Shellfish

This is a fantastic dish that I came across when I was researching Caribbean food on the Internet. The recipe was cryptic—just a list of ingredients with no measurements or instructions. But I was so intrigued by the use of curry, black pepper, and Angostura bitters that I developed my own method (and added fresh herbs). This pilaf is substantial enough to eat on its own, but heavenly when served alongside grilled fish or shrimp.

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.

I’m not sure what the connection is between this old New Orleans favorite and the French politician—perhaps it was created when he visited the city—but whatever the reason, it is an enduring part of the Creole repertoire. The potatoes are most often deep-fried to a light golden brown (a preparation known as “brabant potatoes”) before joining the other ingredients in the pan, but it works just as well to blanch them in water, then crisp them. This makes a tasty complete meal when paired with a ripe tomato salad or a platter of crudités.

Although I had never tasted it myself, I decided to try my hand at bouillabaisse after listening to my dad reminiscing for years about the one he’d had in Marseilles, in a café overlooking the bustling port. Eventually, after much research, I felt I knew what it should taste like, but I was still overwhelmed when I had my first bowl in Nice many years later—it was even more complex and deeply flavored than Dad’s memories had suggested. This is one dish where a paticularly flavorful version of Fish Fumet (p. 205) is essential. Because we don’t have the same fish as they do in France (such as rascasse, the bony fish that makes a true bouillabaisse), I use Gulf fish and shellfish in the stock. I put in a mix of flounder, snapper, and trout bones along with shrimp shells (and heads, if available), and a couple of gumbo crabs for good measure. Make enough so that you can freeze a batch for the next time you make this stew. My one concession: mussels. We don’t get them in the Gulf, but it’s just not bouillabaisse without ’em. Roasted Red Pepper Rouille (p. 184) and thin slices of toasted baguette are the essential condiments for this soup.

This is a dish I make often, especially for informal parties. It is delicious, easy, and pretty, and makes a great buffet item, especially when paired with all those other Mediterranean dishes I love to cook and eat, such as Eggplant Caviar and Black Olive Tapenade (p. 191), Artichoke Dolmades with Lemon Sauce (p. 20), and Simple Orzo Salad with Black Olives and Feta (p. 115). The tomato sauce is also a good base for moussaka or baked stuffed eggplant, or just tossed with noodles and some sharp Greek cheese, such as kasseri. The dish can be completed up to the final baking point and kept refrigerated for several hours or even overnight. Bring it to room temperature before baking, or it will overcook.

It’s not hard to imagine eating this dish at a table on the coast in Portofino, Italy. Warm spices, garlic, fresh thyme, and sunny citrus flavors create an irresistible marinade for sweet shrimp. I prefer to pour the marinated crustaceans right onto a baking sheet and roast them (a great no-fuss technique for dinner parties) until they’re just cooked. However, you could certainly sear the shrimp in a hot skillet as well. Crispy Risotto Cakes are the perfect starch to serve alongside the shrimp. Drag a forkful of the flavorful rice through the marinade and you’ll understand why this dish has been one of my entertaining staples for years. For an extra swath of color (and flavor), serve this dish with Butternut Squash Puree (p. 189).

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.

While vacationing in Cape Cod recently, Chip and I took it upon ourselves to sample lobster rolls from one end of the Cape to the other. We loved the classic filling of seafood bound in rich mayo, but I immediately started thinking about how herbs and a hint of lemon would make the salad even better. Down here in New Orleans, we don’t have the luxury of leftover lobster very often, but we are lucky enough to have delicious boiled shrimp pretty much all year round. I also thought the spiffy salad deserved something more than the ubiquitous hot dog bun favored up north. A soft, rich bread like brioche is perfect. This is my spin on a venerable New England tradition.

This fabulous, herbaceous gumbo used to be primarily a meatless Lenten dish, served on Good Friday. It is a pretty rare find on menus these days, but if you should come across it, give it a try. It is a thinner, soupier gumbo than most, and you’ll be surprised how much flavor the greens impart to the broth. When I made it the first time, I thought of how wonderful oysters would taste with the herbs, so I decided to top it off with a few fried ones. You could still serve it during Lent, but don’t reserve this delicious gumbo for once a year.

