The Perfect Pantry®

Turkey, black bean, and three-chile taco boats {gluten-free}

My friend Mary has been gluten-free and dairy-free for a couple of years, and one day she confessed to me that, sometimes, she gets a little bit bored with her cooking. I understand, because really, don't we all get in a rut once in a while? I do. To break out of the rut, you don't always need to invent something new; you might just need to jazz up the presentation a bit. I found Ortega gluten-free tortilla flats in my supermarket, in the Latin foods aisle. I made a slight variation of our favorite Tex-Mex turkey and black bean sauce, using some green chile powder my friend Kalyn sent me, and piled the sauce into the tortilla flats. The dish looked, and felt, brand new -- and my grandsons loved it, too.

Basil ricotta bruschetta with pan-burst grapes {vegetarian}

Park a giant bowl of fruit salad on the dining table, and my husband Ted and I both go for the cantaloupe and honeydew chunks, and any odd things like kiwi. He'll take the mango; I'll claim the watermelon. And we never fight over the grapes. I could eat grapes all day, every day, in the way one might chomp on peanut M&Ms all day, every day, but cold grapes are not Ted's thing. However, set those grapes in a frying pan over low heat, shake-shake-shake the pan every now and then until the grapes burst and their sweet juices ooze out, and spoon them over some seasoned ricotta cheese, and Ted is there, all in. These warm grapes barely resemble the fresh grapes I eat like candy; they become a grape "sauce" once they've popped open, not as sweet as grape jelly but every bit as spreadable. We've enjoyed these bruschetta as a first course, and as dessert. You can toast the bread, and mix the cheese, ahead of time, and assemble at the last minute when the pan of grapes is ready. Use any variety of seedless grapes, or a mix of red, green and black.

Curry powder: like or dislike?

Welcome to Like or Dislike, where you get to share how you really feel about ingredients from the pantry, ingredients I'm thinking about adding to my pantry, other seasonal foods, and favorite cooking gear. The things you like are sure to find their way to the recipes here on The Perfect Pantry, so do tell.

When I moved into my first apartment, I stocked my meager spice rack with a few basics I remembered from my mother's kitchen: table salt and black pepper, of course, but also tins of paprika and hot mustard (for dipping sauces for Chinese take-out), oregano and cinnamon and Madras curry powder. Even back then, you could buy Madras curry powder in the supermarket spice aisle. I didn't know there was more than one type of curry powder, or even that it was, in fact, a blend of spices. Now I know, and I keep half a dozen curry powders on my spice rack. I've also stocked most of the components to blend my own curry powder, though I confess that I never do it, because I'm just not knowledgeable or confident enough to get it right. I use sweet curry more than any other, and sometimes I mix it 50-50 with hot curry. How about you? Do you use curry powder, or do you mix your own?

Curry powder: like or dislike?

Viking chicken with honey, butter and herbs {gluten-free}

I've got to be honest: I don't really know what's "viking" about this chicken, but the original recipe came from the locally-published The Viking Cookbook that Cousin Martin brought home from Svalbard, Norway, where he went to view the solar eclipse earlier in the year. I didn't expect to find any recipes for which I had all of the ingredients -- whole Baltic herring? young nettles? swedes? (which turn out to be rutabagas, though I had no idea) -- but then I found this honey-grilled herb chicken. The recipe calls for a whole chicken; I had lots of boneless, skinless chicken breasts on hand, so I adapted, with delicious results. You can use skinless chicken thighs, if you prefer, or a couple of small Cornish hens. I ate the picnic-perfect leftovers cold the next day with cucumbers, which seemed somehow a bit Norwegian to me.

Lobster and avocado salad with tomatoes and basil {gluten-free}

What kind of friend shows up at your door, unannounced, with a two-pound cooked lobster, plus extra large lobster claws and tail? The very best kind, of course! When Mary appeared with a big plastic bag filled with bright red cooked lobster, whole and parts, I'm sure I squealed with joy, protested half-heartedly (oh, no, I couldn't possibly accept this), and immediately began to fantasize about a salad packed with chunks of sweet lobster meat, avocado, and garden-ripe tomatoes. My husband Ted patiently extricated all of the meat from the lobster shells, while I whipped up a creamy dressing for the salad. I left all of the ingredients in large chunks, the better to taste every bite of the lobster. Mary couldn't join us for lunch, so I used the lobster shells to make a quick stock to stash in her freezer; it will be a luxurious base for New England chowder some time this summer. The recipe makes an indulgently lobster-filled salad; you can reduce the amount of lobster meat if it's very expensive where you live. Buy steamed lobster at your fish market. If you don't live in a place where you can get fresh lobster, try this salad with large shrimp.