779 recipes. Page 30 of 33
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Chicken thigh and onion simmer in nothing more than water, soy sauce and mirin, with no dashi. The eggs are beaten only lightly, so streaks of white remain, and poured in two goes: the first half sets around the edges, the second stays soft and barely trembling, and the topping ends up marbled yellow and white. A little broth is left in the pan to soak into the rice underneath.
Kongbul, short for kongnamul bulgogi, piles soybean sprouts onto spicy gochujang pork so every bite of meat comes with a crunch. The sprouts only get about a minute over high heat, so the pork sauce has to be reduced to a thick glaze before they go in, or the water they release leaves everything soupy. It is served spooned over rice.
No meat and no anchovy go into this stew, only vegetable stock. To give the broth some aroma, the onion and oyster mushrooms are fried in sesame oil first. The lotus root cooks just until a chopstick slides in, and the perilla powder goes in at the very end for a brief warm-through over low heat. Boiled for long, perilla turns chalky rather than nutty.
Pork belly and big chunks of radish braise together in soy sauce, and by the end the radish has absorbed as much of the rich, salty liquid as the meat. The belly is blanched briefly and rinsed first; skip that and the surface impurities and porky smell end up in the sauce. The radish is cut large because small pieces fall apart over the long simmer. Covered at first and then uncovered, the pot moves from gentle braising to reducing, which leaves the pork and radish coated in a glossy soy glaze rather than sitting in thin broth. It holds up well when made ahead, because cooling and rewarming drive the seasoning in further.
Frozen potato nuggets sit in a single layer over a thick beef, pea and mushroom-soup filling, browning on top while their undersides soak up sauce. Stirring them into the filling, or stacking two layers, leaves the whole thing soft. The beef is fully cooked before assembly so the oven is not trying to evaporate raw meat juices beneath the potatoes. The cheese stays light and goes on near the end, leaving most of the potato crust exposed.
Twelve chard leaves are rolled finger-thick around ground beef, soaked rice, onion and dried mint. The rolls are packed tightly into the pot, weighed down with a heavy plate, and cooked slowly in a thin tomato broth. In Turkey they come to the table with a tangy garlic yogurt.
At Sri Lankan street stalls, kottu is made by chopping roti on a griddle with two metal blades, clattering away; at home a knife and a single pan do the job. The bread soaks up curry powder and soy sauce among cabbage, carrot and egg, and only its edges turn a little crisp.
Beef shank carries a lot of connective tissue that stays tough after a quick cook but lets the meat pull apart along the grain after a long, low simmer. As the braise cools, gelatin from the shank sets the sauce, and warming it again melts it back into a glossy, slightly thick glaze.
Potatoes cooked slowly in plenty of olive oil turn creamy and soft, while the same slices fried over high heat scorch outside and stay hard in the middle. That gentle start gives a Spanish tortilla its thick, tender layers once the eggs are added. The nerve-racking part is the flip: a plate goes over the pan and the half-set omelette turns out in one motion before sliding back in. Both sides end up golden, with a moist center.
In this Indian breakfast dish the flattened rice never boils. A quick rinse in cold water and a short rest soften it enough to press between two fingers, and a brief toss in oil scented with mustard seed and turmeric warms it through. Roasted peanuts go into the yellow flakes, and a squeeze of lemon follows once the heat is off.
Take the garlic scapes off the heat while they are still bright green and they stay crisp to the core; longer than that, the color dulls and they turn tough. For anyone who eats less heat, hold back some of the gochujang sauce and add it bit by bit, tasting as you go.
Dried radish greens (siraegi) stay chewy through the braise and soak up the gochujang and soy sauce, so here they are as good with rice as the hairtail itself. The greens are tossed with a little doenjang beforehand, which leaves a nutty, savory note under the braise.
Out of the oven, the cheddar on top bubbles and browns over egg noodles, tuna, and mushrooms bound in a creamy sauce. The noodles are boiled 1 minute short of the package time, because they keep softening as they absorb sauce in the oven; fully cooked noodles turn mushy.
Rajma means kidney beans and chawal means rice, and that is the whole idea: a thick tomato and bean curry ladled generously over rice and eaten together. Onions cooked slowly until their edges brown give the sauce its body without any cream.
Bacon cooked slowly over low heat gives up smoky fat, and that fat becomes the base for stir-frying the garlic scapes, with little or no extra oil needed. Since bacon is already salty, the soy sauce is scaled back to taste, and a spoonful of syrup leaves a thin glossy coat that balances the salt with sweetness.
Oily mackerel and earthy dried radish greens cook down together, the fish fat seeping into the greens while the greens soften the strong flavor of the fish. Radish on the bottom of the pot grows sweeter the longer it braises and takes the edge off both the chili heat and any fishiness. The sauce is left slightly loose, enough to spoon over a bowl of rice.
Escarole's broad leaves and mildly bitter edge hold up to a brief blanch, so this dish keeps a leafy bite rather than the long-cooked softness of collards. Squeezing the blanched greens hard matters, because any water left behind turns the breadcrumbs into paste. Part of the crumb mixture goes among the leaves to soak up stray juices, and the rest stays on top to brown with the Pecorino. Prosciutto, cheese and vinegar-packed cherry peppers all bring salt and acidity, so extra salt waits until the greens have been tasted.
Mashing some of the beans is all it takes to thicken the pot, and spooned over separately cooked rice, it seeps between the grains like a sauce. This version uses canned beans that are already fully cooked.
Seaweed stems are thick and springy and crunch audibly when you bite them. Salted stems vary a lot by brand, so after soaking, taste one strand and rinse again in fresh water if it is still too salty.
Firm tofu is soaked briefly in salted water, then pan-fried until golden with firm edges that let the slices keep their corners through the spicy braise. Onion and green onion cook on top of the tofu and add sweetness to a sauce of soy sauce, gochugaru and a little sugar. The heat goes off while some sauce still pools at the bottom of the pan, enough to spoon over the tofu and a bowl of rice.
Chilled, thinly sliced veal disappears under a cold sauce of tuna, capers, and anchovy blended smooth with mayonnaise and lemon. The meat is gently cooked in white wine over a bed of onion, then cooled completely so it slices thin without tearing. That cooking liquid is saved to loosen the sauce until it flows slowly off a spoon. Capers and anchovy bring the salt and acidity that the mild veal lacks, and a few extra capers are scattered on top before it is served cold.
Warm stock steeped with saffron goes in a ladle at a time, turning the rice yellow as it cooks. Off the heat, cold butter and Parmigiano are beaten in quickly, and the risotto is done while it is still loose enough to spread slowly on the plate.
Where most seaweed stem stir-fries finish with sesame oil, this one is cooked in perilla oil and coated in plenty of ground perilla seed, which pushes the nutty flavor right to the front. The salted stems soak in cold water for at least 15 minutes to draw out salt, but leave them much longer and the taste of the sea goes too.
Taro stems are long and fibrous, and in this dish they soak up a creamy perilla-seed broth between their strands, bending softly when you bite and releasing that nutty liquid. With only soup soy sauce for seasoning and onion and garlic softened in perilla oil for a gentle sweetness, the dish ends up mild rather than spicy or salty. The sauce is thick enough to coat a spoon and sits well over rice.