Fish

Merluza en salsa de piñones Many Spanish fish dishes call for sauces made with almonds, hazelnuts, or pine nuts, sometimes in combination with tomatoes and saffron. While hake or monkfish is traditionally used for this Catalan dish, you can substitute cod, sea bass, flounder, or another firm white fish.

Gazpacho (a traditional chilled soup that originated in Spain) becomes a sauce for fish fillets.

The rich chowder serves as a sauce in this dish. At the restaurant, they use house-smoked king clams and panko in the panzanella, which is a modern take on the classic Italian bread salad. If you like, puree equal parts parsley, fennel fronds, and olive oil, then spoon the vibrant green sauce around the fish.

A first course with a serious wow factor. Even though this terrine is labor-intensive, it's not as fussy and last-minute as quenelles, and its ethereal texture rivals theirs. The salmon roe adds sparkle and zing both on the plate and on the palate, but if you want to take the terrine in a slightly different direction, use a small dice of blanched, peeled carrot in its place. You'll get a delicate crunch instead of a briny pop in the mouth.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from I Like Food, Food Tastes Good: In the Kitchen with Your Favorite Bands by Kara Zuaro. Crooked Fingers
from Eric Bachmann When I think back to some of the happiest times of my life, I can hear Eric Bachmann's music playing in the background. His old band, Archers of Loaf, was the car stereo soundtrack to many nights of sipping Slurpees with my best friends in high school. When Archers disbanded, Eric started Crooked Fingers — named for his grandfather's CB handle — and my boyfriend, Pete, played me their first record on our first date. On our first vacation together, we found that our North Carolinian pals were also big Archers of Loaf fans and had actually been to their last show ever. In the dark, junkyard-like backyard of their crappy local bar, they broke out into an a cappella version of "Web in Front," which remains the most joyful, punk rock thing I've ever heard. In that moment, I felt so lucky that my life was happening to me. But, because I'm a bit of a pessimist, I really hoped I'd never meet Eric Bachmann. I feared that no mortal man could measure up to his music and all the memories I had tied up in it. So, when we saw him standing around at SXSW (Austin's springtime indie rock fest), Pete literally had to push me to talk to him about the cookbook. Turns out, Eric has worked in restaurants all his life. He loves to cook, and he mentioned this seared tuna dish, which, by the way, is ridiculously easy to make and very impressive. When he emailed me the recipe, it came with a note that said, "Thanks for allowing me to be a part of your project . . . it's a real honor." The pleasure is all mine.

We've given eminently tasty salmon the crab-cake treatment. Topping the lovely, golden (and satisfyingly chunky) cakes is a tart, tangy yogurt sauce rather than the usual tartar.

The French custom of serving radishes with sweet butter and sea salt is a lesson in simplicity; there's something so satisfying about a lick of creamy butter against the snap of peppery radish. Here, anchovy paste adds a singular savor to the butter, but the ease of the tradition remains. It's worth seeking out small radishes like the French Breakfast variety; if you can find only big ones, just halve them.

In this main-course riff on salade niçoise, the olives make a splash in the dressing while peppery arugula stands in for lettuce, grilled salmon for oil-packed tuna. Yet the beautiful contrasts of the original are still front and center: potatoes, green beans, tomatoes, and hard-boiled eggs.

Why reserve cedar planks for the grill? They work just as well in the oven.

In this handheld treat, carrots, cucumbers, and smoked trout are tossed in a hot, sweet, and tangy sauce. For a simple side, steam some plain or sticky rice in the microwave, then chill it and mix in some chopped green onions, chopped fresh mint, lime juice, chili-garlic sauce, and a touch of soy sauce or fish sauce. For dessert, serve mango sorbet or fresh pineapple and mango slices.

The herbes de Provence blend is even better when it's made from fresh herbs. Here, it creates an elegant pairing for a colorful mix of summer vegetables and halibut.

Marinating the fish in lemon and lime juices "cooks" it while it sits in the fridge. Don't leave the fish in the marinade longer than six hours or it may become tough. Serve the tacos with corn and black bean salsa and offer chocolate mousse spiked with a little chile powder for dessert.

A chunky pistou with full pistachio flavor adds depth to this fresh salmon dish. Want even more vegetables? Slice lemon cucumbers (a wonderful farmers' market variety that looks somewhat like a yellow tomato) and add a squeeze of lemon juice and a pinch of dill to make the perfect starter.

Salads made with hearty romaine stand up well to strong flavors like garlic, lemon, and pungent Parmigiano-Reggiano. The chopped anchovies lend depth and savor, not fishiness, to the dressing.

Sandwiching meaty black sea bass fillets together with an aromatic filling of red onion and fresh oregano perfumes the fish as it roasts. It tastes—and looks—wonderful topped with a colorful salad of small tomatoes, olives, and more oregano. The peppery, lemony herb, native to the Mediterranean, is a natural with fish.

Salmon's rich, moist meatiness makes it ideal for forming into cakes. Grated zucchini does double duty, bulking up the panfried patties and joining crisp fennel in a sprightly slaw.

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.