Gluten Free

We serve these chips, an all-American classic, with our Lobster Club (page 50) for lunch at Bar Americain, but you could serve them with any sandwich—or just sit in front of the TV and eat a big bowl of them on their own. Making your own potato chips and seasoning does require a little work, but the end result is definitely worth it. That said, if you don’t want to make homemade potato chips, you can substitute your favorite brand of plain potato chips, spread them in an even layer on a baking sheet, and heat in a 325°F oven for 5 minutes before tossing them in the barbecue seasoning.

Dipping French fries in mayonnaise is a European conceit. The French and Belgians wouldn’t serve their pommes frites with anything else! If you haven’t given it a try, you should—the combination of hot, crisp, salty fries and smooth, rich mayonnaise is dangerously addictive. I dust these fries with a healthy dose of spicy black pepper before sending them out of Bar Americain’s kitchen. The familiar spice has quite a kick, the level of which you can adjust to suit your taste. The smoked red pepper mayonnaise is richly flavored with smoky chipotle in adobo and sweet roasted red pepper. The mayonnaise comes together in an instant in the food processor. Try it on your favorite sandwich, as a dip for veggies, with fish . . . all it takes is one dip and you’ll find yourself whipping it up time and time again.

I always tell people that I want Bar Americain to feel French but taste American. This is a classic bistro or brasserie dish that you would find in Europe, and by making it my own, perhaps with a California Zinfandel wine and vinegar, I think we manage to do just that—feel French, taste American. This is an incredibly comforting dish capable of warming your whole being on a cold fall or winter’s day. I like the spicy heat of merguez sausage in this dish, but you could certainly use another variety of lamb or even pork sausage if you so choose.

You could certainly serve these hash browns with eggs, but I didn’t find the inspiration for this dish at my local diner. These belong right next to a juicy steak. I mix sweet caramelized onions with cooked potatoes seasoned with smoky paprika. Cooked in butter and oil, the bottom layer of potatoes becomes amazingly crisp and is browned to perfection. Serve this bottom side up so that everyone can see what crispy potato goodness awaits.

Tender veal is most commonly served in lighter preparations because of its delicate nature, but the porterhouse cut is substantial enough to allow for a truly rich and deeply flavorful sauce such as this one. Intensely sweet dried figs steeped in wine join a reduction of wine and veal stock to form a syrupy glaze that coats the veal in flavor. Cabernet vinegar (though another red wine vinegar will do) balances the figs’ inherent sweetness with its bright acidity. Uncommon as they are, veal porterhouse chops make this a memorable, special-occasion dish, but you could certainly substitute thick-cut pork chops with excellent results.

Montauk is a town at the easternmost tip of New York’s Long Island, and its waters are a veritable playground for both commercial and weekend fishermen. Wild striped bass practically jump into their boats, and from there it’s a short journey to the plates of appreciative diners. This dish is my salute to those responsible for the freshest fish around. Along with briny clams and succulent lobster from its waters, Montauk is home to some spectacular roadside stands and farmers’ markets, where in summer you’ll find sweet corn and juicy tomatoes.

Butterfish is so named on account of its rich—yes, buttery—flavor. Also known as Pacific pompano, its texture is tender, so long as you don’t overcook the fish. (There is an Atlantic pompano as well, but it is much smaller and is not a suitable substitute.) The sour orange glaze is influenced by Cuban cuisine and can be made with either sour oranges or a mixture of sweet orange and lime juices. It’s a highly flavorful sauce and a perfect match for the rich fish. I find that the majority of seafood dishes are best suited to the warm weather months and don’t fit well into the heartier menus of fall and winter. This assertively flavored dish is an exception to that rule and pairs well with the ingredients and sides of the cool seasons, such as the tender Roasted Brussels Sprouts, Pomegranate, Hazelnuts (page 177) I serve with it at the restaurant.

