Easy

There are two classic styles of slaw—vinegary and creamy mayonnaise—and probably more than a few hundred variations of each. Our cheater slaw combines the two classic styles, which you can easily push to one side or the other. We go light on the mayo and make it sweet and tangy. If you prefer creamier, add more mayo. If you want a vinegary slaw, simply substitute water for the mayo. See the recipe as a blueprint for your own creative preferences. We redesign it all the time by tossing in an extra ingredient or two. The usual suspects are chopped fresh parsley, fresh cilantro, shredded carrots, chopped bell pepper, bits of fresh jalapeño pepper, chopped chipotle pepper in adobo sauce, green apple chunks, sliced green onion, celery, and blue cheese crumbles.

Barbecue gets along with any bean cooked with a little onion and garlic, including black beans. Cuban Black Beans with a touch of sherry are especially well suited for Cuban Fingers (page 176) with Ultimate Cheater Pork Loin (page 80). Serve the beans over rice or add some water or broth and turn them into a soup dressed with fresh parsley, chopped onion, chopped hard-cooked egg, and a dollop of yogurt or sour cream.

Back in the 1970s before the whole world was a mouse-click away, Min’s grandfather, Lee Almy, a guy who took his beans very seriously, had pintos shipped down to Carlsbad, New Mexico, from Cortez, a small town in the prized pinto-bean-producing southwestern corner of Colorado. He flavored these superior beans simply with chili powder and salt. Min’s dad, Max, adds a can of Rotel tomatoes and a leftover hambone when available and simmers them in a slow cooker. Min’s aunt Betty is a purist and cooks her pintos plain, seasoned only with salt and sometimes chopped ham. Aunt Sarah, from a long line of ranchers across Oklahoma, Texas, and New Mexico, cooks pintos the way her mama taught her—unsoaked beans and a hunk of salt pork in the pressure cooker for an hour and a half. Then she simmers them with a little fresh garlic. Whichever way you cook them, serve with cornbread, sliced raw onion, slices of fresh jalapeño pepper, and the cheater meat of your choosing.

New Orleans–style barbecued shrimp, called “barbecue” even though they have nothing to do with smoke or a grill, are usually prepared in the oven. We do ours in a big hot pot on the stove because this dish is all about the buttery, garlicky sauce. Mass quantities of crusty French bread are required for sopping. We plunk the big pot in the middle of the table and go to town. It’s an exceptionally good time tearing into long baguettes and washing everything down with plenty of cold white wine. Sometimes, we remember the salad.

Whenever the two-pound bags of frozen shrimp are on sale (the bigger the shrimp, the better), we throw one in the freezer and the other in a brine before a quick trip under the broiler. If you’re not near live shrimp, choose bagged frozen ones because the fish counter’s fresh is often the same stuff already thawed. You’ll get perkier results thawing them in a salty bath, which puts a little ocean back in. This recipe is ripe for tinkering. Vary the rub and swap the butter for olive oil. If you skip the brine, use a dry rub with salt instead. Smoked sea salts and smoked paprika chic it up, but the bare-bones version is always a home run with kids. Pull a skewer through a warm corn or flour tortilla, and top with shredded cabbage, cilantro, onion, and a quick chili powder mayonnaise, à la fish tacos. Delicious.

Pickled shrimp remind us of the time when R. B. was on his home brew jag. As usual, he was way ahead of his time. Now a slightly smarter man, R. B. relies instead on the craftsmanship of real brew artisans for his lagers, ales, stouts, and porters. Back to these delicious shrimp and why we’re distracted by beer. Pickled shrimp must relax in the refrigerator a while to soak up the flavors of the oniony marinade. As with beer fermentation and the curing of Fridge Lox (page 134), you must leave them alone and go find something else to do. Meanwhile, things are happening. Easier than making beer, pickling shrimp takes an overnight instead of three weeks. Min occasionally tosses in a chopped fresh green jalapeño (with the seeds). We cannot get enough of these.

A traditional low-country boil is a whole lot easier in a kitchen than on a deck with all that huge pot, outdoor burner, and propane tank business. Usually, the corn on the cob and the new potatoes are cooked right in the boil with everything else, but in a regular kitchen stockpot, we think it’s easier to cook the vegetables separately. We like the extra depth that a little bottled smoke adds to the shrimp boil.

