By Genevieve Ko, The New York Times
LOS ANGELES — Anchoring a bright corner of the historic, fast-changing West Adams neighborhood, Alta Adams reopened at the end of May, and fans wondered whether it’d be the same. The sun, unfiltered by trees, still fills the dining room with a honey glow. A first-date energy still runs among the tables filled with cool diners, turned by even cooler servers, and they all still reflect the city’s diversity.
Whatap changed is the menu: Chef Keith Corbin turned Alta Adams’ original “California soul food” lineup into “seasonal California cuisine.” So you can’t order his fantastic fried chicken and oxtails anymore, but you can get the same depth of flavor — miraculously, unsurprisingly — in cucumber ribbons and charred melon, wedges of stone fruit and tomatoes.
Corbin describes this evolution as a personal one, the shifts at Alta Adams a mirror to his kitchen journey. But he’s also redefining California cuisine, along with other chefs throughout the state, and nowhere is that more evident than in salads that taste like endless summer.
The foundation of California cuisine — pretty embarrassing riches of fruits and vegetables — hasn’t changed. The state produces nearly half of the country’s vegetables and more than three-quarters of its fruits and nuts. Those good things come year-round, and in California, not only at farmers’ markets but also falling free from neighbors’ trees. These days, the ways of preparing them are as abundant as the produce itself.
What we now consider California cuisine started when Alice Waters opened Chez Panisse in Berkeley in 1971 and championed local, seasonal produce, preparing it with a French sensibility. For years after, chefs up and down the state did the same, drawing largely from Western European cuisines and leaning heavily on Italy.
In those same decades, and the decades since, a lot of people moved to California and brought a world of foods with them, while longtime locals, especially those indigenous to the land and those farming the produce, created and recreated dishes with the changing environment. Following more recent labels of “fusion” (marrying different cuisines), “diaspora” (tracing foods with migration) and “third culture” (layering personal backgrounds into dishes), there’s now a less-defined approach for what may be the most delicious iteration of California cuisine yet. Itap no longer largely Mediterranean nor is it mashups or anything goes. Instead, itap at once freer and more curated, as chefs loosely take inspiration from around the globe but with care and restraint.
“When putting together a dish, you can put too much,” Corbin said. “The produce still has to be the star, and that takes discipline.”
When Corbin picks up a beautiful fruit from the farmers’ market, he asks himself what ingredients and techniques would bring out its best, while keeping his roots in mind. In the case of taut tomatoes and stone fruit like pluots, he decided to apply West African suya. Corbin took apart the traditional blend of ground spices and peanuts, swapping in whole California pistachios and coating them with suya’s ginger, garlic and onion powders. He then tossed in a bit of sugar to lightly candy the nuts into a crunchy sprinkle.
That suya crunch alone is enough to highlight the fruitap tang, but Corbin makes this dish spectacular by bringing in more pistachios, blending them into a rich yogurt sauce. Spread onto a plate to cradle the fruit, the swoosh adds creaminess to each crisp, juicy bite.
Like Corbin, chef and author Melissa King builds a tomato salad by prioritizing the tomato and not by reflexively drizzling it with a French vinaigrette. Drawing inspiration from her travels, she stays grounded in her Northern California cooking ethos and Southern California childhood.
“When I think of tomatoes, I think of SF life, going to farmers’ markets,” she said. “You can smell the tomatoes, the tomato vines, fresh basil as you’re walking. A lot of this dish was inspired by the beauty of summer, capturing those flavors.”
She douses wedges in a fish sauce vinaigrette, inspired by the Vietnamese nuoc cham she grew up with in the San Gabriel Valley of Southern California. The flurry of peanuts and fried shallots on top came from the green papaya salad she learned to cook in Thailand. Altogether, this salad showcases how she embraced what she calls “Asian flavors” after training professionally in “Italian, French and Eurocentric” restaurants. Now, she leans into “the fun you can have with it” and suggests tossing everything with toasted bread to turn it into panzanella.
“Itap become quite global, influenced by wherever I’ve been,” she said of her cooking. “Everyone’s influencing each other, and itap beautiful to see.”
With the spread of farmers’ market culture, the diversity of flavors applied to California-grown produce exploded. And once chefs born in California found peace with changing the dishes of their heritage while staying true to their spirit — and adopting others’ cuisines respectfully — the food simply became more delicious.
Like King, Elijah Deleon grew up in the farther reaches of Los Angeles County and trained in the Northern California style — but without heading up the coast. After years of working in Santa Monica with chef Jeremy Fox, author of the seminal “On Vegetables,” Deleon is now the executive chef at Rustic Canyon.
