253 American recipes. Page 1 of 11. Compare ingredients and cooking times. Chop Suey, Anadama Bread, Boston Baked Beans.
There are no noodles in this high-heat stir-fry of chicken breast, bok choy, carrot, mushrooms, and bean sprouts; it sits beside rice, with a light brown sauce that coats rather than pools. The carrot is cut thinner than the softer vegetables so everything finishes at once while the bok choy stems keep their crunch.
Cornmeal and molasses give this yeast loaf a faintly gritty crumb, and unlike quick cornbread it is kneaded and risen twice. Because molasses colors the crust before the inside is done, an internal temperature of 88°C tells you more than the color.
Pinto beans come out of a long, slow bake glazed in molasses, mustard and bacon, the sauce about as loose as thin syrup. Between the overnight soak, a first simmer on the stove and 4 hours 30 minutes to 5 hours in a covered pot in the oven, this is a start-in-the-morning dish. Hot water goes in a little at a time whenever the liquid runs low.
Rice, sautéed onion and carrot, chicken stock and cream all go into one baking dish, with chicken thighs laid skin side up on top. As they roast, their fat drips down into the rice. The foil has to be crimped tight; if steam escapes, the rice in the center stays hard.
Vanilla wafers start out crisp and, after a night in the fridge, turn soft and cakey from the custard around them. That change is the point of this Southern American layered dessert, which needs only a saucepan for the custard and no oven at all. The bananas need to be fully ripe; underripe ones leave an astringent edge against the sweet cream.
Eggs, sugar and half the milk are stirred over low heat until they reach at least 71°C, and once the pot is off the heat the rest of the cold milk goes in to start cooling it down. There is no alcohol in it. After an ice bath it still needs three hours or more in the fridge; start several hours before you want to pour it.
Nothing goes into the rub but coarse salt and coarse black pepper, and long oak smoke does the rest, building the dark crust Texans call bark while the collagen inside softens until slices give way along the grain. With seasoning this simple, the result depends on the meat rather than the clock: if the probe still meets resistance at the target temperature, it keeps cooking. In Texas, slices go out with white bread and pickles.
The potatoes are baked whole in their skins, not boiled, and the flesh is scooped out and mashed into the soup, keeping the toasty taste of a baked potato. Some of the crisp bacon and cheddar is held back to go on top of each bowl with sliced scallions.
Stone-ground white cornmeal and milk, with no wheat flour, egg or baking powder, make these thin Newport-style cakes with lacy, browned edges. The formula comes from a Rhode Island grist mill, and the result has little in common with fluffy breakfast pancakes or oven-baked cornbread. Cornmeal sinks in the loose batter, and without a stir before every spoonful the last cakes come out thicker than the first.
Shredded chicken and pork, corn and butter beans cook down together in a tomato broth until the stew turns thick. Unlike gumbo, it has no long-cooked flour roux, and small cubes of potato break down to do the thickening while the corn keeps some pop. The recipe assumes fully cooked, unsauced meat: raw meat cannot simply be swapped in for the same time, and barbecue-sauced leftovers would throw off the sweetness and salt. Vinegar goes in at the very end to brighten the tomato.
A whole cured brisket simmers for hours in plain water, and potatoes, carrots, turnips and cabbage join only for the last stretch. Buy raw corned beef meant for cooking, not canned meat or deli slices. Because curing keeps the meat pink even when done, color tells you nothing, and reaching the safe temperature does not mean the connective tissue has softened. The brisket is ready when a fork slides in easily. No salt or stock goes into the pot, because the beef seasons its own water, and brands differ enough that the broth needs tasting before it reaches the table.
Baked ziti borrows the meat sauce, ricotta, and mozzarella of lasagna but skips the layering: the tube-shaped pasta is simply tossed and spread in the dish, which cuts the work considerably. Only half the sauce and half the ricotta go into the pasta; the rest sits on top under the cheese, keeping the inside moist. The ziti come out of the water two minutes early because they keep cooking in the oven. Once the mozzarella and Parmesan bubble gold, a 5-minute rest lets portions cut cleanly.
Chicken breast rubbed with smoked paprika and seared over medium-high heat brings a smoky, warm counterpoint to cold, crisp romaine. Despite the blackened name, this version skips the usual cayenne and dried herb blend and relies on smoked paprika alone. The Caesar-style dressing is a quick mix of mayonnaise, lemon, Dijon and garlic with no anchovy, while croutons and shaved Parmesan supply crunch and salt.
Rather than cubes of beef stewed for hours, this pot holds ground beef, tomatoes and dry elbow macaroni that cook together in the same sauce. The pasta drinks up the seasoned liquid as it softens, and its starch turns the sauce from loose to spoonable. A broad pan evaporates faster than a narrow one, so the reserved water stays nearby rather than going in at the start. A splash of water revives leftovers better than more tomato paste, since the macaroni keeps absorbing sauce after it is made.
Thin wonton skins fried until they shatter at the edges hold a hot, molten filling of cream cheese and crab, the way American Chinese restaurants serve them as an appetizer. This version uses drained canned crabmeat rather than imitation crab sticks, and block cream cheese instead of a soft spread, since a looser filling tends to leak into the oil.
No butter, no oil, no yolks: this tall white ring cake rises entirely on whipped egg whites folded with cake flour and sugar. It likely appeared in late 19th-century America as a way to use whites left over from custard making. The top has a slight marshmallow chew over a cloud-light crumb. The pan goes upside down the moment it leaves the oven, because cooling right side up lets the delicate foam sink under its own weight. Fresh berries and whipped cream are the traditional companions.
All the tang and heat of Buffalo wings, minus the bones: shredded cooked chicken baked with cream cheese, cayenne hot sauce, ranch and blue cheese until hot through. With the chicken already cooked, the oven only has to bring the center to 74°C, and raw chicken does not belong in this timing.
The dirty in the name comes from finely chopped chicken liver and pork, which stain the rice brown. It is a Cajun dish from Louisiana, built on the usual onion, green pepper and celery, with cayenne for heat.
Two raw banana halves frame three scoops set side by side, so every spoonful offers a different flavor rather than one blended mix. Sauces should be at room temperature or colder, because a hot topping would melt a channel through the scoops before the bowl reaches the table.
Espresso poured slowly over the back of a spoon floats on cold tonic, leaving a clear, fizzy layer below and a dark coffee layer above. The quinine bitterness in the tonic meets the bitterness of the coffee, and a little syrup plus orange and lemon peel keep the finish bright.
With a long rib bone attached and a thick eye of meat, a tomahawk steak cannot be cooked through by a hard sear alone, so it comes out of the fridge an hour ahead to let the chill leave even the meat near the bone. After the crust forms, the heat drops and butter with rosemary and garlic is spooned over continuously; for medium, it comes off at an internal 54 degrees.
Barley soaks up the stock as it swells, and the whole soup turns thick and hearty. The grains grow to two or three times their size while cooking and keep drinking liquid into the next day. Leftovers need a splash of extra stock when reheated.
Matzo, the unleavened flatbread, is moistened briefly, broken up and cooked with eggs in a buttered pan. Rather than a thick slice soaked in custard as with French toast, you get small pieces of matzo with soft egg clinging between them, and this version is savory, with no sugar or syrup. It calls for plain matzo, not salted snack crackers, wetted only until it bends enough to snap without falling apart in the water.
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.