One of the richest, creamiest soups around, bisque is traditionally a puree of seafood, rice, and cream. This luscious version is New Orleans’s eating at its finest. The elegant flavors call for little more than an equally impressive white wine to serve alongside this dish. The aromatic vegetables, tomatoes, tarragon, and liqueur make this recipe particularly distinctive.

I remember a time when gazpacho became very trendy and was on every menu. I decided to come up with a different version—even with a different color. It was José Andrés of Jaleo in Washington, D.C., who made the best Spanish gazpacho I ever tasted, so I borrowed his technique of frying the bread in olive oil. The toasted flavor and richness of the fried bread helps mellow the acidity and round out the flavors of the other ingredients. The shellfish garnish is not necessary but makes the dish a little more elegant and sumptuous.

This silky concoction makes an elegant starter, or a light supper if paired with the Parisienne Bistro Crudité Plate (p. 102) or the Bayona House Salad with Balsamic Vinaigrette (p. 95) and a warm baguette. Oysters and artichokes are another favorite New Orleans combination. For your convenience I’ve called for canned artichoke hearts, but if you’re feeling expansive (and industrious), use fresh artichoke hearts. Your efforts will be rewarded.

In 1995, I was lucky enough to be invited as a guest chef at the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok. I brought my sous chef and pastry chef with me, and for two weeks we toured the temples and markets of the city, seeing (and eating) many unusual and beautiful things. I vividly remember the profusion of flowers and the tasty and sometimes strange street food (such as the edible insect cart, which we avoided), and the gradual change from barely tolerating hot chiles to actually craving them on a daily basis. When I returned, my sous chef, Ronald Carr, helped me develop this dish to showcase the new flavors that I’d fallen for. This substantial salad could be served for lunch, dinner, or as a first course before something light, such as grilled fish. To lighten up the salad, you can add an extra handful of shredded cabbage or even more of the crispy noodles (keep in mind that the salad will be a bit drier if you do this). Small or medium shrimp work just fine in this recipe, and they’re less expensive than larger varieties.

This irresistible salad became a signature at Savoir Faire. I coat the oysters with bread crumbs flavored with sage, rosemary, and parsley—and strongly encourage you to use all three. The smell alone will have your mouth watering. Fried in this coating, the oysters take on a rich flavor that suggests stuffing. Placed atop a fresh spinach salad, the dish becomes a playful twist on Oysters Rockefeller (raw oysters on the half shell, topped with a spinach-bread crumb mixture and baked). The Rosemary-Dijon Dressing (which should be made first so the salad will come together easily at the end) is one you’ll make again and again—it’s delicious on just about any mix of greens.

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.

All along the Gulf Coast, crab is plentiful and almost cheap during the summer. It has a luxurious flavor, but it’s still light, and in this ceviche-like salad the lime and basil enhance the warm-weather flavors. The salty capers are a good foil for the sweetness of the crab and carrots. Serve this refreshing combination on lettuce leaves, as described below, or in a parfait or martini glass, garnished with a wedge of lime and some tortilla chips.

This dish combines some of the best New Orleans flavors—shrimp, tasso, creamy grits, and a bit of spice—in an elegant, satisfying presentation. This dish is so popular that Donald Link, my partner and the chef at Herbsaint, couldn’t take it off the menu even if he wanted to. If you are serving this for a dinner party, make the grits the day before or in the morning, and the rest of the dish will come together quickly that night.

I remember being terribly impressed the first time I was served these at a friend’s house in the early ’80s. At that time, it was exotic and ambitious to attempt Chinese food at home. Times have changed, thanks in large part to the late Barbara Tropp, the famed chef of China Moon Café in San Francisco, whose wonderful books, like The Modern Art of Chinese Cooking, have made cooking authentic Asian food at home much less daunting. These crispy, flavorful little dumplings make a great starter or hors d’oeuvre if you’re feeding a crowd. The filling multiplies easily, and once you get the hang of filling the dumplings, you can whip up a lot in a relatively short period of time. If you’re a vegetarian, leave the pork and shrimp out and add some sautéed shiitake mushrooms instead. The tart dipping sauce is the perfect complement to the rich filling.

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.