Easy

Practically ubiquitous in Sweden and wonderful with cold vegetables, gravlax, cold meats, and sandwiches. You can leave it fairly thick and use it as a dip or thin it as much as you like to make it a little more saucy or even as thin as a salad dressing.

Classically used for Cochinita Pibil (page 351), this gorgeous, bright red paste can be smeared on any meat you’re about to roast or grill. Its color belies its flavor, which is not at all hot (though you can throw a chile in there if you like). Annatto—or achiote—is something you’ve probably encountered unknowingly, since it colors processed cheeses, margarine, and lipstick. The triangular, brick-colored seeds of the annatto tree have been especially important in the Yucatán peninsula and South and Central America for centuries; make sure the seeds you buy are bright red, smell earthy or musky, and taste slightly peppery. Whole seeds keep for a year or more in a tightly covered container.

Probably the quickest salsa you can make and a fresh, delicious one for chips or simply cooked fish or chicken. Best with good fresh tomatoes, but still decent with canned (and definitely better with canned than with hard, unripe “fresh”).

If you can grill the tomatoes for this salsa—especially over wood—so much the better. But you can broil or even pan-grill them, and the salsa will still be good, as long as you make sure they blacken a bit. This makes a wonderful all-purpose condiment, and a great salsa for burritos and tacos; it’s also fabulous used in an omelet or scrambled eggs.

A standard and very useful salsa, great with anything grilled. I don’t make it fiery hot—it’s based on mild chiles—but you can add more of the hot ones if you like, and it’s easy enough.

The variously colored habanero (also called Scotch bonnet, for its shape) is blisteringly hot. It also has wonderful flavor, which, I suppose, is why people tolerate it. This salsa will turn up on any grilled meat, but it’s often served with Cochinita Pibil (page 351). Care is needed when handling all chiles, but especially habaneros; do not touch your eyes or other sensitive parts of your body after touching the chiles until you wash your hands very well (some people wear gloves to handle them, and that’s not a bad idea).

When dried—as you will usually find them—pasillas are often called chile negro, or black chile. They are thin, small, shriveled, and very dark. They are also earthy and not especially hot, so they yield a rich, densely flavored sauce traditionally used with lamb, beef, and chicken. If you want some heat, soak a dried chipotle or two with the pasillas. If you can find fresh tomatillos, use them in place of the tomatoes. Slip off the papery husks and add a little water to the sauce.

Pumpkin seeds figure heavily in much Mexican cooking. You can buy them toasted, but toasting them is an easy enough task, and they’re arguably better when toasted fresh—especially in lard or oil. (If you’d like to avoid the mess—or the lard—you can also toast the seeds on a baking sheet in a 350°F oven or in a dry skillet as you would sesame seeds, page 596.) Ancho chiles—dried poblanos—are mild and richly flavored. You can use them freely without worrying about overpowering heat. This sauce is best served over something simple, like grilled steak or chicken.

The best substitute for papaya here, believe it or not, is watermelon. Cantaloupe isn’t bad either. Serve this with any grilled meat, poultry, or fish.

This is a sharp, spiky sauce, but not a superhot one (it’s not a supergreen one, either!). Use it as a dip for chips or vegetables or as a basting sauce when roasting meat, fish, or vegetables.

A raw salsa, with nice strong flavors. Best with tomatillos, but still good with not-too-hard green tomatoes. I like to mix a little just-ripe red tomato in as well.

Somewhere between a vegetable dish and a salsa, this is great as a topping for simple grilled fish or chicken. If you have a gas grill, you can make this almost effortlessly; it’s easy, too, when you’ve started a charcoal fire for another purpose.

I saw these lovely red onions throughout the Yucatán and wondered why their color was so vivid. Turns out they’re pickled in beet juice (you can omit the beets if you like; in fact they add little flavor). These are a perfect condiment for plain grilled fish.

A tiny little side condiment served with grilled chicken or fish that can make any meal sing. It’s fine without any chile at all, but I like a touch. This is a very fragile dish; make it at the last minute and serve it all at once. It will go fast, believe me.

Adobo is an oregano-based spice mixture that, when purchased in stores, is usually made from dried ingredients—dried oregano, onion powder, and garlic powder. This fresh version is infinitely better; use it as a rub for pork, chicken, or beef.

Neither mayonnaise nor guacamole, but something in between and, in some instances, better than either as a sandwich spread. Great, too, as a dip for cold shellfish. You can also thin it with heavy cream, sour cream, or yogurt and use it as a salad dressing (think of it as real Green Goddess). Make it spicy or not, as you like; I’ve had it both ways.

Killer on grilled meats, this simple herb puree is like pesto with more kick.

Chimichurri should be quite strong; you can cut back on the garlic and/or the red pepper, but it won’t be the same. Try it at least once at full strength; you’ll be surprised by how much the freshness of the parsley keeps everything in perspective, especially when served with meat, which it usually is.

Powerfully delicious, this sauce is served throughout the Caribbean, often with grilled chicken but also over vegetables. Best made with the juice of sour oranges, but you won’t find those here; I use a combination of orange and lime juices.

Not “caramel apples”—whole apples coated with candy—but caramelized: Sliced apples baked in caramelized butter and sugar until lightly browned, served warm or at room temperature. If you think applesauce smells good when you make it, wait till you try this—for many, a new way to enjoy our continent’s favorite fruit. There are two ways I like to prepare this: One when I have time and one when I’m in a hurry. The preferred method—essentially a tarte tatin without the crust (if you like, top it with Sweet Tart Pastry, page 654, before baking)—is the main recipe, but it takes a while. This is good with pears (not too ripe) or Asian pears, too.