A meaty, Middle Eastern style stuffed vegetable feast finished off with an ice-cold berry dessert

There’s something delightfully retro about stuffed vegetables. They take me back to Delia Smith’s iconic Summer Collection cookbook, which blew my tiny mind when it came out in my early teens. Too sheltered to know about the e rage that had inspired Delia, I delved into my mother’s vegetable crisper with reverence, stuffing courgettes, tomatoes and aubergines with a zeal that had escaped me at school. How could the roasting, reducing and condensing of ingredients create such explosions of flavour? I was hooked. I have recently been returning to this technique with glee, a simple solution for turning seasonal vegetables into feasts.

Wildly popular across China, these addictively fiery street food snacks spiced with cumin and chilli are yours for the making

One of the most welcome developments in the mind-bogglingly, gloriously diverse world of London dining options in recent years has been the proliferation of restaurants serving the food of the vast, automonous north-western Chinese region of Xinjiang, known by many of the predominantly Turkic-speaking Muslim Uyghur population as East Turkestan. As this fact suggests, Uyghur cooking has many similarities with other Turkic cuisines, including a love of lamb and mutton, and an aptitude for generously spiced kebabs so good that they’re now an “iconic street snack” in the Chinese capital, albeit some 3,000 miles east, in the time-honoured colonial fashion, and renamed as “old Beijing skewers”, according to that city’s own Maggie Zhu. (In Uyghur, they are, I believe, kawap, though I’d be glad to have that transliteration confirmed.)

Happily, however, you don’t need to go to Beitun or Beijing to enjoy them – or even to Golders Green – because they’re incredibly easy to recreate wherever you are, as long as you have access to a smoking hot grill. I declare this the summer of the skewer!

Whether you’re firing up midweek or taking your time with a weekend feast, try these five fabulous recipes to get you started cooking over the coals

• Get barbecue-ready with Melissa Thompson’s guide

I dabbled in barbecue for years before I got my first proper grill with a lid and vents. It was a gamechanger; I could control the airflow (to make it hotter or cooler), and the lid transformed the grill into a sort-of oven, enabling slower cooks (rather than only fast grilling). No longer was I starting chicken in my indoor oven before finishing it over the coals – I could do the whole thing outside.

I found myself lighting the grill more and more, seeking that flavour that only comes with fire and smoke, but also relishing the fact it took me outside. Nowadays, I cook everything over fire, from fish and shellfish to vegetables, beans, meat, even desserts. Fire cooking feels both instinctive and exciting because no two cooks are ever the same. People tell me they find barbecuing scary, and I understand because I once felt like this, too. But with a few basic tips, such as “zoning” your barbecue, anyone can become a pro. I truly believe that by starting to barbecue we’re not learning a skill, but re-learning something we’ve forgotten.

Cooking for kids doesn’t have to be a chore: these three meals are quick, full of flavour and, crucially, fun both to make and to eat

Family meals don’t need to mean hours in the kitchen or a mountain of washing-up. These crisp chicken nuggets are a healthier homemade favourite that kids absolutely love, while the lamb lollipops are fun and surprisingly simple; the stuffed pitta pockets, meanwhile, are perfect for lunches, after-school dinners or eating on the go. Above all, all three dishes are built for real family life: quick, full of flavour and designed to make mealtimes a little easier and a lot more enjoyable.

This classic mince dish uses cheap cuts of meat, but is endlessly rich in flavour and can be prepared in many different and delicious ways

If I see the word keema on the menu, I’m sold. Literally translating to mince in Hindi and Urdu, as with many such everyday dishes that use inexpensive cuts of meat, it’s rarely much to look at, yet inevitably punches far above its weight in the flavour department. Prepared in many different and delicious ways, consider this basic recipe a good jumping-off point for further experimentation.

Prep 15 min
Cook 50 min
Serves 4

Whether you’re grilling meat or veg, our panel agrees that the best accompaniments involve a balance of acid, fat, salt, aromatics and sweeteners

What are the best marinades and sauces for a barbecue?
Josie, by email
“Good, well-farmed meat needs none of that nonsense,” insists Richard Turner, co-founder of butcher Turner & George in London. “I want to taste the meat and, if necessary, it should be tenderised by your chosen cooking technique.”