This stovetop stew is a loose interpretation of the three-day beachside fest known as the New England clambake, that picture-perfect steaming seaweed pit immortalized each August by every shiny food magazine. How do all those beautiful people stay so crisp and clean after digging a sand pit and hauling rocks? One summer, on the beach in Charlestown, Rhode Island, we were actually asked by the crew of a popular food television program to stay out of camera range until they finished a shoot. Our cluttered site didn’t convey casual flawlessness. Rhode Island Clambake in a Bowl is not only less work, it’s a much cheaper cheater because we’re skipping the lobster. Instead of a plate of steamed seafood with a little piece of corn on the cob, a sausage link, and a stray potato, this stew is meant to be served in bowls, with bread for sopping up the clam broth.

Next to firing up the smoker, having a catfish fry in the party pot (our name for the turkey fryer) is our preferred all-day patio workout. Then, after hours of fun over the hot cauldron, we’re done with frying for months. Except maybe for an occasional batch of corn tortilla chips. The thing about catfish is that its soft, almost mushy flesh demands a rigid cornmeal exoskeleton forged in hot peanut oil. An oven and a seasoned panko/cornmeal crust mimic the deep-fried crust with a fraction of the mess and without oil recycling in the morning. R. B. confirms that leftover Catfish Sticks reheat like a dream in a toaster oven. He makes a mean cheater po’boy with reheated catfish sticks piled on a hamburger bun slathered with tartar sauce and topped with iceberg lettuce excavated from the crisper drawer.

One of the cool things about cooking cheater barbecue is the thought that something is going on inside that slow cooker or behind the oven door while you’re off doing something else. The same is true with making lox in the fridge. Our method is just a simple take on classic cold smoking with a little bottled smoke. The fish “cooks” in sugar and salt and cold-smokes in the fridge. Three days later, like magic, you’re in lox. Serve with toasted bagels and cream cheese or dark rye bread with chopped hard-cooked egg, capers, and red onion.

Fresh briny oysters out of a jar satisfy our periodic oyster craving without the hassle of shucking. To cheat, swap the half shell for a casserole dish and dress the oysters with smoky shallots, butter, and lemon. A few minutes under the broiler and you’ve got a seaside party anywhere, anytime. Slurp them up with saltines. Cold beer, sparkling wine, and dry white wine are what we’re drinking.

Once you start using the lighter, larger, crisper Japanese panko crumbs, the usual bread crumbs will feel like sand. A box of panko in the pantry crunches up all kinds of oven-fried seafood and chicken and substitutes for bread crumbs in any recipe. Their airy texture is akin to the difference between flaky kosher salt and dense iodized salt. Figure on about three large scallops per person.

We had never considered grilling monster kebabs of unidentifiable cuts of meat until we spotted those churrascaria ads in airline magazines. The Brazilian barbecue called churrasco (pronounced shoo-RAS-koo) prepared on oversized spits looks especially good when you’re strapped in a seat at 35,000 feet with only a tiny bag of peanuts. At home, a family-size sirloin, some rib eyes, or beef tenderloin steaks taste just as Brazilian with a side of chimichurri, the traditional spicy mix of fresh cilantro and parsley, onions, garlic, vinegar, and olive oil. We oil up and simply season the steaks with nothing more than salt and pepper before searing under a hot broiler. Instead of bothering with cutting the meat into chunks for skewers, cook the steaks whole and carve them into thick slices before serving. Everyone at the table can see the doneness of the pieces and can choose how much and what they want. Complete the meal with Cuban Black Beans (page 149), rice, and some kind of salad with hearts of palm thrown in. R. B. recommends a spoonful or two of chimichurri in scrambled eggs with cold steak for brunch.

