This is a match made in heaven, combining two things that I love: cornbread and waffles! The buttermilk gives the texture a rich and creamy interior while the addition of the cornmeal produces a nice crispiness on the outside. Look for a stone-milled cornmeal that is high quality and the flavor will come through really nicely.

Now that school is back in session, make this your weekend treat with the family and the kids will love you for it.

Buttermilk Cornbread Waffles with Blueberries

6 large waffles

Ingredients

• 1 cup yellow cornmeal

• 1 cup all-purpose flour

• 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

• 2 teaspoons baking powder

• 1/2 teaspoon baking soda

• 1/2 teaspoon Morton kosher salt

• 2 cups buttermilk

• 2 large eggs

• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted and lightly cooled

• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

• Zest of 1/2 lemon

• 1 1/2 cups fresh blueberries, plus more for serving (optional)

• 1 tablespoon neutral oil or melted butter, for greasing the waffle iron

Steps

1. Preheat your waffle iron to medium-high heat according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the cornmeal, all-purpose flour, granulated sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt until evenly combined.

3. In a separate bowl, whisk together the buttermilk, eggs, melted butter, vanilla extract, and lemon zest until smooth.

4. Combine batter: Pour the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients and stir just until combined. A few lumps are fine. Overmixing will make the waffles tough. Let the batter rest for 5 minutes so the cornmeal can soften slightly.

5. Fold in blueberries, if using, being careful not to crush them and streak the batter purple.

6. Brush the waffle iron with a tablespoon of neutral oil or melted butter.

7. Ladle batter onto the hot iron (amount depends on size of waffle maker) and cook until deep golden brown and crisp, about 5 minutes.

8. Repeat with remaining batter, re-greasing the iron as needed.

9. Serve warm topped with extra fresh blueberries, a pat of butter, and warm maple syrup.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

Every time I enter Chef Taralyn Stephens’s culinary lab at the New Orleans Career Center to teach a class, I’m transported back to my childhood, back to when I was in the same shoes as these students… knowing I loved to cook, but not yet sure if I wanted to commit to culinary school and a life in the kitchen. It was an educational opportunity just like this one that set the tone for the rest of my career as a chef.

My high school home economics teacher at Harriton High, Donna Barnett, saw how much I needed a program like this and introduced me to my culinary instructor, Seth Schram, at Central Montco Technical School outside of Philadelphia. Today, the three of us work together through the Shaya Barnett Foundation to support organizations like Chef Taralyn’s class at the New Orleans Career Center.

We gathered around the stainless steel work table and I spoke to the culinary students on how to build the foundation of balanced taste. We touched on salt, fat, acid, heat, and umami. The students tasted a variety of combinations, each representing a different pillar of flavor and we talked about how as a chef you can take these basic pillars and build onto them with your creativity. Capers and olives made an appearance in the salt category, yogurt, vinegar and lemon in the sour and tahini and olive oil in fat. We all ate well and let the flavors dance around our palettes.

Over the years, we’ve donated to the program through a fundraiser we host at Saba called “A Future on Every Plate.” We have another one coming up on September 28th, and we’d love to see you there!

You can find more information and tickets to join us right here: A Future On Every Plate.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

It’s late summer, which means the farmers markets in Louisiana are overflowing with okra, that beautiful little vegetable that never gets the credit it deserves in my opinion. While I love the classic move of stewing it in tomato sauce or adding it to my gumbo recipe, charring it under the broiler is one of my favorite tricks. It’s simple, and it delivers more flavor than almost any other method I know. That slimy texture that scares people off? Gone. In its place: a soft, tender bite with a deep flavor.

These are a great finger food, and in my experience people stand over the counter and pick at them until they’re gone.

One tip: don’t skimp on the balsamic. You don’t need to splurge on a 25-year-old bottle, but skip the bottom-shelf stuff too. My go-to is Giusti, from Modena. Grab the recipe below.

Charred Okra

Yield: 4 portions

Ingredients

• 1 pound okra

• 2 tablespoons avocado oil

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

• 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

• 1/2 teaspoon crushed spicy pepper

Method

1. Turn on the oven broiler. Toss okra with avocado oil, salt, and black pepper, and spread on a baking sheet.

2. Place under the broiler and cook until charred on one side (about 5 minutes).

3. Toss the okra and continue broiling until evenly charred on all sides (about 5 more minutes).

4. Drizzle with good-quality balsamic vinegar and olive oil, and finish with crushed spicy pepper.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

There’s spaghetti for dinner, and then there’s this: perfectly al dente pasta wrapped in a luscious, balanced tomato chili butter that clings to every strand. It might look like a simple bowl of spaghetti with tomato sauce, but the flavor and texture here are truly nonna in a moomoo-level.

A few small moves make all the difference. Grate the garlic on a microplane so it melts straight into the sauce instead of sitting in chunky bites. Finish the pasta directly in the sauce with a splash of starchy pasta water; that’s what makes everything emulsify into a glossy, clingy coating instead of a puddle at the bottom of the bowl. Stir in the Parmigiano Reggiano only after you’ve turned off the heat, so it melts into something silky and creamy rather than grainy.

Using fresh tomatoes and removing the skins is another great tip that often gets overlooked. If your tomatoes are starting to soften to the point where you can’t really slice them without all their juices spilling everywhere, this is the perfect use for them. The skin removes very easily with a little steam and a pair of tongs.

