Dairy Free

The meat from the shank is the tastiest part of the lamb. As lamb is a grazing animal and stands probably 90 percent of the time, the leg muscles get more developed and flavorful. Braised meats take a little more time to cook, but not much time to prepare. They’re really very simple and almost foolproof, and the end result is really luscious, flavorful meat. It takes a little longer, but you get the best results if you cook them at as low an oven temperature as possible—around 200°F. Serve these tacos with this richly flavored filling during the colder months, when appetites yearn for something earthy and substantial. Shredding the meat along the grain produces pieces that better retain both moisture and flavor. The meat is best eaten the day it is cooked. Place the meat back in the sauce to reheat.

The “aha!” moment when I thought to combine porcini and grilled beef with chiles came to me in Argentina, home of the world’s best grilled beef. Specifically, I was in Mendoza, the capital of Argentina’s wine country and settled by Italian immigrants in the nineteenth century—probably why beef with porcinis is such a common pairing there. This dish is delicious prepared outdoors over a wood-fired grill, but you can also cook it stovetop on a cast-iron griddle or ridged grill pan. Look for porcini powder at specialty food stores or buy dried porcinis and grind them yourself in a spice grinder.

I lived in Morocco for a time in the mid-1970s studying textiles as part of my anthropology training. While there, I learned to cook with the full array of the expressive, aromatic spices of the Moroccan kitchen. Cumin is one of the most important and widely used of these spices, and I find that its pungent, woodsy aroma gives most meat dishes a “meatier” or “gamier” flavor that I like. Cumin is also widely used in Tex-Mex cooking for the same effect. This brine will work for up to double the amount of meat called for here. When making a brine, use a five-to-one ratio of sugar to salt, which works well for twenty-four-hour brines such as this one. For a North African accent, garnish the tacos with grated carrots, chopped fresh mint leaves, and quartered cherry tomatoes. Look for cinnamon oil in the baking and candy-making sections of well-stocked specialty food stores or online.

These smoky, wonderfully juicy tacos mix two great culinary traditions—Mexican and Texas barbecue, both notable for their intense, but subtle seasoning. In the United States, the cooking of the Old West was heavily influenced by the charros (Mexican cowboys) who cooked over open fires that infused meat with a smoky essence that so many of us find addictive. In Texas, the wood both of choice and necessity is mesquite, usually mixed with oak to soften the hard green tones of the mesquite. This recipe is easy to do, but requires some advance planning, as the brisket must sit in its rub overnight, and a little patience during the slow cooking. But the results are some of the best tasting barbecue that you have ever eaten. Buy fresh, not prepackaged, brisket that isn’t overly fatty—the fat should cover no more than one-third of its surface. Or, you can buy the leaner, thinner end, if you prefer. A piquant cabbage slaw makes a good accompaniment.

Tongue—la lengua, in Spanish—is a very popular food in Mexico, especially in the central and northern parts of the country, where good grazing land supported a large ranching culture. On ranches, most prime cuts are sold to markets, and the lesser cuts, like tongue, are cooked for the ranch hands. The use of tongue and other secondary cuts of meat, often overlooked, is at the core of peasant cooking. Made rich with brines, marinades, chiles, complex spice mixtures, and rich accompanying sauces, these preparations are some of the most flavorful in all of Latin American cuisine. Tongue is naturally succulent, but needs slow cooking to become really tender and luscious. The flavor is pretty neutral, so this filling has lots of additions to spice it up. A bright salsa is the finishing touch, much like the hot spicy-sweet mustard that was slathered on the tongue sandwiches that I used to eat at my old neighborhood delicatessens.

Be sure to purchase the meatiest short ribs available, without too much fat. They should be thick-cut, 1- or 2-bone size, about 4 inches long, and almost 2 1/2 inches thick. As an interesting alternative to beef, you could try buffalo short ribs. Either way, be sure the meat is fresh and bright red. For the richest, most succulent short ribs, seek out a premium butcher shop where they sell prime beef short ribs, which will have an amazing marbling of fat. Cook over the lowest temperature possible, always below a simmer (you’ll see evaporation, but no movement of liquid) until the meat is ultra-tender and falling off the bone. The flavors here are sweet-and-sour Latino, matched well by your favorite dark beer. Caramelized onions make a hearty winter garnish, and very thinly sliced red onions are a fine partner in the summer.

The first time I had these tacos was as a teenager on a working ranch owned by family friends outside of Guadalajara. A cadre of cooks from the same family—grandmother, mother, daughter—ran the kitchen. I was fascinated by how they used a comal set over a wood fire to dry-roast the tomatoes. I had never seen tomatoes cooked that way, nor had I ever stood before a live fire in a kitchen, with its bright, dancing flames and the crackling of the wood. The smoky, earthy atmosphere of that kitchen permeated the sauce made with supersweet tomatoes, vibrant onions and garlic, fiery chiles, and aromatic cilantro—so different from any other tomato sauce I’d ever eaten, such a different world of flavors and techniques. That day was one of the transformational moments in my cooking life.

