No-Cook

Two things you should know about me and carpaccio: First, I don’t like carpaccio you can see through; I cut mine a little thicker, which gives it better texture and body. Second, I like my carpaccio loaded, the way some people think of nachos or pizza. Here I use some bococcini de pecorino that we keep in the restaurants and some tender baby arugula, but you could use shaved porcini mushrooms, shaved raw artichokes, or sautéed chanterelles—whatever you like. Just load it up.

Many Southerners keep a steady supply of no-fuss cucumber pickles like these in the fridge all through the summer. They’re great because you don’t even have to turn on the stove: just toss everything together, let it all marinate for a few hours, and you’re good to go. Mild and crunchy, they are sort of a cross between cucumber salad and dill pickles, meaning they’re perfect scattered over a simple green salad with Buttermilk Green Goddess Dressing (page 284), layered in Pimiento Cheese Burgers (page 187) or Pickled Jalapeño Meatloaf (page 191) sandwiches, or placed in a little dish and added to a relish tray.

On a recent visit to South Carolina, I was lucky enough to visit Clemson University to try some of its famous blue cheese. The university first started making its tangy, marbled cheese in the 1940s, when a dairy professor realized that the cool, dank tunnel of an unfinished local railway line would make the perfect curing environment. Although the operations have since moved indoors, Clemson continues to make its Roquefort-style cheese in small batches using the same artisanal methods (see Sources, page 377). At the campus cafes, you can try everything from blue cheese pizza to blue cheese milkshakes. This rich, creamy dressing was inspired by the flavor of Clemson blue cheese—but in a pinch, any Roquefort-style cheese will do.

A classic of the West Coast, this dressing was created in the 1920s by San Francisco’s Palace Hotel in honor of a play by the same name. With buttermilk standing in for sour cream, my “Southern” version is light, tangy, and chock-full of green herbs. It’s the quintessential spring and summer dressing, and because it’s all about using the freshest herbs—whether dill, chervil, sorrel, or cilantro—I almost never make it the same way twice.

This creamy, tangy descendant of Thousand Island and remoulade originated in the Greek restaurants of Jackson, Mississippi. From there it spread like wildfire to every salad, burger, fried fish, and French fry in the surrounding five counties and beyond. Most anything edible makes an acceptable receptacle for my friend Phyllis’s version.

I grew up eating most salads with Italian dressing or plain old oil and vinegar, which was the closest I came to vinaigrette. But now I can’t live without vinaigrettes; they’re so easy and flavorful. Here is one of my favorites, which I often make with the dregs from a jar of mustard that would otherwise have been thrown away.

This simple, basil-spiked mayo is one of my favorite variations on the basic recipe. It’s an easy way to add creamy pesto flavor to sandwiches and dips.

I take a cue from Granny Foster and make it a practice always to keep a jar of homemade mayonnaise in the fridge. Once you realize how easy it is to make—and how much richer the flavor—you’ll never go back. After you’ve made this basic mayo, you can use it to create a plethora of easy dipping sauces and spreads simply by blending in flavorful herbs, spices, and relishes.

I first tried this when Bill Smith, chef of the famed Crook’s Corner restaurant in Chapel Hill, North Carolina, made a similar salad for a magazine feature. I know what you’re probably thinking—strange combination, right? But let me tell you, it really works. As much as I trust Bill’s palate, even I was surprised by how well the mild-sweet melon and acid-sweet tomato went together. I have since made many variations using different kinds of melons, tomatoes, herbs, and cheese, but this one is my all-time favorite.

This simple and refreshing salad is what I crave on especially hot summer days in North Carolina, when even the trees begin to droop and I can’t bear the thought of turning on the oven. That’s the only time to make it, since it’s also when the tomatoes and cucumbers are at their peak and growing like weeds. Have fun mixing and matching colors and shapes using the many varieties—both familiar and strange—that you’re apt to find at your local farmer’s market.

Southerners just love beets—perhaps because beets are one of the rare vegetables that will grow in the South straight through spring and summer and all the way into the fall. But I like to make this jewel-toned salad best in the spring, when you can get multicolor carrots, like Yellowstones, Purple Dragons, Atomic Reds, and Yayas, and beets, like Boros, Bulls’ Bloods, and Candy Stripes.

I created this delicate slaw to showcase the vegetables—curlicue pea shoots, tender carrots, spicy arugula, and fresh herbs—that mark the arrival of spring.

This rich sauce adds cool heat to Friday Night Steak Sandwiches (page 188), Crispy Fried Oysters Four Ways (page 117), and Foster Family’s Pot Roast with Herb-Roasted Vegetables (page 199).