The gentle heat from the chili and the grassy, peppery bite of good extra virgin olive oil round it all out with a depth you don’t expect from something this simple. Master these tips, and you’ll be talking with your hands and speaking in an Italian accent before the pot’s even drained.

Spaghetti with Basil, Chili, and Tomato Butter

Yield: 4 portions

Ingredients

• 16 ounces dry spaghetti

• 3 quarts water, for boiling

• 1 tablespoon salt, for pasta water

• 2 large ripe tomatoes, cored and cut into quarters

• 3 tablespoons butter

• 2 tablespoons olive oil, divided

• 2 garlic cloves, grated

• 2 small fresh spicy chilies, divided

• 12 fresh basil leaves

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1/2 cup Parmigiano Reggiano, grated

Method

1. Bring water to a boil and add salt. Add the pasta and cook for 8-10 minutes or 1 minute less than package instructions say. Drain and reserve 1/2 cup of the pasta water.

2. Heat half the olive oil in a large pan. Add tomato wedges, cut side down and cover. Let steam until skins loosen (about 2 minutes); remove and discard skins.

3. Add garlic, crushed chili, basil, and salt to the pan. Let cook for 30 seconds in the hot oil. Crush the tomatoes with the back of a fork until roughly chopped. Ladle in about ½ cup of pasta water and bring to a simmer. Let it reduce for about 2 minutes.

4. Transfer spaghetti to the saucepan, ladling in more pasta water as needed to coat. Toss well and let sauce reduce to coat the pasta while gently tossing.

5. Finish the sauce with the remaining butter, olive oil and parmigiano Reggiano then garnish with more pepper and basil leaves.
   
   Note: Save extra pasta water. It helps loosen and emulsify the sauce as you toss in the spaghetti.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

Baba ganoush has been a staple on our menus for years, and this is the quick, at-home version I love serving on toast. It’s a little rustic, very pretty, and it comes together fast enough to make you look like a total superstar in front of friends and family.

The magic is in the fire. As the eggplant chars over the flame, its flesh turns smoky and silky, the flavor deepening with every minute it spends over the heat. Don't stress about getting every bit of skin off once it's done. The skin peels away easily, but leaving a few charred bits behind actually adds a nice layer of texture and depth to the finished spread. And while that grate is still hot, throw your bread right on it too. A quick toast there picks up the same smoky char and ties the whole dish together.

Pine nuts add crunch and a beautiful nutty flavor and the Aleppo pepper gives a nice tone of heat which keeps the flavors dancing on your palette. Don't skip on the olive oil because it gives the dish the peppery and grassy backbone that takes it over the edge.

Quick Baba Ghanoush

Ingredients

• 6 - 8 fairy tale eggplants

• 3 tablespoons tahini

• 2 garlic cloves, grated

• 2 tablespoons lemon juice

• 1/4 cup plain yogurt

• 1/2 teaspoon salt

• 1/4 teaspoon Tabasco

• 2 tablespoons parsley, chopped

• 1 tablespoon sliced chives

• 4 slices sourdough toast, for serving

• 4 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil

Garnish

• 2 tablespoons pine nuts

• 2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil

• 1/2 teaspoon Aleppo pepper

• 1 teaspoon lemon zest

• 2 Hungarian wax peppers, sliced, optional

Method

1. Char the fairy tale eggplants directly on a grate over an open flame, turning occasionally, until the skins are blackened and the flesh is fully soft (about 6-12 minutes depending on their size and thickness).

2. Let the eggplant cool slightly, then peel off most of the skin and roughly chop. Mix with the tahini, grated garlic, lemon juice, yogurt, salt, Tabasco, parsley, and chives until combined into a spreadable consistency.

3. Rub the bread slices with a teaspoon each of extra virgin olive oil. Toast over the grate used to cook the eggplants for 30 seconds or so on one side.

4. Spread your baba ganoush generously over the toast. Garnish with pine nuts, parsley, olive oil, Aleppo pepper, lemon zest and Hungarian peppers.

   
   Note: Adjust Tabasco and Aleppo pepper to taste. Start light and build up the heat.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

I’m beyond words seeing this important work come to life and into my hands in its physical form. Bringing Memories of a Good Meal to this point has been one of the most rewarding and challenging experiences of my life.

Opening the box and laying eyes on the cover for the first time is like trying to describe a religious experience. June Hersh and I worked for several years to bring these stories of food, war, and survival to life in a way we hope will inspire, educate, and enlighten anyone who turns the pages. We hope this book encourages its readers to open their refrigerators while opening their hearts to humanity and its storied past, present, and future.

The photography by Denny Culbert is brilliant, and the recipes are created to make it possible for anyone to follow along and cook like you are a well-trained chef. I can’t thank enough all the people who helped bring this to life. I eagerly await for the day you’re holding this book in your own hands, and would love for you to be one of the first to receive it by pre-ordering your copy.

If you want a further look into the contents of Memories of a Good Meal, check out the last few posts on my Substack, where I’ve given previews of several of the recipes and accompanying stories.

Thank you for always being here and for the support. The community of people who love our restaurants, recipes, and, hopefully, this newest book, is the reason my team and I do it all.