Dirty rice is a traditional Cajun dish of white rice cooked with chopped chicken livers. The liver darkens, or “dirties,” the rice and infuses it with its mild yet distinctive taste. My version is classically flavored but prepared in a not-so-traditional manner: I use Arborio rice, cook it as I would a risotto, and fold in cooked wild rice as one of the last steps so that its nutty flavor and chewy crunch run throughout the dish. I think of this as a Louisiana-style dish, and the southern flavors of deep bourbon and sweet, crunchy pecans are fitting accomplices to the rich duck and aromatic rice.

One of the most popular seafood dishes in France must be steamed mussels with fries. You will find moules frites in every kind of restaurant, from beachside cafés to, yes, Parisian brasseries. The seasonings do of course vary, but the most traditional preparation (moules marinière) steams the mussels in a broth of white wine, herbs, and some form of onions and/or garlic. The same ingredients serve as the jumping-off point for the fragrant green chile broth in this dish. Mild in terms of heat but heady with peppery flavor, a puree of roasted poblano chiles bestows the flavorful broth with a south-of-the-border twist that’s further enhanced and enriched by creamy coconut milk. Serving these mussels with good crusty bread—as well as the fries—is a must. Once you’ve finished the succulent mussels and crisp, salty fries, you’ll want that bread to sop up every last delicious drop of mouthwatering broth from your bowl.

Florida, and in particular the city of Miami, has been home to the vibrant culture of Cuban immigrants for generations. Their cuisine has put its stamp on the state and on this dish, where black beans, flavored with chipotle, are pureed into an earthy, slightly chunky sauce that makes the bed for red snapper fillets encrusted in a crisp shell of green plantains. Cool and spicy jalapeño crema and a relish of sweet mango and creamy avocado garnish the fish with tropical continuity.

This black pepper vinegar sauce is very much an ode to the vinegar-based barbecue sauce served in the restaurants and homes of eastern North Carolina. When you hear barbecue referred to as “Carolina style,” you know it means that your pulled pork, ribs, or chicken will be paired with a tangy, often mustard-laced, and always tomato-free vinegary sauce. If you have the wherewithal—and the will—to cold-smoke your chicken as we do in the restaurant, by all means do so, but simply roasting the chicken in the oven will more than suffice. Either way, you’ll be looking at an incredibly flavorful chicken dish.

This dish is a celebration of the Pacific Northwest’s Native American heritage. Native Americans were the first to cook salmon in this way, slowly roasting the dense flesh on cedar planks arranged around an open fire. (You can get the planks at a hardware store.) A light smoky essence permeates the fish as it cooks, boosting the flavor quotient of rich salmon. In addition to the salmon that run though its waters, the Pacific Northwest is known for its lush and balanced Pinot Noir wine. A reduction of the wine is the basis of a darkly fruity, savory sauce that finishes the dish.

Fish tacos originated in Mexico’s Baja California and spread up the coast to southern California. Versions featuring deep-fried fish are the most common, but I prefer to grill light, flaky red snapper for these tacos. The grill gives the fish a touch of smoky, charred flavor, which balances the fresh garnishes of tart tomatillo-avocado relish and crunchy red cabbage slaw. Cabbage is a traditional garnish for fish tacos and keeps its crunch factor long past the point when lettuce would have wilted. I make my slaw from a mix of delicate, pale green napa and deep purple red cabbages. Sweet basil may seem an unexpected choice, but its flavor complements the citrus juice in the slaw’s vinaigrette and offsets the assertive cilantro in the charred tomato salsa.

This is my tip-of-the-hat to the picturesque city of Charleston, South Carolina. Each time I visit I am charmed by the city’s citizens, its architecture, and its Low Country cuisine, in particular the sumptuous shrimp and grits. Originally a humble breakfast made by and for the local shrimp fishermen, this dish of creamy grits and plump shrimp deserves a night out on the town. Sharp cheddar cheese and heavy cream enrich the grits with lush flavor. Thick matchsticks of smoky bacon are rendered crisp for a salty garnish, and the flavorful fat is used to sauté the sweet shrimp. Lemony thyme and chopped garlic season the shrimp to savory perfection.