Dairy Free

Those of you who love steak tartare—and there seems to be very little middle ground between those who do and those who don’t—will be positively enamored of this dish. This is a time when the quality of your ingredients is paramount—purchase the filet from a butcher whom you trust to give you the best selection as opposed to something prewrapped in the market. The egg for the mustard sauce must also be as fresh as possible as it is used raw. Savory anchovies add an extra layer of flavor to the creamy sauce, which pops with whole grain mustard. Crunchy, acidic cornichons, fresh jalapeño—an American touch—and shallots inject the lush tartare with flavor and texture.

What could be more American than a pot of baked beans? From “Beantown’s” own Boston baked beans to one of the South’s favorite sides for a plate of barbecue, baked beans are an integral part of our culinary heritage. Molasses is a traditional ingredient here; its dark, rich flavor and thick texture give the dish its characteristic sweetness and consistency. I use a little less than most folks and supplement it with a generous dose of honey to mellow it out and allow the rest of the flavorings—dark rum and barbecue sauce among them—to shine. My southwestern culinary leanings are what prompt me to use black beans. I like their somewhat firm texture, but you could certainly use traditional navy beans if you’d prefer. The fat and smoky flavor of bacon is essential. Double-smoked bacon gives you even more of that amazing taste.

At first glance this appears to be a steak tartare presented just as you would find it in any French bistro. Small mounds of finely chopped egg whites, their creamy yellow yolks, sharp red onion, and salty capers surround a carefully shaped ring of chopped red meat, all ready to be mixed and scooped up with crisp rounds of toast. But instead of minced steak, the star of this tartare is fresh tuna. Smoky chipotle puree and pungent Dijon mustard are blended with smooth olive oil so that they can coat each dice of tuna with flavor. Fresh green onions and delicate shallots contribute a soft onion flavor to the tartare, while the briny capers and fresh parsley add brightness. Delicious as is, the deceptive garnishes are what make this a playful American dish.

I first brought this steak out at Bobby Flay Steak in Atlantic City. It caused enough of a stir to prompt me to serve it at Bar Americain, where, to the delight of our patrons, it is Saturday’s plate of the day. Flavorful, juicy strip steaks are massaged with a chile-laden spice rub and topped with sweet golden caramelized onions—because I definitely order my Philly cheese steak “wit” onions! The cheese choice has always been more of a dilemma for me—the flavor of provolone is far superior to that of classic Cheez Whiz, but I love the smooth, melted texture of the Whiz. I created my own answer to that age-old dilemma for this steak: the provolone sauce is creamy, luscious, and full of sharp cheese flavor. Seriously, this steak is drool-worthy good.

Brussels sprouts used to be up there with lima beans on the list of vegetables people claimed to hate, but I think they’re having an overdue resurgence in popularity. These roasted Brussels sprouts are tender yet firm and have a wonderful nutty, earthy flavor. Rich hazelnuts add texture, as does the tart pop of garnet-colored pomegranate seeds. This is a beautiful fall side dish.

Collard greens are a point of southern pride. Any barbecue or soul food restaurant worth its salt has a place for these mustardy-flavored greens. In the South, collard greens are typically cooked with a ham hock or smoked turkey wings to give a great smoky flavor to the greens and the broth—or pot liquor as it is referred to in local parlance. You can definitely add either to this recipe, but I like to use chipotle chiles to give not only smokiness but also a little heat to this dish. I prefer my collard greens to retain some bite and cook them until tender, not to melting. The greens have a natural sweetness that is both accentuated and balanced by the finishing splash of apple cider vinegar. Sweet, smoky, and slightly vinegary, these collard greens definitely deliver a touch of soul to the table.

Brine-packed green peppercorns have a sharp, fresh, and somewhat fruity flavor that is less pungent than you might imagine coming from a peppercorn. Roasting asparagus to crisp-tender deepens its “green” flavor, and the dark blisters it acquires in the oven are especially tasty. Asparagus has a distinctive flavor, and this vinaigrette walks a delicate line, standing up to that flavor without overwhelming it. This simple side is a favorite of diners at Bar Americain.

A favorite cut of butchers, hanger steak is also the steak of choice for the quintessential French bistro dish steak frites. It may not have the cachet of a hulking porterhouse or a pricey filet, but what it lacks in name it more than makes up for in taste. Hanger steak has a rich, beefy flavor that is enhanced here by a savory rub. Bar Americain’s steak sauce is a balanced blend of the sweet and sharp notes of molasses, honey, Dijon mustard, and horseradish. You could serve this steak with Fries Americain (page 164) for your own steak frites, or you could make it the centerpiece of an American steakhouse meal by pairing it with Brooklyn Hash Browns (page 163) and Creamed Kale (page 169). (Both the rub and the steak sauce are available for purchase at bobbyflay.com.)

This is barbecue belt cooking all the way. I don’t care if you’re in Austin, Texas, or Manhattan, New York—if ribs are on the menu, you’ve got to roll up your shirt sleeves and have a big stack of napkins ready. This dish has New Yorkers doing just that when it makes its weekly appearance at Bar Americain. Racks of meaty ribs are dressed up with a smoky spice rub for extra flavor. The rich barbecue sauce, spiked with the molasseslike flavor of bourbon, will leave even the most refined diners licking their fingers. It wouldn’t be proper barbecue without some corn bread to mop up every last delicious bit of flavor from the plate, and I like to serve this dish with a savory tomato one.

Ray Charles must have been in my head when I designed this dish, because it’s all about Georgia. The green tomato–peach relish is a natural, and not only because both ingredients are beloved by Georgians. The tartness of the green tomatoes is evenly matched by the honey sweetness of the peaches, and the resulting relish is fresh, incredibly flavorful, and totally balanced. Pork tenderloin is lean, has very little fat, and cooks quickly, so your kitchen stays cool while you eat well. This really is a wonderful summer dish.

I don’t know why people seem surprised by this one; it makes perfect sense to me! Lobster and potatoes have each been the starring ingredient in their own salads for ages—in this recipe, they share double billing, resulting in a dish that is infinitely better than either of the individual salads that inspired it. Besides the lobster, thin-skinned and buttery fingerling potatoes give the potato salad a major upgrade. The mayonnaise-based dressing features a blend of pungent horseradish, Dijon mustard, and bright lemon juice. I love anise-flavored tarragon with lobster; its delicate leaves are folded in along with lemony parsley right before serving.

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.

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.

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.