Starter

This would make a lovely brunch dish, but you could serve it as an appetizer, too, with some toasted or grilled bread and a glass of sparkling. The quenelle of crème fraîche is made using two spoons like paddles to shape softer ingredients into an oval or a football. For a throwback to dot.com excess, pile some caviar on top if you like. If you aren’t feeling fancy, just dollop the crème fraîche on top instead.

In this fabulous crudo, baby fennel and radish offset the sweetness of the geoduck. This dish has an especially lovely texture to it, with the silken geoduck intermingling with the shaved vegetables. Serve with crusty bread to soak up all the goodness.

The only way to improve upon a fried artichoke is to shower it with fried-garlic breadcrumbs, making a hands-on dish a little bit messier and a lot tastier. This is a great little antipasto, excellent with a light white wine or served with cold beer for a ballgame snack that ranks more than a few steps above nachos. Eat the larger leaves just as you would if you had a bowl of melted butter sitting right there, scraping the leaves against your teeth. The tender stems and inner leaves can be eaten whole.

Some people will tell you that it’s okay to make carne cruda, known as “steak tartare” in fancy French circles, in a food processor. Sorry, no go. You don’t chop it, pulse it, or otherwise mangle it. You freeze it, slice it, crosscut it, and dice it. Period. Yes, chopping the meat by hand requires patience, but it creates the perfect texture. Freezing the meat beforehand makes this job easier. This is one of those recipes where you must use the very best ingredients you can find—the best olive oil, the best imported anchovies—to take this crudo over the top. Buy the best New York strip or tenderloin you can afford, and tell your butcher how you’re serving the meat to ensure you get the very best. For a light meal, serve with plenty of crusty bread and a small salad.

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.

This cooking method only works with the very first favas of spring—the ones that are thin skinned enough to be eaten whole. Not only is this a light, crunchy, and addictive snack, but it’s also a nice way to enjoy fava beans without all the fuss. For dipping, mild green garlic makes for an aioli that doesn’t overwhelm the favas’ sweet flavor.

Tongues have an awesome richness that goes completely underappreciated because people don’t serve them, fearing a food that can taste them. That’s silly. Tongues are cheap and delicious, and enjoyment of this unique cut is all in the preparation. Once I found a reliable tongue source, I was elated, and I started putting them on the restaurant menus in an attempt to win more converts. For this dish, the meat does need a while to cook, but you can poach them up to a day in advance.

I love broiling Kusshis not only because they have a lovely, delicate texture and a good brininess, but also because they have deeply cupped shells that hold both liquid and a lot of delicious breadcrumbs. Cherrystone clams would be a great substitute, and Totten Virginica, Barron Point, or Shigoku oysters would also work well, because they are the right size to hold up to the heat. Save tiny Kumomotos for eating on the half shell.

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.

Anytime I go to Galotoire’s, in New Orleans, I start by ordering a round of their legendary fried eggplant. The thing that makes it special—and so distinctly New Orleansian—is the strange but delicious mix of confectioners’ sugar and Tabasco sauce that is served on the side, for dipping.

We had fried okra almost nightly at my grandmother’s house during the summer. It’s my mom’s idea of a green vegetable, how can you fault her? It is green, underneath the golden, deep-fried crust.

I’ve shared recipes for fried green tomatoes before, but each time I’ve tried to gussy them up by adding herbs or layering them with other ingredients. I like those dishes, of course, but the fact is there is something wonderful about making fried green tomatoes the way my mother and grandmother made them—that is, simply. Stripped of nonessentials, the warm tartness of green tomatoes, tempered by a hint of sugar, and the toasted crunch of cornmeal crust shine through in perfect balance.

The addition of tender yellow squash lends nice texture and sweetness to these savory little balls of fried goodness. If you plan to serve them in the traditional manner with fried fish—try frying them in the same oil as the fish; this will add an extra layer of flavor and make for less cleanup.

The contrasting flavors, textures, and colors make this vibrant summertime dish a feast for the eyes as well as the mouth. It is tops served with a fried egg for breakfast, and you can turn it into a filling lunch or dinner by scattering the cakes with grilled shrimp or chicken breast.

My friend Phyllis from Mississippi makes this vibrant and creamy squash soup when she comes to visit us in the summer. It’s such a quick and easy way to make use of fast-growing summer squash that it’s bound to become one of your summer staples, too.

No matter how many tomato sandwiches, salads, or platters of thick, salted slices we eat, come August we can never seem to keep up with the overabundance of tender-ripe Beefsteaks, Early Girls, Cherokee Purples, and Arkansas Travelers taking up semi-permanent residence on the kitchen counter. Everyone develops a strategy for the happy problem of too many tomatoes: in some people it inspires bouts of generous and indiscriminate gift giving; in others, a frenzy of canning and freezing. This light and satisfying take on cream of tomato soup is my favorite solution.

A nice splash of brandy adds depth of flavor to this creamy pâté, which is just right served on crostini, toast points (see Know-how, page 19), or Cornbread Toasts (page 18) topped with Sweet Pickle Relish (page 299). For the best results, start with fresh livers from the butcher or farmer’s market that haven’t been frozen. Note that the chicken livers must soak in buttermilk for several hours prior to cooking.

Like many Southerners, I have a fig tree—huge, old, gnarled, and prized—that bears bucketfuls of plump, grassy-sweet figs each summer. So sweet, in fact, that they draw not only the usual birds and squirrels, but also a certain stealthy neighbor who must surely keep as close a watch on the fruits’ ripening as we do. Shake it up with a SAZERAC (see page 28)

These flavor-infused pecans somehow manage to be crunchy, sweet, savory, and spicy—all at the same time. It’s a dangerously addictive combination that also happens to play well with just about every cocktail it meets. For pretty party favors or stocking stuffers, package these fragrant nibbles in sheer organza or cellophane bags tied with colored ribbons. Shake it up with a MINT JULEP (see page 27)