Cod

These individual Moroccan pies are made with the paper-thin pancake-type pastry called ouarka (page 125), but fillo can be used. They are deliciously spicy and herby, with masses of parsley and cilantro. Serve them as a first or as a main course.

This is a dish that is served cold and is especially good for a buffet party. It is beautiful and dramatic. Get a large white fish—sea bass would be great but is expensive; cod or haddock will do very well. (Although salmon is not a fish used in Lebanon, and not a fish of the Mediterranean regions, it is good to serve in this way.) Have the fish skinned and also filleted, if you like, and ask for the head and tail. Cooked in foil, the fish steams in its own juice and the flesh remains moist. The pine nut sauce, tarator bi senobar, has a very delicate flavor.

I like to make this dish with cod, but other fish such as bream, turbot, monkfish, and grouper may also be used.

This is good hot or cold and can be made well in advance. The best fish to use is bream, cod, haddock, or turbot.

The marinade and sauce called chermoula that gives the distinctive flavor to this dish is used in most Moroccan fish dishes, whether fried, steamed, or cooked in a tagine. Every town, every family, has its own special combination of ingredients. Bream, haddock, and turbot can also be used.

A coating of herbed mayonnaise keeps the fish moist while it bakes.

This recipe is a twist on the classic lemon-and-caper-based Italian piccata sauce. Here I feature spicy smoked paprika and tangy kalamata olives, creating a unique, savory flavor. I've used cod, though halibut would also work well. The trick is to choose a thicker fish that can absorb this spicy sauce. Serve with a big green salad or steamed kale.

Traditional chowders all start off with a hearty soup base of onions and potatoes, and that makes a good soup just by itself. To this fragrant base you then add chunks of fish, or clams, or corn, or whatever else seems appropriate. (Note: You may leave out the pork and substitute another tablespoon of butter for sautéing the onions.)

This is one of our family's cherished holiday dishes, a creamy, garlicky appetizer spread, full of flavor, that we enjoy on everything—good crusty bread, grilled bread, carckers, crostini, bread sticks, carrot sticks, celery sticks, even spaghetti, gnocchi, risotto. It is good as an hors d'oeuvre, an appetizer, or a main course, and great for parties. It brings lots of complex flavor to anything that it is spread on. Baccalà mantecato is important to our family, though, for more than its addictive savor. It is a link to Istria, my native region, where the imminent arrival of Christmas at our house (and everyone else's) was scented by the unmistakable vapors of dried codfish, cooking for hours and hours. These were not fish from our local waters, but a delicacy from Northern Europe, a fish that was brought in to be bartered and exchanged for olive oil and good Mediterranean wine, carefully selected and dearly bought. But despite the expense, or the time and labor in its preparation, baccalà mantecato was the mark of a good cook in Istria, and many would stop in at a particular house not just for the hoilday greetings but also for a taste of the baccalà. In our household, my father was the chief cook of baccalà mantecato—it was his one culinary triumph—and that makes it all the more special to me. Though he has been gone for many years, his masterful touch with this dish remains with me and inspires me; every time I make it now, I remember him, with every bite.

A first course with a serious wow factor. Even though this terrine is labor-intensive, it's not as fussy and last-minute as quenelles, and its ethereal texture rivals theirs. The salmon roe adds sparkle and zing both on the plate and on the palate, but if you want to take the terrine in a slightly different direction, use a small dice of blanched, peeled carrot in its place. You'll get a delicate crunch instead of a briny pop in the mouth.

Bake the potato in the microwave to save time. You can use any mild white fish instead of cod.

Your eyes aren't playing tricks on you: Yes, after simmering the fish with aromatics, wine, and tomatoes, we advise you to force every last bit through a food mill—heads, tails, bones, and all—for an incredibly lush soup, tasting of a beautiful union between land and sea (the food mill will strain any unwanted solids to be discarded). A garlicky rouille, exotic with a touch of crumbled saffron, further coaxes out the natural richness of the fish.

Side dishes made from fresh legumes, vegetables, and mint can be found all over Italy, but this quickly cooked version cuts down on labor by using frozen peas and artichoke hearts. It adds a bright touch of spring to cod’s meaty white flakes.

Miso soup and quick-roasted mushrooms give Pacific cod a meaty umami boost.

Broiling delicate hake gives it a slightly golden crust and a flaky, moist center. That texture is made all the more memorable when it's paired with rustic sautéed mushrooms.

To fry the fish-and-chips, you will need a deep fryer or a large stockpot.

We usually encounter only one version of Brazil's signature dish in this country — the one from Bahia, rich and almost currylike with coconut milk and dendê oil. This lighter one, from Espírito Santo, reflects that state's long coastline: Its bright broth results from the fish, tomatoes, lime juice, and vegetables, which meld beautifully. And it couldn't be easier. You simply layer the marinated seafood with the other ingredients in a cold pan and turn up the heat, simmering for just 20 minutes.

Inspired by croquettes, these brightly spiced fish cakes will transport you to sunnier shores. The recipe takes advantage of the large flake and meatiness of hake to give crab cakes a run for their money.

A deconstructed romesco sauce adds great texture to hake. Pacific cod also works well.

This recipe brings smoky paprika and a jolt of briny capers to fish and chips.

Cod and potato are the cornerstones of one of the classics of American cooking: fish chowder. Here they take on a new form as the basis for these distinctly New England potato pancakes.

Mild fillets get zing from a coating of wasabi mayonnaise.

Fish stews abound throughout the Mediterranean and most evolved from the fishing boats themselves, as fishermen reserved the worst of their catch for themselves and cooked it on-board.

Editor's note: The recipe below is excerpted from Tyler Florence's Eat This Book. To read more about Tyler Florence and to get his tips on throwing a Super Bowl party, click here. Cod was once one of the most valuable commodities in the world — it was the sustainable protein for most of Europe for about five hundred years. Before refrigeration, most of Europe survived on salted, air-dried cod fillets (salt cod) and Portugal has been one of the largest producers for hundreds of years. When used in cooking, salt cod is first soaked to remove much of the salt. It is reconstructed in simmering milk enhanced with garlic and then used a million different ways: as a means of adding salt to food (similar to the way anchovies are used), folded into stews, or mixed with creamy, soft, cooked potatoes to form bacalao, the Portuguese national dish. This is my take on bacalao. I've spiked the potato mix with chopped parsley and cilantro, which gives it a very fresh, clean flavor, and then quickly fried small bits into crisp, golden fritters. Squeeze fresh lemon over the top and you've got a fantastic hors d'oeuvre that's original and very easy to make.