Summer

This dish has the beguiling, distinctively Southeast Asian aroma of garlic, lots of it, nuoc mam (the Vietnamese fish sauce known more commonly by its Thai name, nam pla), and lime. But there are a couple of “secret” ingredients as well, including the mild acidity of lemongrass and the spiciness of black pepper in large quantities. Traditionally, this dish also contains the burnt sweetness that comes from caramelized sugar, but the intense heat of the grill makes honey a good substitute and a much easier one. So the marinade can be assembled in ten minutes, the grill preheated in another ten, and the pork grilled in ten: a great, intensely flavored, thirty-minute dish. You can use pork chops for this dish, but so-called country-style ribs (actually the shoulder end of the pork loin) remain moister during grilling. And if you can find these “ribs” with the bone out, so much the better—you’ve essentially got a one-inch-thick pork loin steak that grills beautifully.

A logical combination and glorious once you taste it, with the sweet juice of the peaches deftly cutting through the richness of the lamb without being piercing. A hint of cinnamon (or an even smaller one of allspice—maybe an eighth of a teaspoon) gives the dish a great aroma as it cooks and a slightly mysterious flavor at the table. A pinch of cayenne or other red pepper makes a nice addition. Whereas most braises begin with browning, this one ends with it, like the Braised and Grilled Lamb Shanks on page 188. This method reduces both spattering and time—since the lamb’s liquid is mostly gone by the end of cooking, it doesn’t go flying from the hot fat, and the meat browns faster. And the peaches, browning lightly in the same cooking liquid, contribute some of their juices to the pan while becoming meltingly tender.

There are just two reasons for marinating before grilling: to add flavor and promote browning and crispness. Neither of these requires much time, although dunking the meat or fish for a few minutes in what is best labeled a grilling sauce may contribute to a slightly greater penetration of flavor. (On the other hand, if you really have no time at all, simply smear the food with the sauce as it’s going on the grill.) Promoting browning is easy: anything with sugar browns quickly—often too quickly, as you know if you’ve ever slathered a piece of chicken with barbecue sauce before grilling it. Which flavor to add is a matter of taste. My favorite is soy sauce; I love its taste, and it always seems to contribute exactly the right amount of saltiness. Any marinade that is made with a sweetener will need some acid to balance it; lime goes best with soy, but almost any acidic liquid will do, from lemon to white vinegar. One last note about marinades: Marinade that is applied to raw food should not be brushed on during the last few minutes of cooking, nor should it be used as a sauce unless it is boiled for a few minutes. And, as always, marinade brushes and other utensils that are used with raw food should not be used near the end of cooking.

Branches of rosemary are ideal for this dish, especially if you live in a Mediterranean climate where rosemary grows in shrubs. You can slide the food right onto them (in the direction of the needles, so as not to dislodge them), and they flavor it brilliantly; but so does some rosemary tucked in among the chunks of food. If you skewer on wood or metal skewers, turning will be made easier if you use two sticks in parallel for each skewer, separating them by about a half inch; you can also buy two-pronged metal skewers that do the trick nicely.

Cooking in packages requires a small leap of faith to determine that the food is done, because once you open the packages you want to serve them. This method works well.

So few ingredients and so much flavor—as long as the ingredients are of high quality! Omit the basil if you can’t find any, but where there are good tomatoes there is probably good basil. Add slices of mozzarella to make this more substantial.

Anyone who’s ever had a garden or raided a corn field knows that when corn is young you can eat it cob and all and that the cob has as much flavor as the kernels. That flavor remains even when the cob has become inedibly tough, and you can take advantage of it by using it as the base of a corn chowder—a corn stock, if you will. Into that stock can go some starch for bulk, a variety of seasonings from colonial to contemporary, and, finally, the corn kernels. The entire process takes a half hour or a little bit longer, and the result is a thick, satisfying, late summer chowder.

I like gazpacho, but the ultimate minimalist version—take a few tomatoes, a red pepper, some onion, oil, and vinegar, and whiz it in a blender—doesn’t always cut it for me. When I confessed this to my friend and sometime co-author Jean-Georges Vongerichten, he suggested I abandon tradition entirely and combine tomatoes with another fruit of the season: cantaloupe. These, combined with basil and lemon—in place of vinegar—produce the mildest, most delicious, creamiest gazpacho I’ve ever tasted. Make sure to use ripe cantaloupe and tomato at the height of the summer for the best results.

The Philippines is not renowned for its cuisine, but chicken adobo is the well-known exception. The basic idea is this: You poach chicken in a mixture of diluted soy sauce, vinegar, and spices until it’s just about done, and then you grill or broil it. Before serving, the poaching liquid is boiled until reduced (thus eliminating any fears of bacterial contamination) and used as a sauce; it’s delicious over rice. If you know you are going to make the dish a day or two before eating it, you can poach the chicken in advance and refrigerate it, in or out of its liquid, until you’re ready, then proceed with the recipe. But because the grilling or broiling time will be a little longer than if you proceed without stopping—the cold chicken must heat through—you should use slightly lower heat to avoid burning. Serve this with plain white rice.

This is the recipe of my friend Vikram Vij, whose Vancouver restaurant, Vij’s, is among the best Indian restaurants in North America. Other cuts of meat you can use here: Beef tenderloin (filet mignon), cut into medallions. Pilaf (page 513), Dal (page 433), and other standard Indian accompaniments would do nicely here.

