Grilling

Halloumi, a firm, mild cheese from Cyprus, is sold at some supermarkets and at specialty foods stores, natural foods stores, and Greek markets.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from The Barbecue! Bible 10th Anniversary Edition, by Steven Raichlen. To read more about Raichlen and barbecue, go to our feature The Best Barbecue in the U.S.A. Barbecue means different things to different people in different parts of the country. In North Carolina it means pork, or more precisely smoked pork shoulder, that has been grilled using the indirect method until it's fall-off-the-bone tender, then pulled into meaty shreds with fingers or a fork. Doused with vinegar sauce and eaten with coleslaw on a hamburger bun, it's one of the most delicious things on the planet, and it requires only one special ingredient: patience. My friend and barbecue buddy Elizabeth Karmel makes some of the best pork shoulder I've ever tasted. Elizabeth comes from Greensboro, North Carolina, where she grew up on pulled pork. Her secret is to cook the pork to an internal temperature of 195°F—higher than is recommended by most books. But this is the temperature needed for the pork to separate easily into the fine, moist, tender shreds characteristic of true Carolina barbecue. Elizabeth doesn't use a rub, although many of her compatriots do. (I personally like a rub, but I've made it optional in the recipe.) A true pork shoulder includes both the Boston butt (the upper part of the leg with the shoulder blade) and the picnic ham (the actual foreleg), a cut of meat that weighs fourteen to eighteen pounds in its entirety and is used chiefly at professional barbecue competitions. The recipe here calls for Boston butt alone (five to six pounds), which, thanks to its generous marbling, gives you superb barbecue. The appropriate beverage for all this? Cold beer or Cheerwine (a sweet red soda pop).

Editor's note: The recipe below is from How to Grill, by Steven Raichlen. To read more about Raichlen and barbecue, go to our feature The Best Barbecue in the U.S.A.

The tangy Teleme cheese is great with the sweet figs and the honey. Making the bruschetta on the grill will free up the oven.

This smoky grilled meat will be a delicious addition to your barbecue repertoire. For a casual party, serve the lamb with grilled pita bread, grilled eggplant, and tzatziki so that guests can make their own Greek-inspired sandwiches. Timing note: The lamb needs to marinate overnight.

With a smoky paprika glaze, these Spanish-inspired skewers are irresistible.

This recipe purposely gives you more chicken than you'll need for one sitting. Reserve the leftover, plus a cup of the Mango-Sesame Dressing, to make quick work of Noodle Salad With Chicken and Snap Peas a few days later.

A combination of green olives, garlic, rosemary, and orange peel is tucked beneath the skin of the chicken breasts before they go on the grill. Be sure to remind guests to squeeze a grilled orange wedge over the chicken just before eating.

His name is Kumahachi Moreno and he's one of the most famous television chefs in Japan. He showed up at my door one July 4th weekend bearing a bag of Japanese "mystery" ingredients for me to grill. My efforts would be videotaped and the results shown on Japanese television. Seemed like a good idea, but when Moreno opened his bag, out came gobo (burdock root), natto (fermented soybeans), uncooked cod roe, and flat painted cans of azuki (sweet red bean) paste. Decidedly not what most Americans are accustomed to grilling. I sliced the cod roe over freshly-shucked oysters, which I roasted on a wood-burning grill. The burdock went on bamboo skewers with scallions to be grilled yakitori style on a hibachi. The natto went on tortillas with jalapeños and grated cheddar to make grilled quesadillas. I spooned the azuki paste into hollowed out apples—Fujis, no less—and topped them with cream cheese, brown sugar, and butter to be smoke-roasted over applewood in a kettle grill. I held my breath and hoped for the best. Mr. Moreno and his Japanese film crew had never seen the likes of the meal that followed. The oysters came out great, served with wasabi-flavored whipped cream. The film crew ate the natto-stuffed quesadillas with gusto. A mouthful of the fibrous burdock root taught me why burdock is never grilled in Japan. The red bean paste–stuffed apples—the outside tender and smoky, the filling both piquant and sweet—promopted high-fives all around—definitely a first on both sides of the Pacific.

Guam has a hyperactive barbecue scene, with an annual festival that gives away tens of thousands of dollars in prize money. No family or social event is complete without the firing up of a grill (often half of a 55-gallon drum). Given Guam's proximity to the Philippines and Japan, it comes as no surprise that soy sauce, ginger, and wasabi should figure prominently in the local grilling. Here's the Pacific Island version of a grilled blackened tuna from my Guamanian barbecue buddy, Steven Cruz. The tuna is crusted with Old Bay seasoning. (OK, it's a long way from Baltimore to Guam, but apparently this Maryland seafood seasoning enjoys great popularity on the island.) Ginger, wasabi, and chiles give the dipping sauce a triple blast of heat.