For Josie, though, he’ll go with the flow. First things first, all good marinades have a few things in common: “You need a tenderiser, so citrus juice, vinegar, yoghurt, buttermilk, wine or enzymes [pineapple, papaya],” he says. “These acids work by breaking down the surface collagen and protein in the meat, which tenderises the exterior and lets other flavours penetrate more deeply, while enzymes break down connective tissue.” You’ll then want fat – olive oil, coconut milk, yoghurt – and seasoning – sea salt, fish sauce, soy sauce, miso. “Salt penetrates deep into the meat, breaking down muscle fibres and drawing in liquids, so increasing both moisture and flavour.” You’ve then got garlic, ginger, shallots, herbs, chilli and sweeteners (honey, maple syrup, treacle) to play with.

Got a culinary dilemma? Email feast@theguardian.com

Artichokes and peas seasoned with garlic, ground ginger and turmeric make a sensational and surprising sauce for pasta, and a showstopping Moroccan-spiced lamb shoulder with a fruity salsa

I was lucky enough to grow up in a home where we had lots of family and friends around, which meant lots of people to feed. On those occasions, if my mum wanted to make something special that required minimal effort, she served a roast lamb shoulder. After all, roasts actually follow a concept similar to traybakes: the main ingredients are combined in a roasting tin and the oven does most of the work. In Morocco, méchoui can refer to either grilled or roast dishes, but for a lamb shoulder it typically means that it’s roasted. But, first, my take on a traditional artichoke and pea tagine, a popular dish typically enjoyed in spring. In Moroccan homes, tagines are served simply with bread, without sides, but I have found that some make excellent sauces for pasta.

A fun, shareable Tunisian chickpea soup for a party, a one-pan moussaka, and a fragrant, layered, chocolate viennetta

Traditionally, this would be a Tunisian breakfast, and it’s not a million miles from one of my favourites, Egyptian ful medames. But here I’m proposing it as an evening offering: make a big pot of delicious flavourful chickpeas, then lay out a spread of accompaniments (pickles, olives, capers, boiled eggs). Second, a good traditional moussaka is a wholesome but time-consuming process, but that’s not the case with this simplified version, which you can easily make on a weeknight. Finally, you might not be surprised to learn that this basil viennetta was one of the most popular recipes when we were testing dishes for my new book, MEDesque. First, of course, because it tastes unreal. Second, because everyone got a huge tug of nostalgia, and third, because everyone became giddy with excitement, trying to figure out what the flavour was.

This hearty, slow-cooked soup is a celebration of all things Welsh, and its versatility makes it a year-round favourite

Cawl is Wales’ gift to the world of thrifty, slow-cooked broths and, like all great peasant dishes, it’s seasonal, versatile and immensely practical. A few years ago, Food & Drink Wales invited me to create two food sustainability toolkits, one for hospitality and one for the public, with both celebrating Welsh produce and recipes. This led me to explore Wales’ national dishes and discover cawl (or lobscows, the northern Welsh name for the dish) properly for the first time. Inspired by Welsh culinary legends Dudley Newbery and Tomos Parry’s recipes, it’s the perfect way to turn lamb leftovers, or even just a bone, into a hearty meal.

Our specialists weigh in on the sauce’s best uses, suggesting dressings, dips and more

My wife adores roast lamb with mint sauce. However, after an online purchasing blunder, my larder now contains six jars. How can I make use of them apart from serving roast lamb every Sunday from now until the crack of doom?
John, by email
As is so often the case, it all starts with a shift in mindset. “When you see a jar of sauce, there’s a real tendency to think, ‘I must use this as a sauce,’” says Kate Young, author of Dinner at Mine? Start treating that surplus mint sauce as an ingredient instead, however, and your life will be a whole lot easier. “If John is planning on using chopped fresh mint with, say, meat, cheese or veg, then consider how you might use mint sauce in its place,” Young adds. Case in point: pea and mint soup, says Sally Abé of the recently opened Teal by Sally Abé in east London. “Stir in the mint sauce at the end of the cooking, then blitz with the peas.”

Obvious, maybe, but it’s also worth pointing out that mint sauce has a decent shelf life, so John can be nice and relaxed in how he chooses to use the fruits of his shopping blunder. That said, sausage rolls are always a good idea, especially if you’re feeding a gang over Easter. Young says: “Put some finely chopped onion through lamb mince, then add big spoonfuls of the sauce.” Fry a bit of the mix before nestling it in pastry, mind: “You want to be sure the mint is really coming through.” (Likewise, any lamb meatball will be greatly improved by the addition of the green stuff.)

