No-Cook

Most oysters are farmed, but Apalachicola oysters are harvested from some of the only wild oyster beds left in American waters, near Apalachicola, Florida. This area of the Gulf of Mexico is known as Florida’s “Forgotten Coast.” For generations, residents of the Florida panhandle have made their livelihood working the Apalachicola Bay and surrounding waters. The area’s real claim to fame may be oysters, but every Southerner should raise a chilled glass of sweet tea to Dr. John Gorrie. The kind doctor thought Apalachicola summers were too hot for his patients and was a pioneer in the invention of the artificial manufacture of ice, refrigeration, and air-conditioning (he was granted a patent in 1851 for the first ice maker). This simple, peppery, vinegar sauce is a classic French accompaniment to freshly shucked oysters.

Honey is a fine example of the French concept of terroir—quite literally, a little bit of the earth of the surrounding area is imparted to every jar of honey. Dede loved honey and enjoyed it on his toast or biscuits. When I grew older and started to travel, I would always bring home a jar of the local honey as a gift for him. Although he has long since passed away, I have continued the tradition and always bring home a jar of local honey as a memento when I travel. The shelf in my cupboard resembles an amber rainbow. I once had a bit of pecan-crusted goat cheese left over from another recipe and served it the next day, nestled in a quartered fresh fig and drizzled with honey—that’s how this recipe was born.

Summer is unthinkable without watermelon. As children, my sister and I would stand for what seemed like hours on the back steps and eat and eat and eat chilled wedges of homegrown watermelon. The seed-spitting contests were fierce. As we were often barefoot and playing in the dirt, the watermelon juice served as an adhesive for a fine dusting of red Georgia clay. We would get so sticky and messy, we were barred from the house until we’d washed off with the hose. And, if we didn’t do a good job, Meme was more than happy to help. This watermelon salad is decidedly grown-up enough to eat indoors (barring any seed-spitting challenges). Spiking watermelon with vodka is an old trick, but the crème de cassis—a Burgundian liqueur made from black currants—elevates this to the extraordinary.

No salad screams “summer” louder than this one. The combination of tomatoes with freshly chopped herbs is a testament to my philosophy of simple recipes executed with the best possible ingredients. Heirloom tomatoes are grown from non-hybrid, open-pollinated seeds, and are the varieties that have been passed down through the generations by farmers and gardeners around the world. They are far superior to the red-colored tennis balls available in most grocery stores. If you cannot find heirloom tomatoes, use a ripe tomato from your garden, a good produce market, or a farmer’s market. Be sure to look for a regional goat cheese and support your local farmer. Other cheeses to consider for this recipe include briny cubes of feta or mild, creamy fresh mozzarella.

We bought my grandmother a food processor, but she continued to use her hand-cranked shredder for grating. Made of cast aluminum, it was a sturdy beast that attached to the counter with a vise. She would peel the carrots and Dede would patiently shred them into a large bowl for carrot slaw. This recipe is a bit more complex in flavor and technique than Meme’s, and I use a food processor to shred the vegetables. Just make sure you shred the carrots first! To prevent the beets from staining the carrots when mixed in the salad, the key is to dress the beets before combining with the carrots. This seals in their red pigments (betalains), which don’t dissolve in oil.

Céleri rémoulade—shredded celeriac (celery root) in a mayonnaise-based dressing— is the French version of slaw. Peel a celeriac bulb with a chef’s knife, trimming away the gnarled brown skin to expose the pale flesh. Once peeled, it should be rubbed with lemon or soaked in acidulated water to prevent browning.

Except for the mayonnaise, this Asian-inspired slaw is very un-Southern. The combination of flavors and colors makes a grand addition to any summer picnic. Mirin is a sweet, low-alcohol rice wine, essentially “cooking sake.” Believe it or not, soy sauce actually did make it into Meme’s kitchen. She was once featured in an article in the local newspaper, and, I suppose, thinking her simple country recipes were not appropriate for the “big time,” she included a recipe for her stir-fry. It was a combination of broccoli, carrots, and snow peas, with soy sauce as a seasoning. The recipe might have been “exotic” back then, but Meme’s stir-fry technique was pure South: the vegetables cooked for a very un-stir-fry length of time—20 minutes!