Memories of a Good Meal will be hitting shelves in just a few months! This book is a collection of stories from survivors of WWII. The recipes included are inspired by the people, places, and meals that have shaped the context of the writing and our experiences getting to know each of the survivors over the years. It’s about teaching the lessons and sharing the wisdom we learned along the journey.

If you’ve been meaning to pre-order a copy, I’d be so grateful if you’d do so now at the link below. Pre-orders have an outsized impact on a book’s success, and every single one helps. More personally, they tell publishers that there are readers who still care about the impact this history should have on future generations. Thank you for following along on this journey. I can’t wait to share more of the book with you in the weeks ahead.

Pre-Order Your Copy

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

There's a moment that happened almost every time June and I sat down with a survivor while researching stories for our upcoming book, Memories of a Good Meal, and it happened again with Celina Hecht. We were in her Upper West Side apartment, surrounded by family photographs, and she was telling us about a farm at the edge of a Polish forest where she and her twin sister spent three years hidden by a farmer. They were hiding because they were Jewish and the Nazis would kill them if they found them.

Somewhere in the middle of describing the terror of those years, her voice shifted. It got lighter. She started talking about her time foraging in the woods picking wild blueberries with the other village women and children, and how she and her sister would eat most of the berries on the walk home. That was the moment the story of survival showed us a window into a smiling child among the tall pines with purple-stained fingers.

This bowl of chilled blueberry soup tells the story of Celina, who shared with us that she doesn't like to dwell on the bad times, she likes to remember the good ones, and the good ones were eating wild blueberries with her sister. I look forward to you learning more about Celina's story and the recipes that we created inspired by her childhood moments, both happy and sad.

Memories of a Good Meal will be hitting shelves in just a few months! This book is a collection of stories from survivors of WWII. The recipes included are inspired by the people, places, and meals that have shaped the context of the writing and our experiences getting to know each of the survivors over the years. It’s about teaching the lessons and sharing the wisdom we learned along the journey.

If you’ve been meaning to pre-order a copy, I’d be so grateful if you’d do so now at the link below. Pre-orders have an outsized impact on a book’s success, and every single one helps. More personally, they tell publishers that there are readers who still care about the impact this history should have on future generations. Thank you for following along on this journey. I can’t wait to share more of the book with you in the weeks ahead.

Pre-Order Your Copy

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

While researching stories of survival and resilience during World War II through the lens of food, my co-author June Hersh and I came across a gentleman named John Kinsel. John’s heroism was matched only by his devotion to the culinary traditions of his people. A true lover of food, John used that passion practically, teaching his fellow soldiers how to live off the land and stars while stationed on Guadalcanal.

When we spent the day with him on the Navajo Reservation, he was 106 years old, and his memories were vivid and generous. He shared stories of favorite foods, of resourcefulness, and of a people who knew how to feed themselves from the earth beneath their feet.

The land John grew up on provided many culinary resources. Sheep and goats meant an abundance of dairy and meat. Pumpkin was a staple crop, which they used every part of. Wild juniper trees scattered across the desert offered their fragrant berries.

These are the ingredients that came together to inspire this dish. It’s something to snack on as you learn about the extraordinary role the Navajo people played in the war, creating an unbreakable code that gave the United States military a decisive edge in the Pacific theater.

Memories of a Good Meal will be hitting shelves in just a few months! This book is a collection of stories from survivors of WWII. The recipes included are inspired by the people, places, and meals that have shaped the context of the writing and our experiences getting to know each of the survivors over the years. It’s about teaching the lessons and sharing the wisdom we learned along the journey.

If you’ve been meaning to pre-order a copy, I’d be so grateful if you’d do so now at the link below. Pre-orders have an outsized impact on a book’s success, and every single one helps. More personally, they tell publishers that there are readers who still care about the impact this history should have on future generations. Thank you for following along on this journey. I can’t wait to share more of the book with you in the weeks ahead.

Pre-Order Your Copy

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

There’s a recipe in my upcoming book, Memories of a Good Meal, that took me a long time to figure out how to write about. It’s called Weenie Royale. The name sounds like a joke, and the first time you hear it, you’ll probably laugh. But the story behind it is one of the most powerful things I’ve come across while working on this book, and is exactly why we wanted to write Memories of a Good Meal in the first place. A way to tell how the evolution of a dish correlated with a moment in time illuminated by the chaos of war.

During World War II, Japanese Americans incarcerated at Manzanar were fed largely on government surplus. Canned goods, processed meats, the kind of shelf-stable rations that were cheap and easy to ship. Hot dogs, Corned beef hash and Spam were considered center of the plate proteins. Ketchup, soy sauce, mayonnaise and other condiments filled the pantries of the mess halls to add spice to bland canvases. Not exactly the building blocks of Japenese cuisine.

The camp cooks did what cooks always do: they adapted with the resources they had on hand and did the best they could to get food on the table. Sliced hot dogs were stir fried with eggs, onions and soy sauce and folded into rice, a dish the kids loved and the adults found humiliating. They called it Weenie Royale, and the recipe didn’t disappear when the camps closed. It followed families home, got passed down, and is still showing up on tables in California kitchens today.

In our version, we lean into what makes Weenie Royale genuinely craveable today: a swoop of Kewpie mayo and a generous shower of furikake, two ingredients with a way of bringing people back for seconds. Ketchup is still invited, if you want it.

