Seafood

It can be hard to gauge what's happening under all that salt, but these times are accurate. If your fish is on the smaller side, take it out on the lower end of the range.

This method works well with other fish. Substitute salmon or fresh trout for the char if you like.

Morales insists it's not a Russian party without this retro seafood salad on the table.

Purists will tell you this just gets better with time, so prepare it in advance of your party.

Even if you're not an oyster person, you'll love this buttery, broiled approach.

This dish is only as good as the crab it's made with; buy the freshest you can find.

When my wife, Julie, and I got married, we knew there was only one place to go for our honeymoon: Italy. I was excited to take her to Gombitelli, the tiny town in the mountains near Lucca where my dad's side of the family came from. My great-grandparents, Angelo and Olimpia Gemignani, had left Gombitelli for America at the turn of the last century, and my Grandpa Frank was born right after they got off the boat. We meandered through the Tuscan countryside, following increasingly sketchy gravel roads and finally ending up on a narrow donkey trail that wound up the side of a steep mountain. I remembered this road from a visit I'd made seven years earlier. Since then, it seemed to have eroded and gotten even narrower. It was barely wide enough for a car, with a sheer drop along one side and, naturally, no guardrail. We came to a dead end, the front of the car facing a deep ravine, and an old man came out of his house, waving violently and screaming at us in Italian. I rolled down the window and said "Gemignani?" His expression changed from rage to joy as he motioned to follow him and raced off, back down the road, yelling "Gemignani! Gemignani!" I made the most terrifying U-turn of my life and followed him. The minute I saw the little house and farm, I had the same overwhelming feeling I'd had the first time I'd been there. It was like stepping into my grandpa's farm in California. Although he'd never even been to Italy, he had the blood of a Tuscan contadino—and there in front of me was his backyard in every detail: the same flowers, the lemon tree, the dogwood, the fava beans, the big wine jugs wrapped in straw, the rusty tools scattered around. That California farm and my grandpa are long gone, but in that moment, I was home again. My cousins had decided there was one thing they absolutely had to serve us for our welcome meal: pizza, of course. And this is the one they made. It was quite thin, almost like a toasted flatbread, and I've replicated that in this recipe by rolling the dough out and docking it, so you get a light, crisp crust that's just right with the gutsy puttanesca-style combination of crushed tomatoes, olives, garlic, and anchovies.

Brighten up simply broiled salmon steaks with an unexpected salsa of poblano chiles, capers, and lemon.

If you like stuffing with smoked oysters, you'll like it even more with tart lemons on top.

This old-school, rectangular pizza bakes right in a sheet tray. The flavorful, doughy crust is thicker than the more standard thin-crusted Neapolitan-style pies.

Slow-roasting halibut and leeks in olive oil is one of the easiest, most elegant ways to serve fish at a dinner party.

A good fritto misto crust is light and crunchy (thanks, cornstarch!). If the batter thickens as you work, thin it with a bit of soda water as needed.

This is one of my favorite ways to prepare salmon. The marinade in this recipe is the perfect combination of spicy, sweet, and savory—in fact, I also love to use it with steaks or chicken. The Sriracha sauce (aka rooster sauce) is a must, and you can find it in the Asian section of most supermarkets.

For a dish that's easy to eat (and still has that classic barbeque-shrimp presentation), peel the shrimp, leaving the heads and tails on, before adding them to the sauce. If you leave the shrimp out, then you have a great New Orleans barbeque sauce recipe. Try substituting poached oysters for the shrimp.

Chipotle aioli and sushi-grade tuna crown these modern tostadas, which come from Contramar, a lauded Mexico City seafood restaurant.

Telmo grew up in a Mexican neighborhood in San Jose, California. On warm evenings, he could be found at a busy roadside seafood joint called La Costa spooning up refreshing bites of coctel de camarón, or "shrimp cocktail." Served in a tall Styrofoam cup, the La Costa cocktail combines a sweet (but not cloying), tangy, and spicy tomato-based sauce, briny poached shrimp, avocado, cucumber, and pico de gallo, all topped with some shakes of a salsa picante and served with tostadas or saltine crackers. Our version is made with roasted fresh tomatoes instead of the traditional ketchup to brighten it up. The resulting sauce is more like a gazpacho than the typical country club-style cocktail sauce. The cocktail can be assembled a couple of hours ahead of time, but not too far in advance, as the shrimp becomes rubbery if left in the lime juice for too long. To make this shrimp cocktail into easy party fare, spoon it onto small store-bought tostadas, garnish with a little cilantro, and serve.

You can use any firm fish and fresh shellfish you like for this brothy stew. (A little crabmeat is a luxurious addition, as well.) Make the base a day in advance for a low-stress Christmas dinner.