Cast Iron Skillet

An homage to the prehistoric pitmasters: giant steaks cooked directly on hot coals. This method gives you a steak that's moist on the inside and pleasantly charred on the outside. Be sure to use hardwood lump charcoal (not briquettes) for this recipe. It will burn cleaner, hotter, and faster than traditional charcoal.

Not to be confused with the annual Gaelic Gourmet events in Boston since the year 2000, Marty Lynch and Kevin O'Grady's Gaelic Gourmet BBQ Team has been burning sticks and wowing barbeque judges since the early 1980s. When Marty gave Ardie [Davis] a taste of CAM Onions at the 2008 Great American Barbecue, Ardie said, "You've gotta give me your recipe for the next KCBS cookbook!" Marty gladly obliged. He adapted this from Rick Browne's Oz Onion Pudding in Rick's Grilling America book (2003). Rick gave us permission to share this version, tweaked by Carolyn Wells, Amy Winn, and Marty Lynch—hence the CAM acronym.

Editor's note: Use this salsa to make Deborah Schneider's Mushroom, Rajas, and Corn Taco with Queso Fresco . A very useful salsa that is easy to make and keeps well. Firm, fresh Roma tomatoes are dry-roasted until soft and well charred on all sides (quemada literally means "burnt"), then pureed into a smooth salsa with sweet toasted garlic, fresh cilantro, and onion. Salsa quemada clings to the dryer and chunkier taco fillings, adding moisture and great flavor. It is also a classic table salsa, perfect to serve with tostadas and totopos.

This recipe yields puffy, golden pancakes with minimal effort because they’re baked rather than cooked on top of the stove. Lemon cuts the sweetness of these pancakes and imparts its fresh, citrusy flavor. Serve with Venison Sausages (page 185).

The rice needs to stir-fry in a generous amount of oil. (It's fried rice, after all.) If you don't use enough oil, the dish starts to taste more like a rice casserole. Note that except for the 2 eggs, 1 onion, and 1 garlic clove, all the other ingredients begin with 4.

Sour-milk cornbread is one of those quintessential foods of the South for which there are hundreds of recipes (and infinite variations). Although we'd never claim to have the "definitive version," Miss Lewis and I worked together on this recipe until we got just what we wanted: an all-cornmeal bread that's light, moist, and rich, full of corn flavor, with the tanginess of sour milk or buttermilk. Like all Southern cornbreads, it has no sugar—that's a Yankee thing. Traditionally, milk that had started to culture was used in cornbread and other baked goods, both for its pleasant sharp taste and for a leavening boost (its acids react with baking soda to generate carbon dioxide). Since modern pasteurized milk doesn't sour nicely—it just goes bad—we use commercial buttermilk here instead. This is a genuine all-purpose cornbread, delicious as a savory bread or even as a dessert, slathered with butter and honey. My mother and grandmother only made this kind of leavened cornbread (which they called "egg bread") for cornbread stuffing, and it does make superb stuffing. It's also delicious in a time-honored Southern snack: cornbread crumbled into a bowl with cold milk or buttermilk poured over. Many Southerners—especially of an older generation—would call that a perfect light supper on a hot summer day, after a big midday meal.

Bananas, brown sugar, and rum have a natural affinity for each other (think of their shared tropical background), so it's no surprise that they make a wonderful crown for this homespun dessert. The spicy rum flavors of the topping are echoed in the cake itself, making the whole production darker and more interesting than your usual pineapple upside–down affair. Be sure to use just–ripe bananas for this recipe; if you use overly ripe ones, they will dissolve into the cake.

From the delicate calamari to the crunchy celery and crisp greens, this salad is a mélange of wonderful textures. Make sure to use the freshest calamari you can find, and cook it quickly over the hot griddle to keep it as tender as possible.

The Middle East on a flatbread: Turkish meatballs, a tahini-spiked yogurt sauce, and muhammara, a Syrian red pepper spread.

This is a Greek version of hummus that captures the soul of the Mediterranean. For this recipe, be sure to use premium-quality imported sun-dried tomatoes; they should be plump and soft with red hue.