He first learned to cook birria and albondigas from his mother and grandmother, who are originally from Jalisco, Mexico, and then “became obsessive with heirloom varietals” of fruits and vegetables at his local farmers’ market in Torrance, California. He now integrates Mexican cuisine into most of his restaurant dishes, as with her charred corn dish.
Growing up, he would buy esquites after soccer games at the park, and he turned that snack into a salad, topping aioli-coated corn with slices of fresh shishito peppers.
“Shishitos are underrated raw,” he said. “They add a nice green pepper complexity and a lot of freshness.”
When they’re not available, Deleon swaps in any mild, thin-skinned peppers that look good, and he encourages home cooks to do the same. He’s as flexible with the cheese, which is sometimes a housemade queso fresco but more often a nutty, sweet cheddar for a rubble of salty richness over smoky sweet corn.
But you don’t need California roots to cook new California cuisine, especially since part of its identity is the influx of new styles. Sarah Hymanson and Sara Kramer arrived in Los Angeles from New York, with Brooklyn farm-to-table sensibilities, and they now run their flagship Kismet and its expanding group of fast-casual offspring.
Their vegetable dishes often fulfill out-of-state fantasies of peak Los Angeles produce. And thatap not a bad thing. Take their spoon salad, modeled on Middle Eastern-style tomato-cucumber salads, but filled with a cool monochrome dice of melon, cucumber and avocado. A gloss of lemon juice and olive oil binds their natural juices, with basil and dill to perfume it all.
Itap easy — they’re all easy — and thatap the point. The new California cuisine doesn’t demand excessive seasonings, modernist techniques or rules around crossing cultures. It grows naturally, organically if you will, from everything here, the vegetables, fruits, cultures and most of all, the people.
Pluot-Tomato Salad With Suya Pistachio Crunch
Recipe from Keith Corbin
Adapted by Genevieve Ko
This spectacular summer dish layers tangy, juicy pluots and ripe tomatoes with a creamy pistachio yogurt sauce and crunchy, spicy pistachios, making each bite thrilling. Chef Keith Corbin created it for his Los Angeles restaurant Alta Adams to celebrate the best of local summer fruits. He decided to season them with West African suya but took apart the traditional blend of ground spices and peanuts, swapping in whole California-grown pistachios and coating them with suya’s ginger, garlic and onion powders. He then tossed in a bit of sugar to lightly candy the nuts into a crunchy sprinkle thatap great on, frankly, anything. At the restaurant, Corbin sometimes makes this with lightly grilled peaches, plums, nectarines and other stone fruits, but good fruit will still taste great uncooked.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Total time: 30 minutes
Ingredients
For the suya pistachio crunch:
- 2 teaspoons ground ginger
- 1/2 teaspoon brown sugar
- 1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne
- 1/4 teaspoon ground grains of paradise (see Tip) or black pepper
- 1/4 teaspoon onion powder
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal)
- 3/4 cup shelled unsalted pistachios
- 1 1/2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
For the pistachio cream:
- 1/3 cup shelled unsalted pistachios
- 1/4 cup heavy cream
- 2 tablespoons plain full-fat Greek yogurt
- 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
- 1 tablespoon lemon juice
- 1 teaspoon honey
- 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal)
For the salad:
- 3 large heirloom tomatoes, cut into pieces
- 2 large pluots, cut into pieces
- Extra-virgin olive oil, for drizzling
- Balsamic vinegar, for drizzling
- Fresh basil or mint leaves or a combination, torn if large
- Flaky salt, for sprinkling
Preparation
1. Make the suya pistachio crunch: Heat the oven to 300 degrees. Line a small rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
2. Mix the ginger, brown sugar, cayenne, grains of paradise, onion powder, garlic powder and salt in a small bowl. Add the pistachios and oil, and toss to evenly coat. Spread in a single layer on the prepared pan.
3. Bake until browned and fragrant, 15 to 17 minutes. Cool completely on the pan, then coarsely chop. The crunch can be kept in an airtight container for up to 1 week.
4. Make the pistachio cream: Using a spice grinder or blender, grind the pistachios until very finely ground. Transfer to a bowl and stir in the cream, yogurt, oil, lemon juice, honey and salt until very well-blended. The cream can be covered and refrigerated for up to 2 days.