In the meat section of Mexican markets are large trays of pork or beef sitting in a thick red chile sauce that acts as both tenderizer and flavoring. This is carne adovada. At home, the mixture is slow-cooked into a stew along with additions like posole and vegetables. The chile sauce is a link back to the days before refrigeration, when chiles were used at the market as a preservative. Bueno Foods makes a delicious sauce using New Mexican red chiles that is perfect for this recipe (see Sources, page 167).

A wildly popular Latin snack food throughout the Americas, chicharrones are made from pork belly that has been cooked for a long time with the skin on, and contains a little meat (what we think of as pork rinds in the United States). Though usually eaten as a crispy snack, they also make a tasty taco filling when heated in a sauce until softened and chewy. The most unusual chicharrones are those made from the whole pork skin fried in one piece—they’re about four feet long by two feet wide and resemble some dried prehistoric animal. You’ll see them for sale on weekends along the highways in areas of Mexico where there are a lot of pigs, sometimes next to a huge pot of pork fat boiling over an open fire. They’re almost always made to order; you stop and buy a piece or buy the whole thing. I’m guessing you only see them by the highways because they are so enormous you need a car or pickup truck to get one home.

The Sonoran landscape is riddled with mesquite trees, wild chile bushes, and barbecue pits. Not surprisingly, the Sonoran people are known for their fiery barbecued meats. Children and grownups alike gather wild chiltepin chiles from the bosque—the forested banks of rivers and streams—and sell them in the markets or next to the serious speed bumps in the road where you must slow down or lose your transmission. This recipe is typical of ranch-style cooking in northern Mexico except that a modern indoor oven replaces the traditional wood-fired barbecue pit. This recipe makes enough for a crowd. To halve, use two and a half pounds bone-out pork butt or four pounds country-style pork ribs, and halve the remaining ingredients, adjusting the cooking time accordingly. Note that the pork must marinate overnight.

This is a very simple country-style recipe, kind of like the old family standby of fried pork chops, and is quite tasty if prepared correctly. It is important not to overcook the pork or it will be dry and chewy. In Mexico, pork shoulder chops or other secondary cuts are traditional, but I’ve used pork loin here to make preparation as easy as possible. Leave any fat on the loin to help keep it moist. If your loin is very lean (and modern pork tends to be very lean), letting it sit in a brine made of 8 cups water, 2 tablespoons kosher salt, 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, and 1 head garlic, halved, for 2 hours will make the pork juicier and give it a nice aroma.

Bacon has become a culinary star again, and there are now so many flavors of bacon and ways to enjoy it—traditional smoked bacon, jalapeño bacon, turkey bacon, bacon candy, bacon salt, bacon cocktails, and—the most unusual—bacon ice cream! There are even bacon clubs that deliver different kinds to your door every month. It’s the bacon that gives these tacos their flavor. My preference is a natural, nitrate-free, applewood or hickory-smoked bacon that I buy as a slab, rather than presliced, so I can cut strips as I prefer them, about three-eighths inch thick. Most grocery stores and butcher shops sell thick-cut bacon. Also available is center-cut bacon, which is leaner with a higher yield of meat, much like very lean Canadian bacon (which is actually cured pork loin), in extra-thick slices. Wild boar bacon (see Sources, page 167) is particularly tasty for this recipe.

Mondongo is usually a thick, spicy stew made with beef tripe and lots of locally grown vegetables, probably Spanish in origin. You can find many versions of it throughout Latin America and the Caribbean. The one I am most familiar with was prepared by our wonderful Mexican chef Daniel Alvarez, who cooked at the Coyote Cantina for over twenty years. His version used pork butt instead of tripe, lots of green chiles, sometimes posole or corn, and other green vegetables. He made this dish often for the staff meal and sometimes as a special at the Cantina. It always sold out quickly.

In Spanish, carnitas means “little meats,” and this is probably the most popular taco in Mexican cuisine. The pork pieces are succulent, juicy, and rich with a browned crust from frying—perfect for tacos. The best places in Mexico for this taco are at carnitas restaurants. Every town has one or more, some open only on weekends. You’ll see huge cauldrons—thirty gallons or more—of boiling pork fat holding whole pork loins, shoulders, and other big cuts like ribs. The chef closely monitors the frying temperature, pulling out the meat at just the right moment—when cooked, but still juicy. Customers say which cut they want and how much, always getting a mixture of lean and fatty meats, which make better tacos. The meat is weighed and chopped. Once you’ve paid, you take your carnitas to a table set up with fresh tortillas and bowls of salsa. Order a couple of cold beers and you are in taco heaven. This recipe is much simpler and easier, and the carnitas are great.

