Winter

Boiled potatoes and sour cream are a classic Eastern European combination, but this recipe takes the idea a step further to produce a rich, full-flavored main course that is especially great in winter. Serve with a light salad and rice or crisp bread.

A Norman recipe, easily identified with the region because of the combination of dairy and meat. It may sound overly rich, but pork is so lean these days that the added fat is welcome, and the taste is incredible. A wonderful dish for midwinter; serve it with simple boiled potatoes or rice and a steamed vegetable. Other cuts of meat you can use here: veal chops or bone-in chicken breasts.

Although this stew has much in common with the humble American beef stew, it is legitimately Japanese and wonderfully flavored with soy, ginger, mirin (the Japanese sweet cooking wine, for which sugar or honey is an adequate substitute), winter squash, and, perhaps best of all, the peel and juice of a lemon. The combination is one of simple and delicious counterpoints that make this a great stew. Ambitious cooks may want to include dashi, the quickly made stock that is one of the most fundamental flavors of Japanese cooking, but the stew is great when made with chicken stock or, for that matter, water. Other cuts of meat you can use here: short ribs (which will require longer cooking time), bone-in chicken thighs (which will cook more quickly), veal shoulder or round.

Horseradish, as I’ve noted elsewhere, loses most of its potency when heated. It also retains its flavor, making it a great accompaniment to potatoes in this simple gratin. The trick is finding fresh horseradish—and then peeling and slicing it (some people wear goggles, not a terrible idea). If none of this appeals to you, just make the gratin with potatoes—it’s a beaut either way. Serve with roast chicken or meat. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: any root vegetable or tuber—carrots, parsnips, or turnips, for example—will work fine prepared in this style, alone or in combination.

The combination of sauerkraut, juniper, and fruity wine is a divine one. You might as well use a German wine to be completely consistent. Best with pork, like Baeckoffe (page 399).

As good warm as hot, this is a nice homey casserole to go with a roast or other dish in the spirit of Sunday dinner. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: rutabagas are not only traditional but wonderful, but other turnips are great too, as are carrots, potatoes, parsnips, and celeriac (celery root).

There is no easier way to make a humble veg seem elegant than glazing it in this manner; turnips become royal enough to serve with any dish, but I like them best with roast chicken or beef. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: carrots, radishes, onions, beets, parsnips, or other root vegetables.

Most squash preparations are fairly bland, sweet, even insipid, but not this one, a lovely winter stew that can be a centerpiece for vegetarians (or for meat eaters with the addition of a few cubes of boneless chicken). A good rice pilaf (page 513) would suit this fine. It would also be at home alongside plain grilled steak. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Semi-ripe plantains, potatoes, or sweet potatoes.

Scandinavia has more food celebrations than any place I’ve ever been, with a special food for every occasion. On St. Lucia Day—twelve days before Christmas—it’s almost imperative to eat a couple of these delicious buns, but most people would happily wolf them down any other day of the year as well. Great for breakfast or as a midmorning or afternoon snack.

If you can’t find pizzocheri, a buckwheat pasta cut like fettuccine, you have two choices: make it yourself (page 542) or substitute any fettuccinelike pasta. If you can’t find Taleggio (already a compromise, because when I had this dish it was made with a local Alpine cheese whose name exists only in dialect), use fontina (real fontina, if you can find it, from the Valle d’Aosta), or another fairly strong but not too hard or harsh cheese.

Interestingly, though this is usually and correctly associated with Eastern Europe, I had it first in northeastern Italy. That’s not entirely surprising, because the Alto Adige region of Italy, also known as the Tyrol, was part of Austria until after World War I. Often thickened with rice, this soup can also be used as a sauce for pasta; see the variation.

An unusual and unexpected variation on the traditional beef-and-vegetable stew, differing largely in its inclusion of beets, which deliver their distinctive sweetness and color. In fact it’s close to the vegetarian version of borscht (page 116), especially if you add the optional sour cream. If you use chuck or brisket here, the cooking time will be longer but the stew will taste better; if you’re in a hurry, use tenderloin—you’ll save time but lose flavor.

This classic Russian soup is rich and full of complex flavors. While there are probably as many versions as there are families, the key ingredient is always sauerkraut. (It’s best served with a whole head of soured cabbage, but you’re going to have trouble finding that; just stick with good sauerkraut, sold in bulk or in plastic packages, which contains nothing but cabbage and salt.) This is one of those soups that pretty much requires good stock, and it’s nice to make it especially for this dish, because the beef is a good addition. If you don’t have time (or you’re a vegetarian), use premade stock or make a quick vegetable stock with the bay leaf, parsley, carrots, onions, and celery.

Jota, often referred to as Slovenia’s national dish, is also found throughout Friuli, in extreme northeastern Italy, and especially in the area around Trieste. It’s a good one-dish meal, not unlike a soupy version of cassoulet. The addition of sauerkraut, however, cuts through the rich pork and the beans, and while it might not exactly “lighten” the dish, it makes it somewhat less dense. Buy “pure” sauerkraut—just cabbage and salt—packed in plastic bags or a barrel. Serve with good crusty bread.

Throughout the northern Mediterranean littoral, chestnuts not only grow on trees; they fall to the ground each autumn and are, for many people, a free crop. (They once did the same on this continent, but a blight wiped them out.) The first fall I visited northern Italy, I saw them drop and realized there were more than anyone could possibly eat. As a result, they are used in a much wider array of dishes there than they are here. This is a rich soup, one that can be made in a matter of minutes with cooked, frozen, or even canned chestnuts, and the results are inevitably good. Add a little splash of port just before serving to give this a bit of a kick.

A substantial soup (if you use chicken stock instead of water, it will be even more so) and a perfect winter lunch or a solid dinner when teamed with a light grilled dish, like Grilled Swordfish Rémoulade (page 256) or “Grilled” Mackerel with Garlic and Rosemary (page 266). Remember, though, that chickpeas can take a long time to cook, so if you have any inkling you’re going to make this soup, cook the chickpeas in advance. (Canned chickpeas are also good, or you can use lentils for speed; see the variation.) This soup can be refrigerated for a few days and reheated before serving, but it’s best to add the pasta at the last minute.

Originally an Indian vegetable soup, this became popular among British colonialists, who added chicken to the mix. I like it better in something approaching its original form, but see the variations for more substantial versions.

If you think sauerkraut is only for hot dogs or choucroute garni (page 404), think again. Here’s a vegetable stew from Poland that demonstrates quite nicely that sauerkraut has roles beyond garnishing meat. Buy sauerkraut from packages or barrels, not cans, and make sure it contains just cabbage and salt. That’s all it takes.

When my grandmother was a girl, this was a staple winter dish, and it still is in Poland and much of the rest of Eastern Europe. You might think of porcini as Italian or French, but good dried mushrooms, including porcini, come out of Poland to this day.

Few things are more uplifting in the dead of winter than a bowl of this bright orange soup, which is equally good served cold in the summer. Don’t overcook the carrots or you’ll lose the beautiful color. This soup can be made ahead of time and refrigerated, then reheated if necessary.