Julia Child is one of my heroes. Along with James Beard. They made classic French cuisine accessible to the American public. Still, unless you’re a genuine Francophile, classic French cooking stuns most Americans. By that I mean the classic French dishes epitomized by such 19th century giants as Auguste Escoffier, and in the 20th century by Paul Bocuse and Fernand Point. These gastronomes took French cooking to its classic heights. But how many of us have the time or the inclination to prepare duck a’ l’orange or a beef Richelieu with foie gras (goose liver pate) and truffles (rare mushrooms found by pigs attracted to the thing)? This mystique has, in some cases, prevented us from actually preparing a classic French meal.

It’s like the fancy-dan wines with appellations and chateaus and hard-to-pronounced names. Fortunately, all French cuisine is not so arduous. The fabled country cooking of Brittany, for example, has great simplicity yet produces great dishes. Nothing can beat a basic grilled chicken (Poulet Grille) with a butter sauce. In the south of France you have the famed cassoulet, a mix of beans, pork, duck, lamb and everything in between. A hardy repast for hardy souls, and not fancy at all. Even classic French cuisine can be found at this level.

There are some classic French dishes that take no time at all and transfer you to heaven with flavor. When James Beard published his first cookbook in 1940 Hors d’Oeuvre and Canapes, one for the first recipes he included was mushrooms stuffed with Roquefort cheese, a very simple dish That’s right, to most Americans, stuffed mushrooms, at the time, were totally alien. The recipe that follows below is in that vein. It’s French, has a highfalutin French name, but its easy. Today, steak au poivre vert is cooked in firehouses between shifts. You wanna impress your friends with a classic French meal? Just whip this up. Add some pommes frites (French fries) and steamed vegetables, a nice Bordeaux wine, and you got it made. Especially for you young single guys and gals trying to impress someone of interest. Go at it, kiddies. They’ll be amazed at your dexterity with French cooking.

Steak au poivre vert calls for green peppercorns (vert means green in French). They can be found in almost any supermarket these days, in jars packed in brine or canned. If canned, just rinse and drain. If in brine, no need to rinse. If you can’t find or don’t want to use green peppercorns, regular black peppercorns can be used. In that case, the dish is just plain steak au poivre.

STEAK AU POIVRE VERT

2 tablespoons green peppercorn (either canned or packed in brine – see above)
1 1/2 pounds boneless beef round, top-round steak, or sirloin, 3/4-inch thick, trimmed of fat;
or 4 boneless shell steaks, about 10 ounces each
3 tablespoons butter or margarine
Salt to taste

1. Crush the peppercorns in a mortar with a pestle or place them in a plastic bag with a rolling pin. Moisten surface of steak lightly with water, and press pepper into both sides of meat with heel of hand and fingers.
2. Melt the butter in a large heavy frying pan or skillet over high heat (I prefer cast-iron). Add meat and quickly saute on both sides, turning once or twice. The outside should be browned, but the inside should be slightly pink and rare.
3. Season with salt, and serve sliced thinly against the grain.
Yield: 4 servings.

Note: If you want to fancify the dish even more, once the meat is done, remove to a warm platter, add another tablespoon of butter to the pan, add some chopped onions or shallots, and cook until golden. Add 1/2 cup dry white wine and cook until wine is reduced to a tablespoon or so. Add 1/2 cup heavy cream and cook about another minute. Then you can pour this sauce over the steak. Another variation is to use 2 tablespoons brandy or cognac and 1/2 cup beef bouillon in lie of the wine and cream. Either way, you can’t go wrong.

Mofongo. I love the word. Pronounced just like it’s spelled. Undoubtedly of African origin. Basic Puerto Rican mofongo a mixture of crushed plantains and fried pork crackling shaped into balls, similar to meatballs. Cuban mofongo differs in that the mixture is shaped into one large ball served in a bowl. Modern variations have the mofongo stuffed with beef, poultry, or seafood, especially lobster. It is delicious as an appetizer, side dish, or a meal on its own. And, yes, the recipe is from my first cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Perseus Books Group).

