If you try one recipe from this blog, let it be this Provencal Seafood Stew. It’s a wonder of elegant simplicity. The deep fragrance and perfectly balanced flavors deliver the goods with every mouthful. So frenchy and fabulous is this stew that one bite magically transports me to a sidewalk table at a French bistro, where my understated outfit is offset by the perfect scarf, earrings, and heels. (I have a rich fantasy life. I’ve never had a talent for accessorizing. How do Parisian women do it?)

Not only is this soup drop-dead delicious, it’s also a blue-ribbon work-night recipe. By this I mean your soup is done fifteen minutes from the time you start chopping the onion. I do not exaggerate. The stew is sort of a simple riff on bouillabaisse. (Bouillabaisse purists can just relax. I’m not saying it IS bouillabaisse, I’m just saying it borrows some of the complicated flavors to truly excellent effect.)

The only remotely fussy thing about this recipe is that it calls for two things you may not have on hand. Since I discovered this recipe many years ago, I am never without them. They keep. One is saffron. (It’s cheap at Trader Joe’s.) The other is Pernod, which is an anise-flavored liqueur.

Pernod is the key ingredient that elevates this soup into something really special. If you buy Pernod and don’t like this soup, I will personally refund your money. I’m kidding. But I am truly confident that you won’t regret your purchase, even if you’re not a fan of anise, and even if it seems excessive to buy a whole bottle of booze when the recipe calls for two tablespoons. This is one of those times in life when you must make a leap of faith. Trust me. Your taste buds will thank you. Your loved ones will thank you. Your neighbor who gets a whiff of the soup out the kitchen window will thank you.

I think this stew is best served with a baguette, a flowery French white wine, and a soft, smelly French cheese. And maybe a suave French waiter, if you’ve got one of those handy. You can substitute any kind of fish and shellfish you like. Mussels are a nice addition.

PROVENCAL SEAFOOD STEW – serves four
adapted from a recipe in Cuisine Rapide by Pierre Franey

3 tablespoons olive oil
½ cup finely chopped onion
½ cup finely chopped celery
2 teaspoons minced garlic
½ teaspoon saffron threads, crumbled
1 cup dry white wine
3 cups canned diced tomatoes, with their juice
½ teaspoon dried thyme
½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 bay leaf
¾ pound snapper or other fish filet, cut into one-inch cubes
½ pound sea scallops, quartered or bay scallops, whole
2 tablespoons Pernod (or Ricard)
¼ cup chopped parsley
salt and pepper to taste

Heat olive oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion, celery, garlic and saffron and sauté for about three minutes.

Add wine, tomatoes, thyme, pepper flakes, and bay leaf. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a gentle simmer and cook for five minutes.

Add seafood. Cover and cook for five minutes.

Add Pernod and parsley. Add salt and pepper to taste.

It was cool and rainy yesterday, when I decided I’d make chicken pozole today. I pictured cold rain slapping the roof, and a steamy kitchen, redolent with the soothing smell of garlic, chiles, and chicken. I didn’t consult the forecast. The steamy and redolent kitchen part was accurate, but it’s sunny and 85 degrees today. A crunchy salad and an iced drink would suffice. But never mind. Once the idea of chicken pozole got a hold of me, it didn’t loosen its grip just because the weather didn’t follow the script.

Pozole traditionally stars pork, not chicken. I think the authentic variety involves scary pig parts I don’t typically have on hand. I’m not sure. I’m not picky about authenticity. No sense getting inhibited by accuracy, right? Cooking is an art, not a science. At least, that’s whay I tell myself, because it makes my imprecision sound kind of virtuous.

The garnishes are key here. Offer lots. Pile them on. Cabbage and radishes bring crunch and zing. Avocado adds silky richness. The cilantro chimes in with some funk, and the lime shines a little light on the whole shebang. It’s actually a darn good salad in its own right, lively with textures and taste. But this stew and its toppings are the yin and the yang. They need each other. They love each other. It would be wrong to keep them apart.

Now or later, hot day or cold, you should try this pozole. There’s some chopping and shredding, yes. But go on. It won’t take long. You’ll understand when that first spoonful unfolds its flavors. The heat is balanced by the earthy depth of hominy and toasted pumpkin seeds.  The stew lends a sturdy backdrop to the crisp garnishes. It would make great medicine for a friend with a cold. It offers all the salty comfort of chicken soup, along with a serious dose of flavor to keep things interesting. It seems made to order for a chilly gray day. I’ll have to get back to you on that. For now I can attest that it brought some extra sizzle to this already hot and sunny day.

P.S. You can feed this to people who don’t eat gluten, or eggs, or dairy, or soy. I did. I was kind of proud of myself for coming up with a recipe that met all those requirements. Little did I realize it would it would be so tasty I would feel compelled to shout it from the cyber-rooftops.

GREEN POZOLE WITH CHICKEN – adapted from this recipe in Gourmet magazine
makes four hearty servings

1/3 cup roasted, salted pumpkin seeds
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 medium white onion, chopped
4 garlic cloves, chopped
1 ½ jalapenos, seeded and chopped
2 teaspoons salt
1 pound tomatillos, husked and chopped (If you don’t have fresh, you can buy canned in the Mexican food section of many grocery stores.)
¾ cup fresh cilantro leaves
1 teaspoon dried oregano
3 cups low-sodium chicken broth
2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs
2 15-ounce cans white hominy, rinsed and drained

Grind pumpkin seeds finely in food processor or spice grinder. Set aside.

In a large stock pot over medium-high heat, heat three tablespoons of oil. Sauté onion, garlic, and jalapenos until soft, three to five minutes.

Puree the sautéed vegetables, salt, oregano, tomatillos, and cilantro in food processor. Return the puree to the stock pot.

Cook on medium heat, stirring frequently, until thickened, about ten minutes.

Add chicken broth and raw chicken. Bring to a boil, then turn down to a low simmer. After 15 minutes, remove the chicken pieces using tongs and place them in a bowl. When it’s cool enough to handle, shred the chicken meat, discarding any big blobs of fat or gristle you wouldn’t want to find in your mouth.

Add hominy and ground pumpkin seeds to the pot. Add the shredded chicken and its accumulated juices. Simmer on low heat for about 20 more minutes.

Serve with shredded cabbage, chopped radish, diced avocado, chopped cilantro, lime wedges, and whatever else your heart desires.