721 recipes. Page 19 of 31
Pasta, steak, and other Western recipes
Neither boiled under water nor fried dry, the kernels steam briefly in butter and a splash of water under a lid, which cooks them through while keeping them springy. Mayonnaise and crumbled cotija never meet the stove; they are spooned onto each cup afterward, and since cotija brings its own salt, salt is added a little at a time.
Pancetta, garlic, and Parmigiano Reggiano season this savory Italian pie, whose filling is 600 g of chard blanched, squeezed hard, and packed between two thin sheets of dough. Water left in the chard soaks the thin bottom crust, so the leaves are wrung out thoroughly and the cooked filling is cooled before it is spread on the dough.
Chicken thigh marinated for 10 minutes in soy sauce, honey, and garlic darkens into a sticky glaze as the sugars catch in a hot pan. Left untouched for the first minute, the pieces color properly. Tomato passata cuts through that sweet-salty coating, and garlic shows up twice, in the marinade and again in the sauce. Thigh stays juicy under high heat where breast would dry out. Since soy already brings plenty of salt, the Parmesan is grated in last, to taste.
Red, paprika-tinted fat from the chorizo slowly colors the broth while the large white beans of this Asturian stew soften all the way through without splitting. Bean starch and pork fat thicken it with no flour, and a shake of the pot rather than hard stirring keeps the bean skins whole.
Browned butter does most of the work: cooked until the foam settles and the solids turn hazelnut brown, it gives these little almond cakes a toasted, nutty smell that plain melted butter lacks. Only egg whites go into the batter, along with almond flour and a spoon of honey. The inside bakes up dense and moist while the edges turn dark and crisp.
Briny olives, salty capers and anchovies, and red pepper flakes all land in the same tomato sauce, which comes out bold and sharply defined after eight minutes of reduction. The spaghetti leaves the water a minute early and finishes in the sauce pan with reserved pasta water over high heat, where the starch binds everything to the strands and leaves no watery pool behind.
Served over rice with orange slices on the side, this Brazilian black bean and pork stew gets its smoky depth from thick-cut smoked sausage. The orange's acidity cuts through the richness of the pork shoulder, and cutting the sausage thick keeps some bite through the long simmer.
Rolled paper-thin from a dough with no yeast, the base ends up far thinner than pizza and is scattered lightly with creme fraiche, onion, and bacon. This Alsatian flatbread puts tangy creme fraiche where pizza would have tomato sauce and cheese. A very hot oven chars the edges in minutes, and it is cut and eaten while the crust still snaps.
The sauce comes almost entirely from the clams. As purged clams open in dry white wine, their briny juices hit the pan, and a minute of hard tossing with olive oil and a few spoonfuls of pasta water binds them into a glossy coating.
Simmered with the skins on, the figs turn into a jam full of seeds and soft bits of fruit that sits in a layer over cream cheese on warm baguette. Because those skins give the jam its color and texture, the figs get a quick rinse and an immediate pat dry rather than a scrub. Low heat keeps the red color and fruity smell that a hard boil would dull. The jam firms up as it cools and should leave the stove while still loose rather than set in the pot. Warming the baguette whole before slicing keeps the crumb soft while the crust crisps. Served with hot drip coffee, it makes a quick breakfast, and leftover jam keeps in the fridge for 5 days.
The vanilla custard is thickened with cornstarch on the stove before it goes into the pastry, so once the tart is baked and chilled it slices into clean, upright wedges. In Paris bakeries it sits in the case by the slice, its top freckled with caramel-brown spots.
Pre-cooked octopus is patted dry and seared hard over high heat so the outside turns chewy, then tossed with penne in a tomato cream sauce warmed up with gochugaru (Korean chili flakes). The sauce fills the tubes of the penne, so every forkful with a piece of octopus brings plenty of it along.
Fish and chips come down to timing: the potatoes are fried twice, the cod once, and the order lets both reach the table hot and crisp. Soaking the cut potatoes in cold water rinses off surface starch, and the first fry only cooks them through, ending before they take on deep color. Cold sparkling water in the batter, mixed only until a few small lumps remain, keeps the coating light rather than bready. Any surface moisture on the potatoes or fish makes the oil spit and leaves patchy crispness, so both are dried well first. The cod is done when the crust is golden and the flesh separates cleanly into flakes. Serve right away, before steam softens the crust.
Sliced almonds go into a caramel cooked from cream, sugar, honey and butter, and small spoonfuls of it bubble up again in the oven and spread into thin amber rounds studded with nuts. Once cool they set hard as glass, snapping cleanly before the caramel turns a little chewy. The backs get a thin coat of melted dark chocolate.
Shrimp and squid are cooked only until their surfaces turn white, then left to finish in the simmering tomatoes, where six or seven minutes of gentle heat cooks them through while they stay tender. As the tomato reduces it soaks up the juices the seafood releases.
Under a lid of forked mashed potato, chunks of white fish and peas sit in a creamy white sauce, with cheddar browning on the ridges. The fish only spends a few minutes in the sauce before baking, because it keeps cooking in the oven and breaks into flakes if heated too long beforehand. Adding the milk in several splashes, whisking each time, gives a lump-free sauce that just coats the back of a spoon. Potatoes mashed soft enough to spread but not runny will seal the filling right to the edges. A short rest out of the oven helps each spoonful hold fish and potato together.
Plenty of olive oil coats the pan and pools in the finger dimples. As the bread bakes, the bottom and top almost fry in it, while the wet dough inside stays chewy with big, uneven holes. Rather than long kneading, the dough is lifted and folded during the rise to keep its bubbles. Rosemary and flaky salt are the basic finish, and olives, cherry tomatoes, or thin potato slices pressed into the surface change it up.
With no meat in the layers, water hiding in the mushrooms and spinach makes the difference between clean slices and a soggy lasagna. The mushrooms cook until the pan looks dry, while the spinach is only wilted so it keeps some fresh aroma. Foil stays on for the first 25 minutes to heat the layers evenly, then comes off so the mozzarella can brown.
Deeply browned chuck and the dark bits it leaves in the pot, lifted with red wine, form the backbone of this French braise. A thin dusting of flour rather than a heavy paste helps the surface brown instead of steam. Browning in batches matters too: a crowded pot steams the meat instead of searing it. Potatoes join late, after the beef has had its long simmer, and soften without falling apart. Like most braises, it improves when reheated the next day.
Black olives, rosemary, and thyme go into a dough that is shaped like a leaf and slashed open before baking, so the edges and thin parts crisp while the thicker strips between the cuts stay soft and chewy. The olives are patted dry first. Wet ones loosen the dough and leave the salt bunched in one spot.
Under foil, the tomato sauce steams the pasta through, so every tube needs to be covered or its exposed edges dry out. The filling should be thick enough to hold its shape on a spoon and packed loosely enough that the tubes do not tear.
Thin-sliced beef and melted Swiss cheese go into a baguette, and each bite gets dunked in a bowl of au jus served alongside. Despite the name, the sandwich comes from Los Angeles.
A smooth, glossy top and a ruffled foot around the base are the signs of a well-baked shell. The almond-meringue shells give way from a thin crisp skin to a chewy center, and pairs of them sandwich a buttercream made with melted dark chocolate.
With only two thin sheets of fresh pasta around the ricotta and spinach, whether a raviolo survives the pot comes down to the seal. Pressing the top sheet from around the filling outward pushes trapped air to the edges, and the pasta edges need to stay moist while you work or they will not stick. The thin dough needs only three to four minutes in boiling water; any longer and it turns mushy.