Unlike Baja fish tacos, which are deep-fried in batter, those made Maui-style are grilled. In all my travels, whenever I’m near the ocean—whether it’s in Hawaii, Mexico, Alaska, Thailand, or Australia—there has always been a small stand somewhere that serves the local catch in an affordable, portable (usually grilled) form. One of my funniest fish taco experiences occurred in a small town in Alaska where we had stopped for supplies during a sailing trip through Prince William Sound. There in front of us was an old school bus painted in bright, tropical colors now converted to a walk-up kitchen selling, of all things—Maui tacos! We were a long way from Hawaii, but the methods were the same—the local catch (salmon and crab, in this case), simply grilled and served with salsa on fresh tortillas. To reduce the heat of this dish, you can substitute Tabasco for the habanero hot sauce. If necessary, to prevent the pieces of snapper from falling through the grill grate into the fire, use a seafood grilling screen. The pineapple can be grilled ahead, if you prefer, and held at room temperature. Both the pineapple and snapper can also be grilled indoors on a nonstick ridged grill pan. For the pineapple use medium heat, 5 minutes per side; for the fish, very high heat, 3 to 4 minutes per side.

An achiote rub is the classic Yucatan way of marinating fish. I tasted this rub for the first time in Isla Mujeres in the early 1970s, when you could still live on the beach in a palapa and hammock, eat great seafood, and drink cold beers for a few dollars per day. The fishermen would rub fish with an achiote-citrus paste and grill them on the beach over fires made from coconut husks. When I worked at Chez Panisse in the late 1970s, I duplicated this rub from my taste memory for some of their famous garlic festivals. The light citrus flavors of the achiote paste are a beautiful contrast to the oily texture of the swordfish. If you don’t have swordfish, use another meaty ocean fish such as wahoo or mahi mahi.

The tuna for this recipe must be sashimi grade as only the edges will be thoroughly cooked. Sashimi-grade tuna is difficult to find unless you patronize a premium fishmonger or even better, a Japanese fish market, which typically carries it. (If you don’t have either in your area, ask at your local sushi bar if they would sell you sashimi tuna. I’ve bought fish that way.) To be sashimi grade, the tuna not only must be amazingly fresh, but it must be cut from the bottom of the loin, where there is no connective tissue. It should be free of any visible lines (no semicircles within the flesh) or blood, with even color. Its limited supply has made it very costly. The tuna for this filling is quickly seared, a technique known as tataki in Japanese cooking. With each mouthful, you enjoy the delicious contrast between the spicy-smoky seared crust of seasonings and the cool raw center of the tuna. Cucumbers add a nice crunch, as does a garnish of colorful sliced radishes.

This is a very basic and traditional ceviche from coastal Peru. There is an ongoing argument in South America about who first invented ceviche, with both the Peruvians and Ecuadorans vying for credit. The Pacific Ocean fisheries that run along the western coasts of these two countries are the most productive in the world. They are the meeting place of some of the greatest deep-sea currents that bring the Arctic waters, full of life, to the surface for feeding the large schools of migratory fish. This recipe is a great way to enjoy the bounty of the sea while still preserving the integrity of the flavors. Try serving these tacos in smaller crispy shells. Guacamole, avocado slices, or diced boiled potatoes are traditional garnishes used to subdue the spicy effect of the chiles.

The best, most interesting ceviches in the world come from Peru, specifically Lima. Peru is blessed with three completely different geographies—coastal, Amazonian, and highland, with a different ecosystem—and cuisine—for each. Peruvian chefs create ceviches using exotic fish from the coast, potatoes and corn from the highlands, and wonderful tropical flavors and ingredients like hearts of palm from the Amazon region. Typical of a ceviche, the snapper in this taco filling is cooked not with heat, but by chemical action of the acid in the citrus juices. True red snapper, one of the great fishes of the world, is very expensive and rare, distinguished by its large head and red flesh. Most fish that is sold as snapper is actually rock cod or some other rockfish and does not have the subtlety of the genuine article. If you can’t get true snapper (you can tell only by seeing the whole fish, with its bright red and pale yellow markings), striped sea bass or halibut will work well. Candied ginger makes a nice garnish.

One of the best lunches I’ve ever had was at the centuries-old Waterside Inn, a Michelin three-star restaurant situated on the banks of the River Thames in Bray, England, and owned by the renowned Roux brothers. Dressed in formal attire, as I was attending the Royal Ascot horse races nearby, I sat down to an unforgettable salad of briny Brittany lobster, rich avocado, tender mâche, sweet mango, and earthy fresh black truffles, all washed down with vintage Krug rosé champagne. I’ve recreated that memorable combination on many festive occasions and took it as inspiration for these most elegant tacos.