813 recipes. Page 31 of 34
Curry, stir-fry noodles, and Asian recipes
Two kinds of heat meet here: the chili burn of doubanjiang, a fermented chili bean paste, and the tingling numbness of ground Sichuan pepper. That numbing quality, called ma in Sichuan cooking, is what separates mapo tofu from other spicy braises. Soft tofu takes on the rusty-red sauce at its edges while the center stays silken, and spooned over steamed rice, the thick sauce runs down between the grains.
A large, thin crepe of fermented rice and urad dal (black lentil) batter is cooked until it crackles, then folded around potatoes seasoned with mustard seeds, curry leaves, and turmeric. In South India it turns up from breakfast to dinner, with coconut chutney and sambar, a lentil and vegetable stew, on the side. How long the batter ferments sets both its tang and its crispness.
Of the Thai curries, massaman leans furthest from chili heat and closest to a sweet, savory braise, a style rooted in the Muslim communities of southern Thailand. Warm spices in the paste, more cinnamon and cardamom than fresh chili, make it read like a stew next to a green or red curry. Chicken thighs and big chunks of potato cook in coconut milk until the potato edges soften and thicken the sauce, and peanuts add crunch.
Turned out of its steaming bowl, this Hakka dish lands as neat rows of soy-darkened pork belly sitting on a bed of preserved mustard greens, with the juices poured back over the top. Over an hour of steaming, the salt and fermented tang of the greens works its way into the pork.
Shrimp filling sandwiched between two squares of crustless white bread fries into a crisp toast shell with a springy center. The shrimp is chopped coarsely with the back of a knife, never ground, and the pieces are still there when you bite in.
Under a thick coat of coarse panko is a mix of ground pork and beef much like a hamburger steak, and cutting in lets out the juices the crust held. In Tokyo, neighborhood butchers have long fried them every day for the display case, and eating one hot from the paper bag on the street is an old habit.
Silver gizzard shad fillets come out of the jar coated in yellow millet grains, cured in sweet vinegar with a dried red chili tucked between the layers. This is an Edo New Year dish: kohada is a fish that changes its name as it grows, a symbol of rising fortune, and millet stands for a full harvest. It spends a few days in the refrigerator, until the sweet vinegar reaches the center, before going into the osechi box.
The name means black clothing, and the pork loin arrives exactly that way, coated in a dark, glossy layer of black sesame. Once a dish of the Ryukyu royal court in Okinawa, it is steamed rather than grilled, which lets sesame toasted and ground until oily wrap the lean loin without scorching.
A floury potato center, a thin crisp coat, and sweet-salty miso sauce come in that order with each bite of this Chichibu snack from Saitama, once eaten by farmers as kojuhan, a small bite between stretches of field work. The sauce is poured over rather than tossed so some crisp edges stay dry.
Five-spice powder, with its cinnamon and star anise, perfumes the soy broth, which sets moo palo apart from a plain soy braise even though both turn the same deep brown. Thai home cooks simmer pork and boiled eggs together for a long time and ladle the braise over warm rice with plenty of broth.
Dough stretched paper-thin with oiled hands is wrapped around curried ground beef and beaten egg, folded into a square parcel, and pan-fried until both sides turn golden. The result is layers of crisp pastry around a moist, savory center. Unlike plain roti canai, this Malaysian stuffed flatbread makes a full meal on its own, cut into pieces and dipped in curry sauce or chutney.
Slice into na-dofu and the cut face is flecked with chopped greens and carrot, set right into the curd. In the mountain village of Shiiba in Miyazaki, cooks stretched precious soybeans this way, adding rape blossoms or mitsuba in spring and the pungent leaves of Heike turnip from autumn on. Mustard greens stand in for the turnip leaves here. The tofu is never soaked in water after pressing; it is cut and eaten right away with soy sauce or yuzu miso.
Young edible loofah, nabera in Okinawan, gives off a clear, faintly sweet juice as it cooks, and that juice mixes with red miso into something moister than a stir-fry yet thicker than a soup. Nbushi refers to simmering with miso, and this summer home dish adds pork belly and hand-torn chunks of firm island tofu. No plain water goes in, only the loofah's own juice and a little of the pork cooking broth.
