721 recipes. Page 14 of 31
Pasta, steak, and other Western recipes
Rich, salty smoked salmon meets buttery avocado, and capers pop with briny tang in almost every bite. With nothing to cook, the salad comes together fast, and the only thing to hold back is the avocado, sliced at the last moment so it stays green.
Spread all the way to the edge, the cheese melts into a glue that holds the two tortillas together and lets the wedges cut cleanly with the filling in place. Sharp cheddar brings flavor while mozzarella brings stretch, wrapped around paprika-seasoned chicken thigh, onion, and bell pepper. To protect the crunch, the vegetables are cooked only until the pan bottom looks fairly dry, as moisture from the filling is what usually ruins it. Cut into 8 wedges and serve warm with sour cream or salsa.
The layers are stacked in the reverse of a usual pizza: mozzarella on the bottom, sausage in the middle, and crushed tomatoes on top. Dough pressed up the sides of a deep cast-iron pan holds it all like a pie crust. Cooking the sausage and onion until the watery bubbling stops keeps that thick base from going soggy. The style dates to Pizzeria Uno in Chicago in 1943.
Grainy mac and cheese usually comes down to two things: flour lumps that never dissolved and cheese that split into grease from too much heat. Adding the milk in three parts prevents the first, and melting the cheddar over very low heat prevents the second. The macaroni comes out of the water underdone and finishes cooking in the sauce. If baking, the dish stays in the oven only until the top browns, which keeps the inside creamy.
Beef brisket is simmered until tender, cooled completely and shredded into fine strands, then tossed with lettuce, tomato, red onion and jalapeño in lime juice and cider vinegar and eaten cold.
Sage leaves and prosciutto pressed onto thin chicken cutlets turn crisp as they cook, the sage almost frying in the ham's fat. The Italian name roughly means it jumps into the mouth. Flour goes only on the bare side, giving it a light crust while the prosciutto side browns directly. A quick wine and stock reduction finished with cold butter turns glossy and softens the salty edge of the ham. Pounding the meat to about 1 cm keeps thin spots from drying out.
Crack the golden crust with a spoon and a thick cream sauce full of chicken, carrot, potato and peas comes up in a puff of steam. It is an everyday American home bake, and the sauce is butter and flour cooked together, then loosened with chicken stock and cream.
Mala sauce, the numbing, chili-hot seasoning of Sichuan cooking, gets wrapped in cream, milk and Parmigiano, so the tingle stays but the burn is gentler. Chicken thigh is browned hard before the mala sauce is stirred in, so the meat picks up the spice before the cream does. Mala sauces differ a lot in saltiness from brand to brand, so the recipe starts with 1 tablespoon and leaves final seasoning until the cream is in. Pasta water, added a little at a time, keeps the cream sauce from splitting, and when it is right the sauce no longer pools in the pan but sits in the spirals of the fusilli.
Six layers of romaine, cucumber, cherry tomato, peas, chopped egg, and red onion show through the side of a glass bowl, capped with Greek yogurt and lemon. Egg brings mild richness, peas a starchy sweetness, and red onion a sharp edge against the creamy top. Serve with a spoon that reaches all the way to the bottom, so every plate gets every layer.
Chicken tenderloins have a fine grain, so a short 4 to 5 minute fry in 170 degree oil leaves them juicy instead of dry. The coating goes on in three layers: flour, egg beaten with milk, then breadcrumbs pressed firmly. Milk thins the egg so it coats smoothly and the crumbs grip evenly. They are at their best straight from the paper towel, while the crust still crackles.
The light, springy crumb that bounces back like a sponge when pressed comes from stiffly whipped egg whites. Oil instead of butter means it stays soft straight from the fridge, the main difference from a butter cake. The chiffon pan is left ungreased, and the cake is turned upside down as soon as it leaves the oven; cooled right side up, it sinks under its own weight.
Most of the flavor comes from spreading the ground beef across a hot pan and letting the moisture cook off until brown bits form. Left in a heap, the meat steams pale instead. Tomato paste worked in between the meat without lumps, then a low simmer, gives a thick sauce that clings to the beef rather than pooling under the spaghetti. As it thickens it catches on the bottom easily and needs an occasional stir. There is no wine or milk, just beef, tomato, onion and garlic, finished with Parmesan and a few basil leaves.
