Dairy Free

Just in case you’ve been wondering what to do with that walnut oil that someone gave you for Christmas …

When I was a kid, I used to think that beets tasted just like the dirt they were grown in. Happily, I am older, wiser, less fussy, and can appreciate the sweet earthiness of these beautiful vegetables—and I do find that dressings made with a little fruit vinegar bring out the sweet and temper the earthiness. A bright, tangy goat cheese is such a perfect match that it’s become ubiquitous on bistro menus.

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.

Fried wonton or gyoza wrappers, available in the frozen section of most Asian markets, make fantastic chips to scoop up savory ingredients. They are delicious served with any Asian-inspired tartare or seviche, with Asian Guacamole (p. 66), or as a garnish for just about any salad that would benefit from crunch and nutty sesame seeds.

Fusion cuisine gets scoffed at a lot, but it can work beautifully, as this dish, with its Latin and Asian influences, attests. From the marriage of avocado, cucumber, limes, chiles, garlic, and cilantro (known as coriander everywhere else but the Americas), Peppered Tuna with Asian Guacamole was born. The cucumber lightens up the avocado and adds a bit of crunch. Hoisin Dipping Sauce rounds out the peppery warmth with sweet spiciness. Serve four plates as a first course, or top Sesame Wonton Crisps (p. 89) with a slice of the tuna and a dollop of the guacamole and serve on a platter to make an elegant party snack.

I remember being terribly impressed the first time I was served these at a friend’s house in the early ’80s. At that time, it was exotic and ambitious to attempt Chinese food at home. Times have changed, thanks in large part to the late Barbara Tropp, the famed chef of China Moon Café in San Francisco, whose wonderful books, like The Modern Art of Chinese Cooking, have made cooking authentic Asian food at home much less daunting. These crispy, flavorful little dumplings make a great starter or hors d’oeuvre if you’re feeding a crowd. The filling multiplies easily, and once you get the hang of filling the dumplings, you can whip up a lot in a relatively short period of time. If you’re a vegetarian, leave the pork and shrimp out and add some sautéed shiitake mushrooms instead. The tart dipping sauce is the perfect complement to the rich filling.

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.

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.

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.