278 recipes. Page 5 of 12
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Like risotto, orzo stirred through vegetable stock turns creamy and spoonable, all in one pot. The clams are added near the end and open right in the pot, letting their briny juice mix with doenjang, the Korean fermented soybean paste that seasons it all.
Sweet yuja citron syrup, balanced with soy sauce and a little garlic, turns plain chicken breast into something bright. Gently poached chicken breast, rested off the heat and torn along the grain, soaks up that dressing between its fibers instead of turning dry. Chamnamul, a slightly bitter Korean herb, keeps the citrus sweetness from tipping the salad toward dessert.
Chicken thigh strips soaked briefly in lime and paprika hit a smoking-hot pan and pick up charred edges within minutes. If the pan is not hot enough, the chicken releases liquid and steams instead, so it should sizzle the moment it lands.
Chuck flap is so well marbled that coarse salt, pepper and a quick, hard sear are all it takes, and it stays juicy. While the steak rests, asparagus goes into the same pan and picks up the beef fat and butter left behind.
There is no cream here and no added salt; the butter sauce is seasoned with doenjang, a Korean fermented soybean paste, and Parmesan. Most of the flavor comes from button mushrooms left alone in the pan until their edges brown.
Soft lentils soak right up a thick, savory dressing of doenjang (Korean fermented soybean paste), Dijon mustard, and cider vinegar. Broccolini, halved lengthwise and charred at the edges, and coarsely chopped walnuts give the bowl its crunch. It holds well cold or at room temperature, so it is easy to prepare ahead.
Instead of breadcrumbs, these cutlets wear a soft coat of flour and beaten egg, and that coating soaks up the lemon butter sauce like a sponge. Italian-American in origin, the dish uses butterflied chicken breast cooked quickly so it stays moist. The coating should come out golden rather than dark brown before it goes back into the sauce to turn glossy.
The thin coat of olive oil over the salted tenderloin is there to keep the coarse salt from falling off into the pan. Tenderloin is lean, so it gets basted at the end with butter infused with garlic and rosemary, and the lemon is squeezed over sparingly, right before eating.
Duck legs braise on the bone for 90 minutes and are then pulled into shreds, which gives a coarser, meatier texture than a ground-meat ragu. The flavor starts with the sear: left alone in the pan rather than nudged around, the skin turns deep brown, and the red wine later dissolves that browned layer into the sauce. Wide pappardelle is the right shape to hold those strands. The ragu tastes deeper after a night in the fridge, which makes it easy to cook a day ahead and boil only the pasta on the day you serve it.
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.
Thin chicken cutlets in a Parmesan-laced crumb crust are shallow-fried in olive oil and finished with a squeeze of lemon while still hot. An even thickness matters, because a thick spot stays underdone in the middle while the crust overbrowns.
Big chunks of pork belly and neck are fixed on a long metal spit and turned for hours over charcoal. A marinade of orange juice, coriander seed, oregano and rosemary gives the pork a citrus and herb aroma. It needs an outdoor rotisserie grill and a spit with securing forks; small wooden skewers in a pan do not reproduce it. Wind, the amount of charcoal and the size of the chunks can push the cook past three hours, and the fire should be lit with plenty of time in hand.
Short noodles take the place of rice in this Spanish pan dish, a close cousin of paella. Toasting them in oil until the tips turn golden gives a nutty note, and leaving the pan mostly unstirred after the stock goes in lets a thin crust form underneath. The shrimp and squid are only seared at first and go back on top near the end, so they stay tender. Serve with aioli if you have some.
Charred until deep brown, Korean daepa (a thick green onion similar to a leek) loses its sharp bite and turns soft and sweet inside. With tender potatoes and a dressing of doenjang, lemon juice, and honey, it makes a salty, earthy potato salad with no mayonnaise in sight.
The crumb coating has to survive a second round of heat, since the crisp cutlet is covered with tomato sauce and mozzarella and returned to the oven. Resting the breaded cutlets for 5 minutes lets the crumbs bond to the meat and keeps them from sliding off under the sauce. Pounding the breast to 1.5 cm or less matters for a similar reason: an even cutlet browns on both sides before either one burns. Cut through it and you get crunch, juicy chicken, tangy sauce, and stretchy cheese in one bite.
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.
Crumbled gamtae, a fine Korean seaweed, gives a butter and lemon sauce the smell of the sea. Scallops are seared hard one side at a time and set aside, then white wine lifts the browned bits they leave in the pan into the sauce. The scallops never simmer; they go back on top of the noodles at the end.
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.
Cherry tomatoes burst as they cook, and their juice mixes with salty black olives, capers, and thyme into a bright southern French sauce. Skin-on thighs are essential: searing the skin over high heat until deep golden gives both crisp texture and the browned layer in the pan that white wine later dissolves into the sauce. The finished sauce is reduced just enough to coat a spoon thinly and cling to the chicken rather than run off.
Eight minutes in a hot oven is all this dish gets, just long enough for the mozzarella to melt and stretch over tomato-coated gnocchi. Because of that short bake, the gnocchi come out of the water the moment they float. Extra time in the pot would leave them soft and swollen after baking. Half the basil goes into the sauce and half on top after baking.
Chia seeds soaked in lemon juice and water swell into soft, jelly-coated beads that pop gently through a yuja citrus dressing. Silken tofu gets no seasoning of its own and relies on the dressing's tangy sweetness and touch of soy, which means each spoonful should hold both tofu and dressing. Left in the fridge for about 30 minutes after mixing, the chia dressing turns noticeably chewier.
Spread all the way to the edge, the cheese melts into a glue that holds the two tortillas together and lets the wedges cut cleanly with the filling in place. Sharp cheddar brings flavor while mozzarella brings stretch, wrapped around paprika-seasoned chicken thigh, onion, and bell pepper. To protect the crunch, the vegetables are cooked only until the pan bottom looks fairly dry, as moisture from the filling is what usually ruins it. Cut into 8 wedges and serve warm with sour cream or salsa.
Anchovy fillets melt into garlicky olive oil until they disappear, leaving salt and savor with no fishy edge, and gochugaru, Korean chili flakes, adds a warm heat to that oil. Broccolini cooks in the pasta pot during the last minutes so it stays crisp and slightly bitter, and pan-toasted breadcrumbs give the soft, ear-shaped orecchiette something crunchy to play against. The crumbs are kept aside and scattered on just before serving so they stay crisp.
A dressing of nothing more than lime juice and olive oil cuts cleanly through creamy avocado. Golden pan-seared chicken breast supplies lean substance, romaine and cucumber bring crunch against the soft avocado, and cherry tomatoes add a sharp, juicy note. Sliced hot, the chicken loses its juices to the cutting board and turns dry, and a rest on a plate before cutting prevents that. Avocado works the other way: it browns as it sits and is sliced only just before the dressing goes on. The result is a simple American-style salad that eats as a full meal, and lemon stands in well when there is no lime.