We’ve always had a thing for the charred lamb kebabs on flat skewers that the kebab/gyro joints do so well. One place even gave R. B. a couple of swordlike skewers after he bombarded them with questions. We make lamb/beef combo meatballs flavored with cumin to roast in the oven, and sometimes even finish on the grill. The meatballs cook on a baking sheet just like a pan of cookies. We’ve come to appreciate the many lives of a good batch of meatballs. A bag of Q’Balls in the freezer is as prized as a bag of brisket. Toss them with pasta, stuff them into pita pockets and sub sandwiches, serve them as a heavy appetizer or a quick heat-up for kid suppers. Customize the Q’Balls by substituting a couple teaspoons of any of the cheater dry rubs for the salt and seasonings.

Lamb shanks cooked in the cheater slow cooker without a lot of the usual braising liquid turn out with an amazing chestnut brown patina. We swear they look more like they came off an open fire of crackling grapevines than out of Min’s limited-edition NASCAR Bobby Labonte slow cooker. In a few hours and with very little liquid, the meat cooks to a perfectly tender state, but stays beautifully intact for country-chic presentation. Imagine the shanks piled on a deep platter with garlicky white beans and wilted escarole or on fashionable couscous. Talk about restaurant-stylish and dinner-party perfect. Unlike last-minute chops, shanks taste best made ahead and reheated. Depending on your final destination, reheat them in the slow cooker by themselves or foil wrapped in the oven with side dishes. Shanks are also an efficient way to achieve a pile of tender pulled lamb for pita pockets piled with Yo Mayo Slaw (page 152) or paired with the Detailed Salad (page 156). We like to use the Rub de la Maison, which combines barbecue basics with herbes de Provence and dried lemon peel.

For oven salmon we use either an enamel-coated roasting pan or a foil-lined baking sheet. As much as we love cast iron for its searing qualities and overall old-school cooking coolness, fishy bacon and cornbread are never a big hit with the breakfast club. Any salmon leftovers are earmarked for Two-Timer Salmon Salad (recipe follows). It helps to cut whole salmon fillets into serving-size pieces before cooking. Pay attention to the thickness of the fish (the very thin ends take almost no time) and cook accordingly.

Back when our friend Claire Mullally owned Bobbie’s Dairy Dip, a ’50s-style ice cream and burger drive-in, she organized Sunday night parking lot jam sessions to drum up a little business in the cooler fall months. Where else but Nashville can you see Country Music Award and Grammy Award winners and nominees play for tips with no cover charge and a side of sweet potato fries? The jam band was complete when a cab arrived straight from the airport carrying Claire’s husband, songwriter/musician Greg Trooper, just landing from a tour with John Prine. The standing room only parking lot was rocking with loyal Dip families filling up on live music, behemoth burgers, and soft-serve sundaes. The only thing missing was a beer truck. Claire juggled the kitchen, the counter, and managed to sing back-up on a cranking cover of “Love the One You’re With.” Our version of the Dip’s guac burger is a beauty featuring a juicy beef patty adorned with cheese, a smear of guacamole, salsa, sour cream, tomato and onion, and jalapeño slices instead of pickles.

There’s nothing wrong with pot roast, but the beef chuck shoulder roast needs a break from the potatoes and carrots and soupy broth treatment. Beef chuck makes excellent barbecue, full of rich beefy flavor. Like brisket, its connective tissue requires slow barbecue-style cooking. Chuck isn’t as long and stringy as brisket, but it can pretty much do anything a brisket can do and in less time. Also, a good chuck roast on special is an easier find than a brisket with a good fat cap. It’s about choices and good substitutes, and a chuck roast is one of them.

The big idea here was to create hamburger-style meat in a slow cooker without the hassle of ground beef patties. We combined the flavors of a grilled burger, including the condiments, with the convenience of a slow-cooked chuck roast. The pickle juice really pulled it together. After piling the meat on a bun with the usual backyard fixings, a member of our live-in focus group said, without any prompting whatsoever, “This tastes just like McDonald’s!” We celebrated with dorky, teen-embarrassing high-fives all around. A crock of pulled chuck burgers alongside a cooker filled with Crock Dogs (page 71) makes for the ultimate indoor hots and hams party. Consider this winning combo for kids’ parties, tailgating, and a snowy or rainy or crowded Super Bowl. Look at this as another good reason for additional slow cookers. One just isn’t enough, but you probably guessed that by now.