Got a culinary dilemma? Email feast@theguardian.com

This Easter feast is steeped in the flavours and traditions of the Middle East

Whenever I’m asked about my favourite dish to serve to friends and family, in most cases I’d say slow-cooked lamb at the centre of the table. After a long, slow cook, the meat becomes tender and rich, and the spices melt into every bite. Served with flatbreads, tahini, fresh herbs and sharp pickles, it invites everyone to build their own perfect mouthful. Across the Middle East and Mediterranean, lamb symbolises generosity and celebration, especially at Easter, when roasting it remains an adored tradition.

A moreish way to enjoy a popular Greek lamb recipe, accompanied by a pretty rhubarb pudding

Easter for me immediately brings to mind two things: cracking dyed red eggs together in the style of conkers (a Serbian Easter game that we play every year) and lamb. We always eat lamb at Easter lunch, and I suppose that simply harks back to religious tradition. Today’s lamb shank dish is a wonderfully straightforward and moreish take on a popular Greek recipe. I’ve gone for rhubarb for pudding, because it’s just so representative of this time of year – it’s also very pretty on the eye and a treat to eat, too.

Anna Tobias is chef/co-owner of Cafe Deco in London WC1

This classic dish needs no deviation from its time-honoured traditions – but mastering it does require some skill

The first time I dared to write a recipe for Irish stew, I was invited on to the national broadcaster, RTÉ, to discuss my choices live on air. And, to my considerable relief, it was eventually decided that I had not dishonoured the memory of my ancestors. It’s tempting for modern cooks to meddle with such resolutely plain classics. Do not! It’s delicious just as it is.

Prep 20 min
Cook 2 hr
Serves 6

Peppers stuffed with freekeh, lamb and spicy tomato sauce, and a classic Levantine aubergine dip with preserved lemon and dill

I still remember, when I was a kid, the end of spring and early summer when markets in Jerusalem and across Palestine overflowed with freshly harvested freekeh. As you approached, the air carried a smoky, earthy aroma. Freekeh is an ancient grain, a staple across the Middle East and Turkey, made from green wheat roasted over open fires to burn off the husks, which gives it the characteristic nutty flavour. The name comes from the Arabic freek, meaning “to rub”, which describes how the grains are cleaned, dried, cracked and stored for the year.

A traditional Kashmiri curry and spicy street food bring the best out of this flavourful meat

Mutton rarely gets the attention it deserves. It’s a mature meat, so is naturally sustainable, and it has a depth and richness that younger cuts simply cannot offer. That robustness is exactly what makes it so rewarding to cook with. Mutton’s bold character stands up beautifully to spices, aromatics and slow cooking, so it’s ideal for curries, stews and braises; on the grill, meanwhile, it takes on smoke in a way that enhances its complexity, rather than overwhelming it. You’re unlikely to find mutton in the supermarket, so you’ll need to make a trip to the butcher’s (many halal ones sell it) or order online.

A succulent, richly seasoned lamb pie filled with honey carrots and almonds, followed by a cardamom- and orange-spiked desert

There is little as pleasing to cook in the depths of the winter as a pot of enticingly fragrant, slow-braised meat. A shoulder of lamb is one of my favourite cuts; you, or a friendly butcher, will need to trim away its excess fat, a job that will reward you with an exquisite flavour that marries beautifully with bold spicing. Here, we travel to Morocco, with sweetly aromatic ginger, turmeric and cinnamon, and follow that with cardamom, cream and rhubarb for pudding. A sumptuous, colourful feast to stave off any February blues.

These hearty, warming dishes will brighten up the dark cold months – and remind you there is a world of flavours out there

You can’t get much more than this tender chicken by way of comfort and pure deliciousness

A cross-cultural jamboree of a festive meal, mixing Middle Eastern, west African and French cuisine: peppered smoked mackerel pies, crab gratin, slow-cooked lamb, jewelled rice, and a rum and pineapple cake to round things off

I was born in west Africa, and brought up between there, France and the UK in a French-Lebanese-British family. Unsurprisingly, then, our Christmas lunch was more than a bit diverse: my father always insisted on some British and Lebanese elements, while my mother contributed French dishes and technique; west African produce was also a must, because the house would be full of all nationalities, including our African family. Not only that, but our Christmas would invariably start with a guest list of about 20, and another 20 or so waifs and strays would always then turn up in need of feeding and watering. Today’s dishes were part of our regular seasonal festivities, as good in the sunshine as they are robust enough for a chilly British winter.