Memorial Day

Stephen Cellar, R. B.’s hungry nephew, asked R. B. where he got that awesome red sauce we had served with burgers at a family picnic. Having grown up in the sophisticated chipotle-buffalo-ranch-bruschetta drive-through era, Stephen didn’t recognize that good old twentieth-century American favorite, “special sauce.” When we grew up, McDonald’s special sauce on a Big Mac was the first condiment other than mustard, ketchup, and mayonnaise that anyone considered for a burger. Way before pesto, sun-dried tomatoes, and made-up foreign-sounding food names, even the pedestrian “special sauce” was fancy enough to attract attention. How long did it take us to figure out that it was just like Thousand Island dressing? The mystery ingredient was chili sauce, that misnamed cousin to ketchup shelved beside the cocktail sauces. It looks and tastes like ketchup, but not quite as sweet or silky smooth and without any apparent chili flavor. For a fancy presentation, serve bunless chopped-steak burgers alongside crisp iceberg wedges and ripe tomato slices adorned with thinly sliced red onion, crumbled bacon, and Fridge Door Special Sauce. Or, slather over burgers topped with lettuce, cheese, pickles, and onions on a sesame seed bun. It’s so old, it’s new again.

These are an excellent choice for late summer when fresh tomatoes are at their besto.

The hobo crock method was inspired by R. B.’s Boy Scout campout foil hobo-pack cuisine. Cheater hobo crock meats take advantage of this simple method for infusing foods with flavor and trapping moisture. Meats are tightly wrapped with seasonings and bottled smoke and placed in a slow cooker. The cool thing is that you won’t open the pack to find a pile of soggy skin and bones, as you might expect. The chicken maintains its structure, browns on top, and can be carved and sliced. This method will also successfully tame a beef brisket (page 113). Indoors or out, the only issue we have is over the grade of aluminum foil for wrapping the bird. R. B. requires heavy duty—one of those barbecue guy things. Min uses the thinner, everyday stuff because she knows that the juices are going to leak into the crock anyway, so who cares whether the cheaper foil springs a hole or two.

The stated purpose of my junior year abroad was to study at the famous London School of Economics, but the first thing I did when I got to England was land a part-time job at the Roux brothers’ (also famous) restaurant, Le Mazarin. Of all the challenges of living abroad, I never thought I’d have a problem finding something decent to eat. Boy, was I wrong. While the food we served guests at Le Mazarin was topnotch, staff meals were a different story. Stripped chicken carcasses, limp vegetable trimmings, and, if we were lucky, a box of just-add-water mashed-potato flakes were the components of just about every meal. The rest of London wasn’t offering many great options either at that time. Fish and chips and heavy pub fare dominated the food scene in the late eighties, before Britain’s culinary renaissance. The one thing I found worth eating (and could afford on the £10 a week my job paid) was scones with clotted cream and strawberries. And that’s exactly what I ate, for 6 straight months. After so many meals of strawberries and cream, it’s a wonder that I still love that combination. Panna cotta (“cooked cream”), a silken, eggless Italian custard, is an easy-to-make complement to perfectly ripe berries. I’ve added crème fraîche to the traditional recipe to balance the strawberries’ sweetness with some tang. You can make the panna cotta in individual ramekins and unmold them just before serving or make it in a large gratin dish and spoon it out at the table family-style.

There’s a moment in late May when something in the air shifts. Fava beans and other spring treats are still plentiful and the evenings are still cool, but change is coming. The air at the farmers’ market is suddenly humid with the scent of basil. Small piles of cherry tomatoes, summer squash, and fresh beans show up on the folding tables beside mounds of fresh corn. It’s as if summer is testing the waters, seeing if we’re ready, because it can hardly hold back any longer. Before changing my spring menu to summer, I sample a few beans, checking for crunch. I peel back a cornhusk, bite into the cob—is the corn sweet yet? And finally, I pop a cherry tomato in my mouth to gauge its sugar. If they all pass the test, it’s time to make this First-of-the-Season Succotash Salad, dressed with a simple lemon vinaigrette. After waiting all year, what a joy it is to taste all these sunny flavors on one plate.

Smooth, firm, and creamy, this pie is naturally a lovely shade of pink, so you need not add the food coloring unless you want a deeper color. After 6 hours in the freezer, it’s slice-able but still soft. Left overnight, it’s firm but still creamy—a little piece of strawberry heaven.