Finely grated feta covers chopped tomato, cucumber, green pepper, and onion like a layer of snow in Bulgaria's best-known salad. There is no separate dressing: juice from ripe tomatoes mixes with the olive oil and red wine vinegar and becomes the sauce at the bottom of the bowl. Green pepper's grassy bitterness keeps the salty cheese and watery vegetables from tasting one-note. The feta brings plenty of salt on its own, so the vegetables get only a light seasoning to start. Scraping out the cucumber's seed section means less water diluting that sauce, and tossing right before eating keeps the vegetables firm.
Chicken and potatoes share one skillet in this Chicago Italian-American dish, braised with garlic, oregano, and dry white wine. As the wine and stock reduce, the potatoes soak up the sauce and turn fluffy. The skin needs at least 5 minutes undisturbed to brown deeply; that browned layer in the pan is what gives the sauce its depth. Peas and lemon juice go in at the very end to add color and freshness to an otherwise heavy sauce.
Measured in cups the American home-baking way, this dough uses equal amounts of white and brown sugar, landing between crisp and chewy. Shift the balance toward brown sugar and the cookies turn softer and chewier, since it holds moisture; more white sugar makes them spread wider and bake crisper.
Japanese-style cream pasta uses mentaiko, salted pollock roe, in two ways: two thirds melts into the butter and cream sauce, and the rest goes on top raw with crumbled roasted seaweed. A teaspoon of lemon juice at the end lightens the cream. The roe is stirred in with the burner off or barely on. Over strong heat it turns fishy.
Thin slices of strawberry and a honey-balsamic dressing lay sweet and tart notes over tender baby spinach. Toasted walnuts and very thin red onion keep the salad from tipping into dessert, one with crunch and the other with a sharp bite.
Fried tortilla chips get only about 30 seconds of tossing in the tomato-chili sauce before plating, just enough to leave them half soft and half crisp. The sauce is reduced until thick first so the chips absorb it quickly instead of sitting in liquid. A fried egg tops this Mexican breakfast, its runny yolk breaking into the sauce to make it richer, while cheddar and cilantro add salt and freshness. The heat level depends on the amount of jalapeno.
A short bake in a very hot oven sets the sides and top like cake while the center stays as melted chocolate that runs out at the first spoonful. Since the cakes are turned out onto the plate, the ramekins are buttered and coated with cocoa with no gaps. The batter can wait in the ramekins in the fridge; baked straight from cold, it needs 1 or 2 minutes more.
Minari, a Korean water dropwort, takes the place of basil, blended with walnuts and Parmesan into a pesto that tastes green, cool and faintly bitter. Lemon juice keeps the oil-rich sauce from feeling heavy, and browned chicken thigh makes it a full meal. Crown daisy (ssukgat) can stand in when minari is hard to find, though the aroma shifts.
Thinned with lemon juice, ssamjang (the soybean and chili dipping paste used for Korean lettuce wraps) becomes a savory dressing sturdy enough for raw kale. The kale's slight bitterness suits that nutty, salty depth, and red cabbage and cucumber add juicy crunch. Golden pan-seared tofu edges and sliced almonds supply the crunch in the name; scatter the almonds at the last minute so they stay crisp.
With hot meat chili underneath and cheese sauce poured over it, every fry picks up both spice and creaminess. Chopped jalapeno adds a sharp, fresh heat that cuts the richness.
A spoon breaking through the thin, set crust finds hot chocolate cream underneath that is still half liquid. The table and any vanilla ice cream should be ready before the ramekins enter the oven, since it starts to sink almost as soon as it comes out. The butter and sugar lining gives the batter something to climb, and without it the rise tilts or splits.
Any vegetables left in the fridge can go into this soup, as long as the order holds: firm ones like carrot and celery soften in oil first, quick-cooking zucchini and beans come later. Ditalini cook directly in the pot, and their starch thickens the broth; if it turns too heavy, hot vegetable stock loosens it without cooling the soup down. Fresh basil and a drizzle of olive oil are added after the heat is off.