Gluten Free

Chances are that this irresistible green salad, one of the simplest recipes in this book, will fit into your dinner repertoire several times a week. At Bayona we use a mix of lolo rosso, red oak, frisée, Boston or Bibb, red leaf, watercress, and radicchio lettuces. The dressing, which gets a sweet-tart kick from two types of vinegar, mustard, and honey, really makes this salad sing. A small portion of an assertive cheese, like Grana Padano or crumbled blue cheese, will add an appealing sharpness.

There are two versions of remoulade. French remoulade means celery root remoulade, a beloved bistro slaw bound in a creamy white mustard-mayo dressing. But in New Orleans, classic remoulade is red and more of a vinaigrette, made with two traditional spices, paprika and cayenne, and balanced with plenty of celery and parsley that provide a fresh, clean crunch. This remoulade is my favorite way to eat chilled, boiled shrimp, crab, or crayfish, but the dressing is also great on crabmeat or on a simple boiled egg, sliced in half and served atop crisp shredded lettuce.

Once you master a classic vinaigrette, the variations in flavor—and the things you can drizzle it over—are endless. What follows are my all-time favorite dressings, but feel free to alter the recipes to include your favorite vinegar, citrus juice, mustard, or herb. You’ll find a range of dressing personalities to suit just about every salad under the sun.

This dressing is delicious with a ripe tomato salad, Bibb lettuce, and fried popcorn shrimp or crayfish tails.

Smoked tomatoes give this sauce a tremendous depth of flavor. But if you want a quicker option, fresh tomatoes will do just fine.

My mother learned this dish when we lived in Holland in the late ’50s. It was part of the rijstafel—an Indonesian take-out feast of many dishes—that my parents used to have delivered to the house. We used to watch wide-eyed as a flurry of delivery guys carried in dish after dish stacked in round metal containers. When we gather as a family on Christmas and other special days, we rarely have turkey or ham, but more often rice and curry or bami goreng, a noodle dish, with these satés as an appetizer. It is still the favorite family snack. The pork marinade is effortless to put together. While the meat absorbs the flavors, you can stir together the spicy peanut sauce. I tend to grill the satés, but my mother actually cooks these on an old waffle iron that has a smooth side, not unlike a panini grill.

When I was little, my mom used to deep-fry tiny bay scallops and serve them with melted butter. One time I ate so many that I made myself sick. It was years before I could try another scallop! These days I like to serve large sea scallops, which are easy to sear and make for a beautiful presentation. What’s more, their rich, sweet taste marries well with so many ingredients that sometimes it’s hard to decide what to serve alongside. Here, I’ve paired them with spinach, bacon, and tomatoes for a quick one-skillet sauté that’s bright and festive. The bacon can be omitted, but let’s face it: everything is better with bacon, and here its rich, salty flavor is a nice foil for the sweet scallops. I recommend a nonstick pan, as the juices sometimes get a little syrupy and sticky.

This recipe is based on the much-loved Spanish dish called Gambas al Ajillo, or shrimp with garlic. The basil is not a traditional ingredient, but I like how its fresh flavor pairs with the sweet, garlicky shrimp. Smoked Spanish paprika, or pimentón, has a unique flavor and is well worth tracking down. You can find it at most specialty food stores, or in Latin markets. It’s typically much cheaper at the latter.

Who would have thought you could improve upon a good old-fashioned New Orleans shrimp boil? A former Bayona sous chef, Ashley Hykes, showed me it was possible. Serve these shrimp bathing in their colorful marinade in a pretty bowl, along with other appetizers, for a party, or serve them for lunch with deviled eggs, a big green salad, and some bread or croutons for soaking up the pleasingly tart juice perfumed with citrus and vinegar.

No self-respecting resident of Louisiana will need this recipe! Everyone in this state has his or her own method (complete with secret ingredients—I know one guy who uses Tang, the powdered orange drink) for boiling shrimp, crab, and crayfish. For outsiders, here’s a brief rundown of the basics. Start with the freshest, sweetest shrimp available. I love to add spicy sausage and potatoes to the pot, but by all means, omit or add what you like (even Tang). The peeling process may throw some people off, but that’s part of the fun. This recipe calls for 2 pounds of shrimp, so you can get a feel for it before you move up to the more common 20-pound party batch. If you can get your hands on some crabs or crayfish, you will need to go a bit stronger on the seasoning and the cooking time, as those hard shells need more spice and more time to absorb the other flavors.

These lend a spicy bite to just about any green salad, particularly Crispy Smoked Quail Salad with Bourbon-Molasses Dressing (p. 127). But they’re also a delicious snack to serve with any of the killer cocktails in the last chapter.

Don’t let your opinion of dolmades, stuffed grape leaves, rest on the ubiquitous canned versions, which are tasty but forgettable. Take the time to make these and you’ll be rewarded with a fragrant house and a satisfying savory snack for a party or simply for having on hand. Unlike most other versions I’ve had, this filling is brightly flavored and packed with aromatic ingredients—I add artichoke hearts, preserved lemon, and golden raisins. Pine nuts give these little guys a pleasing crunch, and I love the briny, herbal flavor that the grape leaves impart while they cook—this is the process that forms the sauce—in the lemony liquid.