Lime

This dish, also referred to as escabeche, owes it origin to the Spanish, who created the technique of frying or poaching fish or chicken and then marinating it in a citrus or vinegar mixture as a way of preserving the meat. Because the marinating process can take up to a day, it is left in the refrigerator and as a result is typically served cold or at room temperature. It makes a great dish for a picnic or an outdoor meal because it can be made well in advance and only gets better with time.

This recipe serves you summer on a dish. You will see how the tomato and roasted corn salsa pop right off the plate. While the salsa pairs beautifully with the tuna, feel free to pair it with your favorite fish or even chicken. Fast, fresh, and easy—this will soon become your quick dinner fix.

If you are looking for an easy and delicious recipe that can feed a crowd, you’ve found it! What’s great about this recipe is that most of the “dirty” work can be done ahead of time, leaving only the actual grilling or sautéing of the shrimp to do right before you are ready to eat. Once you see how enticing the chile-smothered skewers look on a platter garnished with fresh cilantro and lime wedges, I guarantee it will become your go-to dish. And if you are not a fan of shrimp, chicken can be substituted easily. Note: You will need eight 6-inch wooden skewers for this recipe.

This is a wonderfully refreshing salad that walks the line between a shrimp cocktail and a ceviche. It’s also incredibly forgiving—so feel free to use as much (or little) of the ingredients as you like. Tangy and fresh, it is a great start to any meal.

This salad is as crunchy as it is tangy, which makes it the perfect refreshing complement to any Mexican dish. While the salad is very flavorful, it is not overpowering and can offer freshness and texture to a menu. Feel free to omit the cucumber or substitute radish, carrot, or any other hearty vegetable that won’t wilt after being left to marinate in lime juice.

Snacking is as much a Mexican pastime as it is an American one. These snacks, which are sold by street vendors, go great with beer and cocktails. Served as a trio or on their own, they are incredibly addicting!

While ceviche has become increasingly popular in the United States, it has been a staple in the Mexican kitchen for decades. Traditionally fresh fish is “cooked” by the acid of lime juice and flavored with red onion, jalapeño, and cilantro. Ceviche makes a fresh and light start to any meal. This is a good basic ceviche recipe, but feel free to make it your own by adding other aromatic ingredients, such as fresh ginger or tomato.

If you make these for your friends, make sure you eat some right away, because they will evaporate if you walk away. Megan and I like our salsa saucy, more like a picante sauce, so we add some tomato sauce. But, if you like chunky salsa, you can skip the sauce and just use the diced tomatoes.

Try this granita drizzled with a shot of tequila and sprinkled with a pinch of coarse salt for a Margranita.

Curiously, this granita really comes alive when a few grains of coarse salt are flecked over each serving. When I had friends over for a taste, they were surprised to see me salting their granita, but they quickly changed their minds when they tasted it. Try fleur de sel, hand-harvested salt crystals from France, or whisper-thin squares of Maldon salt, from England.

There’s a good reason mojitos have become all the rage. Made with rum and lots of fresh mint and lime juice, this lively Cuban cocktail practically begs to be made into a terrific granita. To make it more adult, drizzle a bit of extra rum over each serving and garnish with fresh mint sprigs.

Cutting up a papaya can be a rather messy affair, with the dark, slippery seeds spilling all over the place. I always eat a few of them, which I call the caviar of the fruit world. Try a few; you’ll find they’re quite spicy and peppery. If possible, choose a brilliant orange variety of papaya. I find Latin American markets usually have the widest selection, with the best coming from Central America or Hawaii. Sometimes you’ll find giant papayas cut into small pieces, which gives you a good chance to check out the color of the flesh beforehand.

This sorbet should be frozen right after it’s mixed to preserve the fresh flavor and color of the bananas. They should be very ripe. If you want to add a spoonful or more of dark rum to taste, feel free to do so. One of my testers, Joanna, mentioned that this was the most budget-friendly dessert she’d ever made.

If I was stranded on a deserted tropical island and could have only one dessert, this would be my choice. Admittedly, it would likely be my only choice, since all the ingredients are native to the tropics.