No heat touches namero, so the cold, fresh horse mackerel keeps its texture while miso adds salt and ginger, green onion, and shiso add sharp aromatics. It is a fishermen's dish from the Boso Peninsula in Chiba, and the name is said to come from the urge to lick the plate clean. Two knives chop the mix until the pieces of fish all but disappear and the paste turns fluffy and slightly sticky, lifting with the blade.
Etsu fried crisp in potato starch goes straight into a vinegar-soy marinade while still hot, so the fish absorbs it quickly and the thin-cut vegetables stay crunchy. The fish is caught only during a short season from May to July in the Chikugo area of Fukuoka, and its many fine bones call for closely spaced cuts along the body. Served chilled, it is a summer side dish.
Narazuke, Nara's vegetables pickled in sake lees, is chopped and folded into a sweet-soy simmer of fiddlehead fern (zenmai), kanpyo gourd strips, shiitake, konjac strips, carrot, and fried tofu. On its own the pickle is strong, but spread through so many soft vegetables its boozy aroma and firm crunch become a gentle accent. This everyday side dish from Nara is eaten fully cooled.
Hetamurasaki is a small Kaga eggplant with thin skin and soft flesh that keeps its shape even after a long simmer. In Kanazawa it is scored with a cross and cooked whole in a clear broth of dashi and light soy sauce in summer, then eaten slightly cooled or chilled.
The name means water dosa in Kannada, and the batter really is close to water: soaked rice and a little fresh coconut ground thinner than any regular dosa batter. It comes from the coastal Mangalore region of Karnataka in southwestern India. Because nothing is fermented, there is none of the sourness of masala dosa, only a clean rice flavor. Poured from the edge of a hot pan inward, the batter sets into a soft, lacy sheet full of tiny holes, cooked on one side and never flipped.
Vinegar is added only at the very end, so a sweet soy simmer of burdock, carrot, lotus root, shiitake, shirataki, and fried tofu picks up a bright sour note while the lotus root keeps some crunch. It comes from around Mito in Ibaraki, and one theory traces the name to nite aeru, to simmer and then dress. Families made big batches for New Year and ceremonies and ate it the next day, and it still tastes best after a night in the refrigerator.
The name leads with meat, but tofu is the center of the pot, with thin beef and Kujo negi, Kyoto's long green onion, in a sweet soy broth around it. It is a winter home dish in Kyoto. The slick gel inside the onion leaves is not rinsed off, and the onion cooks for only the last two minutes to keep its sweetness and aroma.
Thin slices of beef, potatoes, onion, carrot, and shirataki noodles simmer in dashi sweetened with mirin and sugar and seasoned with soy sauce, a combination many Japanese people tie to home cooking. One story traces it to a Meiji-era naval officer trying to recreate British beef stew with Japanese ingredients, which would explain why the result is a clear soy braise rather than a thick, flour-bound stew.
The cabbage mixed into the ground pork gives off its water, keeping the filling juicy inside the fluffy steamed dough. The filling is seasoned with ginger, soy sauce, and sesame oil, and a little sugar makes the dough faintly sweet.
Red soybean miso, aged from a soybean koji, gives this Aichi stew a dark broth with deep savoriness, a little acidity, and a faint astringency. Also called misoni, it grew out of the soybean miso tradition best known through Hatcho miso. Every household loads the pot with daikon, carrot, burdock, taro, konnyaku, and fried tofu, but some keep plenty of broth and eat it like a hot pot while others cook it down to a thicker simmer.
In Niigata's noppe, the broth thickens lightly from the taro's own starch, with no thickener added. Water from soaking dried scallops and shiitake forms the base, and taro, bamboo shoot, carrot, konnyaku, kamaboko fish cake, ginkgo nuts, and salted salmon are cut to similar sizes. Families make big pots for New Year, weddings, memorial services, and funerals, eat it warm or cold, and top each bowl with salmon roe.