Dairy Free

Juicy ripe peaches and beautiful pink salmon scream summer. A little curry paste and herbs keep this sweet- spicy curry squarely in the savory realm, and a drizzle of reduced coconut cream cools things off.

This dish is inspired by a Thai-Chinese favorite, bami haeng, served from food carts and casual open-air eateries in Thailand.

Made with water, milk, or a combination, the beverage is also made with ground toasted corn, fermented corn, rice, oatmeal, or mature corn cooked in ashes.

Masa is the essence of Mexico. It is the foundation of Mexican cooking. In Oaxaca, a lot of families still make their own nixtamal at home to supply their daily masa consumption. Nixtamal is the process of treating dried corn with an alkaline solution to make it more nutritious. Slaking lime—also known as pickling lime, a naturally occurring mineral compound—has been used for thousands of years for this process. After a night of soaking, the nixtamalized corn is ground and transformed into masa. This technique has been passed from generation to generation, especially in Oaxaca. Every night before my mom goes to bed, she nixtamalizes a batch of corn so she can make fresh masa the next morning. It’s part of her nightly routine.    The trickiest part of making masa might be grinding it, and for that I recommend a tabletop wet stone mill or a hand-cranked wet grinder. I like Premier’s Small Wonder 1.5-liter tabletop wet grinder.    Believe me, there is nothing more fulfilling than making your own masa at home.

This Indonesian plate of blanched vegetables, boiled eggs, and tofu is served with a spicy, tangy, and slightly sweet peanut sauce for drizzling and dipping. Add salty-savory shrimp chips for scooping.

This peanut sauce recipe is based on my mom's version, which accompanies Gado Gado. Raw peanuts are roasted on the stovetop or in the oven, and then ground. You'll also have to hunt down tamarind pulp and lime leaves, but it's worth the trouble—the addition of freshly roasted peanuts and fragrant herbs makes for unsurpassed flavor.

Sharp and sweet, rhubarb and beets were made for one another, and this soup is a fitting celebration of their union.

I long for the flavor of tamales de elote, made with puréed fresh corn kernels. But our starchy, flavorful Mexican corn cannot be replaced with United States sweet corn, which creates a terribly insipid, watery effect. So I evolved something a little different using a regular masa mixture with fresh corn kernels and seasonings beaten in.

Though the amount of salt may seem excessive, a lot of the salt will be lost when the mixture is steamed inside the tamal wrapping. You can reduce the amount somewhat, but remember that the particular flavor of masa in tamales is complemented by salt.

This smoky chipotle and tomatillo salsa is an excellent dipping sauce for crudités or tortilla chips, or you can spoon it on top of tamales. You can use more chiles for a spicier sauce.

The double-flip method makes the tortillas puff beautifully once you get the rhythm.

It’s a shame you don't often spot people grilling carrots, because they also grill beautifully, developing a char that balances out their sweetness.

The Thai-inspired dressing—tart and spicy and salty—plays up the sweetness of watermelon and berries while keeping the fruit salad firmly in savory territory.

Low and slow is more than just grillmaster jargon; it’s also an invaluable currency when it comes to grilling truly tender pork spareribs.

The underlying notes of vanilla and nutmeg—found in Coca-Cola—are layered with piquant aromatics and tangy tomato ketchup to produce a barbecue sauce that's remarkably dynamic. 

This barbecue sauce recipe combines bright ginger and sharp Dijon mustard.

Vibrantly colored, mouth-watering collard-peanut pesto adds flair to this dish that brings out the best of garden-fresh zucchini and other squashes.

Avocado leaves are the aroma of Oaxaca, and they are the main flavor in this indispensable staple. So many things can be created out of this little bean paste flavored with anise-y avocado tree leaves. It is the base for memelas, tlayudas, molletes, enfrijoladas, and so much more. Growing up, we stopped at the market in Tlacolula—a small village located near Oaxaca City—just to buy the paste, already made, in little plastic bags. You buy some tasajo, you grill it, you get some fresh tlayudas, some salsa, and then you spread some of this paste all over your tortilla like it is a savory cake frosting.

Chances are, if you're not Oaxaqueño and grew up in this last generation in Mexico or the United States, you’ve probably been taught to think that pork fat like aciento—Oaxacan-style chicharrón paste—is not good for you, and that you should always cook and eat things made with a plant-based oil instead. It’s normal to think this way. That is, until you go to Oaxaca and see that aciento is a way of life and that a lot of elders live to be more than one hundred years old eating the stuff on a daily basis. You’ll also realize that it is amazingly flavorful and really completes a lot of masa-based Oaxacan dishes such as tlayudas, memelas, empanadas, and chochoyotes. Think of it as a Oaxacan brown butter. If you do it right, it should taste nutty and toasty, not like lard or like fat. I also understand that a lot of people may not have the time to properly render chicharrón into a paste, so this shortcut version using olive oil is much quicker and tastes almost as good. If you can’t find or don’t have access to fresh chicharrón, American-style pork rinds also work well.