I hope this recipe finds its way onto your table once my next book comes out in October. And I hope that, like it did for so many families before us, it sticks around.

Memories of a Good Meal will be hitting shelves in just a few months! This book is a collection of stories from survivors of WWII. The recipes included are inspired by the people, places, and meals that have shaped the context of the writing and our experiences getting to know each of the survivors over the years. It’s about teaching the lessons and sharing the wisdom we learned along the journey.

If you’ve been meaning to pre-order a copy, I’d be so grateful if you’d do so now at the link below. Pre-orders have an outsized impact on a book’s success, and every single one helps. More personally, they tell publishers that there are readers who still care about the impact this history should have on future generations. Thank you for following along on this journey. I can’t wait to share more of the book with you in the weeks ahead.

Pre-Order Your Copy

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

My next book, Memories of a Good Meal, will be hitting shelves this October! This book is a collection of stories from survivors of WWII. The recipes included are inspired by the people, places, and meals that have shaped the context of the writing and our experiences getting to know each of the survivors over the years. It’s about teaching the lessons and sharing the wisdom we learned along the journey.

The need for survival, the memories shared, family, grief, joy, and the strange ways food becomes woven into these stories of resilience and heroism. More than anything, it’s a book about gathering around a table and the connections that happen there. The memories that are cemented into our bodies through the act of cooking and eating together.

As we get closer to publication day, I wanted to spend the next month sharing a few previews here on Substack. I’ll be publishing excerpts from some of the stories and how the dishes came to be from the book, including a chilled blueberry soup, Native American fry bread, and complex way the Japanese American dish Weenie Royale was invented. Along the way, I’ll also share some behind-the-scenes stories about how the book came together and a few moments that never made it into the final manuscript.

If you’ve been meaning to pre-order a copy, I’d be so grateful if you’d do so now at the link below. Pre-orders have an outsized impact on a book’s success, and every single one helps. More personally, they tell publishers that there are readers who still care about the impact this history should have on future generations. Thank you for following along on this journey. I can’t wait to share more of the book with you in the weeks ahead.

Pre-Order Your Copy

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

Here’s a way to look like a Michelin-starred chef in front of your friends and family using nothing but a short list of summer ingredients and maybe 20 minutes of your time.

Corn is in full swing right now, and it’s one of my all-time favorite ingredients to cook with. Yes, boiled with butter and salt is perfect. But when you brown that butter first, something magical happens. It melts into the sweet corn in this deeply nutty, almost caramel way that makes the whole dish taste far more composed than anyone would ever expect.

Toasted almonds layer in crunch and a warm nuttiness that plays beautifully off the brown butter. Fresh parsley and ginger cut through the richness and lift everything up. Then there’s the rice. It’s the foundation that holds it all together, soaking up every drop of flavor.

Now, about the sardines. I know. Hear me out. A good tin of sardines (the artisanal kind packed in olive oil) are now possible to find in most grocery stores. Ortiz is a great brand and widely available. They are one of the most underrated ingredients in your pantry. They bring a briny, savory depth that make this dish incredible. I love to drizzle some of that golden oil right over the finished rice and let it work its way through every grain. It’s the kind of move that makes people ask what your secret is.

If sardines genuinely aren’t your thing, swap in whatever tinned fish you love. Smoked trout, mackerel, even good tuna works. But I’d encourage you to try it at least once with sardines. You might surprise yourself.

This comes together in minutes. Tell everyone you worked on it all day. I won’t say a word. Recipe below.

Rice with Brown Butter Corn, Almonds & Sardines

Makes 4 servings

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 cups jasmine rice

• 3 cups water

• 3 teaspoons salt, divided

• 4 tablespoons butter

• 1/2 cup chopped almonds

• 1 small onion, diced

• 1 garlic clove, minced

• 1 teaspoon fresh ginger, minced

• 1 sprig rosemary

• Kernels from 1 ear of corn

• 1 cup parsley, roughly chopped

• 1 tin sardines or your favorite tinned fish

Method

1. Bring 3 cups water and 2 teaspoons of salt to a boil. Add the rice, stir once, then reduce heat to low. Cover and cook for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let steam, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork.

2. While the rice cooks, melt 4 tablespoons butter in a skillet over medium low heat with the chopped almonds. Allow to cook for 8 minutes until the butter and almonds and turned golden brown. Add the onion, garlic, ginger, rosemary and corn and cook until softened, about 5-8 minutes. Season with the last teaspoon of salt and fold in the chopped parsley.

3. Spoon rice into bowls. Top with the brown buttered corn and almond mixture. Lay 1 tin sardines over the top and drizzle on some of the oil from the tin.

Notes

The sardines go on straight from the tin at the end. Their brininess is a perfect contrast to the nutty brown butter. Remove the rosemary sprig before plating. A squeeze of lemon over the top can bring a great brightness to this dish.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

I hear from people all the time that they’re intimidated by making salad dressings. They tell me their dressings never really “pop” with flavor and often end up tasting bland compared to the salads they enjoy at restaurants.