MOFONGO (PLANTAINS AND PORK CRACKLING)

5 green plantains
1/2 pound salted pork, washed and diced
3 cloves garlic, peeled
2 tablespoons olive oil
Vegetable oil for frying

1. Peel Plantains and cut into diagonal slices about 1-inch thick.
2. Place plantains and diced salted pork in a pot with water to cover. Let soak for 10 minutes.
3. Drain and wipe dry both plantains and salted pork.
4. Place salted pork in a hot skillet or frying pan (no extra oil is necessary). Stir-fry over high heat until pieces are browned and crisp (about 5 minutes) and put aside. This is known as the chicharron or pork crackling.
5. Heat vegetable oil in the same skillet and deep-fry plantains until golden. Drain well on paper towels.
6. Crush plantains and pork crackling together in a mortar. This may have to be done in batches depending on size of mortar. Place in a bowl and set aside.
7. Crush garlic cloves in the mortar. Blend in the olive oil.
8. Add garlic-oil seasoning to the plantains and crackling, and mix thoroughly.
9. Scoop up a tablespoon of the mixture and shape into a ball (about 2-inches in diameter, or larger if desired). Repeat until mix is used up.
10. Serve by itself or with your favorite sauce, or gravy.
Yield: 12 or more mofongo balls.

Last month I was one of the participants at the Ocean County Library Bookfest in Toms River, N.J., which featured gourmands and foodies extolling the virtues of our diverse culinary culture. At the event I was fortunate to meet a lovely couple, Ruben Castillo and Pattie Hernandez. Ms. Hernandez, like myself, is of Puerto Rican heritage. Mr. Castillo is Peruvian. And, among other things, I inquired as to Peruvian cooking, of which I know absolutely nothing—until Ruben set me straight on the art of Peruvian cuisine.

The cooking of Peru is becoming more known and renowned in this country. One of the things that fascinates me about this cuisine is its Japanese influence. Yes, Japanese. During the 19th and early 20th century many Japanese came to Peru. Just like the Chinese who migrated to this country to work in the railroads, the same thing occurred in Peru. One of Peru’s former Presidents, Alberto Fujimori, was of Japanese descent. And as happened in America, they left an imprint on Peruvian cooking.

As in other cuisines, there are traditional Peruvian classics such as cuy (roasted guinea pig), tiraditos (sashimi style ceviches comprised of marinated fish and seafood), and anticuchos (marinated beef-heart skewers). Haute Peruvian fare even has a name: novoandina (roughly, new Andean cooking).

Up to this point, the only thing I was familiar with in terms Peru, was its national drink, pisco, which I enjoy. Let me add that Ruben, who is a pretty good cook in his own right (as noted in the recipe given below) is also a performer. He has an outlet, The King Am I Productions, where you can get further information as to upcoming performance dates and venues (info@tkaiproductions.com).

Here is his recipe: Lomo Saltado—one of the best known and tasty traditional Peruvian dishes.

LOMO SALTADO

1 1/4 cups vegetable oil
2 1/4 pounds beef tenderloin, sliced into thin strips
3 red onions, peeled and cut into eight pieces
4 fresh yellow chili pepper (aji amarillo fresco), sliced into thin strips
4 medium tomatoes, cut into eights
2 tablespoons fresh chopped parsley
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
2 1/4 pounds potatoes, cut like French fries
Cooked rice (about 6-8 cups)

