Weeknight Kitchen

A long with muscadine grapes, butter beans are among the farmer's market treasures of late summer in Charleston—reason to wake up with gusto to another day of stultifying heat and oxford-soaking humidity. We do all kinds of things with butter beans: we make a hummus-like spread for the cocktail hour, we simmer them with seasoning meats of all sorts, and we compose marinated salads aplenty. But this may be our most simple treatment yet, and one of the most satisfying.

Simple but delicious! Wrapped in a sheet of newspaper, this is a popular breakfast for people on the run. Often, the Vietnamese will simply pull up with their motorcycle at their favourite banh mi cart to pick one up on the way to work.

Steam the cauliflower florets and core over boiling water for about 3 minutes. Taste a piece. It should be on the verge of tenderness and not quite fully cooked. Set it aside.

Pescado Rodrigo is one of the most beloved dishes in Mexico City. I make it at least a couple of times a month. Fresh fish, seared until crispy then drizzled with a chunky citrus sauce, is the seafood to stuff into a corn tortilla for tacos. The recipe comes from the Bellinghausen, a classic old-school Mexico City restaurant, established in 1915 and cherished by many families, including ours. Its old hacienda style, complete with tiles and a working fountain, is so dignified and grandiose that my sisters and I used to dress to the nines to eat there on Sundays. The menu never changes, ever. And it doesn't need to.

I always have a jar of capers in my fridge - they're a great shortcut to a good punchy flavor. Here, they cut through the rich oily fish. This dish can be made in only a few minutes. I like to serve it with just some simply boiled new potatoes. Instead of salmon, it would be as good with fresh mackerel, an equally oily fish.

I know this sounds like a Dr. Seuss recipe (only without the elastic scansion) but it is, as the Italians say, "sul serio," no joke. The green factor is not crucial, but since this came about because I happened upon some spinach-dyed stubby coils of trottole—the pasta shape named after its supposed resemblance (I don't see it) to a spinning top—it feels right to me. Serendipity is only part of the story: I have also always had a thing about pasta and blue cheese, both separately and in conjunction. This recipe is in many ways an evolution of the Pasta with Gorgonzola, Arugula & Pine Nuts in my Quick Collection app, and indeed you could make any sort of mishmash of the two. The major developments here are that I felt the need—or rather a fancy—to sprinkle the deep green of the pasta with the paler pistachios, and I add no cream or mascarpone (as I used to) since a little pasta-cooking water, whisked into the cheese, makes it as creamy as you could wish for. This is not a dietary stance, but because the starchy water doesn't mute the palate-rasping piquancy of the Gorgonzola.

Croque Monsieur is essentially a toasted cheese and ham sandwich. Put a fried egg on top and you've got a Croque Madame (the egg is supposed to resemble a lady's hat). What makes the difference between a toasted cheese and ham sandwich and a Croque Monsieur is the cheese – in a Croque Monsieur it comes in the form of a creamy cheese sauce. And boy, does this make a difference!

This soup tastes like it comes from Provence's culinary central casting.