LOUISIAN A BARBECUE D SHRIMP is that sort of magical dish that’s intensely flavorful, quick to cook, and perfect for sharing—all you need to do is spend a few minutes revving at the spice drawer first. Despite the name, the recipe isn’t cooked on a barbecue but simmered straight in a spicy-bright pan sauce. As Toni Tipton-Martin explains in her book Jubilee, drawn from her collection of nearly 400 African American cookbooks, “‘Barbecue shrimp’ is just the name Louisiana Creole cooks assigned to shrimp braised in wine, beer, or a garlic butter sauce.” This one is Toni’s favorite version, based on one from the late model/chef/restaurateur B. Smith.
Sometimes, Toni doesn’t even wait to get the shrimp out of the pan, serving it in the kitchen as an appetizer, right in the skillet it’s cooked in, with lots of hot crusty bread to get every bit of sauce. No more than 10 minutes have passed.
This recipe is specific in calling for a certain variety of olive, shallots instead of onion, and a particular hue of vinegar. But know that it is LGD's equation that makes it heroic, not its details. To make your own variant of LGD, you need fresh, fragrant herbs; something onion-esque; the combined brine power of olives, capers, and anchovy; the juxtaposed acid of both vinegar and citrus; and the fruity fat of a good-quality olive oil. Don't get hung up on the variety of vinegar you don't have or the fact that you’ve got onion and no shallot. Just follow the equation and taste what happens.
A fruit galette is the workhorse of the sweet kitchen. Freeing yourself from the confines of a pie plate is so liberating. Somehow, no matter how a galette slumps, breaks, or browns, it’s always beautiful. Glory lies in irregularity. Unlike a deep fruit pie, which tends to harbor too much liquid, galettes always leak a little bit. Rest easy. That’s a good thing! It seems to me that exactly the right amount of liquid creeps out so that what’s left inside is a nicely thickened fruit filling with sweet, concentrated flavor, and a crisp bottom crust. The secret is to remove it from the parchment paper while it’s still warm and the leaked juices haven’t solidified. A bonus is that galettes cool much faster than pies. You are closer to dessert bliss than you think.
Could I write a book without featuring crispy gnocchi? Of course not. So I give you my proudest barbecue creation. Forget about threading just plain old vegetables on a stick —here, you intersperse veggies of your choice (I’ve done bell peppers here, but see the note below) on skewers with just-blanched gnocchi. The result is crisp perfection like you wouldn’t believe.
The French seem able to turn just about anything into a delectable spread, and this is the easiest one I know. Smoked salmon could be used instead of the trout, as could minced cooked shrimp or other shellfish. Serve this spread with toasts or crackers, or add a small spoonful to Belgian endive leaves as a special appetizer.
A pre-Prohibition gin drink reclaimed by gin-mad bartenders in the early years of the renaissance, and an early calling-card cocktail for the in-the-know crowd. Its supporters love it madly. Its detractors claim its pivotal ingredient—crème de violette—causes it to taste of hand soap.
How many times have I made roast chicken over the years? Thousands.
When our great-grandparents didn't want to bother with the mess and fuss of doing ice cream in hand-cranked ice cream freezers, they used ice cube trays and did this stirred version. No equipment needed and the ice cream tastes just swell.