The temple complex at Angkor Wat is one of the archeological wonders of the world. It's not, however, the most interesting site in Siem Reap, Cambodia. That honor goes to the less-visited Bayon temple, built at the end of the twelfth century A.D. by the Buddhist king, Jayavarman VII. On its stone walls an amazing series of bas-reliefs tell the story of the victory of the Khmers over the Thais. The obligatory heroic and horrific battle scenes are portrayed, but what caught my eye are the pictures of the army supply trains, encampments, field kitchens, and yes, some of the earliest depictions of Asian barbecue. Specifically, you'll see chicken and other meats skewered on split sticks and grilled over pyramid-shaped fires. Fast forward nine hundred years to the parking lot of Angkor Wat where you'll find chicken grilled on split wooden sticks over an open fire, exactly as it was done during the height of the Khmer empire. This recipe may look complicated, but it's really just a series of simple steps.

Craig promises that if you follow this recipe, you can make dizzyingly delicious Chinatown char siu ribs at home in the oven or on the grill. That makes them a great choice for the winter, when you've got a hankering for ribs and the smoker is snowed in. Many Chinese restaurants use spareribs that are chopped into 3- to 4-inch riblets. If you want, your butcher can make you riblets with a band saw. Craig likes baby backs for this recipe because they are a bit meatier. You can also substitute 4 pounds of pork loin for the ribs if you wish. The booze is important for the marinade because it helps penetrate the meat, and even if you're a teetotaler, don't worry—there isn't any measurable alcohol in the ribs. If you must skip it, use apple juice or water. You can buy char siu sauce at Chinese specialty stores, and it makes a fine glaze, but it doesn't make ribs that taste like Chinese restaurant ribs. That's because you need to marinate the meat in a thin sauce first.

Not to be confused with the annual Gaelic Gourmet events in Boston since the year 2000, Marty Lynch and Kevin O'Grady's Gaelic Gourmet BBQ Team has been burning sticks and wowing barbeque judges since the early 1980s. When Marty gave Ardie [Davis] a taste of CAM Onions at the 2008 Great American Barbecue, Ardie said, "You've gotta give me your recipe for the next KCBS cookbook!" Marty gladly obliged. He adapted this from Rick Browne's Oz Onion Pudding in Rick's Grilling America book (2003). Rick gave us permission to share this version, tweaked by Carolyn Wells, Amy Winn, and Marty Lynch—hence the CAM acronym.

I've been a big fan of the plump and succulent wonders of oysters for a long time—since even before I started frequenting one of my favorite raw bars: the one in the Blue Ribbon, in Tribeca. Something about the charm of this particular example of our sea's bounty has always intrigued me. These days I prefer local (like Cape Cod) over other types of oysters, but, still, I'm open! The accompanying salsita—which is tasty all by itself or even spread on a small salad of your favorite greens—offers a wonderful flavor and texture balance. I suggest making the accompanying sauce ahead of time so you can visit with your guests. Then just grill the oysters, plate them, and serve.

It's not only nostalgia that makes me love arepas; it's also their versatility! These corncakes are hugely popular in many forms in my native Colombia and neighboring Venezuela (among other places) and have now actually caught on in many parts of the United States. What makes them especially wonderful is that they offer cooks fabulous flexibility as far as preparation. So here I'm giving you my basic recipe—and a serving suggestion—but please know you can add whatever you'd like (grilled corn, diced peppers, different cheeses, just to name a few possibilities). Here I'm suggesting that you smear a bit of farmer's cheese—or Mexican queso blanco—on top. Great as an appetizer, these arepas are perfect with any cocktail!

This beautiful side dish is perfect not only because it looks gorgeous but also because it's totally consumable! This creation was inspired by a dish I had in Puerto Rico, where I enjoyed a typical mofongo (mashed plantain dish) served in a pilón—which is a kind of mortar. I thought then, "Wouldn't this be great in a tomato?" Since then, I've been dreaming up all kinds of tomato stuffers! My first choice—as far as mushroom fillers—is domestic oyster, shiitake, or portobellos, which you can easily grill (or sauté!) ahead of time. Also, Manchego is another delicious option for the cheese.

I know what you're thinking. Bananas? Trust me. It's a little trick I picked up from my nights in the kitchen at the famous Le Cirque, in Manhattan. I don't always reveal my secret ingredient, and most people can't put their fingers on what exactly makes this sweet potato recipe so good. But every one loves them. Of course, some heavy cream, butter, and brown sugar doesn't hurt.