236 recipes. Page 10 of 10
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Skipping the usual long salting, raw napa cabbage goes straight into the chili seasoning and the leaves stay crunchy, cool, and full of juice. Green plum syrup brings a rounded sweetness that fermentation would otherwise supply, softening the salt of the anchovy sauce. Tossing stops as soon as the red paste coats the leaves evenly, because any water left on the cabbage, or too much mixing, thins the seasoning.
Two kinds of heat meet here: the chili burn of doubanjiang, a fermented chili bean paste, and the tingling numbness of ground Sichuan pepper. That numbing quality, called ma in Sichuan cooking, is what separates mapo tofu from other spicy braises. Soft tofu takes on the rusty-red sauce at its edges while the center stays silken, and spooned over steamed rice, the thick sauce runs down between the grains.
Dried lotus leaf has a quiet, soft grassy scent, much gentler than most Western herbal teas, and roasted brown rice fills it out with a toasty grain note. Simmered too long, the tea turns astringent, and too much rice syrup buries the lotus aroma.
Paper-thin slices of ginger are blanched for exactly 30 seconds, long enough to relax the tough fibers and tame the sharp heat. Any longer and the ginger's own fragrance dissolves into the water. Three days of cold storage lets the soy and vinegar soak deep into each slice, turning the raw bite round and mellow, and the thinner the slices are cut along the grain, the sooner that happens. One slice with a spoonful of rice is enough, and beside fatty pork belly or boiled pork it cuts the richness. A hot green chili added to the brine brings a second, brighter kind of heat.
Turned out of its steaming bowl, this Hakka dish lands as neat rows of soy-darkened pork belly sitting on a bed of preserved mustard greens, with the juices poured back over the top. Over an hour of steaming, the salt and fermented tang of the greens works its way into the pork.
Sseumbagwi, a sharply bitter spring herb, soaks in cold water for 20 minutes before it ever meets the seasoning. Some bitterness is meant to remain: after a first ferment at room temperature and a stretch of refrigeration, savory and sour notes build over it, and the balance is best around day three. Sand lance fish sauce is milder than the anchovy sauce used for cabbage kimchi, so it leaves the herb's character intact, while sweet rice paste helps the dressing cling to thin stems.
The cabbage mixed into the ground pork gives off its water, keeping the filling juicy inside the fluffy steamed dough. The filling is seasoned with ginger, soy sauce, and sesame oil, and a little sugar makes the dough faintly sweet.
Blanched taro stalks (zuiki) turn bright and keep a light crunch at the center when they are slipped straight into sweet vinegar. In Niigata this is a summer side dish, made from the leaf stalks of yatsugashira taro harvested from June to September. Both the outer skin and the stringy fibers come off first, and the stalks are weighted under water while soaking so none float. The temperatures run the opposite way from a hot-brine pickle: the brine is cooled ahead of time, while the zuiki is added hot from the pot, which sets the color and texture. Overcooking breaks the fibers down, so they come out as soon as they bend without snapping, and a little grated ginger is spooned on top when served cold.
Okara, the soybean pulp left from making tofu, stands in for rice in this sushi from Kochi, cooked with ginger, sugar, soy sauce, and vinegar until sweet and tart. Under a small vinegar-cured kibinago draped over each ball, the filling crumbles softly while the fish adds salt and a firm bite. The name hokaburi compares the fish to a cloth pulled over someone's head and cheeks. It belongs to the tamazushi family of rice-saving sushi and is tied especially to Sukumo, where Sukumo Bay once yielded large kibinago catches.
The broth stays clear because garlic and ginger are wrapped in cheesecloth and squeezed in cold water for their aroma alone, leaving no solids floating around. Young radish greens (yeolmu) are salted just until they slump slightly, so the stems keep some snap, and thin slices of radish let the broth pick up flavor quickly. Ginger is the one ingredient to hold back on: too much, or left steeping too long, turns the broth bitter. Filtered cold water gives the cleanest taste, since nothing is boiled.
Paneer, an Indian cheese that holds its shape instead of melting, sits in cubes in a bright green spinach sauce and chews a little like firm tofu. For this North Indian vegetarian curry the spinach is blanched for only a minute before blending and simmered briefly, which keeps the green vivid.
Goan vindaloo is a pork curry where the sourness of vinegar comes through as clearly as the heat. Pork shoulder sits in a paste of white vinegar ground with garlic, ginger, chili and cumin, then braises with browned onion until that paste has thickened onto the meat.
The sea bass is steamed whole and comes to the table head to tail on one plate, and you pull the flakes away with chopsticks. The soy and sugar sauce is poured on lightly enough that the fish still tastes of itself, and smoking oil goes over a pile of shredded scallion at the end.
Mackerel fillets simmer skin-side up under a glossy glaze of miso, mirin, sake, and sugar, a staple of Japanese home cooking. Pouring boiling water over the fish first takes away surface odor, and thin slices of ginger in the pan deal with the rest.
Three Cup Chicken, as the Taiwanese name goes, comes from equal measures of soy sauce, sesame oil, and rice wine; here each is 3 tablespoons rather than a cup. Thai basil goes in just before the heat goes off, and its fresh scent rising over the dark soy turns it into something quite different from plain soy-braised chicken.
Chicken thighs are pressed skin side down with a spatula until the skin turns deep gold, then glazed over low heat with soy sauce, mirin, sake, and sugar, plus garlic and ginger, spooned over until it clings.
Ground chicken is pressed and broken up in the pan, joined by fine shreds of ginger, then cooked down in soy sauce, mirin, and sugar. Turn off the heat while a thin film of liquid still coats the pan, and every crumb carries a dark glaze while the meat stays moist. Spread over rice, it becomes a soboro bowl.
A Shanghai soup dumpling holds both a pork filling and a mouthful of hot broth inside its thin wrapper. The broth begins as pork stock jelly, chopped and folded into the filling, which melts as the dumplings steam. Set one on a spoon, nick the skin, and drink the broth before dipping the rest in black vinegar with slivered ginger.
Made with a knife and no heat at all, this summer side from the Murayama and Okitama areas of Yamagata went onto rice by the spoonful during the hot farming season. The eggplant and cucumber are chopped small, and the myoga, ginger, shiso, long onion, and green chili finer still. Bonito flakes and dashi soy sauce go on just before it is served.
A spoonful of yuzu marmalade goes into the soy marinade, so when you bite through the crust the chicken underneath tastes faintly sweet and of yuzu.