Sauce

Farther south in South Carolina and Georgia, tangy yellow mustard predominates.

Nashville Crossroads is an even balance of vinegar, ketchup, and sugar, combining the influences from the Carolinas to our east and from Memphis to our west. It’s our number one pick to brush on Ultimate Cheater Pork Ribs (page 61) and pretty much any cheater pork. Even dry-rubbed Memphis ribs enjoy a bath at the crossroads.

Heating up in the desert sun, chipotles bring the smoke; lemon takes over for the vinegar.

Heading west toward Missouri, the sauce darkens, deepens, and sweetens, thanks to molasses and bottled smoke.

Heading west toward Tennessee on I-40, Pink Vinegar is more voluptuous, kinder, and gentler thanks to a little ketchup and more sugar.

A simple-to-make and delectable little paste with which to dress just-cooked pasta, to spoon into vegetable soups, to thin with milk or vegetable stock into, itself, a fine soup, to stuff into fat, ripe tomatoes, to present alongside roasted meat or fish, to spread on great chunks of olive-oil-toasted bread, to eat with a spoon while waiting for bread to bake.

It seems unclear why a dish characteristic of Napoli should be called after a Ligurian port. Some say it’s because a Genovese sailor cooked it for some locals and the goodness of it was hailed throughout the hungry city. Others will tell you that Genovese is nothing more than a torturing of Ginevrina—of Geneva—hence giving a Swiss chef, one from the tribe of the Bourbons’ monzù, no doubt, credit for the sauce (page 84). The truth of its origins, adrift forever, holds less fascination, I think, than the patently simple recipe and the lovely, lush sort of texture the meat takes on from its long, slow dance in the pot.

This delicious salsa is great on corned-beef sandwiches as well as on grilled lamb, veal, or even a melted-Gruyère sandwich.

This sauce will keep for 2 weeks in the refrigerator. Try it on sandwiches and with cheese, eggs, grilled fish, and roasted meats.

Instead of using cream or half-and-half in this classic dessert sauce, I prefer using milk. It keeps the sauce light, tasty, and simple, but the mixture will not appear as thick as some other versions of crème anglaise. This can be served with any dessert, but I especially like it over fresh fruit.

The trio of sugar, cream, and butter can’t be beat. In its liquid form here, it can be drizzled on desserts—or even breakfast treats.