162 recipes. Page 5 of 7
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Wait until the clams are cooked to check the seasoning. As they open they release briny liquid into the broth, and a broth salted to taste with doenjang alone can end up too salty. Throw out any clams that stay shut.
Giving the potatoes a 5-minute head start in plain water lines up their timing with the beltfish, and the starch they release thickens the sauce. Since beltfish breaks apart if handled often, the broth is ladled over rather than the pieces moved, and the reduced sauce is spooned onto rice with the fish.
Torn dough flakes and knife-cut noodles share one bowl, so soft, silky sujebi alternates with springy noodles in every spoonful. To judge doneness, bite into a flake: once the raw-flour taste is gone and the noodles still have bounce, serve right away.
Under a lid of forked mashed potato, chunks of white fish and peas sit in a creamy white sauce, with cheddar browning on the ridges. The fish only spends a few minutes in the sauce before baking, because it keeps cooking in the oven and breaks into flakes if heated too long beforehand. Adding the milk in several splashes, whisking each time, gives a lump-free sauce that just coats the back of a spoon. Potatoes mashed soft enough to spread but not runny will seal the filling right to the edges. A short rest out of the oven helps each spoonful hold fish and potato together.
Thin slices of beef, potatoes, onion, carrot, and shirataki noodles simmer in dashi sweetened with mirin and sugar and seasoned with soy sauce, a combination many Japanese people tie to home cooking. One story traces it to a Meiji-era naval officer trying to recreate British beef stew with Japanese ingredients, which would explain why the result is a clear soy braise rather than a thick, flour-bound stew.
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.
As the clams open they release their briny liquor into the rice-water doenjang broth, and the zucchini stew tastes cleaner and brighter for it. Give the clams about an hour to purge their sand.
In Jeju, galchi-jorim is made with plenty of liquid, close to a stew, and rice gets mixed into whatever sauce is left. Potato goes under the fish along with the radish, another Jeju habit, and its starch gives the sauce some body.
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.
Deeply browned chuck and the dark bits it leaves in the pot, lifted with red wine, form the backbone of this French braise. A thin dusting of flour rather than a heavy paste helps the surface brown instead of steam. Browning in batches matters too: a crowded pot steams the meat instead of searing it. Potatoes join late, after the beef has had its long simmer, and soften without falling apart. Like most braises, it improves when reheated the next day.
A hollow puri shell gets a little potato and chickpea, then a pour of cold pani blended from mint, cilantro and tamarind, and the whole thing goes into your mouth in one bite before it can break. The shell starts going soft as soon as the pani hits it, so each one is filled only when someone is ready to eat it.
Three potatoes, anchovy stock and a spoonful of doenjang are all it takes, which makes it a standby when the fridge is running low. Starch from the potatoes thickens the soybean-paste broth slightly as they cook.
No doenjang or gochujang here; salted shrimp does the seasoning. Its saltiness varies by jar, which is why only one tablespoon goes in at first and the remaining half is added at the end to taste. The base is rice-rinsing water with potato boiled in it for eight minutes, and chili flakes and cheongyang pepper turn it red and sharp.
The square fish cake sheets (eomuk) are cut into triangles small enough to pick up together with a cube of potato. The fish cake goes in only when the potatoes are half done; any earlier and it turns soggy.
Starch from sliced potato simmered first gives the broth its base body, leaving the perilla seed powder added near the end only to finish it. The result is a light, nutty soup that clings thinly to the noodles. Fresh kalguksu noodles go straight into the pot, and stirring right away is the main guard against a clumped, stuck mass.
Paprika turns the broth brick red and caraway adds a quiet, earthy note to this Hungarian beef and potato stew. The quality of the paprika largely decides the flavor, and so does its timing: the heat comes down before it is added, as it scorches and turns bitter quickly. Onions browned slowly at the start give the sweetness that rounds it out.
At Mumbai street stalls, potatoes, cauliflower, and green peas are mashed and cooked down with tomato and pav bhaji masala, then scooped up with soft rolls toasted in butter. It is less a curry than a spread, thick enough to pile onto bread. The rolls are toasted only on the cut sides, soft outside with a crisp, buttery face.
Doenjang and chili flakes go in together, turning the pork bone broth red but earthy, and the spine, halved potatoes and dried cabbage greens cook down in it. Two tablespoons of ground perilla seed go in near the end, and leaving them out changes the stew a great deal.
The soft tofu slowly comes apart in the broth until the whole pot is silky, with crisp bits of young cabbage stem in between. Only a touch of gochujang goes into the doenjang, so it tastes savory more than spicy.
Despite the name, gamja-jjim is not steamed: potato cubes simmer in soy sauce, sugar and garlic until almost no liquid is left and a glossy film coats each piece. Cubes cut to one size take the seasoning to the center at the same pace, and no piece ends up bland inside. Scallions and a little sesame oil finish it with a fresh, nutty note.
Cut almost all the way through and roasted, these potatoes fan open in the oven: thin, chip-crisp edges outside, soft flesh in the center. Laying chopsticks on either side of each potato stops the knife before it slices through the base.
In Hokkaido, where potatoes were plentiful and glutinous rice was not, potatoes took the place of rice to give this snack, also called imodango, its mochi-like chew. Browned slowly in butter, each thick round turns golden and crisp outside while the center stays dense and stretchy. A sauce of ground perilla seeds and white sesame with sugar and soy sauce adds a nutty, sweet-salty finish.
A generous amount of ground perilla seed turns this gamjatang (pork spine and potato stew) pale and creamy, and with the same chili flakes it still tastes milder than the usual red pot.
Three potatoes, cut big, simmer with pork in a gochujang broth. The starch they release as they cook thickens the broth without any stock or added starch. Stir only now and then, just to keep the bottom from catching; more than that and the potatoes break.