Andouille Skewers

Andouille Skewers

A Cajun cookout skewer, the kind of thing that comes off the grill at a Louisiana backyard barbecue while the gumbo is finishing on the back burner. You take andouille (the heavily smoked, garlicky Cajun pork sausage) and cut it into thick coins, then thread them onto pre-soaked wooden skewers (or metal) with chunks of red and green pepper, red onion, and a few halved cherry tomatoes. Brush with a quick Cajun glaze of melted butter, garlic, brown sugar, hot sauce and Cajun seasoning. Onto a hot grill over high heat for just long enough to char the vegetables and bring the sausage shiny and sticky. Eaten straight off the skewer with a beer in the other hand, the smoke still hanging in the air.

Snacks 27 minutes Serves8
Choripán Chileno

Choripán Chileno

Chile's street sandwich and the food that fuels any Sunday football game or summer picnic. You take a Chilean longaniza (or any good fresh pork sausage), split it lengthways but leave it attached at one end so it opens like a butterfly, and grill it six minutes per side until the surface is charred and the inside still juicy. Marraqueta rolls split and toast briefly on the grill, the sausage tucks into the roll, and a generous spoonful of pebre goes on top. Some hands add a dab of mayo or mustard. Eaten immediately, standing up, with a beer in the other hand.

Snacks 27 minutes Serves4
Jhal Muri

Jhal Muri

Jhal muri (literally "spicy puffed rice") is the most democratic snack in Bengal: assembled in seconds from a tin trunk by a muriwala, tipped into a rolled-newspaper cone, and eaten standing on a pavement for the price of a few rupees. The base is muri (puffed rice), and everything else is built around the principle of contrast. Raw mustard oil is the soul of the dish, sharp and nasal and slightly bitter; without it you have a salad, not jhal muri. The vegetables stay raw and crunchy, onion, green chilli, cucumber, tomato, chopped into tiny dice so each spoonful gets one of each. Peanuts and chana chur (or sev) add fat and crunch; black salt and chaat masala add the funky-tangy depth that makes Indian street snacks addictive. The lime goes in last so the puffs don't soften. This is a dish where technique matters less than ingredient quality: muri must be crisp (refresh in a dry pan if it's gone soft), mustard oil must be the proper pungent kind, and the lime must be fresh. It is everywhere in Bengal, tea-time at home, train platforms, the Maidan on a winter afternoon, and there is no recipe in any cookbook that quite captures the feel of it being mixed in front of you in a paper cone.

Snacks 10 minutes Serves2