1. Heat 1/2 cup oil in a large skillet over high heat. Add beef and quickly saute until beef is seared and browned on all sides.
2. Remove beef from pan and transfer to a plate. Cover and set aside.
3. Return pan to medium-high heat and add 1 1/2 tablespoons oil. Add onions and saute until edges are seared and they begin to soften (about 2 minutes).
4. Add aji marillo, tomatoes, parsley, salt, pepper, soy sauce and vinegar. Saute until tomatoes have softened (about 2 minutes).
5. Add beef and toss gently. Note: if you want to add a kick, and a special taste, you can pour 1/4 cup pisco over the meat and ignite. Once the flames die down, cover and set aside.
6. Heat 3/4 cup oil in a large non-stick skillet over medium heat. Add potatoes and saute until browned and tender (about 15 minutes). Drain on paper towels.
7. Place cooked rice in the center of a serving dish. Place beef and French fries on each side, and sprinkle with parsley. Note: If you wan to fancify the dish, you can place the rice in a mold and unmold it onto the serving dish and then place the beef and French fries around it.
Yield: 8 servings

My wife and I spend the summers in Vermont. And, if there is something Vermonters love, it’s comfort food. You know, things like meat loaf, mashed potatoes, fried chicken, all that good stuff. So, you could say they were ahead of the curve, culinary-wise. For the longest time the prevailing winds were for intricate, arcane complex dishes. But it seems we’ve gone back to the foods of our youth and heritage, not fancy Frenchy-fied extravaganzas, but good ole down home cookin’. Even major restaurants are promoting “Comfort foods.” Maybe it’s a sign of the recession, I don’t know. But I do know one thing: one of the best comfort treats in the world is good old macaroni and cheese. The American classic. It’s a universal dish, favored by both picky kiddie eaters and their adult parents.

So, in honor of this lowly, working class marvel, below is what we consider the best macaroni and cheese we’ve ever tasted. Yes, that’s great praise indeed. It is the creation of Mrs. Sandra Gutzmann, of Crafstbury, Vermont, and who dishes out this gem at the Crafstbury Country Store. If you are ever in Vermont’s Northeast Kingdom , you must make a stop at the Country Store and order Sandy’s mac n’ cheese. It’s great take-out; you can munch it on a drive, or, as we do, take it home and feast.

Sandy was kind enough to give me her great recipe, and here it is.

SANDY GUTZMANN’S FAMOUS MACARONI AND CHEESE

1 pound macaroni
1 quart milk (either whole milk or 2 % milkfat)
1 pound sharp cheddar cheese, cubed
1/4 pound provolone, cubed
1/4 pound Swiss cheese, cubed
1 small onion, grated real fine
2 tablespoons flour mixed in 1/4 cup water (for thickener)
8 ounces of cream cheese
Salt and ground black pepper to taste
1 sleeve Ritz crackers, crumbled

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Cook macaroni in boiling salted water as per package instructions.
3. While macaroni is cooking, put milk in a medium saucepan and heat to a slow boil.
4. Add cheddar, provolone, Swiss cheese, and onion. Stir to mix. Once cheese is melted, add flour thickener and cream cheese. Stir till it’s all blended together, and add salt and pepper.
5. When macaroni is done, drain and place in a 9 x 13-inch baking pan (it can be a glass baking dish or other—I prefer using a large cast-iron skillet). Pour cheese sauce over macaroni; and sprinkle Ritz crackers over it.
6. Bake for 1/2 hour to 45 minutes, or until cheese starts to bubble and the sides and edges turn brown.
Yield: 8 servings.

There are certain foods that in this part of the world have a negative connotation. By that I mean such items as calves brains, deer (remember Bambi?), and snails. Into this category goes rabbit. I know individuals who, on pain of death, would not eat rabbit. Maybe it has to do with the pet thing. Like, “How can you eat the Easter Bunny?” Simple. Because the Easter Bunny tastes good.

Fortunately, the denizens of the Mediterranean countries have no such qualms. In Spain, Portugal, Italy, Greece, and Eastern Europe, rabbit is a prime staple. And, cooked well, it is something to relish. Paired with crusty bread, a good Pinot Noir or, even, beer, it is a delight.

You won’t find rabbit in your local supermarket. It is often carried in Asian or Caribbean markets, poultry markets, or you may order it from your local butcher. We get our rabbit from stores in New York’s Chinatown. Wherever you get it, the rabbit will come skinned and, they say, dressed for cooking. It is as easy to prepare as chicken, although it doesn’t taste like chicken. It has its own unique flavor, deep, smoky.