Well, my friends, I have a solution for anyone who finds themselves stuck in that zone of salad dressing dissatisfaction: my “Rule of 2.” It’s a simple rule of thumb that helps add complexity, balance, and bold flavor to any dressing. Start by breaking your dressing down into four key flavor pillars:

• Acid

• Fat

• Flavor Bomb

• Heat

By including two elements from each category, you can create dressings that are layered, vibrant, and anything but boring. The beauty of the Rule of 2 is its flexibility. You can use it to build everything from creamy dressings and classic emulsified vinaigrettes to quick shake-and-pour styles.

Once you understand these flavor pillars, the possibilities are endless. Below I’ve got a recipe for one of my personal favorite mustard vinaigrettes using the rule of 2, and you can use it as a template of sorts for your own creation. Let me know if you give it a try!

Mustard Vinaigrette with the “Rule of 2” Method

yields one cup

Ingredients

• 2 anchovy fillets, minced

• 1 garlic clove, grated

• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

• 1/2 lemon, zested

• 1 tablespoon sherry vinegar

• 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard

• 2 teaspoons whole grain mustard

• 1 teaspoon horseradish

• 1/2 teaspoon Tabasco

• 1 tablespoon avocado oil

• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

• 1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt

Method

Combine all ingredients in a mixing bowl and whisk well, serve over fresh greens or vegetables of your choice.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

Whipped feta is one of those things that sounds simple because it is. But that doesn’t make it any less crave-worthy. Take the briny, salty, creamy depth that feta is known for, run it through a food processor with a bit of yogurt, and what comes out is something altogether different: a silky, cloud-like dip that belongs on every table, just waiting to be dipped into.

For years, I served whipped feta alongside my whole roasted cauliflower at my restaurant. It was a cornerstone of that dish. I left the cauliflower behind here to let its old sidekick take the spotlight. What I love most about whipped feta is how effortlessly it translates into something you can make at home on a Tuesday night without any fuss.

Today I’m keeping it stripped down to just two ingredients: feta and yogurt. That’s it. The magic happens when the blade starts moving. The friction gently warms the cheese, coaxing out its best flavors and smoothing every rough edge until you have something far greater than the sum of its parts.

From there, it becomes a blank canvas. Today I’m topping it with oven-blistered vine-ripened tomatoes, sweet and jammy with caramelized edges, but it’s equally beautiful with ripe summer peaches, fresh figs, or roasted beets. Whatever is in season at the farmers market is usually the right answer.

Grab the recipe below.

Whipped Feta with Roasted Tomatoes

Ingredients

• 12 ounces vine-ripe cherry tomatoes

• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, divided

• 1/2 teaspoon Kosher salt

• 14 ounces feta cheese

• 1/2 cup Greek yogurt

• 2 tablespoons capers

• 1 cup fresh parsley, roughly chopped

• 2 tablespoons good quality balsamic vinegar, for drizzling

• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil, for drizzling

Method

1. Preheat the oven to 500°F.

2. Place the vine-ripe cherry tomatoes on a baking sheet and drizzle with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and a pinch of salt. Roast in the oven for 7–9 minutes until blistered. Set aside.

3. While tomatoes roast, blend the feta cheese and yogurt in a food processor until completely smooth and creamy.

4. Spread whipped feta onto a serving plate. Top with roasted tomatoes and any juices, capers and parsley. Finish with a drizzle of balsamic and extra virgin olive oil.
   

Notes

Serve with crusty bread or pita for dipping. The extra virgin olive oil and balsamic quantities are to taste. Drizzle generously. A good finishing salt on top takes it over the edge.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

It’s the time of year when we’re about to get inundated with blueberries at the farmers market. When you have too many blueberries to count you have to think of creative ways to make something out of them fast. This simple blueberry vinaigrette has become my go-to recipe for making something really special out of necessity. I love the versatility of this vinaigrette as it’s great on everything from salad, to cheese to steak. It all comes together in one bowl in just a few minutes!

I’ve got the recipe below for you, along with a favorite way to use it: my Brie and Blueberry Hors d’oeuvres. Give it a try and let me know what you think.

Blueberry Vinaigrette

Ingredients

1 cup fresh blueberries

1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar

1 tablespoon seasoned rice wine vinegar

1 tablespoon honey

1 tablespoon avocado oil

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 sprig of thyme, leaves picked

Method

In a large mixing bowl, add the blueberries and mash with a fork until they mostly burst and begin releasing their juices. Add in the remaining ingredients and stir well. Whisk or shake well before serving.

Brie and Blueberry Hors d’oeuvres

yields 16 pieces

Ingredients

16 round multigrain crackers

7.5 ounces Brie style cheese, sliced into 16 even wedges

16 mint leaves

5 tablespoons blueberry vinaigrette

1 spicy red chili, sliced very thin, seeds removed

Method

Place the brie cheese wedges on the crackers. Place a mint leaf on each slice of brie, then drizzle the vinaigrette over the cheese. Garnish with a thin slice of spicy red pepper.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

One of the recipes at the heart of the Rescued Recipes Initiative came from a cookbook rescued from the Fenves family home before Steven Fenves and his family were deported to Auschwitz. A Walnut Cake. Eighty years later, I made that cake for Steven himself, giving him the chance to taste a piece of his mother’s kitchen again after a lifetime shaped by war, loss, and survival.

It reminded me that recipes are rarely just recipes. They are proof that someone was here. They gathered around tables, celebrated birthdays, fed their children, and loved one another enough to write things down for the future.

