Shellfish

This is one of those odd dishes that are easier to cook than to eat. Blue crabs take a lot of work; but they’re so delicious they’re worth the effort. If you live on the West Coast, you’ll probably use Dungeness crab, which will be easier.

Unless you live in Alaska or know a good fishmonger in the Pacific Northwest, it’s almost impossible to buy Dungeness crab that has not already been cooked. That’s not a problem; they can still be steamed, as they are here. This is a subtle preparation, but Dungeness is so wonderful that’s all it takes. (You can use lobster if you prefer.)

I have seen stuffed squid recipes with forty ingredients, and some are quite good; often, they contain squid ink, which—though hard to find (or to collect from the squid’s sacs)—is undeniably delicious. But those recipes are too time consuming for me. Still, squid—like piquillo peppers—seem to have been created for stuffing. So, over the years, I have devised this simple, sensible procedure, which produces a stuffed squid much like the one I was served a couple of years ago in northern Spain. Beware that squid shrinks significantly during cooking, so be careful to stuff it very loosely; over stuffing may result in burst squid. Great with Peasant-Style Potatoes (page 477) or Potatoes with Bay Leaves (page 481).

The presence of artichokes in Liguria (the “Italian Riviera”) is enough to make you envious; they’re everywhere, they’re good, and everyone seems to know what to do with them. Here’s a simple dish, assuming you can get your hands on some good artichoke hearts. This is wonderful with either crusty bread or a simple rice dish, like Rice with Onions, Garlic, and Herbs (page 518). See page 98 for squid cleaning instructions if you need them.

Among my favorite squid dishes. Although sautéing, stir-frying, and deep-frying are good, fast techniques for squid, they tend to be messy because of squid’s marked tendency to spatter when cooked in oil. A gentle braise in flavorful liquid and seasonings is the perfect alternative, and this one, with its Provençal spirit, is delicious and warming. See page 98 if you buy squid that hasn’t been cleaned. Crusty bread is a must; keep the vegetable simple.

A very, very fast dish, because the squid must be cooked only briefly to prevent toughness. So make your side dishes first; rice is the natural choice, and it will keep perfectly well over low heat while you stir-fry. Thai basil is so unlike Italian basil that they might as well be different herbs; not only does the Thai variety look different, but it is infinitely mintier. If you’re using Italian basil, therefore, you might consider adding a small handful of mint leaves. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla). If your squid hasn’t already been cleaned, see page 98.

This should be hot, garlicky, and spicy, a dish you want to serve over rice or with crusty bread; once the shrimp juices have mingled with it, the sauce is irresistible. Although it’s a perfect weeknight dish, this also makes a great appetizer at a dinner party.

Chipotles are smoked jalapeños, and they’re available dried (soak them in warm water until soft before use) or in cans. When canned, they’re called chiles in adobo; adobo is a red sauce from Veracruz that’s perfect for this dish. Serve this spicy dish with plain white rice and lots of it.

I ate this by the Gulf of Mexico, in a place with pink and avocado-green walls, a mariachi, and an outside shower. It tasted just as good last winter in Connecticut. Serve this, if you like, with Cebollas Curtidas (page 615) or any other relish or salad. Rice is also good, as are French fries.

Along with Cochinita Pibil (page 351), this is among the best uses for the annatto-based Recado Rojo, one of the most beautiful and flavorful sauces in the world. Serve with loads of plain white rice.

Just because I identify a dish with a country doesn’t mean it’s made exclusively there, and chile-fried shrimp is practically universal. So calling this a Mexican dish is a little like calling grilled steak an American dish. But I like to make this with the relatively mild chiles used in Mexico, and I like to serve it with rice and beans, so there it is. This is best made with homemade Chili Powder (page 609), but if you prefer, use a chile powder dominated by ancho or New Mexican chiles, which have warmth but not high levels of heat. Arroz a la Mexicana (page 517) is a great side dish for this, along with a green salad.

