Latin American

Charring the tomatillos, chiles, and garlic under the broiler before puréeing them concentrates their flavor and sweetness and gives the finished salsa a smoky essence.

Add corn biscuits (you can find them in the supermarket refrigerator case) and a romaine, arugula, and radicchio salad with goat cheese. Coffee ice cream drizzled with Kahlúa is a nice dessert.

Active time: 20 min Start to finish: 25 min

Salsa Mexicana Variations of this fresh tomato-based salsa show up on restaurant tables all over Mexico, where it is called pico de gallo, salsa fresca, or salsa mexicana. The bright flavor of the salsa adds sparkle to anything it touches — quesadillas; grilled chicken, fish or steak; tamales; tacos; and, of course, tortilla chips. This recipe is an accompaniment for Crispy Pork with Avocado Salsa and Tomato Salsa .

Ceviche de Dorado con Chile Jalapeño y Coco The fish is marinated in fresh lime juice (and therefore partly "cooked").

Adobo means spice rub or marinade, and this particular recipe was introduced by African slaves and brought to Bahía in Brazil in the 17th century. I think that it gives tuna a new and exciting dimension. There is spiciness in the dish, as would be expected from an adobo. To provide the American palate a little relief from the heat, the tuna is served on a bed of lightly pickled cucumbers.

This Colombian-style one-dish meal is perfect for a cool winter evening.

Plancha is simply another word for comal, or griddle.

Rajas is the word for a traditional Mexican mixture of sautéed peppers and onions. Green onions work well in this version.

All the flavor of individual tamales, but much easier to make.

(From Chris Schlesinger and John Willoughby, License to Grill, Morrow, 1997) Tommy who? Chris and John explain: "This classic Latin American dish is that rare bird, a completely healthful vegetarian meal that appeals to the taste buds of teenagers. Or at least it appeals to the buds of Tommy, a teenager who lives in the apartment above one of us and is the nephew of the other one. Tommy prefers his rice and beans cooked separately, rather than together, and likes lots of garlic and only a few bell peppers in the mix; so that's how we make it here. For some reason, it has almost as high an appeal rating as pizza and chips, those quintessential meatless teenage favorites."

This dip requires only three basic ingredients. If you're bringing it to a party, you can assemble it ahead of time in a disposable aluminum pan and throw it in the oven when you arrive. I got this recipe from Lisa Lombardo, a friend of mine who brought it all the way from Albany, New York, to my housewarming party in Brooklyn. Even after the long haul it still tasted great!

This starter was inspired by the tamarind-flavored dishes of Alicia De Angeli, a food writer and consultant in Mexico City, and Mark Miller of Coyote Cafe in Santa Fe.

This recipe differs slightly from classic mojo in that it uses red onion instead of garlic. It's best to make this mojo a bit ahead of time so that the color of the red onion "bleeds" into the sour orange. The traditional accompaniment is grilled pork, but it's also wonderful with well-roasted chicken — charring its skin brings out the full flavors of the mojo.

When stewed, the dried corn kernels sold as "posole" or "hominy" expand and become tender. At Cafe San Estevan, in Santa Fe, New Mexico, chef Esteven Garcia makes posole as a mild, brothy side dish, unlike the heartier and spicier stew type.

Today, Mexico's best coffee is ripened and dried along the roadways in the cloud-blanketed highlands of Chiapas and over through Veracruz and Oaxaca. The prime beans are usually roasted a little darker than ours — almost a Viennese roast — and they brew a nice, medium-bodied liquid with some spunk. They tell me it's the second-class beans that get roasted darker, to a mahogany black with a shining sugar coat. The steam-powered espresso machines in the city cafeterías extract a trio of ethnic brews: espresso, straight, foamy and Italian; café con leche, mixed with hot milk, French-style (but so common one would mistake it for purely Mexican); or americano, simply diluted with water. The more rural brew leans toward the Spanish, the history books say, but it seems like a Mexican-flavored campfire version to me. Café de olla at its best is pot-boiled in earthenware with molassesy piloncillo sugar and spices like cinnamon, anise or cloves. These days, many traditional city restaurants offer the dark, delicious drink more regularly, served in old-fashioned earthenware mugs at the end of the meal.