Making a cake for someone is one of the simplest ways to say I love you. Sharing these stories, especially with younger generations, feels just as important. Food has this remarkable ability to open conversations that history books alone sometimes cannot.

That’s the goal of my new book, Memories of a Good Meal: Recipes of Resilience, Inspired by Stories of World War II Survival, created alongside my co-author and collaborator, June Hersh.

This is both a cookbook and a history book, inspired by years of work with World War II survivors and communities whose stories deserve to be remembered. June and I traveled across the world meeting survivors, many in their nineties and one even over a hundred years old, listening to their memories so we could help preserve them for future generations.

Every person we met carried stories of impossible hardship, but also stories of meals shared, recipes remembered, and moments where food became comfort, identity, or survival itself.

Again and again, food became the thread connecting memory to the present.
I often think about how we teach younger generations about what happened during World War II and the years surrounding it. How do we help them understand not only the horror, but also the humanity that existed alongside it? My hope is that gathering around a table can become one meaningful place to begin.

Because history feels different when it is attached to a person. Different when it’s attached to a meal. Different when someone hands you a slice of cake their mother once made before the world changed forever.

I can’t share the recipe for this delicious cake just yet, but you’ll be able to get it when my book comes out in October. It’s just one of many important stories from the war that I have the honor of sharing. If you’d like to pre-order a copy, I’d love you to be one of the first to receive it.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

We’re not far off from the hot days of summer down here in New Orleans, and this is a great salad for those days when you barely want to move, let alone cook. Feta and watermelon complement each other perfectly: salty and sweet, creamy and crisp, briny and fresh.

You might’ve seen that before. The harissa is really what makes this special, bringing out the best of both and adding a whole new dimension. It brings a darker, ruddier flavor to the mix. If you’ve already made your harissa (or grabbed one from the store!), you can assemble this dish in 5 minutes, but even if you make the harissa specifically for this dish, it’s the only thing that’ll take any of your attention and the rest is quick.

Grab the recipe below and let me know what you think if you try it.

Watermelon & Feta Salad

Ingredients

• 1/2 watermelon (rind on)

• ¼ cup harissa (recipe below or store bought)

• 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

• 1/2 cup walnut pieces (lightly toasted, if desired)

• 3/4 cup crumbled sheep’s-milk feta (preferably Bulgarian)

• Sea salt, to taste

• Edible flowers (such as broccoli flowers), for garnish

• Fresh herbs (such as basil), for garnish

Instructions

1. Slice a thick cross-section from the center of the watermelon, about 2 inches thick. Place the cross section cut on your cutting board then using a pairing knife cut around to remove the rind. Place the slab of watermelon on your serving platter then cut into about 2 inch squares all the way across.

2. Using a brush or spoon, evenly coat the surface of the watermelon pieces with the harissa.

3. Sprinkle the crumbled feta and walnut pieces over the watermelon. Drizzle with olive oil.

4. Lightly season with sea salt. Garnish with edible flowers and fresh herbs.

Harissa

Ingredients

• 15 dried árbol chile peppers

• 2 dried guajillo peppers

• 1 dried ancho chile pepper

• 1 tablespoon whole cumin seeds

• 1 ½ teaspoons whole coriander seeds

• 2 large cloves garlic, crushed

• 2 tablespoons lemon juice

• 1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

• 1 teaspoon Morton kosher salt

• 1 ½ teaspoons smoked paprika

• 1 tablespoon tomato paste

• ¾ cup olive oil, divided

Instructions

1. Fill a small saucepan with water and bring it to a boil. Add all the dried peppers and remove from heat. Cover and steep for at least 1 hour, or until the water has completely cooled.

2. Strain the peppers and, with a paring knife, trim away the stems and split them lengthwise. Scrape away their seeds and any of the stringy pith inside—doing this underwater will make it tidier, and wearing latex gloves will keep your fingertips from burning. Be sure to get rid of them all or else it’ll be crazy spicy. Add to the bowl of a food processor and set aside.

3. Toast the cumin and coriander in a small skillet over low heat, stirring occasionally, for about 3 minutes, until you start to smell them. Grind them in a mortar and pestle or chop them by hand to release all their aromas, then add then the garlic and mash it all into a paste.

4. In a food processor, combine the garlic and spices with the lemon juice, vinegar, salt, paprika, and tomato paste. Once everything is blitzed together, stream in ½ cup olive oil.

5. Scrape the sauce into a container and stir in another ¼ cup of olive oil by hand. This last addition lingers on the surface and absorbs all the flavors around it. Harissa keeps for months in the fridge.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

One day in second grade, we were given an assignment to bring something into class for show and tell that would demonstrate who we were, to tell our story. As a young immigrant child who was self conscious and trying my best to assimilate into a new culture of life and food, it became a defining moment in my own story.

Borekas were one of my favorite foods. They were a dish my family had always cooked: warm, flaky pastries stuffed with feta cheese, black pepper and occasionally spinach, then brushed with golden egg yolk and sesame seeds. I’d make them with my mother and grandmother, carefully rolling out the dough, spreading it with butter, folding it again, chilling it, and repeating that process. Each fold produced more tender, buttery layers. Finally, we’d fold the pastry into a triangle, stuff it with the salty feta and black pepper, and seal the edges with the back of a fork to ensure that none of the cheese would leak out. They would make for the perfect presentation to my class.

