Dairy Free

Dark, glazed, and bittersweet, this is another marvel of simple cooking from Southeast Asia. It takes no longer than a classic European chicken sauté, yet when you make it you will impress not only your guests but yourself. You can stop after step 2 and have a Thai-style dish, which is good, or proceed to step 3 and have one of the best Vietnamese-style chicken dishes you’ve ever tasted. Either way, serve with rice. For information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla), see page 500.

A near no-brainer, as long as you have Tomato-Chipotle Salsa on hand. Even if you don’t, not a lot of trouble, and one of the best grilled chicken recipes I know. See the variations for an even faster way to make this and one that works as an appetizer. Don’t serve this, however, to people who do not like hot food. There is no taming chipotles, though most people find them delicious. You need rice here; Arroz a la Mexicana (page 517) would be ideal. Some slices of (cooling) avocado would be welcome as well.

No one does grilled chicken better than in Southeast Asia, where it seems to come straight from heaven. The key ingredients were all exotic and hard to find here just ten years ago, but now you can make this routinely. Once you try it, you probably will. This is wonderful teamed with Sticky Rice (page 508) and Green Papaya Salad (page 174). But it’s fine with any rice dish and vegetable, too, because it is really a star.

It’s not much different from an American steak, but the combination of cut (almost always a T-bone, though occasionally you’ll see ribeye), olive oil, and lemon juice marks this preparation as distinctly Tuscan. If you can find a piece of dry-aged prime meat, go for it. I love the combination of steak and bread, and of course tomato or other salad, but you can use any typical steak side dishes you like—even in Italy they might serve this with French fries.

From Southeast Asia via New York, a recipe based on one developed by my sometime coauthor and longtime Asian hand, Jean-Georges Vongerichten. Included here not because it is “authentic” in the true sense but because the flavor is truly Thai and it’s among the best Thai-inspired chicken recipes I know. Serve it with Sticky Rice (page 508). For information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla, see page 500.

Slightly more complicated than the French version on page 303, resulting in more tender meat but less crisp skin. I’d make this with leg and thigh pieces rather than including breasts—which almost invariably dry out during braising—but the choice is yours. The sauce will keep things relatively moist in any case. This is great with risotto (page 521) and a vegetable dressed with good olive oil.

I was in a restaurant in Martinique where this sauce—which translates as “dog sauce,” for reasons I don’t want to know—was served on everything, from kidneys to chicken to vegetables. I liked it best on steak. As with so many Caribbean dishes, this would be served with Coconut Rice and Beans (page 516). Other cuts of meat you can use here: almost anything, from liver to bone-in dark-meat chicken, to pork chops or ribs.

Tenderloin—most commonly sold as filet mignon—has just about the least flavor of any cut of beef, but it is wonderfully tender and juicy, and it sure takes well to this sauce, which everyone seems to love. I’m not usually a big fan of long marinating periods, but here it seems to make a big difference; the miso completely changes the flavor of the meat in a spectacular way. I grill these, but you can broil the meat or roast it at 500°F for just a few minutes. (In any case, cook until the interior of the meat is about 125°F.) Other cuts of meat you can use here: ribeye; pork tenderloin, cut into medallions as you would the filet.

I have never seen this wonderful stew appear in any other cuisine, but it is a great one, the brininess of the clams vastly improving the taste of the chicken. This dish is often served with Peasant-Style Potatoes (page 477).

Of all the powerful ingredients in these burgers— lemongrass, shallots, garlic, chile, and nam pla (called nuoc mam in Vietnamese; see page 500 for information on these Asian fish sauces)—none survives the cooking as well as the lemongrass, whose distinctive scent and flavor override all the others, reducing them to bit players. Lemongrass is changed less by cooking than most seasonings, and this goes for its woody texture too, which is why you remove the tough outer layers. You can grind the tender cores with the meat instead of chopping them if you like. Serve the burgers on rolls, rice noodles, or salad. Other cuts of meat you can use here: ground beef sirloin or chuck, which may be combined with pork if you like.

