Since the boiling point of water is such an important kitchen landmark, I’d always assumed boiling to be the most straightforward cooking method: just drop food into a pot of bubbling water and pull it out when it’s done. Then one day, after about a year in the kitchen, as I turned my hundredth pot of boiling chicken stock down to a simmer, a lightbulb went off: when it comes to cooking food in liquid, cooking food through at a rolling boil is the exception rather than the rule .
I realized boiling is called for only when cooking vegetables, grains, and pasta; reducing sauces; and hard-cooking eggs. I could bring everything else—
and I mean everything— to a boil and then swiftly reduce it to a simmer to cook through, whether I was cooking over a live fire, on the stove, or in an oven.
Since simmering water is gentler than boiling water, it won’t jostle delicate
foods so much that they fall apart or agitate tougher foods so much that overcook on the surface before cooking through completely.
Beans. Braises. Paella. Jasmine Rice. Chicken Vindaloo. Pozole . Quinoa.
Stews. Risotto. Chili. Béchamel sauce. Potato gratin. Tomato sauce. Chicken stock. Polenta. Oatmeal. Thai curry. It didn’t matter—this applied to everything cooked in liquid. It was a life-changing revelation!
Depending on whom you ask, the temperature of simmering water can range from 180°F to 205°F. Look at the pot—is it barely bubbling like a just-poured glass of your favorite sparkling water, beer, or champagne? If so, then cheers—
it’s simmering.
Sauces
Bring tomato sauce, curry, milk gravy, and mole sauce alike to a boil, then turn down to a simmer to cook them through. Some sauces, such as Ragù Bolognese , take all day. Others, such as pan sauces or Indian butter chicken, cook far more quickly, but the process is the same.
In general, keep sauces containing fresh milk at a simmer, because some of the proteins in milk can coagulate above temperatures of 180°F, resulting in curdled, grainy sauces. Sauces made from cream contain little to no protein and avoid this risk of coagulation. And milk sauces containing flour, such as béchamel or pastry cream, are an exception to this rule, as flour will interfere with coagulation. Still, remember that the natural sugars in milk and cream are eager to scorch, so once these sauces come to a boil, reduce them to a simmer and stir often to prevent burning.
Meats
I used to turn my nose up at boiled meat, which really ought to be called simmered meat, but that was before I discovered Nerbone, a sandwich stand in Florence’s Mercato Centrale. The lunch lines at Nerbone were the longest in the market, so I decided to investigate. While I stood in line, I eavesdropped as everyone ahead of me in line ordered, trying to decipher their words. Even though there was a full lunch menu replete with pastas and main courses, everyone disregarded it, instead ordering panini bolliti— boiled beef sandwiches
—garnished with chili oil and an herby salsa verde.
When I got to the front of the line, I carefully placed my order in Italian, “Un panino bollito con tutte due le salse.” A boiled beef sandwich with both sauces.
Though I’d been in Italy for less than a week, I’d studied Italian intensively before arriving. I may have overestimated my grasp of the language. When the
man at the counter said something to me in Tuscan dialect, I froze. I refused to admit that I had absolutely no clue what he’d just said. I nodded vehemently and paid the cashier. He handed me my sandwich, which I took outside to eat on the steps of the market. I took a bite, expecting to taste the tender, flavorful brisket I’d seen him slicing for the others, but that wasn’t what I got. I was totally thrown off at first. I had no idea what was wrong with my sandwich. If this was indeed brisket, it was definitely the weirdest brisket I’d ever had. How could this strange-textured, off-tasting thing be what everyone was lining up for? After a brief panic, I forced myself to continue chewing and swallow. I went back and hovered at the sandwich stand, studying the signs, until I finally figured out that the man at the counter had been trying to tell me he’d sold out of brisket. All he had left was lampredotto , a Florentine specialty. With my vehement nodding, I’d signaled that I’d be fine with tripe instead of brisket. I forced myself to eat that sandwich, even though I’d never before—and have never since—enjoyed tripe. It may not have been suited to my tastes, exactly, but I will say—it was the most tender meat I’d ever had. The next time I returned to Nerbone, I got there early to beat the lunch rush. The brisket sandwich was the best I’d ever had.
