only trick lies in getting the miso to dissolve properly, creating a smooth, almost creamy soup rather than a lumpy one. But this is in fact a snap: you just whisk or blend the miso with a few tablespoons of hot water before adding the rest of the liquid. Any cooking from that point on must be gentle to preserve the miso’s flavor and aroma.
⅓ cup dark or other miso (see Note)
½ pound tofu, cut into ½-inch cubes
¼ cup minced carrot
¼ cup minced scallion