Chervil

The best part of this dish is that the leaves here are intact, so they don’t get dressed in a conventional way—kind of a more elegant wedge salad.

An unexpected side dish that can be made hours ahead of a party; wait until the last minute to toss together.

Use the sharpest knife you can find when slicing the herbs to ensure you're not tearing them.

Heavy cream, alone or in conjunction with oil, can be added to vinegar and mustard, producing a vinaigrette that is excellent with delicately flavored salads. Because of its subtlety, creamy vinaigrette can be flavored easily with herbs such as mint, chives, or chervil. It is also excellent for showcasing a special vinegar.

This three-egg omelet is strewn with fresh herbs for the simplest of fillings. See the variations below for other ideas. If you’d like an omelet with a bit more heft, add another egg.

Brussels sprouts get a bad rap. People say they hate Brussels sprouts more than any other food, other than lima beans; in both cases, I believe the reason is that the vegetables are so rarely prepared well. We sear our Brussels sprouts so they get nicely browned while maintaining their unique texture and vibrant green color, then we toss them in sherry vinaigrette and top them with bread crumbs laced with prosciutto and herbs. Judging by the number of people who absolutely love these, I would say we have converted many a Brussels sprout hater with this preparation. The recipe for the prosciutto bread crumbs makes about 1 cup, which is more than you will need for this dish, but since it calls for such a variety of herbs, it seems silly to make a smaller portion and have so many herbs left over—better to have the bread crumbs left over. They are delicious sprinkled on any roasted vegetables. If you don’t have time to prepare the bread crumbs, the Brussels sprouts are still delicious without them.

One of the principles of Italian cooking—and maybe this is true of all of European kitchens—is not to be wasteful. Italian cooks find a use for every edible component of each animal or vegetable they cook. In the Italian spirit, I use all parts of the celery in this dish. I slice the celery ribs for the salad, and I use the leaves, so often discarded, both in a salad the cheese is served on and to make a celery-leaf pesto that gets spooned onto the cheese. The result is a bright, flavorful, and textural salad that is equally pretty and unexpected. We peel celery using a vegetable peeler anytime we are serving it raw; it takes only a few seconds and the celery is so much more tender with the fibrous strings removed. The pesto recipe makes 3/4 cup, which is more than you will need for this recipe, but it’s difficult to make pesto in a smaller quantity. Spoon the leftovers over grilled chicken, fish, or vegetables; use in place of basil pesto to make a tomato and mozzarella salad; or simply double the salad and the stracciatella in this recipe to make eight salads. Since stracciatella is hard to find, feel free to substitute burrata in this dish. I normally like to use only the pale green leaves from the celery hearts, but since this dish requires so many celery leaves, I call for you to use the darker green leaves for the pesto, reserving the light green leaves for the salad. If you were inclined to buy even more celery, then use the light green leaves for both parts of this recipe—and use the excess celery ribs as inspiration to make Basic Chicken Stock (page 27), Soffritto (page 28), Lentils Castellucciano (page 264), or any of our other recipes that begin with sautéed diced celery.

The easiest way to coddle eggs is to place them in egg coddlers, special containers with tight-fitting lids, but you can also use ramekins or custard cups covered tightly with foil. Fines herbes is a combination of chopped fresh herbs, most often those below, but sometimes including others such as marjoram or savory.

Use small red or white potatoes if fingerling potatoes are unavailable.

You can use tarragon in place of chervil.

Give me almost any combination of toppings, and I’ll turn them into a delicious savory tart. The formula is always the same: the crispy, buttery puff pastry crust; a creamy base of ricotta and crème fraîche; a layer of oozing, usually pungent cheese; and then, of course, the topping. In this case, I sauté an array of winter wild mushrooms until they’re tender, chewy, and still a little crisp. Since they seem to make everything taste better, I can’t resist tossing in a few handfuls of sweet young onions with their spicy green tops. As they all bake together, their flavors unite into this decadent and sophisticated “pizza.”

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.

Lucques had been open only a few months when we were asked to host an Alsatian wine dinner. Working on the menu reminded me of a road trip I had taken many years before through that northeastern region of France. With a corkscrew in the glove compartment and a stinky wheel of Muenster tucked away in the backseat, my boyfriend and I tooled around the picturesque Alsatian countryside. We lived for a few days on tall glasses of Hefeweizen—golden, unfiltered wheat beer always served with a slice of lemon—and on wedges of Flammeküche, warm, cheesy bacon-onion tarts. I made this version of that traditional tart for our wine dinner.