Sear

I love the rich and “wild” taste of quail. I’m not alone: because the flavor is appealingly gamey (but not as liver-y as squab), it’s one of the most popular and accessible game birds on the menu. At Bayona, I use Mississippi bobwhite quail, which is particularly plump and tender, but any variety will work in this recipe. When marinated and grilled, quail makes for the ultimate finger food. But the birds become sexy and sophisticated when paired with a lovely red wine sauce, plumped tart cherries, and sautéed spinach. Add a wedge of crispy polenta or some herb-roasted potatoes and you have a sweet and savory main course.

This dish’s vibrant, savory sauce is my version of muhamarra, a mildly spicy and slightly fruity Turkish red pepper condiment. It is easy to prepare and goes great with just about any grilled meat or fish (or with thick slices of grilled eggplant). Pole-caught yellowfin tuna is a good sustainable choice; its meaty texture and flavor stand up well to the thick pesto-like puree. Swordfish would be a good alternative, cooked the same way as the tuna. A green vegetable, baked or grilled eggplant, or rice pilaf would make a great side dish.

I always envied folks who grew up in corn country and got to taste those gold and silver ears cooked fresh from the field, just exploding with sweetness. I had a friend whose mother used to say, “Go run and get the corn, and if you drop any on the way back, don’t stop to pick it up!” I love the urgency of it. So, when we get a case of really sweet corn at the restaurant, I like to use it two ways: I make this sweet Corn Cream, which goes beautifully with big, juicy sea scallops, and I serve it with the maque choux, so you also get the crisp crunch from the corn kernels in addition to the creamy sauce. If corn isn’t in season and you’re just dying to make this, use frozen sweet corn.

Fusion cuisine gets scoffed at a lot, but it can work beautifully, as this dish, with its Latin and Asian influences, attests. From the marriage of avocado, cucumber, limes, chiles, garlic, and cilantro (known as coriander everywhere else but the Americas), Peppered Tuna with Asian Guacamole was born. The cucumber lightens up the avocado and adds a bit of crunch. Hoisin Dipping Sauce rounds out the peppery warmth with sweet spiciness. Serve four plates as a first course, or top Sesame Wonton Crisps (p. 89) with a slice of the tuna and a dollop of the guacamole and serve on a platter to make an elegant party snack.

When I was little, my mom used to deep-fry tiny bay scallops and serve them with melted butter. One time I ate so many that I made myself sick. It was years before I could try another scallop! These days I like to serve large sea scallops, which are easy to sear and make for a beautiful presentation. What’s more, their rich, sweet taste marries well with so many ingredients that sometimes it’s hard to decide what to serve alongside. Here, I’ve paired them with spinach, bacon, and tomatoes for a quick one-skillet sauté that’s bright and festive. The bacon can be omitted, but let’s face it: everything is better with bacon, and here its rich, salty flavor is a nice foil for the sweet scallops. I recommend a nonstick pan, as the juices sometimes get a little syrupy and sticky.

Serving a sandwich for dinner can make even the busiest day feel less complicated. Start with a mixed-green salad, and try Parmesan Steak Fries (page 83) on the side.

This hearty salad contains many ingredients and flavorings commonly found in Thai cuisine, including lime juice, chile pepper, mint, bean sprouts, and peanuts.

We like this steak served with sauteed mushrooms and polenta, but it would also be great with a green salad or Parmesan Steak Fries (page 83). And since it’s made with commonly available ingredients, you can enjoy it year-round.

I often pan-sear steaks Vietnamese style, with lots of garlic, black pepper, and Maggi Seasoning sauce, a favorite condiment of the Vietnamese. Thinly slice the steaks so guests may help themselves with chopsticks, plus the juices released are delicious mixed into a bowl of rice. Or, make the steaks part of a Western knife-and-fork meal (bit-tet is the Viet transliteration of the French bifteck) and serve with crispy fried potatoes instead of rice (see Stir-Fried Beef with Crispy Fried Potatoes, page 140, for guidance on cooking the potatoes).

Eating this crab is somewhat akin to eating a pile of barbecued ribs. Coated with a garlicky-sweet-spicy sauce, the crab requires a little work to get at all the delicious bits (and perhaps a cold beer to wash things down), but your effort pays off. Vietnamese cooks traditionally cut up live crabs before stir-frying them. That is a run-of-the-mill task for fearless types like my mom. Most cooks, however, wince at the thought of chopping up a live crustacean, especially one with large claws. To avoid getting pinched, I briefly boil the crab, which also sets the meat and tomalley, making the crab easy to take apart. Since freshness is crucial, use whatever kind of live crab is available in your area, the feistier the better for optimal flavor. Asian markets are typically reliable sources. In Northern California, I’m blessed with the large Dungeness crab. Outfit the table with metal nutcrackers, communal bowls for holding shells, and a finger bowl for each person.

