Weeknight Kitchen

Juicy chicken skewers—marinated in aromatic spices and coconut milk, then grilled for a smoky char—are a street-food favorite you can enjoy in your own backyard. Served with velvety peanut sauce, each bite blends sweet and salty flavors with a hint of heat. For vegetarians, double the mushrooms and skewer them separately.

I used to whip feta with milk, but the site Serious Eats taught me about using Greek yogurt, which yields a super creamy, pillowy dip. Serve it with warm pita or grilled sourdough and some cucumbers sliced on an extreme bias. I’m not usually one to suggest more prep time, but homemade pita is immeasurably better and there are plenty of great recipes online.

I like the presentation of the salty bits on top, but you can pulse all the ingredients together for a more homogeneous texture.

This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. I made it one night with no time and no plan. I opened the fridge and grabbed everything that seemed at least vaguely to go together. I took some sausage from the freezer, some peppers on their last legs, some broccoli rabe, and a couple odds and ends of onions. Add to that the remnants of a few open cans of tomatoes and . . . voilà, classic sausage and peppers. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.

The longer this sits in the fridge, the more delicious it gets. Reheat it and then throw it on a hoagie or on a mound of mashed potatoes or with polenta.

This colorful salad is a feast for the eyes. Full of veggie goodness, the sweetness and spice are beautifully balanced with the fresh dressing that has a slight kick to round things out.

You’ll find these juicy, sticky, charred wings at Singapore’s hawker centers (or food courts), where there’s usually at least one vendor flipping them over a charcoal grill. The chicken wings are marinated in dark soy sauce, oyster sauce, and garlic, then served with a spicy dipping sauce made of chiles and lime.

This salad is a visceral experience, like you ran through the garden with a weed whacker. Made up of pieces of fresh herbs that are just shy of being too big to eat, it’s a wild and reckless bowl of green with a sexy crunch. At Dad’s, it stands up to the wrath of a greasy diner burger and a yolk-exploding mushroom sandwich. The ingredients list is anarchic; you can decide for yourself what your handfuls are, changing up the herbs and sprouts as others come into season. You can use a salad spinner to wash it all, but I like to get my hands in it, mix it up well, and let it drip dry. Then you’ll dress it with Hippie Vinaigrette (page 53), and your folks will chomp on it like they’re herbivores.

These skillet tortillas use store-bought enchilada sauce for simmering, which makes them an especially convenient option for last-minute savory breakfasts or brunches. You can transform the meal repeatedly by experimenting with different toppings, be they creamy, melty, crispy, or crumbly. I give a few of my favorite options in the ingredient list, but don’t be afraid to add your own finishing touches! Note that the recipe calls for white corn tortillas, rather than yellow; white tortillas tend to be thinner and more pliable, which makes them especially good for soaking up the sauce.

When it comes to things as iconic as a Caesar salad, I typically like to keep it classic and work toward perfecting the technique. But that was before I was inspired to try some crisp, thinly sliced celery and smoky bacon–laced breadcrumbs to enhance the already perfect balance in a Caesar salad. And it truly does. There is something about that extra-fresh crunch from the celery and the way that the breadcrumbs coat the leaves and dressing (in lieu of the cumbersome crouton) that really takes a classic Caesar to another level.

My dad loved salmon, and during the last few years of his life, he’d have lunch with me at home. “Fish on Fridays” was a weekly ritual and this quick- to-assemble dish, with its sweet-sharp citrussy marination, was one of his favorites. I’d often serve it with potato vinaigrette and a leafy salad, but sometimes, I’d flake the cooked salmon into buttery rice with plenty of chopped cilantro—just as my mom used to do.

When you’re in a time pinch, this pizza is possibly the best way to use puff pastry. Just add cheese. Add tomatoes. More cheese. Olive oil. Herbs. Bake until golden and puffed and cheesy and it smells like you’ve lit a pizza margherita candle in your kitchen. You win at dinner.