Bon Appétit

It's Basque chefs like Juan Mari Arzak and Martin Berasategui who grab the headlines for their culinary pyrotechnics (think of their food as the culinary equivalent of the Gehry-designed Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao). But what you may not realize is that the Basque country is also a hotbed of grilling—done by and large with a simplicity that stands in striking contrast to the foams, jellies, and deconstructions of Spain's culinary avant-garde. A sprinkle of sea salt, a splash of vinegar or olive oil—these are the seasonings favored by the majority of Basque grill masters. Consider this simple grilled cod topped with olive oil and fried garlic—inspired by Beti-Jai ("always a holiday"), a popular restaurant tucked away in the warren of narrow streets in the old quarter of Donostia-San Sebastián.

Shawarma is the Middle Eastern version of a large vertical shish kebab known as doner kebab in Turkey and gyro in Greece. It's made by impaling layers of meat on an oversize spit with a flat base and roasting the meat in an upright rotisserie. There are at least three advantages to this singular method of cooking. The dripping fat bastes the meat below it; the meat is sliced to order (at least it should be) from the outside, which gives every customer a crusty end cut; and because the crusty meat slices are piled on pita bread with fresh vegetables, pickles, and tahini sauce, you get a whole meal—and a healthful one—in a single sandwich. Traditionally, shawarma was made with lamb, but more and more Israeli grill masters use thinly sliced chicken or turkey. Shawarma is easy to prepare if you have a vertical rotisserie, and somewhat more challenging to adapt to the home grill. But direct-grilling the turkey slices does give you a close approximation of the taste and texture of classic shawarma.

If you've got some fresh-caught trout, we know just what to do with it. This incredible main-plus-side requires very few ingredients and is easy enough to make at your campsite or cabin. (And you can use store-bought, too: In that case, you should ask your fishmonger to bone and butterfly the whole trout for you.)

Sesame seed sauce is a popular condiment throughout the Middle East. It's especially prized in Israel, because Jewish dietary laws prohibit mixing meat and dairy products. Thus, the yogurt and cucumber or yogurt and mint sauce served with grilled lamb in Turkey and Lebanon would not be consumed by observant Jewish barbecue buffs in Israel. But tahini has the creaminess and tangy taste associated with yogurt. This recipe originally accompanied Turkey Shawarma .

Travel the world's barbecue trail and you’ll find meat on a stick almost everywhere. South Africa's version goes by the Afrikaans name sosatie. Like all good Cape Malay meat dishes, fruit and curry are never far off—the former (usually apricots) interspersed with the meat on the skewers, the latter used to flavor the marinade and sauce. "Cape Malay," by the way, refers to the descendants of Indonesian and Malaysian slaves and indentured servants brought to Cape Town to work in farming. "There is perhaps no other single dish that can be regarded as more genuinely Afrikaans than sosaties," wrote South African poet and food writer C. Louis Leipoldt. Writing in the 1940s, Leipoldt was to Afrikaans food what James Beard was to our own. Like all great food writers, Leipoldt dispensed not only recipes but the wisdom gleaned from considering cooking a manifestation of culture. The following sosaties are based on Leipoldt's.

Colombia may be the best kept barbecue secret in South America. Sure, Argentina gets the attention for its cowboy-style asado. And Brazil has enjoyed spectacular success exporting its rodizio-style restaurants—the kind where the waiters parade spits of grilled meats through the dining room. But Colombia? I doubt that most North Americans could name a single Colombian grilled dish. Well, it's time to shine the spotlight on the only country in South America to have coasts on both the Atlantic and the Pacific, whose cool-weather ranching district produces well-marbled, full-flavored beef, whose grill masters make extensive use of marinades (unlike the simplicity prized by their Argentine counterparts), and whose mastery of the art of grilling on charcoal extends to some unique techniques. Here's a not-so simple flank steak redolent of cumin, green onions, and beer.

For more of a bite, add two to three teaspoons of whole grain mustard along with the olive oil.

A roasted garlic and red pepper relish replaces the usual pickle in this Spanish take on hot dogs.

Top these delicious bite-size cheesecakes with fresh raspberries, blackberries, strawberries, and/or blueberries.

These brown-sugar brownies have a lovely cakey texture. For an extradecadent dessert, top each blondie with a scoop of ice cream, drizzle with caramel or chocolate sauce, and sprinkle with peanuts.

The sweet and savory jam is terrific served on grilled baguette slices that are brushed with olive oil and topped with aged goat cheese.

To read of my travels, you might get the impression that for most of the last three years, I've done nothing but prowl night markets and food stalls. True, a lot of great grilling takes place at these markets, but you can also find some pretty amazing barbecue at luxury resorts. One such place is Amandari, a hotel built right into a rice paddy near the artist town of Ubud, Bali. There, a team of chefs cooks glorious grilled dishes such as grilled shrimp with fiery lemongrass sambal, Balinese grilled chicken, and whole grilled fish with makrut lime leaves.

An all-new version of franks and beans: The dogs are topped with lentils and an innovative take on raita, India's ubiquitous yogurt-based condiment. If you’d like to use naan (tandoor-baked flatbread) instead of hot dog buns, look for it at Trader Joe's stores—in both the bakery and the frozen foods aisle—or at Indian markets.

Mojo is a Cuban sauce made from the juice of sour oranges (or, in this case, a mix of orange juice and lime juice). It's truly versatile—the sauce works as a marinade or salsa for beef, fish, pork, and poultry—so no wonder it tastes great with hot dogs, too.

A sprinkling of sweetened coconut tempers the tangy lime filling.

These kid-size burgers have the cheese on the inside. Serve with your favorite burger accompaniments.

Musa Dagdeviren is the go-to guy if you want to know about Turkish barbecue. Spend a couple of hours with him in the open kitchen of one of his Çiya restaurants (in Istanbul), and you'll wonder if there's anything he doesn't know about Turkish cuisine, let alone grilling. He'll start with chicken thighs marinated in creamy Turkish yogurt, chile paste, and garlic—to be grilled on skewers over charcoal. Before you know it, he's grilling meatballs, quinces, shallots, even bread dough loaded with ground beef. Here’s one of the "simpler" dishes in Musa's repertoire—if simple means merely marinated, spice-crusted, and grilled—and the combination of creamy yogurt, pungent garlic, and smoky pepper flakes produces the sort of chicken that has made the Turks the Near East's undisputed grill masters for centuries.