This Vietnamese version of Chinese salt-and-pepper shrimp is bursting with bold flavors, and the high-heat searing seals in the juices. Use shrimp in their shells for the extra crunch and smokiness they develop during searing. Ideally their heads will be intact, too, as the juices trapped in the heads add to the richness of the finished dish. Purchase white shrimp with edible thin shells for this recipe; they are usually available at Asian and Latin markets.

This recipe was inspired by a grilled tuna steak that I ordered at a sleepy roadside restaurant in Vietnam. Working tableside on a small charcoal brazier, the young waiter cooked a half-inch-thick tuna steak with care and patience. Back in my home kitchen, I decided to adapt the recipe to the stove top. I find that pan searing allows greater control than grilling over the doneness of the lean, meaty steaks, yielding juicier results. There are no tricks here. The tuna steaks are coated with the same seasonings used for Grilled Shrimp and Squid (page 111), and the gingery dipping sauce offers a good contrast to the richness of the fish. Serve with Chicken Dumpling and Chrysanthemum Leaf Soup (page 61), boiled gailan (Chinese broccoli) or regular broccoli (which are both good with the dipping sauce), and rice.

As you fry these stuffed squid, the fragrant aromas that rise from the pan will have you dreaming of enjoying them along with a cold beer. Many Vietnamese cooks add minced garlic to the stuffing, but our family prefers ginger, a nod to ginger-centric northern Vietnam. The tart, spicy, salty dipping sauce heightens the flavors in the stuffing. Select young, fresh squid with bodies about five inches long, not including the tentacles. For the best flavor, clean the squid yourself, rather than buying them already cleaned. Because both squid sizes and a cook’s stuffing technique can vary, this recipe makes more stuffing than you will need. If only a little is left over, discard it. If there is a fair amount, mix in an egg or two and fry up into an omelet (see Pork and Mushroom Omelet, page 97, for cooking instructions).

Skate, for those of you who are unfamiliar with it, is delicately textured and tastes very much like scallops. In France there are endless wonderful brasseries, and nearly all of them serve skate with a brown butter sauce. Smoky chipotle puree instantly Americanizes the butter sauce with its fiery taste of the Southwest. The finishing touches for the skate—salty capers, tart lemon juice, and my favorite herb for seafood, tarragon—are all simple but come together in a dynamic way. The tomato salad is optional, but it brings a lovely touch of bright color and freshness to the plate.

The legendary Louisiana chef Paul Prudhomme started the blackening craze; the method calls for coating seafood or meat in a spice mixture before cooking it in a cast-iron pan. The quick cooking over high heat really seals in flavor as it creates a fantastically flavored blackened crust. Redfish is the traditional choice, but I like the juxtaposition of the spicy rub against the sweetness of scallops. Their meaty richness really holds up well to the aggressive blackening. A simple vinaigrette of green onions adds a vibrant freshness to the dish, as does the smoky tomato relish.

Lou Lambert, another one of my chef friends who grew up on a ranch, now owns two Texas restaurants—Lamberts Downtown Barbecue in Austin, and Lambert’s steak house in Fort Worth. Lou got the idea for his seared chickpeas when he was a kid growing up on the family ranch near Odessa. “We had a camp cook who would make hominy loaded with chili powder and garlic. I adapted his dish with chickpeas. I originally put this on the menu at the first Lambert’s on South Congress, and it has been a mainstay at all the restaurants since.” I’ve been coveting this recipe ever since I first tasted it at Lou’s first restaurant. Now that I have it, I know it will become a mainstay for me, too, especially when I have some entertaining to do.

Most Asian markets carry Japanese nanami togarashi seasoning. It is a mixture of ground chile, orange peel, spices, and sesame seeds. For this beef salad, it is simply a question of rolling the beef in the seasoning and searing it quickly in a heavy pan. The beef is barely cooked and is eaten thinly sliced, like carpaccio. There will be some left over for tomorrow. I cannot think of a better accompaniment for it than a simple tomato salad.

Start this recipe the night before you serve it if you are straining the yogurt. To convert one cup of regular yogurt to 1/2 cup of thick Greek-style yogurt, set a strainer over a bowl and line it with a clean, lint-free dish towel or a coffee filter and pour in one cup of yogurt. Put the bowl in the refrigerator overnight. The next day, discard the liquid and scrape the thickened yogurt into a bowl. Serve this dip with bread or raw vegetables, or as part of a Middle Eastern spread with Cucumber Yogurt (page 184), Cucumber and Pomegranate Salad (page 85), and Chickpea Cakes (page 39).

A paillard is a piece of meat that has been pounded thin and seared. The purée in this recipe is fragrant and colorful, with a powerful tomatoey tang. Leftover purée can be used as a dip for vegetables or tossed with pasta. Do not reuse any purée that came in contact with the raw chicken without first boiling it for one minute. Start this recipe early in the day to allow the tomatoes and nuts enough time to soak.

Shiso, also known as “beefsteak plant,” is a pungent, wild-tasting herb native to North America but typically sold only in Japanese markets. Often served with sushi, shiso is essential here for bringing the flavor of the fish to life. Dry sake served cold rounds out this dish well.