5 Ingredients or Fewer

This creamy dressing, popular throughout central and eastern Europe, is a deliciously indulgent protein shake with its eggs and sour cream. You can use any firm greens here, but stay away from tender greens, like Boston lettuce and delicate mesclun mixes; they will not stand up well to the dressing.

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.

Raita is salad, relish, dip, and side dish in one. Yogurt-based, it usually includes something sharp to balance the sour blandness: onion, spices, mustard, even chiles. (It’s most closely associated with India, but similar mixtures are made in the Middle East.) The recipe here is the basic foundation of many raitas and is usually not eaten as is but added to according to preference. There are infinite variations, of which the ones that follow are among the most popular. All balance spicy curries well but are also good eaten on their own or as a dip for flatbreads, like those on pages 559–565.

Who knew something so simple could be so good? Ground, toasted sticky rice is an ingredient used as a binder in some Thai dishes, but it’s also sprinkled over sticky rice as a seasoning, contributing a toasty, smoky note. Unless you make Thai food with unusual frequency, I think it’s best to make single-meal batches, though you could easily multiply this recipe. Use it in Laarb (page 199), or sprinkle over sticky rice any time you make it.

Sambal is the generic name given to sauces in Indonesia, and this is the most basic. Nuts, coconut, dried shrimp, sugar, garlic, and other seasonings are often added before using this as a condiment for noodle, rice, and other dishes. If you want a really fiery sambal, leave in the chile seeds.

In Philippine cuisine, dark, fairly harsh soy sauce is favored, but it’s often combined with sugar to create a syrupy dressing for vegetables. The added garlic gives this sweet and salty sauce a pleasant kick.

This common, versatile sauce is usually served with grilled fish or vegetables or with shabu-shabu, but it turns up everywhere and can be used in many ways. It keeps indefinitely—a friend of mine insists it’s best after months in the refrigerator; certainly it’s no worse. You can buy yuzu juice frozen or—sometimes—fresh at Japanese specialty markets; it has a unique flavor but close enough to lemon and lime that the combination is a good substitute. You can also get bonito flakes at Japanese markets. If you are serving this as a dipping sauce at the table, garnish with finely chopped scallions or chives.

The first time I ate this great summer salad, I could not figure out how the raw garlic flavor could be strong without being overpowering, but the reason is simple: the garlic is mixed with the dressing, then strained out. Peeling the tomatoes is far from necessary, but it’s a nice refinement. More important is to use delicious ripe tomatoes.

This is not the pickled ginger served at most Japanese restaurants: It’s better, because it contains no preservatives or coloring. It will not turn pink, or only slightly, but it will be delicious. You may have to play with the sugar content: Some people like it far sweeter than others. Two tablespoons, the amount I use here, is the minimum. If at all possible, use fresh young ginger for this recipe. It will be pinker, with a soft, smooth skin, not woody, like most of the ginger at the market (which is fine for other recipes and uses). Young ginger is easier to peel and slice, and the resulting pickle will have a more delicate texture.

Not unlike the better-known Middle Eastern and Indian combinations of yogurt and cucumbers, this Polish version is more tart than its Eastern cousins, making it especially refreshing as a part of a meal with heavy dishes.

This is best when you have freshly made sauerkraut—especially a whole head, which you can sometimes find at Eastern European specialty markets. There will, of course, be times when that’s impossible, and then you must turn to packaged sauerkraut. This is not a problem as long as you steer clear of the canned stuff and look for that packed in plastic bags, containing nothing but cabbage and salt. Serve this strong, tart salad with a hearty meat dish, like “Deviled” Pork Chops (page 362), Baeckoffe of Pork and Lamb (page 399), or Carbonnade (page 385).

Beet salads in general are wonderful, but this one is a refreshing change. For one thing, the beets are raw. For another, their sweetness is offset by the sharp taste of raw cabbage; it’s a fine if odd marriage. Think of it as Swedish coleslaw (like coleslaw, it can be made a few hours in advance). Whenever you peel beets—and especially when you’re grating them—be sure to wear an apron or clothing you don’t care about.

This can be served, with rice, alongside any dal (page 433) or as a condiment with spicy stewed dishes. It can also be mixed into yogurt to make a kind of Raita (page 175).

This is why people want to move to Italy: you can buy raw fresh artichoke hearts already trimmed (occasionally you can find these in this country’s best markets too, especially in California), and layer them with the best Parmesan and olive oil. The cheese and artichoke have some kind of symbiotic magic going on, making the whole far greater than the sum of its parts. Fantastic.

Most closely associated with Greece, this is seen throughout the Eastern Mediterranean, and it remains a standard. It works equally well with whole eggs or yolks, but it is far prettier when you use yolks only. It’s a simple sauce, not meant to be especially elegant, but quite flavorful. Perfect with steamed green vegetables.

One of the most delicious salads, offered at many Paris bistros and throughout the countryside. Good with a ripe pear on the side or cut into cubes and added to the mix.

Here’s a “Why didn’t I think of that?” concoction that’s added to many plates—and sometimes simply set on the table as a condiment—throughout the Middle East. Fresh and delicious, it’s often made with mint instead of parsley or shallot in place of onion. Serve with any grilled meat, but especially Kofte (page 355).

Serve this raitalike dressing with any Middle Eastern kebab or kofte (pages 354–356), just as a drizzle, or with any grilled meat, poultry, or fish. If you have a source for fresh yogurt, this is the place to use it. Many times this is made with a teaspoon or more of minced garlic. Obviously, that changes its character greatly, but some people cannot live without it. Good either way.

Simple, basic, and essential. You can always make a true Vinaigrette (page 600), but as is, this is the simplest green salad, as good for entertaining as it is for weeknights. Almost any greens are good with this dressing, from romaine, Boston, or iceberg lettuce to frisée or radicchio, but a mixture is best. The prepacked mesclun mixtures now sold in almost all supermarkets make it even easier.

Among the simplest and most useful all-purpose chile pastes—terrific as a condiment for grilled food, and useful by the spoonful in braised dishes—this one can be made with nothing more than dried chiles (the standard red ones, inexpensive and readily available at any Asian market, are fine), garlic, and olive oil. A bit of cumin or Tabil is a nice addition. However—and this is a big however—harissa need not be fiery; it can be made with relatively mild chiles, like New Mexico or ancho chiles. Furthermore, whether you need the chiles or not is up to you; even if you use “mild” chiles, the sauce will be fairly hot if you do not. Obviously, some experimenting may be necessary to find your tolerance level. I have eaten harissa in many different forms, and this recipe is my choice. Harissa keeps for at least a week or two, refrigerated. It will lose a bit of intensity over time, but this is not necessarily a bad thing; some would call it mellowing.