Lime

You’ll find strongly seasoned, crunchy pork everywhere in Latin America, and it’s always irresistible.

I had something like this on a visit to Bangkok, chicken with a creamy but spicy lime sauce. At first I thought the rich texture had come from a pan reduction or even a béchamel-like sauce, but I detected the faint taste of coconut and realized it was little more than coconut milk spiked with lime. With canned coconut milk, it can be made in less than a half hour.

Once in martinique I ate at a restaurant that was so simple that almost all of the food—chicken, tuna, quail, pork, and veal kidneys—was grilled. Not only that; it was all served with the same thin, powerful sauce, made of lime, scallion, chile, and garlic, with loads of allspice. It was the allspice that made the sauce unusual, but there was more to it than that: the garlic and scallion looked uncooked but had lost their harshness and become easily digestible. Furthermore, the base of the sauce was not oil, but water. With the help of a friend who was born on Martinique, I was able to duplicate the sauce at home. It’s called sauce au chien, which means “dog sauce” (a fact I chose not to research too aggressively). And it’s great with almost anything grilled.

This is a Southeast Asian–style preparation, mildly sweet and mouth-puckeringly sour. It’s also ridiculously fast; if you start some rice before tackling the shrimp, they will both be done at about the same time, twenty minutes later. (This assumes your shrimp are already peeled, a task that will take you about ten minutes and one that should be undertaken before cooking the rice.) For best flavor, see if you can find head-on shrimp; they make for a more impressive presentation, and it’s fun to suck the juices out of the heads themselves (which, I realize, is not something that everyone enjoys). But none of these assets is worth making head-on shrimp a sticking point. Note that this technique will work with scallops or cut-up squid; each will take slightly less time to cook than the shrimp.

Sometimes a simple salad features such powerful flavors that by adding a couple of straightforward ingredients a whole meal appears as if by magic. Here the starting place is a Southeast Asian–style cucumber salad, with a dressing made from lime juice, lemongrass, fish sauce (called nam pla in Thailand and nuoc mam in Vietnam), and a few other strong seasonings. This dressing commingles perfectly with the natural juices of the cucumbers to moisten the greens. Top all with grilled scallops—or other fish or meat—and you create an easy one-dish meal whose flavor really jumps off the plate. It looks lovely, too, especially if your cucumbers are good enough to leave unpeeled. And (although not by design, I assure you), this salad is extremely low in fat.

Limeade is popular throughout Asia and often served salty. It will take some experimentation on your part to determine whether you like it really salty—in which case you should reduce the sugar substantially—or sweet, like lemonade. You might be surprised; salty limeade is usually considered more refreshing (and makes a good substitute for sports drinks). You can omit the salt entirely to make standard limeade.

The real thing, not the frozen kind, an elegant and delicious drink, especially when made with good aged dark rum.

The classic rum drink of the fifties. To make a Dark and Stormy, use dark rum and ginger ale.

I have had more bad mojitos in the last couple of years—since they became popular—than I had had in my entire life previously. This is the real thing and a fantastic cocktail. There should be enough mint to chew on.

Here are two versions of this delicious sweet-and-sour dish, which is prepared at roadside stands and restaurants on many Caribbean islands: Pan-cook it in the winter, grill it in the summer. Serve it with Coconut Rice and Beans (page 516).

Like the preceding dish, this one is wickedly strong tasting, not fiery-hot but potent with garlic, onions (which are salted to “kill” their harshness), and lime. Not for the faint of heart, but many people (including me) love it. You can use any firm-fleshed white fish: halibut, swordfish, striped bass, red snapper, and so on. Ideally, you’d serve this with Mexican Radish Salad (page 172), along with some beautiful tomatoes. Rice and beans would also be good.

Limes and hot weather go together; I first had this at a three-walled restaurant in a Yucatán port on the Gulf of Mexico. I loved it immediately, and I love it still. It works just as well with shrimp as it does with flatfish. As for the chiles, the amount is your call. I like just a touch of heat—a pinch of cayenne does the trick for me—but this dish is often prepared scorchingly hot. Serve with rice (Mexican Rice, page 517, is good), or tortillas.

The hardest part of making these beauties is waiting for the plantains to turn black, though if you live in a neighborhood with a Latin market, you can probably buy them that way. Otherwise, buy the ripest (yellowest, with spots of black) plantains you can find and let them sit on your counter until they have turned black with no traces of yellow. To peel, cut off the tips, then cut crosswise into thirds; make a slit in the skin of each piece, then remove the skin. For Plantain and Meat Casserole (page 420), cut the plantains into thirds and then split each piece lengthwise—rather than cutting them crosswise—before sautéing.

You have an aesthetic choice to make in preparing this dish, which is great as part of a cool meal in summer. Add a couple of Asian-style salads, like Tomato Salad with Ginger (page 173) or Green Papaya Salad (page 174), and you’re in business. The coconut sauce, with its sugar, lemongrass, and chile—all typical Thai flavors— is wonderfully flavorful but stark white. Adding a large pinch of saffron turns it a glorious yellow and adds the distinctive complexity of that spice, a nice touch. If you prefer, you can use some ground turmeric—whose flavor is bitter but not at all unpleasant—or curry powder. Or just leave the sauce as is. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla).

So basic yet so wonderful, this sauce has literally dozens of possible permutations. Especially good with spring, summer, or egg rolls, it’s also terrific with grilled fish or meats. If you have the time, let it sit for a few minutes before serving to allow the flavors to come together. Information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla is on page 500.

The strong, unusual aroma of nam pla (Thai fish sauce, page 500) is not something that instantly appeals to many Westerners. But when you cook with it, or mix it with other flavors, its wonderful, characteristic saltiness blossoms. This incredibly simple dressing is great with seafood or mixed greens.

This is an essential, basic, slightly sweet Thai sauce (the Vietnamese nuoc cham is almost identical) used as a dressing for vegetables, noodles, meats, and fish and as a dipping sauce for almost any tidbit of food. Addictive, if you ask me. (Try it with plain grilled shrimp and you’ll see.) Many people make this blazingly hot; my version is much tamer. If you add five, or even ten, small Thai chiles, you won’t be breaking with tradition. See page 500 for information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla, page 185 for a description of dried shrimp.

A complex, multipurpose sauce that is good enough to eat with a spoon; adjust the proportions to your taste once you get used to it. Serve it warm, with Grilled Satay (page 101), Fried Satay (page 100), Spring Rolls (page 38), or simply rice crackers, sold at many Asian and health food markets, or other crackers. See page 500 for information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla.

Used widely for spring rolls, this also tastes great with plain grilled meat or chicken or spooned over lightly steamed vegetables. You can substitute soy sauce for the nuoc mam (usually called nam pla in this book and described on page 500, but in any case Southeast Asian fish sauce) if you prefer.

The peppery bite of radishes is the featured player in this crunchy salad, which is served all over the Arab world in one form or another. Salting the radishes first improves both flavor and texture, but if you’re pressed for time, just salt the salad as you normally would.