Summer Sides

From the Food Vault: It’s outdoor dining weather, and Metroland magazine used to devote an annual issue to the topic, wheedling ad dollars from businesses with any possible association to that topic. Here’s my contribution to a 2000 issue.

                                                                                            

OUTDOOR DINING AT MY HOUSE invariably revolves around the grill, but we don't limit our party meals to the traditional menus of chicken and ribs, burgers and dogs. Sometimes the sides can steal the show.

Photo by B. A. Nilsson

Good side dishes require preparation. Anyone can slop mayo onto a mound of macaroni and call it salad, but why not enjoy a dish that lights up the palate? Here's the first tip: Make your own mayonnaise. There's no comparison between homemade and store-bought.

At heart, it's an oil and water emulsion, the water derived from an egg yolk, and lemon juice or vinegar. The egg yolk is also the emulsifier, binding the oil and water. And what your mayonnaise will include, unlike commercial types, is good olive oil (or, at the least, canola oil – try to stick with a monounsaturated oil, which is better for your health).

Food processor mayo is a dream to make. You drop in ingredients, whirr, and it's done. I get my eggs from a private source, and don't worry about salmonella; if you're concerned, do the first part of this over a stove to get the yolk mixture to a salmonella-killing 160 degrees for one minute.

Start with one egg (whole or yolk), and add two tablespoons of lemon juice (or one tablespoon each of vinegar and water), a half-teaspoon of dry mustard and a pinch or two of other seasonings (cayenne is a good one) to taste. Black pepper is also a good addition. If you're heating the mixture, add a half-teaspoon of sugar to help it resist curdling, and make sure you've cooled it to room temperature before adding the oil.

Combine it all in your food processor with the plastic mixing blade, and as it processes add a cup of excellent olive oil in a slow, steady stream. If it's not thick enough, add more oil; too thick, add a little water.

Be creative with additions: Garlic turns it into aioli; ground cornichons, shallots and horseradish gives you tartar sauce. Experiment with such things as curry, chili powder or lime juice.

Bring the same sense of adventure to your marinade, a vital component of grilled vegetables. Oil and lemon juice or vinegar, in a two-to-one ratio, is the basis, but from there you can go wild with garlic, shallots, pepper, herbs – you name it.

And most vegetables beg for similar treatment. Parboil the critter, taking care to get it out of the water while it's still crunchy. Dredge it in marinade, then grill over a hot fire, turning once. With so much fresh asparagus around, you'll pleased with a different preparation. Try grilling cauliflower, beets, squash, leeks, potatoes – and my favorite, fennel. A potato salad based on grilled spuds has a unique, rich flavor. A recipe I picked up from Weber's Art of the Grill (Chronicle Books) instructs you to toss halved new potatoes in olive oil and garlic, then grill them on rosemary branches that have been stripped of most of their leaves. Grill over medium heat, then serve with a drizzle of reduced balsamic vinegar.

Once the fire is going well, grill some parboiled peppers – red and green – along with onion slices and mushrooms. These then can be chopped and used in any cold salad, especially something with grains, like barley or tabbouleh.

Speaking of mushrooms: as the movie camera loved Bogart, so does the grill adore the mighty portobello. You haven't had a summer burger until you've topped it with a slice of portobello and a slice of grilled Vidalia onion, with a little gorgonzola in there, too. But the portobello offers so much more. Grill the caps, then stuff them with just about anything – traditional crabmeat works excellently. Dredge slices in a pepper-paprika-herbs of your choice mixture and hit the hot grill for a blackened effect. Skewer portobello chunks with cherry tomatoes, green pepper slices, onion quarters and sea scallops for kebabs.

Corn is a barbecue classic, and it never tastes better than when it's roasted in its own husk. Soak the intact ears for half an hour, then peel back enough of the husk to allow you to sneak some flavorful marinade in there. Close and grill over medium heat, letting the husks char. The sugar in the corn caramelizes and makes it especially delicious.

Grilled eggplant is similarly versatile, and you don't have to parboil the slices. Slice it, rub the slices with salt, let the slices sit for 30 minutes, then rinse and pat dry. Brush with oil-rich marinade, grill over high heat, and mash the result into a great batch of baba ganouj with garlic, lemon juice, tahini, cumin and a little yogurt. Again from Weber's Art of the Grill comes eggplant stacks with roasted corn vinaigrette, in which you top a slice of grilled eggplant with a tablespoon of ground Asiago cheese and a slice of tomato marinated in a vinaigrette made with grilled corn, grilled bell pepper slices, shallots, basil, balsamic vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil. Assemble three layers this way, top it with some more vinaigrette, and finish over medium heat until the cheese melts.

Although a traditional fruit salad requires no heat, some fruit responds nicely to the grill. Tomatoes, of course, are a classic, whether grilled or smoked, and you can even roast whole stuffed tomatoes on the grilltop. I've grilled orange and grapefruit slices over indirect heat, then chilled them for use in a green salad. Even more exotic is a grilled mango-and-black bean salad, which should include diced onion (or shallot), mint, cilantro and a touch of cumin as well.

Remember, too, that part of the vegetation can be right in your grill. Experiment with the different wood that's available; each type imparts a slightly different flavor. My favorites: apple and cherry, which have a fruity tang; grapevine, which grows wild in my yard and is more tart than apple; reliable hickory, which is sweet but assertive; and mesquite, of course, which burns hot but imparts a pungent, earthy flavor.

– Metroland Magazine, 6 August 2000