Shrimp

Thai food lovers will recognize this soup as the classic tom yaam goong. In its homeland the dish would have far more hot chilies. We've toned down the heat for newcomers to this cuisine, but veterans can add more chilies to make this soup as incendiary as they wish.

Here's a marinade that was inspired by the spicy food served at a favorite Connecticut restaurant of the same name. It's nice for jumbo shrimp, sea scallops and chicken. The recipe makes enough to marinate about 1 1/2 pounds of seafood or poultry. Any marinade coming in contact with raw meat, seafood or poultry must be boiled for one minute before using it for basting.

Can be prepared in 45 minutes or less but requires additional unattended time.

With its sweet taste and firm flesh, mahimahi lends itself well to poaching. Halibut, swordfish and salmon would also be good prepared this way. Serve glasses of chilled Sémillon or Chardonnay to go with the main course.

Feta cheese, cucumber, tomato and fresh dell enliven this simple salad.

(San Francisco-Style Seafood Soup) Cioppino is San Francisco's answer to bouillabaisse and, like that famous Provencal seafood soup, is made with a variety of the freshest fish possible. In San Francisco the mixture included Dungeness crab, which adds a unique flavor, but any regional crab will do. If crab is not available, substitute another shellfish. No clams? Try mussels. The point is to treat the following recipe as a guide and use whatever looks best in the market the day you make the soup.

You can prepare this brightly colored dip up to two days ahead.

Here is a light and festive way to introduce a holiday meal. This elegant soup goes very well with Champagne.

A simple dish from the Cottage Inn, Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Can be prepared in 45 minutes or less.

With steamed asparagus and some rice or mashed potatoes, this easy dish is elegant enough for company.

My mother had no interest in cooking, but did what she could to get a nutritious dinner on the table with the least possible effort. The concept of a "recipe" was virtually unknown to her. Most nights, dinner was composed of exactly one item from each of the four food groups, for example: a baked potato, boiled peas, broiled chicken, and ice cream. No two ingredients touched each other until they got to our plates. We always had plenty of shrimp in the house (my father was a seafood importer), so my mother took advantage of this food supply by keeping bowls of boiled shrimp with ketchup and horseradish in the refrigerator. Then, on special nights, my mother would give it all she had and make what we called a "dish." We celebrated her efforts at combining ingredients, but the results were never worth the wait.