There are three kinds of Southern slaws: barbecue slaw, cole slaw, and yellow slaw. Barbecue slaw is a western North Carolina tradition made with chopped cabbage, pungent vinegar, and red pepper. Cole slaw is what most people in Georgia consider slaw—primarily cabbage and mayonnaise. Yellow, or mustard, slaw is more commonly found in South Carolina and eastern North Carolina (its main ingredients are cabbage and mustard). Try a spoonful of this slaw on Pulled Pork Sandwiches with Mama’s Barbecue Sauce (page 81) for a sloppy, glorious treat.

No holiday in our family would be complete without this refreshing fruit salad. My grand-father Dede would patiently grate the fresh coconut on a box grater, also put to use for the obligatory coconut cake. My sister, Jona, would sit, fidgeting, on the stool in the kitchen waiting for a sip of the coconut juice. Once the coconut was grated, Dede would peel and segment enough oranges to make gallons of this exquisite concoction. Although Dede did all the work (with a little help from Jona), I’ve named this dish for Meme, because she loved it and he made it for her. Use this simple recipe as the starting point for creating your own version. Always use fresh coconut, not flaked, canned, bagged, or frozen.

The “pâté of the South,” pimento cheese is the epitome of a summer picnic delight. Everyone has a slightly different recipe, but the primary ingredients remain the same. Don’t be tempted to buy grated cheese, because the end result won’t be creamy enough. Try this stuffed in tomatoes, slathered on a celery stick, or (one of my favorites) straight from the bowl on a spoon.

This uncooked tomato sauce is a staple in the Mexican kitchen and is often served in small bowls and placed on tables as a condiment. It is a simple sauce to prepare, just be careful not to overprocess because it’s meant to be a rustic sauce with a coarse texture.

This recipe is commonly referred to as Pico de Gallo (rooster’s beak). I suppose it is because the ingredients are all chopped up as if they were broken up by a bird’s beak. It is one of my favorites since it is not only delicious but also low fuss. Don’t worry about chopping the vegetables into uniform sizes or shapes and certainly don’t feel compelled to measure any of the ingredients. This chunky sauce goes well with almost every Mexican dish and is the classic accompaniment to serve with tortilla chips.

This has become my favorite sauce—for now. Its fresh flavor, vibrant color, and slight heat (which you can control with the amount of jalapeños you add) are the reasons why. And once you discover how easy it is to prepare and how long it keeps in the refrigerator, I don’t doubt it will become a favorite of yours, too.

Watercress is such a hearty and flavorful green that it is best when it stands alone, which is why this is basically a green salad. It is also a great accompaniment to any dish in this book—or any Mexican dish—because it is assertive enough to stand up to bold flavors. And don’t think the dressing is to be used just for salads—it makes a great sandwich spread or vegetable dip.

This salad is as crunchy as it is tangy, which makes it the perfect refreshing complement to any Mexican dish. While the salad is very flavorful, it is not overpowering and can offer freshness and texture to a menu. Feel free to omit the cucumber or substitute radish, carrot, or any other hearty vegetable that won’t wilt after being left to marinate in lime juice.

While ceviche has become increasingly popular in the United States, it has been a staple in the Mexican kitchen for decades. Traditionally fresh fish is “cooked” by the acid of lime juice and flavored with red onion, jalapeño, and cilantro. Ceviche makes a fresh and light start to any meal. This is a good basic ceviche recipe, but feel free to make it your own by adding other aromatic ingredients, such as fresh ginger or tomato.

I used to eat these all the time as an after-school snack. Who knew I was actually paying homage to another generation? Make them with or without the pickles; it doesn’t matter.

Beets are a highly underused vegetable in the United States. In Europe you can buy whole cooked beets in any grocery store, but since here you have to buy them raw and cook them, I opt for canned beets to make this simple salad.

I love this coleslaw and, of course, any German meal has to include cabbage of some sort. I like to make it with cider vinegar because it’s a little sweeter, but my dad likes it made with white wine vinegar so it’s a little tangier. Use whichever suits your taste.

Tapenade is essentially puréed olives with other flavorings added. This is a pretty mild version, but if you like the sharp taste of Kalamata olives, feel free to add more.