Grilling

This relish is good with a bit of minced jalapeño or habanero chile if you like hot food. If you have them on hand, don’t hesitate to add up to a quarter cup of fresh herbs, like basil, oregano, or marjoram.

The standard grilled pepper should be a part of every home cook’s repertoire. They’re a perfect accompaniment to nearly any simply grilled dish. Feel free to use a mix of yellow, orange, and red bell peppers if it appeals to you.

During the summer, rushing home with a bag of farm stand corn which you can get in almost any part of the country—and cooking it out on the grill is a real treat. But if you can’t find locally grown, just-picked corn, you shouldn’t count yourself out of the fun—new breeds of corn retain their sweetness very well. Even if you are buying your corn from the supermarket, just remember that it declines in sweetness as it ages, so it will be best to cook it as soon as possible after you bring it home. If your fire is raging hot, remove the inner silks from the corn and grill them in their husks. But if it’s in the normal range, grill the shucked corn directly over the fire. Ideally, some of the kernels will brown and even char.

Grilling is an important part of this dish, as it gives the eggplant a smoky flavor that’s hard to come by otherwise. Serve this dip with grilled flatbreads or slices of baguette, or pitas.

This is the way to get tender, moist ribs without burning them. They take some time, but not much attention.

This preparation favors thick spears of asparagus, which become tender and remain moist inside while their exteriors char. Those that weigh an ounce or two each—that is, eight to sixteen per pound are the best. The only difference between thick and pencil asparagus is that thick asparagus must be peeled before cooking to remove the relatively tough skin; use a vegetable peeler or paring knife.

This dish has the beguiling, distinctively Southeast Asian aroma of garlic, lots of it, nuoc mam (the Vietnamese fish sauce known more commonly by its Thai name, nam pla), and lime. But there are a couple of “secret” ingredients as well, including the mild acidity of lemongrass and the spiciness of black pepper in large quantities. Traditionally, this dish also contains the burnt sweetness that comes from caramelized sugar, but the intense heat of the grill makes honey a good substitute and a much easier one. So the marinade can be assembled in ten minutes, the grill preheated in another ten, and the pork grilled in ten: a great, intensely flavored, thirty-minute dish. You can use pork chops for this dish, but so-called country-style ribs (actually the shoulder end of the pork loin) remain moister during grilling. And if you can find these “ribs” with the bone out, so much the better—you’ve essentially got a one-inch-thick pork loin steak that grills beautifully.

Lamb chops are among the best meats to grill; although they tend to catch fire, they cook so quickly—three minutes per side is usually more than enough—that there is no time for them to char, and the fire makes the exterior even crisper than it might be otherwise. The cucumbers are best if they’re salted, which removes some of their bitterness and makes them extra-crisp. Start with one or two Kirby (small) cucumbers per person—or half of a medium cucumber or about a third of a long (“English”) cucumber.

If you don’t see lamb ribs in your supermarket, the chances are that they’re being tossed. Both demand and profit are evidently so slim that they are not worth processing and putting out in the case. Which is a shame, because next to pork (spare) ribs, lamb ribs are the best down-and-dirty grill item I know. They’re also the cheapest. Where I live, it’s hard to pay more than a dollar a pound for them. Like spareribs, lamb ribs are the bones of the breast, separated into individual pieces. The supermarket meat department or butcher may give you the entire breast, or he may separate the ribs for you. If he does not, be sure to ask him to at least remove or cut through the breastbone, which will make cutting in between the ribs fast and easy. Lamb ribs require special treatment while grilling, because they are loaded with fat (this is one of the reasons they taste so good, of course). You can grill them very slowly or (my preference) parboil the ribs just for ten minutes or so, long enough to render enough of the fat so that it doesn’t catch fire the instant you put the ribs on the grill. You’ll still need to be careful during grilling; don’t leave the fire for more than a minute or two. Broiling them makes this somewhat easier, but you still have to keep an eye out; left unattended, they will burn. Any brushing sauce or spice rub you like is suitable here. My choice is a sweet but pungent amalgam of raw onion, strong mustard, and honey, marmalade, or maple syrup.

Asparagus may Introduce spring, but mint screams it. The perennial herb is among the first edible greens out of the ground, and it’s rampant enough to be considered a weed for those who aren’t fond of it. Team it with lamb and you have a model spring dish.

There may be no meat better for grilling than boneless leg of lamb. It cooks reasonably quickly, usually in less than half an hour, but still develops an irresistibly crunchy crust. Even better, that crust can be flavored in minutes before it is cooked with any of a dozen combinations of seasonings. Marinating is unnecessary, as the meat itself has exquisite flavor and really needs no more than salt. The leg’s irregular shape virtually guarantees that every eater will be happy—lamb is the only meat good at every stage of doneness. When the thickest parts have cooked to rare, the ends will be well done, the parts in between medium. Boneless legs sold at supermarkets are sometimes wrapped in an elastic net to form them into a round roast. For grilling, remove this so the meat lies flat. If the larger end of the meat is three or more inches thick, you might cut a flap to make that lobe thinner and flatter so that it cooks more evenly. Using a sharp, thin-bladed knife and working from the side of the lobe that faces the rest of the meat, make a horizontal cut about halfway down from top to bottom, most of the way through, and fold the meat out; in essence, you are butterflying the butterfly.

Why do so many recipes have you brown lamb shanks and other tough meats when the long braising needed to make them tender ends up breaking down the lovely, crisp crust? The simple answer is that browning creates complex flavors, but it also creates a spattery mess. So here’s a solution: grill or broil the shanks after braising. This will give them the ultimate crust, and the braising liquid will serve as a succulent sauce.

Wrapping one food with another is familiar, especially if meat, cheese, or vegetables make up the filling—think of ravioli, stuffed cabbage, or egg rolls. Making meat the wrapping is a nice role reversal, a neat twist that is extraordinary enough to allow a simple preparation to wow a crowd. Such is the case with the Japanese negima, in which beef is wrapped around chives or scallions, then brushed with soy sauce and grilled.

This dish, which often appears on bistro menus in France, fits the need for a good steak served with something powerfully salty and rich (anchovy butter or a combination of butter, soy sauce, and ginger will also do the trick). Some might consider the sauce overkill, but not those of us who crave it. My favorite cheese for this sauce is Roquefort, which is made from sheep’s milk. But it’s entirely a matter of taste—Stilton, Gorgonzola, Maytag blue, or any high-quality, fairly soft blue cheese will work equally well. Don’t bother, however, trying to make this sauce with commercially produced domestic blue cheese, such as that sold precrumbled for salads. Not only will its taste be inferior, but it will not give the sauce the same creaminess. This is a case where the usually too-lean and mildly flavored tenderloin (filet mignon) will do just fine. Its tenderness is welcome and its blandness more than compensated for by the sauce. I’d still prefer a good strip steak or rib-eye, which are chewier and more flavorful, but you will notice their higher fat content when they’re combined with the rich sauce.

Another great, simple sauce based on anchovies (there are two in the pasta chapter; see pages 263 and 271). You get acidity, astringency, and fruitiness from the wine, piquancy from the garlic and anchovy, complexity from the thyme, and a smooth finish from the butter—all in about the time it takes to preheat a grill for the steaks. You don’t need great red wine for this sauce, but it should be one with a fair amount of fruit and at least a little structure.