You can tell a lot about people by looking in their freezer. Next time you’re at a friend’s house, peek in theirs and you’ll discover their most hidden desires. One secret I am willing to share is that I’m hopelessly frugal and it’s impossible for me to throw anything away, no matter how trivial. One day when I had lots of blackberries on hand, I pulled out one of my buried treasures, a small container of frozen lime juice left over from an overanxious lime-buying spree. I was curious about how the tart lime juice would play against the sweet blackberries. Happily, it was a great combination, and it’s one secret I don’t need to keep to myself. Although I recommend that you use freshly squeezed juice, frozen lime juice that you’ve kept well concealed is the next best thing.

Whenever I pass a bin of colorful limes at the market, I can’t resist running my hands over their glossy, knobby, emerald skins. I don’t know why, but I’m always hypnotized when I see big, overflowing bins of shiny limes, and I just love to touch them. Maybe it’s because fresh limes transport us to somewhere far away, suggesting blazing hot beaches full of sexy, half-dressed locals lounging in the sun. If that doesn’t give you the impetus to make this sorbet, I don’t know what will.

One day while wasting the afternoon flipping through the television channels (what did we do before the remote control?), I stopped when I came across a not-very-well-choreographed procession of statuesque, exotically beautiful women parading across a stage. After a few minutes of riveted attention, I realized that I’d happened upon the Miss Martinique pageant. Once the glamorous gals had strutted their stuff wearing barely-there bikinis, teetering around precariously on steep high heels (it seemed the smaller the swimsuit, the higher the heels), the contest concluded with the host posing the all important question about why the pageant was so vital for promoting world peace and understanding. One of the contestants flashed her big, bright smile, looked right into the camera, and responded, “Because beauty is the key to communication.” With a thought-provoking answer like that, awarding the crown to anyone else would have been a crime. And sure enough, she won. But maybe she got mixed up and was talking about mangoes, the other beauties of the tropics. Their vibrant red exterior and succulent orange pulp do indeed communicate beauty and good taste that are not just skin deep.

A favorite Indian snack, batata vada are thinly coated by a batter made with garbanzo bean flour, which fries up crisp and then settles into a delicate chewiness. Inside, the cheery yellow potato filling (colored by turmeric) speckled by mustard seed bursts with flavor from chile, ginger, lime juice, and fresh herbs. Each one is a small eating adventure in trying to parse the individual elements while enjoying the synergistic whole. You can make the experience more fun with plops of chutney. Called bondas in Southern India and batata vada in Northern India, these dumplings are beloved all over the country. In Bombay, they are shaped as patties and served in a bun as a hamburger-like sandwich called vada pao. Garbanzo bean flour (called bésan in Hindi) is available at Indian grocery stores and health food markets. It has numerous uses in Indian cuisine, as a thickener as well as in batters for fried snacks.

Sitting in the sun, overlooking the beach, I could drink margaritas all day. Unfortunately, or maybe I should say, fortunately, I don’t live in a warm climate or anywhere near a beach. If I did, I’d never get anything done. Whenever I’m looking for a taste of the tropics at home in Paris, I’ll start squeezing limes in my kitchen and I’m immediately transported to paradise (albeit with bills piled up on the counter and the dishes in the sink). Practically obligatory to serve alongside margarita sorbet are salted peanut cookies. They were inspired by the disks of solid peanut paste sold in Mexican markets called mazapan or dulce de cacahuate, which I’ve been known to nibble on with a margarita, or two, south of the border. And above it, as well.

When you have your own website, you develop a thick skin and come to expect all sorts of questions, including being asked advice about marketing $4,000 keepsake boxes for storing chocolate truffles (“Don’t do it,” I responded) to inquiries about preferred styles and brands of undergarments (that one didn’t get answered). This recipe was a topic in an online forum that I came across, and some fellow remarked, “Why would anyone make their own marshmallows? Or graham crackers?” While I wanted to respond, “Well, why would anyone make a hamburger from scratch? Or a salad?” I thought that not getting to taste this pie himself was punishment enough. Personally, I can’t think of anything more fun than making marshmallows and graham crackers, but if you’d prefer to take a few shortcuts, I’ve offered suggestions in Variation.