The show and tell assignment came during one of my safta’s visits to Philadelphia. The night before I was due to present to my class, I asked her to gather everything I’d need to bring. The next morning, I grabbed the bag she’d prepared from the fridge and headed straight to school. It was only when I arrived and began laying out my ingredients that I realized it would be a disaster. I had no feta cheese, no spinach, only puff pastry and eggs. There wasn’t even an oven in which to bake them! I was doomed. When my turn came, I stood there in front of all the other students, fumbling with my story of why I loved this dish that no one could taste. I didn’t even have pre-made borekas to pass around. Sitting back down, I internally berated myself. Who am I, and how will anyone ever understand me now?

As I think back on it today, I don’t know whether I simply missed other bags of ingredients my safta had for me or if she was trying to teach me a lesson in preparedness. But, whether she intended it or not, one message stuck from that first failed cooking demonstration: get your shit together. Take responsibility for your assignments. It was a lesson I’d have to learn for years to come.

This recipe holds a dear place in my family story, and in my personal story of becoming who I am today. I hope you’ll give them a try, and with Mother’s Day around the corner you’ve got the perfect excuse to bake up something delicious.

Spinach Borekas

Yields 12 borekas

Ingredients

• 9 ounces fresh spinach

• 2 (14-ounce) packages puff pastry, thawed

• 8 ounces feta cheese, crumbled

• 4 ounces mozzarella cheese, grated or cut into 1 inch pieces

• 2 ounces cream cheese

• 2 large eggs, divided

• 1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg

• 1/2 teaspoon Tabasco

• All-purpose flour, for dusting

• 2 tablespoons everything bagel seasoning

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven to 425°F (220°C).

2. Bring a large pot of water to a boil.

3. Blanch the spinach in the boiling water for 1 minute. Drain through a colander, let cool, then squeeze out as much excess water as possible.

4. In a food processor, combine the drained spinach, feta, mozzarella, cream cheese, 1 egg, nutmeg, and Tabasco. Pulse a few times until the mixture comes together but is not fully pureed.

5. Lightly flour a work surface and place the thawed puff pastry on top. If the pastry is too cold to handle, let it sit at room temperature for about 10 minutes.

6. Cut the dough into approximately 4-inch squares. Lightly brush edges with water. Place 2–3 tablespoons of filling in the center of each square. Fold into triangles, pressing and crimping edges with a fork to firmly to seal.

7. Transfer to a parchment-lined baking sheet, spacing evenly. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes.

8. When ready to bake, ensure oven is at 425°F (220°C) with a rack in the center. Whisk the remaining egg to make an egg wash.

9. Brush borekas with egg wash and sprinkle each with about 1/2 of teaspoon everything bagel seasoning.

10. Bake for 10 minutes, then rotate the pan, reduce heat to 400°F (200°C), and bake for another 8–10 minutes, until puffed and deep golden brown.

11. Serve warm or at room temperature. Store in an airtight container for up to 2 days.

Notes
When in doubt, I like to over-stuff them. If the filling oozes out a bit as it bakes, even better, since it crisps on the pan and makes a great little snack. If you’re worried about them staying intact, go with the smaller amount.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

When the garden starts giving more basil than you know what to do with, it’s time to get to work in the kitchen. Basil leaves lose flavor the longer they are left on the stem, so keeping up with the plant’s production is key to bright, fresh basil in your dishes. Pesto is great for this. Making this recipe is about preserving the aroma of summer in a form that’s flexible, forgiving, and endlessly adaptable.

Traditionally, pesto leans on pine nuts and Parmesan, but that’s just one version of the story. Swap in walnuts for earthiness, almonds for subtle sweetness, or lean into something more vibrant like pistachios, which bring a soft, buttery richness and a color that echoes the basil itself. Cheeses can shift the tone just as easily. Aged pecorino adds sharpness, while a milder cow’s milk Parmigiano Reggiano cheese keeps things creamy and round. The point isn’t to follow rules; it’s to use what you have and let the ingredients speak.

And then there’s lemon zest, an often-overlooked addition that changes everything. Just a touch lifts the entire mixture, sharpening the basil’s perfume and cutting through the richness of the nuts and cheese. Paired with pistachios, it creates something especially vivid: green on green, bright yet grounded, familiar but just different enough to feel new. It’s the kind of small adjustment that turns excess basil into something worth seeking out, not just using up.

Check out my recipe below and let me know if you give it a try this season.

Pistachio Pesto with Lemon

Ingredients

• ½ cup extra-virgin olive oil

• 1 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese

• ½ cup pistachio pieces

• Zest of 1 lemon

• 1 clove garlic, minced

• ¼ teaspoon kosher salt (such as Morton)

• 4 cups lightly packed fresh basil leaves

Method

1. Pour the olive oil into a blender or food processor first, followed by the cheese, pistachios, lemon, garlic, salt, and finally the basil leaves. Adding the oil first helps the blades move freely and ensures everything blends smoothly from the start.

2. Pulse or blend until the mixture is combined but still has some texture. Avoid over-blending. You’re aiming for a slightly coarse pesto, not a completely smooth purée.