I have been making this dish for more than thirty years—it’s one of the first South Asian recipes I learned—and I’ve never stopped loving it. After having a similar preparation in Delhi, I loved it even more. Basically, you coat shrimp with a spicy mix, then with a simple batter. Originally it was deep-fried, but shallow-frying, which uses less oil and makes less of a mess, works just as well. Don’t limit yourself to shrimp here; any seafood— scallops, oysters, clams, or fish fillet—will work wonderfully. Cooking time will remain about the same in almost every case.

The sweetness of coconut milk tames the heat of this quick stew somewhat, but it remains a dish for fans of fiery food. If you cut the number of chiles to one, however, that will change. In any case, you will want a fair amount of plain white rice with this one.

You have an aesthetic choice to make in preparing this dish, which is great as part of a cool meal in summer. Add a couple of Asian-style salads, like Tomato Salad with Ginger (page 173) or Green Papaya Salad (page 174), and you’re in business. The coconut sauce, with its sugar, lemongrass, and chile—all typical Thai flavors— is wonderfully flavorful but stark white. Adding a large pinch of saffron turns it a glorious yellow and adds the distinctive complexity of that spice, a nice touch. If you prefer, you can use some ground turmeric—whose flavor is bitter but not at all unpleasant—or curry powder. Or just leave the sauce as is. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla).

Lemongrass stalks are used as skewers throughout Southeast Asia, where lemongrass grows like . . . well, grass. (It will grow that way for you, too, if you stick a couple of stalks in the ground, especially if you live in a warm climate and keep it well watered.) Simply trim the stalks, skewer the shrimp on them, and grill; you can gnaw on the stalks when you’ve finished the shrimp. Serve these with Nam Prik (page 586) or Soy Dipping Sauce (page 583). For information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla), see page 500.

Tamarind is a large seed pod grown and used in the cuisine of almost every equatorial country. Its pulp is processed into a dark brown paste, which is used as you might tomato paste, concentrated stock, or, for that matter, ketchup—as a simple flavor enhancer that completely changes the nature of the sauce into which it is stirred. You can make your own paste (page 585) or buy the paste now sold in bottles at many Asian stores. (There is also a kind of instant tamarind powder, which is not very good.) The bottled paste is concentrated to increase its strength, so if you use homemade tamarind paste, double the quantity (or add to taste). As for this recipe, you can use the same process to make almost anything in a tamarind sauce, but shrimp, because it requires minimal cooking time, is by far the easiest. I like to brown the shrimp first for a little more flavor, but you could actually start this recipe with the second step and add the shrimp after the onion. The dish is best when quite sour and not—as happens at too many restaurants—a sticky combination of sweet and sour.

A quick little stir-fry, great for a weekday dinner, and especially good if you can get a chunk of country ham, like prosciutto, Serrano, or Smithfield. Great, too, with sautéed Chinese sausages (sold at every Chinese supermarket) in place of ham. With white rice, this makes a nice little meal.

This wrapped dish, best assembled at the table, is great fun, either as a starter or as part of your main meal, and as fitting for a weeknight as tacos. It has a wonderful combination of contrasting flavors and textures: the spicy filling is offset by the sweetness of hoisin sauce and the cool crunch of lettuce.

Though Chinese cabbages, like bok choy and Napa, have become more widely available here, I still prefer this dish with ordinary green cabbage; its crunch is unsurpassed. Serve this with Basic Long-Grain Rice or Fried Rice (page 506).

Because this dish has only two ingredients, finding the best shrimp is of utmost importance. In Hong Kong, where only live fish is considered fresh, live shrimp are common. Here you may find them at some fishmongers (especially in Chinese neighborhoods) and even in some Western supermarkets. The wine traditionally used for this dish in the south of China is Mei Kuei Lu Chiew and is quite strong and a little sweet; you can find it at many Chinese markets. Shopping hassles aside, this dish is worth trying. Serve it with an assortment of other Chinese dishes or as a starter.