I met twelve-year-old Frank Liranzo when I was teaching a kids' cooking class at the YMCA's environmental camp in Huguenot, New York. The kids learned how to tap trees to make maple syrup, a process I'd read about but never seen in action. Frank was one of the campers, and he got to experience firsthand the old art of making maple syrup. "You put tubes into the trees so the sap flows out," he says. "When it first comes out of the tree, it tastes like sugary water. Then we went to the sugar shack where we saw the sap boiled down until it tasted like syrup." At the camp, I made this Maple-Glazed Tuna with Pear-Potato Salad for the kids. "I thought it would taste really sugary, but it didn't," Frank told me. "First I tasted the fish, then a hint of mustard, and then an aftertaste of the maple syrup." I love how the syrup adds sweetness and a beautiful caramelized crust to the meaty tuna steaks, while the sweetness of the pears in the accompanying potato salad balances nicely with the glazed tuna.

We like to bake this luscious cake in a cast-iron skillet, but you could use a 10-inch ovenproof skillet. Stone-ground yellow cornmeal replaces the traditional wheat flour for an interesting change in texture and flavor.

While the restaurant serves the ultra-spicy salsa alongside hummus, tsatsiki, and baba ghanouj, chef Eric Leyden suggests it as a lively accompaniment to meats and hearty lentil or tomato soups.

Carrots are like a quiet but secretly remarkable child who doesn't attract much attention. Most often they're simply what you throw into a soup or a braised dish to "add a little sweetness." But it's because of that inner sweetness that they're so suited to charring on a chapa. The sugar caramelizes and produces a delicious crust. They are tossed with nutty garlic chips, peppery arugula, and creamy goat cheese.

The French have a saying, "You must watch what you're cooking like milk on the stove," referring, of course, to the fact that milk can boil over in a flash. Case in point: Garlic chips are sweet and nutty when cooked just right, but let them go just a little too long, and they become burnt and acrid.

According to legend, a great chef in Punta del Este, Uruguay, Antonio Carbonada, had an Argentine lady as a regular customer. One day she asked for her favorite sandwich made with goat (chivito in Spanish). There was no goat to be had, so the chef threw together what was on hand—steak, ham, cheese, lettuce, and mayonnaise—and the chivito was born. It is now found everywhere in Uruguay. As with most traditional comfort food, everybody makes their chivito just a little differently. Here's mine.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from I Like Food, Food Tastes Good: In the Kitchen with Your Favorite Bands by Kara Zuaro. Crooked Fingers
from Eric Bachmann When I think back to some of the happiest times of my life, I can hear Eric Bachmann's music playing in the background. His old band, Archers of Loaf, was the car stereo soundtrack to many nights of sipping Slurpees with my best friends in high school. When Archers disbanded, Eric started Crooked Fingers — named for his grandfather's CB handle — and my boyfriend, Pete, played me their first record on our first date. On our first vacation together, we found that our North Carolinian pals were also big Archers of Loaf fans and had actually been to their last show ever. In the dark, junkyard-like backyard of their crappy local bar, they broke out into an a cappella version of "Web in Front," which remains the most joyful, punk rock thing I've ever heard. In that moment, I felt so lucky that my life was happening to me. But, because I'm a bit of a pessimist, I really hoped I'd never meet Eric Bachmann. I feared that no mortal man could measure up to his music and all the memories I had tied up in it. So, when we saw him standing around at SXSW (Austin's springtime indie rock fest), Pete literally had to push me to talk to him about the cookbook. Turns out, Eric has worked in restaurants all his life. He loves to cook, and he mentioned this seared tuna dish, which, by the way, is ridiculously easy to make and very impressive. When he emailed me the recipe, it came with a note that said, "Thanks for allowing me to be a part of your project . . . it's a real honor." The pleasure is all mine.

Comfort food, August-style: A creamed-vegetable stew tastes mighty fine ladled over pillowy biscuits dotted with chives. A store-bought smoked turkey leg deepens the stew's flavor almost effortlessly—its bone and skin go into making the broth (along with the corn cobs and silk), and its meat is stirred into the stew.

Everyone's favorite Polish dumpling. Toothsome, warm, soft, and smothered in caramelized onions—yep, that's the stuff! In NYC, pierogi are a brunch staple. Our Polish diners are a disappearing breed, but you can live the life in your own kitchen. This is one of those time-consuming recipes that will change your life. If you make them once and know what to expect, the next time you make them won't be such a big deal. Because theh ingredients are so simple and unadulterated, choose good-quality, organic potatoes whose flavor packs the most punch.

Whether you're allergic to wheat, giving your tummy a rest, or just want to experiment with tasty and nutritious flours, these pancakes belong at your brunch table. They're light, airy, and really perfect for absorbing lots of maple syrup. Unless you have a gluten allergy, you may not have all these flours sitting around. You can play around with this recipe's flouor ratios pretty interchangeably, so if you need to use all corn flour or all quinoa flour that's okay.