3. Taste and adjust salt or lemon zest if needed.

Notes

• Use freshly grated Parmesan | For the best flavor and texture, grate your Parmesan using a microplane rather than using pre-grated cheese. Pre-grated varieties often contain anti-caking agents that can dull the flavor and affect the texture.

• Oil-first blending matters | Always add the oil to the blender first. If basil goes in before the oil, it can get stuck and prevent the blades from properly pureeing the mixture.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

It’s been a few months since I started sharing my favorite recipes here on Substack, and it felt like a good time to look back at which ones have gotten the most love. It’s been such a rewarding experience to share these with you and to hear your stories of trying them at home, or enjoying some of these dishes at one of the restaurants.

I’m really grateful to have you here with me, and if you try any of the recipes below, I’d love to hear what you think.

Let’s jump into the top five favorites so far.

1.) Whole Roasted Cauliflower with Whipped Feta

Always a crowd pleaser, and a personal favorite of mine for decades.

2.) Ultra Creamy Mashed Potatoes

In this recipe, I share my secret potato preparation tip for the most flavorful, creamy mashed potatoes you’ll ever have.

3.) My Favorite Meatballs

A recipe from my time in Italy, and one that we serve right here in New Orleans at Safta’s Table.

4.) My Secret to Incredible Scrambled Eggs

I’ve picked up many tips and tricks in my day, and this simple ingredient gives you the best scrambled eggs you’ve ever had.

5.) Gumbo with Chicken Cracklins

My gumbo has a dark roux, is filled with delicious morsels of shrimp and sausage, and gets topped with cracklins made from chicken skin. No wonder it’s a favorite.

Thanks for stopping by for today’s post and I hope to see you at Safta’s Table, Saba, Miss River, or Safta soon for a visit.

Alon

During my lifetime, whether at home or in my restaurants, I’ve come to believe the most powerful stories that end up staying with you aren’t delivered by spoken word; they’re experienced around a dining room table.

With a fork and knife in hand, you prepare to feel something intimate. Your entire body becomes the setting. Aromas drift through the air in shifting currents. Sounds, from afar to between your teeth, fill your ears and demand an emotional response. Textures from crispy to soft, and temperatures from frozen to steaming, create lasting pathways to memory that no point of view can ever reach as deeply.

If you want to teach a lesson, or tell a story that you hope lasts, share a meal with someone. The body becomes a sponge, absorbing the lessons of the past while the future waits just ahead, ready for your mind to enter. Over the past several years, I’ve begun a journey that has become some of the most meaningful work of my life. I’ve been cooking recipes from a family cookbook rescued from Steven Fenves’ home in 1944, as his family was being sent to Auschwitz. We’ve raised close to $1 million for the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum by hosting intimate dinners across the country to tell a story — one of heroism, horror and food.

The heroine was Maris, the Fenves family’s cook, who had the bravery and foresight to save Steven’s mother’s handwritten recipe collection from the kitchen as their neighbors looted their home. The horror was life under the Nazis, from beginning to end. And the food was memory. Memory of a family gathered at the table, sharing a meal in a way so many of us take for granted.

At these dinners, which we call Rescued Recipes, I watch people gather; children, teenagers, young and old, filling their plates while reconnecting with something in their own lives. As they engage with the gastronomic history of a Holocaust survivor’s story, I see more than a story being told. I see feeling take shape and memory born.

That perspective carries even greater weight as our community observes Holocaust Remembrance Day, or Yorn HaShoah.

We are losing first-person accounts every day. Steven passed just last December, and we now carry the responsibility of ensuring our children never forget. Six million Jews were murdered. Millions more were persecuted. Millions of non-Jews were killed for opposing the fascist regime. These facts are essential, but how will we continue to teach them?

What does it mean to teach Holocaust history through food? A crust of bread shared in secret. A grandmother’s recipe remembered but never written down. A holiday meal reimagined from scraps. That may be where our minds go first when asked.

Though all true, they are just part of a story and not reflective of the whole. A normal Tuesday night dinner in 1938, a simple breakfast before seeing the children off to school in 1940. A family, talking about their day, in the flickering shadows of Shabbat candles in the dining room.

June Hersh and I set out to capture these stories for an upcoming cookbook. After years of research and conversations with Holocaust survivors and World War II heroes, we found the most powerful moments in people’s memories were not only about the worst parts of the war, but about daily life before it.

Perhaps a simple bowl of oatmeal drizzled with French honey, hand-rolled Polish dumplings or a succulent chocolate cake from a nearly century-old recipe still carries lessons we can use today. Lessons of family values and our innate ability to inspire change in the world through good deeds. Too often, we get caught up in the precision of cooking, or the absence of it, and lose sight of the essence of the meal, the storyline. How we not only nourish our bodies, but how we sustain our spirit.

And that matters now more than ever.

Hatred and division have not only endured since the last world war; they’ve accelerated at the speed of the internet and caused harm in every facet of life. Even food has not escaped. The simple act of gathering to eat and drink to celebrate culture, practice religion or just have lunch can be weaponized. We may experience this anger more often in the comments section than on street corners, but it happens there too and inflicts pain on all.

Every time we set the table, we are given a choice. Food can heal. It can teach. It can connect. Let’s remember that this year on Yorn HaShoah.

Thank you to Nola.com for hosting this story on their website. To see the original article, click here.

Alon