Corn

Vegetables get plenty of smoky flavor when you grill them, so there’s no need to reach for the salt shaker. Feel free to pop some other vegetables, such as yellow squash and mushrooms, onto the grill, too.

This pairing of two all-time favorite vegetables is simple but colorful.

Here’s a good way to use up some of that leftover holiday turkey!

Ready in no time, this chunky and spicy soup requires very little cleanup.

This version of a classic clambake was designed a La Caja China box roaster. If you don’t have one, use a large stockpot layered with 4 inches of seaweed, then loaded and cooked as directed, using a wood-fired grill or a wood-fired oven. Cover and cook for about 1 hour, then remove the lid and cook until tender. Note: You’ll need about 5 pounds (1 gallon) of seaweed for this recipe.

This is the perfect tart to celebrate summer. It showcases the ripest heirloom tomatoes, fresh corn, and basil. You can use any tomatoes, but I like to use a mixture of colors. The corn kernels add crunch and a burst of flavor. The tang of the goat cheese pulls all the tastes together.

This chowder is easy to make and requires only one pot! The salmon comes out tender and is a good match with the dill and potatoes. For a smokier flavor, roast the ears of corn directly over the fire before removing the kernels. If you don’t have fresh salmon, frozen will work fine, or you can use smoked salmon. If using smoked salmon, cut back on the salt for seasoning.

Traditional chowders all start off with a hearty soup base of onions and potatoes, and that makes a good soup just by itself. To this fragrant base you then add chunks of fish, or clams, or corn, or whatever else seems appropriate.

Loaded Cornbread is the cornbread for a crowd and essential for a big barbecue. Dense and moist with Cheddar cheese, cream-style corn, and buttermilk, it can be baked in advance and cut into neat squares. Unlike traditional skillet cornbread that’s best eaten hot out of the oven, Loaded Cornbread travels well and tastes fine at room temperature. The jalapeños are up to you. Substitute a chopped fresh mild green chile or even a can of them. The other substitution is yogurt for buttermilk. Again, if the batter seems too thick, add a little water.

Min was first encouraged to make this dish when her fridge was jammed with leftover grilled corn on the cob. We liked this salad so much that now she doesn’t wait for a summer corn surplus—she cheats with a bag of niblets from the freezer. Frozen white shoepeg corn and frozen baby peas are two of Min’s constant freezer staples for ultraquick sides.

Adding a little sugar to frozen vegetables is an old country kitchen trick for turning the clock back to summer. It occurred to us that revitalizing frozen corn in some sugar water is essentially a sweet brine. The other trick is plenty of butter, just like corn on the cob. The first time we tried this was for a winter cheater barbecue party with piles of cheater brisket, pulled pork, and hot drums. Everybody loved the cute little cups of peppery sweet corn. It tasted remarkably fresh and was loads cheaper than out-of-season fresh corn or frozen ears. Corn absolutely goes with every kind of American barbecue.

A traditional low-country boil is a whole lot easier in a kitchen than on a deck with all that huge pot, outdoor burner, and propane tank business. Usually, the corn on the cob and the new potatoes are cooked right in the boil with everything else, but in a regular kitchen stockpot, we think it’s easier to cook the vegetables separately. We like the extra depth that a little bottled smoke adds to the shrimp boil.

At Lucques, we search out the heirloom varieties of corn, available all summer long from our local farmers’ markets. This soup is spiced with jalapeño and cilantro and topped with avocado cream and lime. The key to its silky texture is blending it long enough at high speed and adding enough liquid to achieve the consistency of heavy cream. Although customers swear this rich soup must have cream in it, the only cream you’ll find is in the topping that garnishes the soup: a delicious purée of avocado, crème fraîche, and lime juice.

Gnocchi is one of those dishes that many home cooks shy away from. Whether they’re made of potatoes or cheese, the process seems mysterious—until, of course, you finally take the plunge and make a batch yourself at home. These ricotta gnocchi are quick and easy and the perfect launch into your gnocchi-making career. Once you get the hang of rolling them off the tines of the fork, there’s nothing to it. And when you’ve become the accomplished gnocchi-maker you never thought you’d be, you’ll find all sorts of ways to serve them. Try them with a fresh tomato sauce, or simply toss them in this sage brown butter.

One of my favorite dinners growing up was my mother’s veal piccata. Her recipe came from an old cookbook called The Pleasures of Italian Cooking, by Romeo Salta, a gift to her from my father. My father had been a devoted fan of Romeo Salta when he was the chef at Chianti in Los Angeles in the fifties. Back then, it was a swinging Italian joint with red-checkered tablecloths, opera 78s blasting, and red wine flowing into the late hours. My mother’s (and Romeo’s) veal was pounded thin, sautéed, and drenched in a lemony caper-butter sauce. There’s nothing wrong with that classic rendition, but, to add another layer of flavor, I brown the butter and finish it with salsa verde, a pungent purée of capers, anchovies, garlic, oregano, and tons of parsley. To get the finest, crispy crust on the veal, I dredge it in Wondra, a finely milled flour sold at most supermarkets. This dish is home-style Italian comfort food at its best.

When I was growing up, my mom and sister were obsessed with lobster. My father and I just never got it. But on both their birthdays, my father would take us all to the chosen lobster spot of the moment. While Jessica and my mom happily cracked their way through dinner, hardly glancing up from their plates, Dad and I would glumly saw through our landlubber specials. I admit I felt a little envious watching Jessica and Mom picking apart their matching dinners, knowing that I would never have that lobster bond with my mother. Normally, my mother prefers her lobster plain and simple—steamed and served with lemon and drawn butter. But one Mother’s Day, I took liberty, hoping to entice her with this rendition of a classic chopped salad. It worked; while we’re still on opposite sides of the table at the lobster shack, we both get excited about this salad.

André Soltner is one of my culinary heroes. I admire his interpretations of regional dishes from his Alsatian homeland, which are refined enough to serve in one of New York City’s fanciest French restaurants yet still true to their humble origins. Only a great chef can strike that balance. I discovered his recipe for salmon sautéed in a bacon-and-egg “batter” and served with a brown butter sauce in the middle of summer, so I added corn to the sautéed cabbage for a sweet seasonal touch. The tart brown butter–vinegar sauce beautifully balances the smoky bacon and rich salmon.