Leafy Greens

No, its not the title of a lost Dr. Seuss opus, but a perfectly grown-up dish in which the richness of grilled spice-rubbed lamb chops is cut by lemon (both zest and flesh). Chances are you'll want to eat it anywhere.

BLT, hold the bread (you won't miss it). Big chunks of sun-ripened tomato and soft leaves of butterhead lettuce—Boston or Bibb, for instance—are topped with a creamy blue cheese dressing (fine-tuned with a wizardly touch of bacon fat) and plenty of crisp homemade bacon bits. It is a familiar yet striking kickoff to a bucolic meal seriously focused on produce.

It's amazing how a splash of citrus and a handful of pistachios can transform a pair of humble brassicas—kale and kohlrabi both belong to that genus—into a bright, fresh, and lively dish. Although this recipe represents the letter k, it could just as easily have been g, for green. Or great.

Feathery carrot tops, the often discarded exclamation point to this popular vegetable, have a sprightly bitterness—almost a cross between radicchio and parsley—that makes them an intriguing accent to a crisp, cumin- scented slaw. Although it's wonderful made with regular orange carrots, you could also showcase the rainbow of offerings (in shades of scarlet, burgundy, and yellow) that beckon at farmers markets.

Sweet-tart pineapple is wonderful with pork, as are collard greens. The two together, plus a healthy dose of vinegar, morph into something that's utterly surprising and utterly delicious. It both complements and cuts the richness of the meat.

Garbanzos con espinacas Native to Iran, chickpeas were introduced in the eastern Mediterranean by the Greeks and Romans, but most scholars believe the Carthaginians carried chickpea seeds to Spain. Spinach arrived with the Moors. This classic pairing, from the kitchens of New Castile, began as a Lenten dish. In time, the combination was rounded out with the addition of salt cod and became an everyday dish, with the faithful sacrificing the salt cod during Lent. Today, the salt cod is sometimes replaced with a ham hock during the cooking of the beans and/or diced cooked ham to the finished dish. (If you opt to include the salt cod, be sure to omit the ham hock.) The stew is enriched with a picada of fried bread and garlic and is fairly thick and substantial. It may even be topped by fried or hard-boiled eggs.

Watercress, black pepper, and plain yogurt, which are easier to find, can be substituted here.

A lovely combination of contrasting tastes: bitter greens, salty-smoky bacon, tangy goat cheese, and sweet shallots.

A restaurant kitchen can be a virtual United Nations, with a staff made up of people from around the world. A dishwasher at Aquavit who comes from Mali told me about the typical midday meal he had growing up: peanut stew made with onion, tomatoes, and spinach served over rice. His description was the starting point for this peanutty stew, an elegant interpretation of a dish eaten throughout West Africa every day.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from I Like Food, Food Tastes Good: In the Kitchen with Your Favorite Bands by Kara Zuaro. Crooked Fingers
from Eric Bachmann When I think back to some of the happiest times of my life, I can hear Eric Bachmann's music playing in the background. His old band, Archers of Loaf, was the car stereo soundtrack to many nights of sipping Slurpees with my best friends in high school. When Archers disbanded, Eric started Crooked Fingers — named for his grandfather's CB handle — and my boyfriend, Pete, played me their first record on our first date. On our first vacation together, we found that our North Carolinian pals were also big Archers of Loaf fans and had actually been to their last show ever. In the dark, junkyard-like backyard of their crappy local bar, they broke out into an a cappella version of "Web in Front," which remains the most joyful, punk rock thing I've ever heard. In that moment, I felt so lucky that my life was happening to me. But, because I'm a bit of a pessimist, I really hoped I'd never meet Eric Bachmann. I feared that no mortal man could measure up to his music and all the memories I had tied up in it. So, when we saw him standing around at SXSW (Austin's springtime indie rock fest), Pete literally had to push me to talk to him about the cookbook. Turns out, Eric has worked in restaurants all his life. He loves to cook, and he mentioned this seared tuna dish, which, by the way, is ridiculously easy to make and very impressive. When he emailed me the recipe, it came with a note that said, "Thanks for allowing me to be a part of your project . . . it's a real honor." The pleasure is all mine.

Radicchio adds streaks of scarlet and a pleasant bitterness to the usual Greek-salad suspects. A simple lemon and olive-oil dressing keeps things light and fresh.

Any excuse to cook a pork chop is a good excuse, and here is one of Italian origin: You get to stuff it with prosciutto, not to mention buttery Fontina and aromatic sage.

Lobes of golden mushrooms, shreds of buttery Gouda cheese, and the heartiness of spicy greens come together in this substantial salad. It's a terrific companion to the chive shortcakes, stew, and baked tomatoes, but keep it in mind when all you're after is a soup-and-salad supper.

A classic American sandwich gets a makeover: The avocado dressing has an inviting creaminess to it, and the crunchy grilled croutons are a revelation.

In this remarkably tasty side-dish vegetable, instant stock powder provides a long-cooked depth of flavor in minutes. The rich creaminess of the white beans transforms frozen spinach into a healthful and delicious version of creamed spinach. It's not just a side dish though: Use leftover "creamed" spinach as a sauce for pasta or grains (season a bit more heavily) or thin it with enough vegetable stotck to turn it into a soup.

Serve with ice-cold beer and your favorite slaw. Put out artisanal cheese and fresh fruit for dessert.