Eventually, when my language skills improved, I asked the counter guy how he got the meat so tender and moist. He looked at me, bewildered. “È semplice.
Arrivo ogni mattina alle sei e lo cuoco a fuoco lento— It’s simple. I get here every morning at six and simmer it.”
And then he added, “L’acqua non dovrebbe bollire mai —The water must never boil.”
He was right—there’s no recipe for meat more straightforward than “Simmer in salted water.” Such a simple preparation leaves lots of room for exotic or savory garnishes. That is its beauty. Vietnam’s chicken noodle soup Pho Gà , a model of clarity, is most inviting to a long list of garnishes including scallions, mint, cilantro, chilies, and lime.
Cuts of meat with lots of connective tissue, such as chicken thighs, brisket, and pork shoulder are perfect for simmering, as the water and gentle heat will transform collagen into gelatin overtime without drying out the exterior. To yield the most flavorful meat, place it in boiling, salted water, then turn it down to a simmer. For tasty meat and broth, start with simmering water. Add a few aromatics—half an onion, a few cloves of garlic, bay leaves, or a dried chili—
and leave the slate otherwise blank. Over the course of the week, refer to The World of Flavor and turn the meat into a different dish each night. How to know when the meat is done? It’ll be falling off the bone, or if boneless, it’ll be mouthwateringly tender.
Starches
Starchy carbohydrates prosper at a simmer, which rattles their tough skins and encourages water to flow inside. Simmer potatoes, beans, rice, and all manner of grains until they’ve absorbed enough water to be tender.
As with boiled meat, heighten the flavor of any starch by simmering it in a savory cooking liquid. Cook rice in unskimmed chicken stock, as Thai cooks do for khao man gai , and you’ll give a modest meal of rice, greens, and an egg a little meaty edge. When my grandparents took me on a trip into the mountains towering above their village in northern Iran, each morning I eagerly looked forward to a breakfast of haleem : the hearty, nutritious porridge of wheat, oats, and turkey simmered slowly together in stock or milk warmed me up in spite of the crisp mountain air.
Porridges, including polenta, grits, and oatmeal, are variations on this theme
—simmer these starches in water, milk, or whey, the clear liquid that gathers
atop yogurt, until they grow tender. Because they are so starchy, stir these dishes often to prevent scorching.
Risotto, paella, and fideus react similarly. Make risotto with arborio rice, a variety with a remarkable capacity to absorb an immense amount of liquid without falling apart. After toasting the onions and browning the rice in fat, add flavorful liquids, such as wine, stock, or tomatoes. As the pot simmers, the rice takes on liquid and gives off starch. The more flavorful the liquid, the more flavorful the finished dish will be. Fideus , a similar dish from Spain, is made with toasted noodles instead of rice. Paella, too, is built on the concept of a thirsty starch drinking up a flavorful stock. Traditionally, paella isn’t stirred but left untouched as it cooks, and is prized for the soccorat , or crisp crust of rice that forms at the bottom of the pan as a result.
Pasta will also absorb flavorful liquids. As I described in the walkthrough for Pasta alle Vongole , one of my favorite tricks is to pull the noodles from the boiling water a minute or two early and let them finish cooking in a pan of simmering sauce. This allows the noodles and the sauce to unify into a single entity—as the pasta cooks, it gives off starch and takes on liquid. As a result, the sauce absorbs its starch and thickens. And the pasta takes on the sauce’s flavor.
There’s nothing else like it.
Vegetables
Simmer fibrous or tough vegetables—those particularly rich in cellulose—that require extended cooking to be rendered edible. Spare fennel and artichokes (and cardoons, their thistly cousins) from the tumult of boiling to keep them from falling apart. Instead, simmer them until tender with equal parts water and wine spiked with olive oil, vinegar, and aromatics to cook them à la grecque .