150 recipes. Page 1 of 7
As an Amazon Associate, we may earn from qualifying purchases.
Mashed potato and green peas, seasoned with garam masala, cumin, and chili powder, go inside a stiff dough that has oil rubbed into the flour. A half-round of dough is rolled into a cone, filled, and pressed shut into the triangle that makes a samosa recognizable. They are fried golden and served warm with mint chutney or tamarind sauce.
Cornstarch makes up a large share of the flour in these cookies, which is why they crumble so tenderly before the thick layer of dulce de leche in the middle takes over. Dulce de leche, milk cooked down slowly into caramel, has a strong toffee flavor, so the cookies themselves are kept plain. The sweet traces back to medieval Andalusia, but this round sandwich form took shape in 19th-century Argentina and Uruguay. Pulled from the oven before they color, the rounds stay pale and soft.
Canned corn kernels end up loosely bound in a milk and cream sauce, thick enough to eat with a spoon but neither set like a casserole nor brothy like chowder. Instead of more flour, part of the corn is mashed and stirred back in to thicken it, and the heat comes off while the sauce still flows, since it firms up as it cools.
Leftover rice is kneaded with flour and chopped shiso until it holds together, then shaped into thick patties and pan-fried until golden. This Nagano griddle cake finishes with a quick turn in a sugar and soy glaze, just long enough to leave a thin, glossy sweet-salty coat. Because it starts from cold, firm rice, it is a practical way to use up leftovers.
Cocoa turns the batter dark brown in the mold, and a chocolate custard sits inside. Since the shell is dark from the start, its color says little about whether it is done. A skewer poked into the shell, away from the custard, settles it: no raw batter means it is ready.
Baking soda and vinegar react in the batter and push this thick brown sugar cake high in its cloth-lined colander. In Kagoshima it is also called soda-gashi or fukurakan for that soda rise. It grew out of the Satsuma domain's Edo-period control of sugarcane and brown sugar, and was once eaten at harvest festivals and as a snack during farm work. Warm from the steamer it is fluffy; once cool it turns chewy.
Dough made from flour and glutinous rice flour is stretched by hand into short, flat pieces and dropped straight into the simmering pot. These dago are kept short rather than pulled into long, even noodles so a spoonful can hold them together with burdock, taro and carrot. The broth comes from dried shiitake soaking liquid and dried sardines, seasoned with pale usukuchi soy sauce.
Despite the name, Gyoda furai is never deep-fried. This snack from Gyoda in Saitama is a loose flour batter spread into a 20 cm round on a lightly oiled pan, topped with long onion and thin pork, and pressed down again and again with a pot lid as it cooks. When brown spots appear on the batter it is brushed with Worcestershire-style sauce and eaten hot.
Wheat dough is torn by hand into thin pieces and dropped into the clam broth. Each piece comes out a slightly different thickness, and each one chews a little differently. The clams go in once the dough floats up translucent, the lid goes on, and the stew goes to the table right away, since sujebi swells quickly.
Wide ribbons of hand-stretched dough, slapped against the counter as they lengthen, come to the bowl with chili flakes and garlic piled in the middle. Oil heated to just short of smoking is poured over that pile, cooking the garlic and chili on contact, while soy sauce and vinegar underneath turn it into a sharp, savory dressing. With all-purpose flour, resting does more of the work than kneading, and a strip that shrinks back or tears needs more time under cover, not a harder pull. The broad, thin ribbons get stirred the moment they hit the boiling water, before they can stick to each other.
Without a pasta wrapper, these ricotta and spinach dumplings hold together through moisture control rather than extra flour. Loading the mixture with flour keeps them intact but makes them dense and heavy.
Despite the name, no chicken goes into it: thin, tenderized beef cube steak gets a flour, egg and flour coating and is fried in a deep pan. Without breadcrumbs, the crust forms craggy little ridges, and a peppery milk gravy goes alongside. Thick grilling steaks stay tough while the crust finishes, so the cut matters as much as the frying. Milk gravy stiffens as it stands, and when judged warm it should spread across the plate rather than sit in a mound.
Yeast-raised wheat dough wraps a filling of ground pork, cabbage and scallion seasoned with soy sauce and sesame oil, and the soft, light skin holds in the juices. The pleats at the top do more than shape the bun: they keep those juices from leaking out during steaming.
Shaped into a flat log, baked once, sliced on the diagonal, and baked again at a lower temperature, these Tuscan cookies earn their name, which means twice-cooked. The second bake dries them until they are hard rather than merely crisp, a style long associated with Prato. Whole almonds give each slice a toasty crunch, and lemon zest and vanilla scent the dough. Dunked in espresso or vin santo, the outside softens while the center holds firm.
Baked in a chrysanthemum-shaped mold, the shell comes out with raised petal ridges. It is a winter street snack like bungeoppang, but milk, egg and butter in the batter make it taste more of bread, with a smaller share of red bean paste. Vendors now also fill them with custard cream, chocolate or sweet potato paste.
Cannoli are only worth eating while the fried shells are crisp, so the ricotta filling is piped in from both ends just before serving. Draining the ricotta in a sieve beforehand gives a richer filling, and the ends get a press of dark chocolate chips.
Pressed out with both thumbs as it is torn, each piece of dough ends up thin at the rim and thicker in the middle, chewy and tender in one bite. Potato thickens the broth as it cooks, and with crumbled laver on top the bowl is a whole meal, no rice needed.
Okinawans are said to have made hirayachi on typhoon days, when going out was hard, from flour, egg and garlic chives already in the house. The batter can be loosened with either dashi or plain water. Its name refers to cooking something flat, and the batter is poured in quarters into an 18 cm pan and spread thin.
Thick hand-cut wheat noodles sit in the bowl first, and a stew-like gravy of beef chuck, potato, daikon, bell pepper, and tomato gets ladled over the top. This is the Uzbek kesma style: a firm dough rolled thin and cut with a knife rather than pulled by hand. If the dough keeps shrinking back as it is rolled, the gluten is still tight, and another 10 minutes of rest under a cover fixes it. Cumin seed and ground coriander give the tomato-rich gravy its Central Asian warmth. Because noodles and gravy meet only in the bowl, the chewy strands never soak up the sauce and go soft.
Irregular fresh curds give the light batter edges to grip, and those edges fry into small crisp ridges. Cubes cut from aged cheddar or mozzarella melt differently and will not behave the same way. A short chill in the freezer buys the shell time to set, but it does not make a long fry safe; leave them in too long and the cheese breaks through. The coating cools to the touch well before the molten center does.
This naan rises on yogurt, baking powder and baking soda, so there is no yeast and no proving time before it goes in the pan. You do not need an oven: a heavy skillet, properly hot, still blisters the top and leaves brown spots underneath.
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.
No glaze, no syrup: this chicken leaves the fryer and goes straight to the plate. Bone-in pieces get a thin coat of runny batter made from flour, potato starch, and cold water, fry twice, and drain on a rack. Leftovers crisp up again after 6 to 8 minutes in a 200°C oven.
Strips of flour dough cook straight in grape juice, and the loose flour on their surface slowly turns that juice into a sauce without any separate starch. The thin strip shape follows a publicly available Cherokee Nation cookbook, made here with pasteurized bottled juice. The juice is measured for two jobs: a small portion hydrates the dough and the rest is the cooking liquid, and mixing them early leaves a batter too wet to roll. Swelling alone does not mean done. Cut a thick piece and look for a raw flour layer.