For this edible interpretation of Old Glory, rows of raspberries, some glazed with jam and some dusted with powdered sugar, form the American flag’s red and white stripes; blueberries represent the starry field of blue. One tart will have seven rows of berries; the other six. Use smaller berries for the seven-row tart. If you have only one tart pan, you can bake the shells consecutively; let the first shell cool completely in the pan before removing. The interior of each tart shell is brushed with melted chocolate before it is filled; this is an optional step for added flavor. An easy variation (see below) yields three solid-colored tarts in blue, white, and red—also the colors of the French flag—perfect for a Bastille Day celebration.

Take all the layers of classic cheesecake—crumbly graham-cracker crust, rich, creamy filling, and fresh fruit topping—and combine them in a modern tart. Sour cream ups the tanginess factor of the filling; almonds round out the cookie crust; and sugar sweetens the plums, which are cooked into a jam. Save some of the cooking syrup for tossing with the blueberries before scattering them over the top.

When it comes to potato salad, you like what you like. This recipe is mayonnaise-based, but if you like a mustard-based potato salad, just experiment a little. Add some yellow mustard and leave out a little bit of the mayonnaise. Make these recipes your own by finding out what works for you. Our traditional potato salad uses peeled potatoes, but unpeeled work too, and the skins add some color to your dish.

Save this pressed sandwich for the height of summer, when you can get locally grown zucchini, eggplant, and tomatoes. After grilling the zucchini and eggplant, layer them on a roll slathered with romesco, the Spanish tomato and almond sauce. (Refrigerate any unused romesco and use it within a day or two on another sandwich or with grilled fish or shrimp.) The sandwich can be made hours ahead, so it’s a good choice for a backpack lunch or a picnic. Omit the ham to make it vegetarian. Piquillo peppers are small, slightly spicy roasted red peppers sold in jars at shops that specialize in Spanish or Mediterranean foods (see Ingredient Resources, page 193).

JÍCAMA IS A ROOT VEGETABLE that is used throughout Latin America. It looks like a large radish and has a clean, neutral flavor that adds a crisp texture to any dish. This refreshing salad, with its Asian vinaigrette, will be a welcome addition to a summer picnic or barbecue. I leave out the salt and pepper because the soy sauce provides the seasoning.

GOOD TO KNOW When only a grilled steak will do, choose a leaner cut like top blade over more marbled porterhouse or rib-eye. Blade steaks have a rich flavor and are very tender; tri tip, sirloin, and strip steaks also take well to grilling without marinating. If only larger steaks are available, purchase fewer and cut them into six-ounce servings, for portion control.

Potato salad is an American classic, but this is a lot more flavorful than the mayonnaise-based version. It’s great served warm, but the important thing to remember is that it’s far better at room temperature than cold. If you like, add about 1/4 pound diced slab bacon, cooked until crisp, along with 1/2 cup minced shallot or mild onion for a Germanic twist.

PAT One of the things I truly love about Gina is that she is so creative when it comes to beverages. This lemonade is as sparkling, stimulating, and sexy as my darling wife. The seltzer water gives this refresher a great bubbly taste. Gina uses raspberries, but you can substitute any fruit you love and you’ll still be singing, “Oh, happy day!”

Everybody in the South has their own potato-salad recipe, and our version, using red potatoes and the coarse-ground, zippy Creole mustard, makes this a winner. Be sure to drain your potatoes thoroughly, because additional water will dilute the fantastic ingredients in the salad. It’s best to dress the potatoes while they’re still warm, so they can fully absorb the flavors.

I use buttery Yukon Gold potatoes and a sprinkling of fresh dill in my version of my mom’s classic picnic-style potato salad. It’s best before being refrigerated, when it’s still slightly warm and extra creamy, so try to make it just before serving, if time allows.

This Southwest-inspired house barbecue sauce is used on its own or as the base of many sauces at Bar Americain. It is slightly sweet from the molasses, honey, and brown sugar and slightly earthy from the dried red chiles. It is the perfect sauce slathered on smoked ribs (page 149), or spiced up and spooned onto grilled oysters on the half shell (page 72). Adding bourbon transports this sauce from Sante Fe to Kentucky in a matter of minutes.