Meat to be grilled for shish kebab, usually lamb, is ideally marinated in a paste of yogurt, minced onion, and spices, even if it’s only for a few minutes. If you prefer to eliminate the yogurt, use a couple of tablespoons of olive oil instead. And if you have dried ground sumac—a sour spice found at all Middle Eastern stores—sprinkle a little of it on the meat just before serving (you won’t need the lemon). If you choose to grill other vegetables—tomatoes, peppers, mushrooms, more onions, whatever— skewer them separately. Simply brush them with a little olive oil and sprinkle them with salt and pepper. These skewers, of course, are ideal with Pilaf (page 513). Other cuts of meat you can use here: beef tenderloin (filet mignon) or boneless chicken thighs (which will require a little longer cooking time).

Kofte are at home in a dozen or more countries, under a variety of names. The most basic combine ground lamb and onion in a fairly smooth paste—not chopped, like the best hamburgers are, but quite dense—and are grilled on skewers (you can, if you prefer, shape them into burgers or meatballs and grill that way). Beyond the basic, there are infinite varieties; I get into some of them, but this is a subject on which one could write a book . . . Serve, if you like, with Parsley-Onion Condiment (page 596).

When I was served this dish, of alternating bay leaves and chunks of lamb, the bay leaves were fresh (I was told that the world’s best bay leaves are grown around Smyrna, in Turkey). I couldn’t imagine that dried bay leaves would be much less delicious, and indeed they’re not. Either a rice dish or ordinary crusty bread is fine here, along with a salad like Spicy Carrot Salad (page 191), any of the eggplant salads on pages 191–193, or simply some plain roasted peppers or grilled vegetables. Other cuts of meat you can use here: chunks of boneless pork shoulder (which will need somewhat longer cooking) or beef tenderloin (filet mignon).

How wonderful is the marriage between thyme and lamb? So wonderful that this dish conjures up visions of Greeks spit-roasting lamb or goat on rocky hills above the sea, basting it with branches of thyme dipped in olive oil. (Which is not a bad recipe itself, especially if you have the rocky hills and sea.) This lamb is lovely with a rice dish or simply with bread. Note, interestingly, that this recipe is virtually the same as the one that follows—except the flavors are distinctly different. Under many circumstances, I would have made one a variation of the other, but it would have seemed, in this case, to give one or the other short shrift. They’re both great. Other cuts of meat you can use here: thick cuts of “London broil” or flank steak.

You can use a whole leg for this or a butterflied boneless leg—usually, you can buy boneless leg of lamb in the supermarket. You can grill or broil it (or, for that matter, roast in a hot oven); there are differences in timing and in flavor, but all the results are excellent, and it’s a dish you can use at any time of year. You can also make it more simply: rub a leg of lamb with olive oil, salt, pepper, and fresh thyme or rosemary. But I like it best as it is done in Provence, with a variety of herbs, along with some garlic. If you’re cooking this inside, serve it with Potatoes with Bay Leaves (page 481) or another roasted potato dish and a simple steamed vegetable. Outside, I’d grill some vegetables and perhaps some Crostini (page 41). One more comment: this is also great with boneless lamb shoulder, but because that is higher in fat, you must grill over lower heat, and carefully, to prevent burning.

Try to use branches of fresh oregano, marjoram, or fennel here; they really make a tremendous difference. The first two are grown by many gardeners, and a good gardener can probably spare some. Bronze—herb—fennel grows wild all over southern California and is easy to find (it’s also grown by some gardeners). Occasionally you can find one of these in a big bunch at a market, too; you’ll need a big bunch to try the grilling option. In any case, choose a fish with a simple bone structure so it can be served and eaten easily. The best for this purpose are sea bass, red snapper, grouper, striped bass, and mackerel. One advantage in using the oven over the grill is that in roasting you can add some peeled, chunked potatoes to the bottom of the roasting pan as well; they’ll finish cooking along with the onions.

This dish is popular throughout Southeast Asia (I had it in Vietnam), where firm-fleshed river fish are plentiful. Carp is an excellent choice for freshwater fish, as is wild catfish (I’m not a fan of farmed catfish), but red snapper or sea bass is also good. Lime leaves are not always available; substitute grated lime zest if necessary. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla). This would be great with Green Papaya Salad (without the shrimp, page 198).

Matambre, which means “hunger killer” or “hunger fighter” in Spanish, is one of Argentina’s best and best-known culinary exports, a rolled flank steak stuffed with spices, vegetables, and hard-cooked eggs that makes a fabulous presentation. Matambre is prepared and served in a variety of ways. I like it best roasted, then chilled, pressed, and sliced. Prepare it on a Saturday night during the summer, unveil it Sunday afternoon, and spend the remainder of the day picking at it and drinking well-chilled Argentinean red wine. Serve with Chimichurri (page 617) or any salsa. Freeze the meat for 30 minutes or so before slicing; the firmer meat will make the job easier.

Simple skewers brushed, after grilling, with an easy, traditional Sicilian sauce. Grill some vegetables at the same time if you like. For an indoor version, see the variation.

Rémoulade is an all-purpose fish sauce, a super spicy, chunky variation on mayonnaise and perhaps the Platonic ideal of tartar sauce. You can use it with poached, baked, fried, even leftover fish, but I think it’s best with grilled fish. Swordfish is the most obvious candidate, but you can grill steaks of cod, mahimahi, mako, salmon, or tuna and serve them with rémoulade; monkfish is also good. This combination is pretty rich; I’d be satisfied with a decent bread and a salad or steamed vegetable dressed with no more than lemon juice.