Anita Lo

This tiny handmade pasta is a labor of love, but you'll be glad you devoted an afternoon to fresh pasta-making once you've tasted it. The tender orecchiette is irresistible once tossed in the rich, buttery sauce studded with savory mortadella and bright peas.

My introduction to skate took place when I was a child, during a summer spent on Cape Cod, where, with my older brother and sister, I ran into a fisherman. He was an old salt, his arms deeply tanned and wrinkled from the sun, his beard scraggly and speckled with dried seawater. We asked what he had been catching. "Skate," he replied. Not familiar with the fish, we inquired further and he told us, "In New England we call skate poor man’s scallops." He explained that "back in the day," people on the cape would cut out rounds of the meat as a substitute for scallops because the species shared a common sweetness. What he didn’t tell us is that skate is notoriously difficult to work with when whole. I learned that lesson the hard way and, at the same time, realized the true value of the fish. In the fall of 1999 I had a lot of free time on my hands. Annisa wasn't open yet and I was just learning the art of angling. Jen and I had driven all the way from Manhattan to Shinnecock Canal on Long Island because we heard that striper fishing was particularly good there. After a few hours, and a rough time of it, I landed my skate. I am by no means squeamish, but this fish broke me. None of my extensive culinary training prepared me for what followed. It was the skate that would not die. It took hours; multiple gashes in the head; a three-and-a-half-hour airless trunk ride from Long Island back home to Manhattan, and a drag-out struggle on the cutting board. We gave up the good fight and decided to let the skate die while we watched TV in the next room. Since that traumatic experience, I have not personally killed another skate, but it’s often on the menu at annisa. It is robust and, yes, sweet-flavored, but to call it "poor man’s scallop" is inaccurate and doesn’t do justice to the distinct character of the fish.

Homemade ginger juice lends complex flavor to this squash purée.

Lo uses saikyo white miso, a very mild and slightly sweet soybean paste, but any white miso works well in this sweet-and-spicy dish. The brightly flavored sauce makes a great dressing on simply prepared seasonal vegetables. Scallops would also be a good choice.

Hakurei turnips are a small, delicately flavored Japanese variety that will win over even the harshest turnip critic. If you can't find them, use another small turnip like the Tokyo, or substitute with red radishes. Lo advocates using the whole turnip, from bitter, leafy-green tops to sweet roots.

Based on a dessert that Lo serves at Annisa, this custardy bread pudding is shot through with poppy seeds for a stunning visual and textural effect. The bread soaks overnight; begin 1 day ahead.

Lo's take on cranberry sauce makes citrus the star by soaking mandarins in fragrant elderflower syrup before caramelizing them. You can use any of your favorites: tangerines, clementines, satsumas, honeys, or Minneolas. Begin this recipe 1 day ahead.

"Brining the turkey overnight keeps it moist and seasons the interior of the meat," says Lo. "The ingredients, except the cider, are classic 'red-cooking' flavorings used in Chinese cooking to braise and glaze meats like pork or duck." Tent the turkey—especially the wings—with foil if it darkens too quickly while roasting.

The brown rice in this side dish is full of fiber. (Cooked white has none.)

Not a fin in sight here—just a light, sweet finish to a healthy meal.

Drink up and get a healthy dose of cancer-fighting lycopene.

This summer side cooks quickly, so the veggies retain their nutrients.

This shrimp appetizer almost has the iron of steak but far fewer calories.

Scallops are rich in iodine, essential to a healthy thyroid and metabolism.

You can use any kind of crab, or even dip lump crabmeat in the sauces.

The squid in this entrée is tender and picks up the flavors it's cooked with.