Often the most effective marinating happens not before but after cooking. This technique, usually called escabeche, was once used to preserve food. It’s really a form of pickling: hot food was put into hot liquid containing a good deal of vinegar. Treated thus, it would keep for some time (if canned, for a long time). Since we don’t need escabeche for preserving, the postgrilling marinating time can be as little as a few minutes, but it can also be as long as overnight—it doesn’t make much difference; in either case, it produces a highly flavored, prepared-in-advance, room-temperature dish that is good as part of a buffet with a variety of other dishes (none of which should be noticeably acidic). Other cuts of meat you can use here: any cut of chicken, bone in or out (be careful not to overcook), or mackerel or other fish (typically floured and sautéed or fried before marinating).

A tagine is the name of both a stew and the pot it’s served in. A North African specialty, it differs from other stews primarily in its sweet spicing. This one, featuring chicken, is bright yellow and alluring. Serve it with rice, warmed pitas, or crusty bread.

Here’s how you really make cochinita pibil: Dig a pit and build a large wood fire in it. Cover the wood with rocks. When the rocks crack, they’re ready. Rub the pork as directed here, then wrap it in banana leaves. Put in the pit, then cover with leaves and douse the whole thing with water. Cover the pit. Let sit for a day or so. Eat. Or try my method, which is not bad at all.

Among the most mistreated and overused terms in cooking is jerked, which, at least when I had it in the central Jamaican highlands—Cockpit Country, as it’s called—is essentially a beautifully seasoned pork (or, originally, boar) shoulder slow-cooked over coals. (You cannot make a “jerked” pork tenderloin; it will simply dry out.) The distinctive flavors are nutmeg, allspice (which is called pimento in the islands), and habanero peppers. If possible, crack a nutmeg into pieces and toast about half of it in a skillet until fragrant, with about a tablespoon of allspice berries, then grind them together. If not, use dried spices as directed here. If you have a gas grill, this will be easy; but if at all possible, set up an aluminum tray of soaked wood chips over the side with the heat and replenish as necessary. If you use charcoal, use real charcoal instead of briquettes if you can. Serve this with Coconut Rice and Beans (page 516) and, if you dare, Habanero-Garlic Salsa (page 611). Other cuts of meat you can use here: bone-in chicken legs (cooking time will be considerably shorter, about 1 hour); spareribs, though not traditional, are also good.

This soupy rice and chicken stew is a cousin to Arroz con Pollo and Paella (pages 293 and 520), but it’s much looser, and you must eat it right away; otherwise, the rice will absorb too much of the liquid and the stew will lose its soupy texture. For the ham, it’s best to buy a thick slice and cut it into chunks; you don’t want shreds of thinly sliced ham. Very lean bacon or a piece of smoked pork will work nicely too. Some ideas for varying this dish: Don’t add the chopped tomatoes, but put them in the bottom of each bowl before adding the soup; garnish with chopped fresh avocado; add fresh lime juice, onion, or chopped fresh cilantro leaves to taste, just before serving; or serve with chopped chiles in adobo (from a can) or Tomato-Chipotle Salsa (page 611).

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.

In India, it should be noted, much “mutton” is actually goat, and—except in the most expensive restaurants or wealthiest homes—this spice mixture would be used on meat that would later be braised in a yogurt sauce, much like the one for the meatballs on page 424. But with our relatively young, tender lamb, you can just rub the meat with the spices and grill. (If you refrigerate for an hour or a day, the taste will be somewhat improved, but it’s not imperative.) I find this dish just as elegant as the French version, page 358, especially when it is on the spicy but mild side, with the chiles omitted. Serve with simple Pilaf (page 513) and, if you like, Curried Carrots (page 451). Other cuts of meat you can use here: beef steaks like skirt, sirloin (New York) strip, or ribeye are all good treated this way.

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).

This recipe doesn’t demand anything particularly exotic to produce an authentically Malaysian flavor. But instead of relying on canned curry paste as so many similar dishes do, this one offers a good deal more fragrance and sweetness by starting with fresh spices. If you’ve got access to a good market and would like to try a more unusual chicken curry from Southeast Asia, try the Red-Cooked Chicken (preceding recipe) or the Braised Duck or Chicken with Fresh Curry Paste on page 328, which incorporates Thai ingredients like dried shrimp or fish sauce. This curry is great with white rice but even better with the Malaysian coconut rice, Nasi Lemak, on page 515. You can make this curry a day in advance—keep it covered in the refrigerator overnight and warm it gently over low heat before serving.

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).