Jalapeño

This slow-roasted pork dish came to me from my Bayona partner, Regina Keever. The succulent meat lends itself to two fantastic preparations. For a Latin-inspired meal, serve it with Green Rice (p. 309). Or make ciabatta sandwiches with Pickled Cabbage and Creole Mustard (p. 154), from the leftovers.

A sweet, hot pepper glaze is just the thing to complement the rich flavor of duck. In this recipe, the duck breast is scored, rubbed with herbs, and pan-seared. Be sure to get the pan nice and hot before adding the duck, to ensure a crispy, well-browned skin. A fine dice of jalapeño adds a bit more fire to the sauce, while red bell pepper offers sweetness. This dish can be served with any number of sides, from Honey-glazed Carrots and Turnips (p. 294) to Wild and Dirty Rice (p. 311).

Shrimp and okra go together like oysters and artichokes (which is to say, they’re made for each other). And to my mind it’s no coincidence that corn and tomatoes are at their peak around the same time as the okra. In this recipe, they all find themselves swimming happily in a broth scented with allspice and thyme, and zippy with fresh jalapeños. If you are leery of that much spice in the broth, leave out the jalapeños and just serve some chopped up alongside, for the daring ones among you.

These are great on quesadillas, black beans, and in Cornmeal-crusted Oyster and Black-eyed Pea Salad with Jalapeño Dressing (p. 123).

On its own, Jalapeño-roast Pork (p. 269) makes for an incredible meal. But these sandwiches, made from the leftover pork, are so delicious that you may end up roasting the shoulder just to make them. We served the sandwiches at Spice Inc. for two years. I originally learned this recipe from my partner Regina Keever, but the recipe has since been taken over by Jane Ruppel, our beloved office manager and resident party monster, who prepares it for virtually every Bayona get-together, by request. The meat can be used in countless ways and is simply irresistible. The pickled cabbage, spicy Creole mustard, and pickles cut the richness of the pork.

This is another dish that Ashley taught me. It’s too good not to share. Cornmeal-coated oysters are crisp-fried and placed atop a salad of black-eyed peas, scallions, and red peppers. A chiffonade of spinach and celery root adds additional flavor and crunch (but it’s the killer sweet, hot Jalapeño Dressing that steals the show). Feel free to add a few more handfuls of greens to make this a more substantial salad. This is a great lunch salad with a fat wedge of corn bread and a cold beer.

Because these crispy bean cakes are broiled rather than fried, the recipe doesn’t call for much oil, so the cakes contain less fat; they are also easier to prepare than fried versions.

This meal is just right for Father’s Day or Fourth of July or any night of the week. Don’t be tempted to skip the sauce—like the steak, it takes only 10 minutes to prepare, and the ingredients complement the spices in the steak rub.

There is one sandwich in the Vietnamese repertoire and it is a tour de force. Garlicky meats, marinated daikon and carrot, chiles, cucumber, and cilantro tucked into a baguette moistened with mayonnaise and Maggi Seasoning sauce, bánh mì merges European and Asian food traditions. Each mouthful reflects how Vietnamese cooks co-opted French ideas to create new foods. All bánh mì use the same basic framework of ingredients, though a minority of makers use margarine or butter instead of mayonnaise. At Vietnamese delis, you make the call on the main protein element. The dac biet (special) is basically “the works,” a smear of liver pâté and slices of various cold cuts that show off the art of Vietnamese charcuterie (pages 156 to 171). Follow the custom of Viet deli owners and use your imagination to fill the sandwich. Just make sure it is boldly flavored. Pieces of grilled lemongrass beef (page 28), oven-roasted chicken (page 80), five-spice pork steaks (page 143), or char siu pork (page 142; pictured here) are excellent. Seared or grilled firm tofu or left over roasted lamb or beef will work, too. The bread doesn’t have to be one of the airy Vietnamese baguettes made with wheat and rice flours. (In the past, the best baguettes in Vietnam were made from wheat flour only and displayed an amazing crumb and crust.) You can use a regular baguette (though neither sourdough nor too crusty) or a Mexican bolillo (torpedo-shaped roll).

This sauce is wonderful served on its own, but paired with Red Chile Sauce (opposite) and served with eggs (Blue Corn Fried Eggs, page 219) or fish or pork or chicken, it becomes known as Christmas. Why? Christmas is known for its red and green colors! In New Mexico restaurant lingo (Sante Fe to be exact), Christmas means a plate of half-red and half-green chile sauces. The New Mexico terminology has spread to some other states in the Southwest, such as Arizona and Texas.

Horseradish is the common link between the ketchup-based cocktail sauce you are used to and this, its Bar Americain reincarnation. Tart tomatillos are roasted and blended with garlic, red onion, jalapeños, and cilantro for a sauce indebted to the flavors of the American Southwest. The secret to its bright green hue is the addition of blanched and chopped spinach—the flavor isn’t noticeable, but the color certainly is.

Bob and Nancy Green live on the land Bob’s pioneer father settled in 1881 and Bob has been a rancher for most of his life. Now in her eighties, Nancy continues to indulge her lifelong passion for entertaining. She favors groups up to sixteen, because she can seat them all “gracefully” at her table without having to round up chairs from other parts of the house. Nancy keeps her guests happy with a good supply of cornbread, baked in a Texas-shaped skillet.