The guests will be as calm as you are. There’s no easier way to deflate a party by being nervous, which of course makes it even harder to be relaxed. You set the tone, and if you’re unflappable, so your guests will be. Speaking of which…
On drinking: With moderation and good timing, a drink or two can take the edge off. Sip while you cook, to give yourself a head start, but then cut it off. You want the right level of alcohol to relax, but not so much that you become incompetent (or, god forbid, incontinent). When guests arrive, everything will be jolly. Give them something immediately to put in their hands to soften your lead. Then, before you get sloppy and turn into a lousy conversationalist, pull back the reins. Put another way: Drink early, but not often.
On toasting: Let’s bring it back. Toasts are a delicate alchemy. They require a strange combination of humor, sincerity and unspoken permission from your audience. They’re hard. Which is why people respect a good one. You have to make them laugh, steer a wide berth around cliches, and remain earnest. The formula: begin with something polite, transition to something clever, and end with something true. Best bet is one you’ve spent enough time preparing that it seems effortless. But really, all that’s required is a simple and genuine thanks for showing up.
Adapted from The Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rogers*
- 1 3-pound boneless pork shoulder roast
- 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
- 1 tablespoon capers, roughly chopped
- 1 tablespoon lemon zest (no white pith), from 3-4 lemons
- 3 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
- 12 fresh sage leaves, crushed and coarsely chopped
- 2 sprigs fresh rosemary, leaves stripped and chopped
- 2 teaspoon fennel seeds, crushed
- 2 teaspoons black pepper
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 bulbs fennel
- 1/4 cup dry vermouth
- 5 cups water
- 1 cup polenta or cornmeal
- 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
- 3 tablespoons butter
- 1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese
*Possibly one of the best cookbooks in the world to learn from. Highest recommendation.
While the pork roasts, bring the water to boil in a large saucepan, then pour in the polenta in a slow stream while whisking to prevent clumping. Once it’s all added, add the salt and reduce heat to low, stirring often as it thickens and the cornmeal becomes creamy, 25-30 minutes. If it appears too dry and the cornmeal is not yet soft, add more water and continue cooking; you can always cook it longer to evaporate any excess water. Once soft, turn off the heat until ready to serve. To finish, reheat and stir in butter and Parmesan.
Meanwhile, halve the fennel lengthwise and cut out the core. Put the halves cut-side down and slice thinly crosswise. Toss with enough olive oil and salt to coat it nicely.
Once the pork has been in an hour, use tongs to flip it over and tuck the sliced fennel into the roasting pan around the porchetta, tossing it well in the roasting juices. Return the roast to the oven and continue cooking for another 1 to 1 1/2 hours, to an internal temperature of 145º F.
Remove the pork to a cutting board and keep it loosely covered in foil while it rests for at least 10 minutes (the meat will reabsorb the juices, ensuring it’s as moist as possible). Put the roasting pan on the stovetop (with the fennel still in it), pour or spoon off any excess fat, and turn the heat to high. Add the vermouth to the pan, using the liquid to scrape up any caramelized bits left from the pork in the roasting pan. Cook, stirring often, until the fennel is soft and caramelized and the vermouth has mostly evaporated.
Slice the pork and serve with the polenta, along with some of the caramelized fennel and rich pan juices. Finish with some of the fennel fronds that (ideally) came attached to the fennel bulb. Serve.
You’re a hard worker. Unfortunately for you, that means you don’t always give lunch its due. That, or you order something “fast” a little too often, a one-way track to needing bigger pants in a couple of years.
We get it; it’s tempting. You’ve got a good workflow going, and no time to waste on a leisurely lunch out of the office. But you need a bit of fuel to be doing your best work. But in the interests of adequate fuel (and your waistband) you should really think about whipping up something at home.
Here, then, is a dish that’s quick to prepare and easy on the pocketbook. This is one that will take a slight amount of foresight—which is fine, because a man should know how to plan ahead.
I’ve worked enough days in my life, from my desk at home to mind-numbing office temp gigs, to have developed some theories on lunch. To me, the working lunch is a series of balances: it should be fast, yet not fast-food; it should be a break from work, but not so indulgent you can’t get moving again; it should be fulfilling, but not a cause of sluggishness. Lunch should work for you, but so often it’s the other way around.
Here’s the idea: Work ahead, do a little bit of planning, and go vegetarian. And above all keep in mind: Healthy doesn’t have to mean it tastes like cardboard.
Start with a hearty grain, ideally with a high protein content—like farro, brown rice, or quinoa—and pair it with a vegetable, a touch of olive oil for slickness, and some kind of dressing. Sometimes just lemon juice works. Other times I rely on my stash of homemade vinaigrette that keeps for weeks in the fridge (speaking of, you should never buy salad dressing again after learning that recipe). But I’m most proud of my secret two-punch you see here: soft goat cheese and homemade pesto. It will blow your mind.
A few tips that make this a breeze:
- Cook all the grain at once on Sunday, and stock up your fridge with a bunch of vegetables for the week. This recipe uses zucchini, but anything will work. Whatever you choose, it can be sauteed or roasted with salt, pepper, and garlic.
- Make tons of pesto ahead of time and freeze it in ice cube trays. It’ll keep for at least a few months and be on hand whenever you need to whip it out (for tossing with hot pasta, for stirring into a soup, or spreading on some toast for a snack).
- Have goat cheese in the fridge. It stays fresh for a while.
Delicious, nutritious lunch is never more than ten minutes away. Now get back to work.
- 1/4 pound farro
- 2 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 clove garlic, peeled and roughly chopped
- 2 zucchini
- 1 ounce fresh goat cheese, crumbled
- 3 tablespoons pesto (recipe follows)
- In a pot large enough to comfortably hold it, cover the farro (or other grain) with cold water. Bring to a boil and season the water with salt; it should be pleasantly briny but not overly salty. Cook until tender but still chewy, 20-30 minutes. Drain well.
- While the farro is cooking, halve the zucchini lengthwise and use a spoon to scrape out the seeds. Cut into half-moons.
- Heat the olive oil in a medium skillet until it shimmers. Add the zucchini pieces and garlic and sauté, stirring often, until the garlic is golden and the zucchini is tender but not mushy, 3-5 minutes.
- In a bowl, combine the hot farro, pesto, half the goat cheese, and the zucchini. Toss to combine—the heat of the farro should gently melt the goat cheese. Top with the remaining goat cheese and eat.