721 recipes. Page 5 of 31
Pasta, steak, and other Western recipes
With no cooking involved, the whole dish rests on ripe tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and basil-scented olive oil. Slices of red, white, and green overlap on a wide plate, and a thin thread of balsamic glaze adds sweet acidity without pooling in one spot. Salting too early draws water from the tomatoes and floods the plate, which is why seasoning waits until just before serving.
Browned pork sausages sit on buttery mashed potatoes under an onion gravy, a fixture of British pub menus and home kitchens alike. The gravy's sweetness comes from onions cooked slowly over low heat until golden, without letting them burn, in the fat left from the sausages.
With baking soda doing the lifting, the batter goes into the pan as soon as it is mixed, with no rise to wait for. Three mashed bananas supply most of the moisture and sweetness, with melted butter and an egg making the crumb dense and tender. Baking it a day ahead costs nothing: the banana flavor gets stronger overnight and the loaf stays moist once cool. Walnuts or chocolate chips can be folded in for texture.
The rice takes seafood stock a ladle at a time, and saffron soaked in a couple of spoonfuls of that stock goes in partway through to turn it yellow. Shrimp and squid wait until the rice is nearly done and come off the heat before they curl up tight.
A spoonful holds its shape, then collapses into almost nothing on the tongue, leaving a strong dark chocolate taste. Without beaten egg whites, the air comes only from yolks whisked with sugar and from whipped cream, so it is a touch richer and denser than a meringue-based mousse. The higher the cacao percentage, the more bitter and intense it gets.
A white, milk-based chowder with small cubes of potato and pieces of clam in every spoonful. Celery, softened with the onion, adds a faint bitterness that keeps the milk from being the only thing you taste.
Cajun seasoning, a Louisiana Creole blend of paprika, cayenne, oregano, thyme, and garlic and onion powders, gives this cream pasta a smoky, moderate heat. Half of it coats the shrimp and the other half seasons the sauce, spreading the spice evenly. The butter and spiced fat left after searing the shrimp become the base for the onion, garlic, and bell pepper, and a mix of cream and milk keeps the sauce lighter than cream alone. The shrimp leave the pan as soon as they turn pink and only return on top at the end, which keeps them snappy.
Celeriac looks like a gnarled root, yet its pale flesh smells gently of celery and stays crisp when cut raw into fine matchsticks. Bound with mayonnaise and Dijon mustard, the French remoulade resembles coleslaw at a glance, but the mustard's sharp tang sits further forward.
Ribs rubbed with paprika, brown sugar and garlic powder cook low and slow sealed in foil, then get a thick coat of barbecue sauce and a hot finish until sticky and dark. Peeling off the thin membrane on the bone side matters: left on, it turns chewy and blocks the rub. The meat is ready for saucing when it has shrunk back enough to slip a fingertip between bone and meat. An overnight rest in the rub seasons the meat all the way through, so starting the day before pays off.
The coarsely chopped walnuts are toasted in a pan before they go in, so they come through as distinct nutty pieces in the moist banana crumb. Only half a teaspoon of cinnamon is used, not enough to cover the banana.
Peppers turn sweet and soft in the oven, which is why the beef, rice and tomato filling is seasoned a little saltier than would taste right on its own. Mozzarella goes on for the last 10 minutes and melts into a cover over the filling.
Piped through a star tip, the dough comes out deeply ridged, which gives the oil more surface to work on and crisps the whole outside evenly. The churros are rolled in cinnamon sugar straight from the fryer, sometimes with a quick sauce of dark chocolate melted with an equal amount of cream. After about ten minutes the oil seeps inward and the crunch fades fast.
Half the soup is blended and stirred back in, so the broth thickens while whole corn kernels and pieces of potato stay intact. The onion and garlic cook in the fat left from crisping the bacon, and the bacon itself returns at the end, scattered over each bowl with parsley.
Egg yolks, Parmesan, and starchy pasta water come together on hot spaghetti into a sauce that tastes creamy without any cream. Temperature decides everything: the egg mixture is poured on only after the pan has dropped below 85 to 90 degrees, since a hotter pan scrambles the yolks and a pan that cools too far lets the sauce break. The bacon renders slowly over medium-low heat for 8 to 10 minutes, and its fat coats the pasta first, with the burner already off. The sauce keeps tightening as it cools, so carbonara goes to the table the moment it is plated.
A gochujang dressing sweetened with maple syrup gives bulgur, the cracked wheat of Middle Eastern tabbouleh, a Korean turn. Corn charred in a dry pan until spotted brown adds concentrated sweetness to soften the chili heat, while cucumber and cherry tomatoes keep it fresh. The grains keep absorbing the dressing as they sit, so leftovers taste even fuller the next day.
Most of the sauce's color and depth is decided when the beef browns in bacon fat, before any wine is added. Crowding the pot drops the temperature and steams the meat, so it browns in two or three batches; a thin, well-shaken dusting of flour keeps the sauce from turning cloudy.
No crust goes into the pan, only a tall collar of parchment, and the batter bakes at 230°C until the top turns deep brown with a bitter caramel smell. After four hours or more in the fridge the cake is firm, and a while at room temperature before serving brings the center back to soft and creamy.
As the rolls cook slowly over low heat, the cabbage gives up its sweetness and softens the sharpness of the tomato sauce. Pack them tightly into the pot so they hold together while they simmer.
In Europe it is common to have churros dipped in chocolate sauce for breakfast. Here the sauce is dark chocolate and milk in equal amounts, melted over a double boiler until it coats a spoon. Out of the oil, the star-shaped ridges split and crisp, while escaping steam leaves the center a little hollow and chewy.
The mushrooms are wiped clean with a paper towel rather than rinsed. Wet slices release water in the pan and struggle to brown, and that deep browning is where most of the soup's flavor comes from.
Thin-sliced beef brisket, chadol in Korean, browns at the edges in its own fat in a dry, very hot pan, and that fat is poured off so the sauce tastes mainly of cream and milk. Perilla leaves, a fragrant herb common in Korean cooking, are folded in only once the burner is off, and their herbal note lightens the cream and the fatty beef.
Ham, turkey, cheddar, hard-boiled eggs, and cherry tomatoes go onto a bed of romaine in neat, separate rows, enough protein to make the chef salad an American main course rather than a side. The honey mustard dressing waits on the side, so the lettuce stays crisp to the last bite.
Loosely formed patties hit a smoking-hot pan and are left alone to build a brown crust, with no pressing. Overworking the ground beef makes a dense, tight patty, and a shallow dent in the center stops it from doming as it cooks. The patty is ready to flip once the edges have browned and set and juices bead on top. Pickles, lettuce and tomato cut through the melted cheddar and rich beef inside a soft brioche bun.
The batch makes 12 small half-moon pastries, each one sized for a single hand. The filling is ground beef cooked with onion and sweet pepper and seasoned with tomato paste and cumin. Spooning off the leftover fat and letting the filling cool completely keeps the inside of the baked pastry from turning greasy or weak.