Marcus Samuelsson

I love to cook with ingredients that might otherwise be discarded, like fish collars. If you’re tempted to treat them as scraps, please don’t throw them away or use them merely for a stock. They’re delicious as the main focus of a dish—think of them as the spareribs of the sea. Here, croaker collars are marinated in citrus, chipotle, ginger, and fish sauce, and served with a mango salad full of funk, spice, and crunch.

A warm ruby red mulled wine packed with enough cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger to make the whole house smell like the holidays.

Roasted carrots bathed in a buttery, lemony vinaigrette with awaze, a spicy Ethiopian condiment.

You can roast the beets and make the dukkah, a coarse Egyptian and Middle Eastern nut and spice blend, for this dish days in advance.

A silky-smooth soup from Marcus Samuelsson’s cookbook, The Rise.

This mix of hardy greens, pickled fennel, and spicy coconut vinaigrette brings a lightness to decadent meals.

Pretend you’re on the coast—and not your house in the dead of winter—with this bright and spicy aguachile.

This ode to Gullah Geechee cuisine marries crabmeat with corn kernels for a crispy party starter.

Blanching the citrus peel in several changes of boiling water removes bitterness while still leaving plenty of bright flavor behind.

A salty-umami chocolate chip cookie from chefs Marcus Samuelsson and Tiana Gee to add to the Great Chocolate Chip Cookie canon.

This dish coaxes its flavor out of the piri-piri sauce, which is popular in South Africa and Portuguese-speaking Africa.

Wrapping a whole snapper in banana leaves keeps the fish super moist—and turns the dish into a total showstopper.

My friend Marvin Woods taught me everything I know about Low-Country cooking, the regional cuisine commonly referred to as soul food. In many ways, soul food is an apt description because there is a lot of soul and spirit and passion that goes into Low-Country cooking—dishes like she-crab soup, catfish stew, shrimp and grits, red rice, hoppin' John, and baked macaroni and cheese. No Low-Country feast would be complete without corn bread.

My version is steamed in a water bath to make the bread nice and moist; covering it with aluminum foil for the last thirty minutes of cooking gives you a nice crust that isn't overly browned. Paired with tomato chutney, it's a light snack or meal on its own.

I met twelve-year-old Frank Liranzo when I was teaching a kids' cooking class at the YMCA's environmental camp in Huguenot, New York. The kids learned how to tap trees to make maple syrup, a process I'd read about but never seen in action. Frank was one of the campers, and he got to experience firsthand the old art of making maple syrup. "You put tubes into the trees so the sap flows out," he says. "When it first comes out of the tree, it tastes like sugary water. Then we went to the sugar shack where we saw the sap boiled down until it tasted like syrup." At the camp, I made this Maple-Glazed Tuna with Pear-Potato Salad for the kids. "I thought it would taste really sugary, but it didn't," Frank told me. "First I tasted the fish, then a hint of mustard, and then an aftertaste of the maple syrup." I love how the syrup adds sweetness and a beautiful caramelized crust to the meaty tuna steaks, while the sweetness of the pears in the accompanying potato salad balances nicely with the glazed tuna.

Editor's note: Serve this salad with Marcus Samuelsson's Maple-Glazed Tuna .

In the land of milk and honey, injera may be the staple, but it is not the only kind of bread. In the morning, it's dabo—honey bread—that graces the Ethiopian breakfast table. Unlike the pancakelike injera, dabo is a European-style loaf that is typically slathered with shiro, a chickpea spread. It highlights one of the distinctive characteristics of Ethiopian cooking: sweeteners are very rarely used, but an element of sweetness is introduced through other means, such as sugary coffees and teas; tej, a syrupy honey wine; or this dense breakfast bread, which lends a gentle sweetness to the start of the day.

A restaurant kitchen can be a virtual United Nations, with a staff made up of people from around the world. A dishwasher at Aquavit who comes from Mali told me about the typical midday meal he had growing up: peanut stew made with onion, tomatoes, and spinach served over rice. His description was the starting point for this peanutty stew, an elegant interpretation of a dish eaten throughout West Africa every day.