Winter

I associate chestnuts with winter scenes that while I live in Southern California exist only in my imagination: snuggling up by the fireplace while the snow falls lightly and chestnuts roast on that proverbial open fire. One Christmas Eve, after a few hot toddies and with visions of chestnuts dancing in my head, I revisited my family’s traditional stuffing, determined to make my winter chestnut obsession a reality. For me, the stuffing, not the turkey or roast beef, has always been the highlight of holiday feasts. In fact, when I was a kid, one of my big culinary promotions was when I finally got to take charge of the stuffing. For the first time, my mom gave me carte blanche with the spice cabinet. I pillaged her Spice Island jars and doctored up the Pepperidge Farm box mix, experimenting with how to make things taste better. Now, as a chef, I’ve learned that seasoning is one of the keys to making all things, stuffing included, taste their best. Good stuffing starts with a great loaf of bread, torn into croutons, tossed with a generous amount of olive oil, and baked until crispy on the outside and soft in the center. Then I add lots of onion, pancetta, rosemary, fennel, chile, thyme, lemon zest—and chestnuts, of course. The biggest mistake people make at home is underseasoning their stuffing. Don’t be afraid to spice it up with plenty of vegetables, herbs, and seasonings. And remember to taste as you go.

People think risotto is a super-rich dish, made with tons of butter. But when it is made properly, the richness comes from the starchy rice and the stock. To make perfect risotto, really pay attention to what’s happening in the pan. As the risotto cooks, stir it with a wooden spoon in rhythmic movements that go across the bottom and around the sides of the pan. The rice should be constantly bubbling, drinking up the liquid as it cooks.

Every winter, when the first blood oranges appear at the market, I’m as impressed as I was the first time I saw one, while visiting Rome my junior year abroad. One morning, at the local café where I had my daily cappuccino and pretended to read the paper, I heard a loud racket coming from behind me. When I turned and looked, I got my first glimpse of that blood-red juice spewing from the juicers lined up on the bar. I had to order a glass. When I got the bill, I was shocked by the steep price. But even back then, I knew it was something very special and worth every lira. This salad is my homage to those blood oranges that won my heart so many years ago. Layered with sweet dates, Parmesan, almonds, and a few leaves of peppery arugula, the blood-orange slices burst with sweet, tart juice. Because this salad has so few ingredients and nothing to “hide behind,” now is truly a time to seek out the very best ingredients. Once you’ve gathered your perfect components, the only difficult part is arranging them on the plate. Thoughtfully weave the ingredients together, layering them into “hills and valleys,” rather than piling them up into a “mountain.” Think of this as a tapestry, rather than a tossed salad.

This dish is the Italian equivalent of the French grand aïoli. In France, a colorful assortment of vegetable crudités is accompanied by a large bowl of garlicky homemade mayonnaise. In Italy, instead of dipping the vegetables into aïoli, they dunk them into a bowl of bagna cauda, a “warm bath” of garlic and anchovy simmering in butter and olive oil. In this dish, I toss my favorite winter vegetables with the bagna cauda and pair them with a meaty Australian bass, barramundi. Feel free to adapt the recipe to your location, season, and cravings. If you’re in the mood for asparagus or potatoes, add them to the mix. And if you can’t find barramundi, this dish is delicious when made with another bass, snapper, or halibut.

Of all winter squash, Kabocha holds a special place in my heart. Rich and sweet, its dense orange flesh is one of my favorite winter flavors. For this soup, instead of sautéing the squash and fennel, I roast them in the oven to bring out their natural sweetness. If you can’t find Kabocha, use another winter squash, such as butternut or Hubbard. The pumpkin seeds, or pepitas, are coated in sugar, paprika, cumin, cinnamon, and cayenne; I think of them as adult Halloween candy. Sprinkled over the top, they give this delicious winter soup a feisty coronation.

This invigorating dish is a refreshing change from the hearty comfort foods of winter. The herbs here aren’t relegated to the sidelines; tossed with arugula, they become the main attractions of this bright salad. Meyer lemons are diced with their peels on and combined with green olives, champagne vinegar, honey, and olive oil for a bracing sweet-tart salsa to accompany the grilled halibut.

This robust stew is best in late winter or early spring, when there’s still a lingering chill in the air. Tomatoes, olives, and red wine, hallmark flavors of the stew’s southern-French provenance, make up its flavorful saucy base. Traditionally, it’s made with a chuck roast, but I find that boneless short ribs yield a more succulent result. The tomatoes help thicken the sauce and add a deep sweetness. This time of year, rather than using mealy, out-of-season tomatoes, I opt for canned San Marzanos. If you can’t find San Marzanos, look for another brand of Italian canned tomatoes.

This version of the Ginger Smash is the original Employees Only seasonal cocktail. We set out to create a cocktail composed of ingredients that warm you up on a winter day. The result was so tasty and fresh in aroma that it was a “smash” from the start. It remains, to this day, one of our best sellers.

I could eat bowls and bowls of this. By blending a reduced cream mixture with a fresh one, this pasta tastes ultrarich and light at the same time. The best part of this dish: It’s incredibly fast.

I crave Greek salad year round, so in the winter, when tomatoes don’t taste great raw, I make it with roasted beets instead. This began as a home lunch, but I decided to try it out at some of my restaurants, too, and it’s turned out to be one of our most popular salads.

To get through the winter months, I rely on bright, in-season citrus like blood oranges. A nice, dry bubbly heightens their vibrant sweetness, as does orange-flavored liqueur. For the flavors to bind properly, you need to combine—but not stir—the ingredients before pouring into flutes. If you can’t find Crémant d’Alsace, my sparkling wine of choice, a dry cava will work as well.

A unique eggnog flavor seeps through this rich, creamy pie filling, and hints of nutmeg and brandy add a cozy, wintery warmth for good measure.

Thanks to Mrs. Brown, mother of longtime Mrs. Rowe’s employee Eric Brown, for this gently flavored pie recipe. It’s a testament to the Southern creative ability to use everything from the garden, not letting anything go to waste.

This festive dessert was created for a Hanukkah celebration. To make the design, place a star-shaped cookie cutter on a frosted cupcake, then fill in with vibrant blue nonpareils. You could, of course, modify this idea with other cookie cutter shapes—just make sure they’re no larger than three inches wide, so they’ll fit atop a cupcake.

Gobble, gobble! Gummy candies, marshmallows, and toasted coconut flakes make excellent facial features and feathers for tiny Thanksgiving “turkeys.” Coconut marshmallows are available at specialty stores and online; if you can’t find them, make your own: Coat marshmallows with buttercream and then dip them in ground, toasted coconut.

Count down to the new year with twelve cupcakes, each with a designated hour, arranged to suggest a clock. The hands of the clock are made from a clip-art design easily copied onto paper and cut out (see page 340). This clock has a timeless look thanks to the Roman numerals, but you can alter the style of the numbers as you please. You may also want to try your hand at piping a different letter of “Happy New Year” on another dozen cupcakes (or simply frost and serve alongside); in this case, you will need to make a full batch of buttercream.

This Yuletide variation on the popular Austrian linzertorte (page 236) features an innovative gingerbread crust surrounding a homemade raspberry-jam filling. Snowflake and dot shapes are cut out from the top; sprinkle the snowflake cutouts—and any others cut from dough scraps—with sugar and bake them to serve as cookies alongside.

In a season filled with supersweet treats of all sorts, this aptly named tart stands out for its mouth-puckering flavor. Serve it on Thanksgiving or Christmas—it’s equally suited to both holidays. To keep the crust from becoming soggy when the cranberries are added, brush lightly beaten egg white onto the partially baked shell.