5. Assemble the salad: Spread the pistachio cream on smaller plates or a large platter. Arrange the tomatoes and pluots on top, drizzle lightly with oil and vinegar, then sprinkle with the herbs and salt. Scatter the suya pistachio crunch on top. Serve immediately.
Tip
Grains of paradise, also known as melegueta pepper, are tiny brown seeds with a peppery aroma used in dishes throughout Africa. Related to cardamom and ginger, its fragrance is unique and complex. It can be purchased online and in spice stores or African markets.
Summer Melon Spoon Salad
Recipe from Sarah Hymanson and Sara Kramer
Adapted by Genevieve Ko
Meant to be scooped into your mouth with a spoon — all the better to capture the lemony dressing in each bite — this cool monochrome salad of juicy sweet melon and crisp cucumbers is especially refreshing. Chefs Sarah Hymanson and Sara Kramer don’t serve it at their Los Angeles restaurants, but they created it for “Kismet” (Clarkson Potter, 2024), their cookbook of the same name. In it, they capture their love of fruits and vegetables with dishes meant for home cooks, and this is their California take on classic Middle Eastern diced tomato-cucumber salads. Mixing in ripe avocado at the end keeps the cubes from falling apart but still lends creaminess to the mix. Itap a great dish to serve with other salads, anything grilled or just a hunk of bread for a light meal.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Total time: 20 minutes
Ingredients
- 2 cups diced seeded green melon, such as honeydew
- 2 cups diced mini cucumbers (3 or 4 cucumbers)
- 2 tablespoons finely chopped white onion
- 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
- 1/4 cup lemon juice (from about 2 lemons)
- 2 teaspoons kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal)
- 1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
- 1 ripe avocado, diced
- 1/2 cup basil leaves, torn if large
- 1/4 cup dill leaves
Preparation
1. In a large bowl, combine the melon, cucumbers and onion. (To make ahead, cover and refrigerate for up to 6 hours.)
2. Add the olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper and toss gently to coat. Just before serving, add the avocado, basil and dill and lightly toss to mix well.
Charred Corn and Cheddar Salad
Recipe from Elijah G. Deleon
Adapted by Genevieve Ko
In this take on esquites, chef Elijah G. Deleon turned his childhood snack of grilled corn mixed with mayonnaise, cotija, chile flakes and lime into a plated salad at Rustic Canyon in Santa Monica, California, where he’s the executive chef. A simple from-scratch aioli dresses charred kernels, adding the zing of garlic and Dijon, while sliced shishito peppers add a fresh, grassy crispness. The more classic cotija or queso fresco taste great here, but Deleon’s swap of aged cheddar is a fun twist. The fine crumbles bring a rich, sweet nuttiness to the mix of sweet corn, tart lime and spicy chiles flakes.
Yield: 4 to 6 servings
Total time: 25 minutes
Ingredients
For the corn:
- 4 ears of corn, shucked
- 1/4 cup finely sliced chives
- 1 to 2 tablespoons lime juice
- Salt
- 1/3 cup finely crumbled sharp white cheddar (see Tip) or crumbled queso fresco, cotija or feta
- Scant 1/4 cup thinly sliced shishito peppers (from 2 to 4 peppers)
- Ground Aleppo chile or other mild chile, for sprinkling
For the aioli:
- 1 garlic clove, finely grated
- 2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
- 1 teaspoon lime juice
- 1 large egg yolk
- 5 tablespoons grapeseed or another neutral-tasting oil
- 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
- 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt (such as Diamond Crystal)
Preparation
1. Prepare the corn: Char the corn on an outdoor grill or over the flame of a stovetop gas burner until browned in spots. Transfer to a cutting board to cool completely.
2. While the corn cools, make the aioli: Whisk the garlic, mustard, lime juice and egg yolk in a large bowl. Continue whisking constantly while pouring in the oils in a thin, slow stream to form a thick emulsion. Whisk in the salt. The aioli can be covered and refrigerated for up to 2 days.
3. Slice the kernels off the cobs. Transfer the corn kernels to the bowl with the aioli and add the chives, 1 tablespoon lime juice and a pinch of salt. Mix well, then taste. Add more lime juice and salt to taste.
4. Spread the corn in a thin, even layer on a serving plate. Sprinkle the cheese, peppers and chile powder on top. Serve immediately.
Tip
To crumble cheddar, freeze a 2-ounce block until very cold and firm then pulse in a food processor to form tiny bits. Alternatively, cut the chilled block into cubes, then finely chop to crumble into tiny bits.
This article originally appeared in .
