I tasted this sauce for the first time in Normandy, France. It was served over Dover sole (page 70) and after I’d eaten it I made my way directly to the tiny kitchen. There the chef rattled off the recipe in rapid French while I frantically scribbled whatever I could understand and asked him questions in my pigeon French. I did, at least, grasp that success depends on using very cold Normandy or European butter (page 25)—believe me, I’ve tried it with ordinary supermarket butter and it’s not at all the same. This is as good over delicate flat fish as it is over richer salmon.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Among the top tier of sauces is Indonesian satay sauce, because it is the embodiment of joy and life. In fact, this sauce is also trustworthy and highly respectful of whatever it comes into contact with—perhaps it is, in fact, the perfect friend?
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
I should address the awkward truth that I don’t use butter here but cream instead. You could, if you’re a stickler for tradition (and not a heretic like me), add a big slab of butter to the finished curry.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.
Put these out at a gathering, and we guarantee you’ll be hearing rave reviews for a long time.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.