So, people, get over it. Enjoy something out of the ordinary. You won’t be disappointed.

The rabbit recipe that follows is from my cookbook, Puerto Rican Cuisine in America (Avalon Books). It’s for a Rabbit Fricassee—think of any stewed dish with savory ingredients, and you get the idea.

CONEJO EN FRICASE (Rabbit Fricassee)

1 rabbit, 2 1/2 to 3 pounds, cut into serving pieces

1 lemon, cut in half

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground black pepper

2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely minced

1/2 cup olive oil

1 packet Sazon Accent—the Goya brand has one with Culantro Y Achiote (Coriander & Annatto)

1/2 pound lean cured ham

10 stuffed Spanish olives

1 8-ounce can tomato sauce

2 bay leaves

1 cup dry red wine

1 6 1/2-ounce jar pimentos, drained and cut into 1/4-inch strips

2 pounds Maine or Idaho potatoes, peeled and cubed

1. Wash rabbit pieces under cold running water and pat dry. Place rabbit in a bowl and squeeze lemon over it. Set aside for 5 minutes, and drain.

2. Place rabbit pieces in a heavy kettle or Dutch oven and add salt, pepper, garlic and olive oil.

4. Add Sazon Accent, ham, olives, tomato sauce, bay leaf and 1/2 cup warm water.

5. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer on low heat, stirring occasionally, for 30 minutes.

6. Add wine, pimentos, potatoes plus another 1/4 cup water. Bring to a boil, cover and simmer on moderate heat until sauce has thickened and meat is tender (about 20 minutes).

7. Remove bay leaves and serve with steamed white rice or, better still, green boiled bananas (yes, we Puerto Ricans love green boiled bananas. It’s part of a dining mystique we call bianda— which includes root plants).

Yield: 6 servings.

There are certain foods that just grab you and never let go. Foods that are simple, quick and nutritious. I’m thinking of tuna fish out of the can, macaroni and cheese, and, of course, that old favorite: peanut butter and jelly. No one knows who was the first to combine these two ingredients between two slices of bread. Bread and jelly has been with us since time immemorial. Peanut butter wasn’t invented until 1890. But whoever thought up this combination , to me they deserve the honor and veneration of a saint.

I’ve been a fan of peanut butter and jelly since I was knee high to a tabletop. I survived the ordeal of Marine Corps Boot camp mainly due to copious helpings of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

The historical records state that the first written written reference to this snack was in 1901. By the 1930s commercial brands of peanut butter such as Peter Pan and Skippy had already been introduced. It was one of the top kid’s meal during the Depression. During World War II, G.I.’s were given rations of both peanut butter and jelly, and after the war sales of both products soared.

Today, according to the National Peanut Board, an the average kid eats 1,500 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before they graduate from high school. It’s understandable. What’s easier than to spread a glob of peanut butter and jelly on white bread? Fast, no mess (usually) and delicious. Add to that, peanut butter is a great source of protein.

Then there’s the old argument about what type of peanut butter is best. I prefer the chunky style, while my wife prefers creamy peanut butter. Really, it’s an innocuous argument—they’re both good. What I cannot understand are those people who cut off the crust from the sides of the bread. Where did that come from? It’s like having watercress sandwiches at some fancy afternoon tea. Don’t get me wrong. I like watercress sandwiches, and I’m a tea drinker. But bread without the crust? I don’t get it.

Friends, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to put up a peanut butter and jelly recipe. Children and adults have been doing this combo for years. But, coming from New York, there is something that I really enjoy (and which purists may frown upon)–I enjoy peanut butter and jelly on bagels (especially cinnamon-raisin).

Oh, by the way, in the United Kingdom, Canada and Australia, peanut butter and jelly is known as a “peanut butter and jam sandwich.” Whatever.