Turon is the afternoon snack sold by vendors on every Filipino street corner, school gate and jeepney stop around three o'clock, often next to banana cue on bamboo skewers. A slice of saba banana and a strip of ripe jackfruit are rolled in a thin spring roll wrapper with brown sugar, then fried in oil that has more brown sugar sprinkled in it, so each roll comes out wrapped in a crackly, glassy caramel shell. It is eaten hot with your fingers, when the banana inside has turned soft and sticky. Saba is a short, firm cooking banana; ripe plantain is the closest substitute. Chef's tip: roll them tightly with no air pockets, or the caramel blows holes in the wrapper.
Spin the randomizer, search with what's already in your fridge, or browse recipes from our chefs.
Kahawa is the strong, spiced black coffee poured from brass pots on the streets of Stone Town: freshly ground coffee boiled with cardamom pods and finished with ginger and ground cardamom. It's bitter-sweet and aromatic. Serve hot in small kahawa cups.
Medovik, the honey cake, is the birthday and name-day cake of countless Ukrainian homes, from Dnipro to Zaporizhzhia, and is shared with kitchens across the former Soviet Union. Eight thin layers of honey-caramel dough are baked like biscuits, then stacked with a tangy sour-cream frosting and left overnight, when they soften into a tender, moist cake. The crumbs from trimming coat the outside. Because it is made with honey and eggs, it is vegetarian but not vegan. Chef's tip: cook the honey, sugar and butter until it turns a deep amber before the bicarbonate goes in; that caramel is the whole flavour of the cake. Common mistake: cutting it the same day, before the layers have soaked up the cream, when it is still dry and hard.
Foutou is the pounded staple of the Baoulé country around Bouaké and Yamoussoukro: boiled plantain, often mixed with cassava, pounded in a wooden mortar into a smooth, stretchy, slightly sweet ball. It is eaten with the fingers, pulled off in pieces and dipped into sauce graine (palm nut), sauce arachide or okra sauce. A food processor followed by a short knead does the job at home. Chef's tip: pound while everything is steaming hot; cold plantain will not come together and stays lumpy.
Cassoulet is the great winter feast of the Languedoc, and the towns of Castelnaudary, Carcassonne and Toulouse still argue over who makes it best. Contains pork: white beans cook with pork rind and belly, then bake for hours with duck confit and garlicky Toulouse sausages in a deep earthenware dish until a dark crust forms on top. It takes two days at a relaxed pace and feeds a crowd. Serve with nothing more than a green salad. Chef's tip: break the crust and push it under several times while it bakes; each new crust adds flavour and body.
Syrnyky are the Sunday breakfast of Ukrainian childhoods: small, thick pancakes made almost entirely of tvorih, the dry farmer's cheese sold at every market in Odesa and Lviv, held together with an egg and a little flour and fried until golden. Inside they should be soft and creamy, like a baked cheesecake, outside lightly crisp. They are served with sour cream and cherry jam, or honey. Tvorih is made with lactic culture rather than rennet, so it suits vegetarians; dry cottage cheese pressed through a sieve or quark also works. Chef's tip: if your cheese is wet, wrap it in a cloth and press it under a weight for an hour; common mistake is adding extra flour to rescue a wet mixture, which makes syrnyky dense and rubbery.
Vinegret is the ruby-coloured salad that sits on almost every Ukrainian New Year and Christmas table, alongside olivier, and fills lunch boxes through the winter. Cooked beetroot, potato and carrot are diced small and tossed with sauerkraut, pickled cucumbers and beans, then dressed with fragrant unrefined sunflower oil, the kind sold by the bottle at markets in Poltava and Kherson. Despite the name there is often no vinegar at all; the sourness comes from the pickles. It is vegan, cheap and keeps for days. Chef's tip: dress the diced beetroot with oil on its own first, then mix in everything else; the oil coats it so the potatoes stay pale and the salad looks like a mosaic rather than all pink.
Zanzibar's spiced pilau: rice cooked with onions, garlic, whole cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, peppercorns, cumin and nutmeg and plenty of vegetables, then finished with coconut milk and baked until fluffy. It's fragrant rather than hot. Garnish with grated coconut and serve hot with kachumbari or a curry.
Lablabi is the working breakfast of Tunis, served from steaming cauldrons in tiny shops near the medina and the markets from dawn, and eaten all over Tunisia on cold winter mornings. Torn day-old bread goes into the bowl first, then hot chickpeas and their garlicky broth, and everyone dresses their own with harissa, cumin, olive oil, lemon and capers; many add a soft-poached egg that is broken through the bread. Chef's tip: let the bread soak for a minute before you stir in the harissa, so it turns soft and spoonable but not mushy.
In Imereti, the region around Kutaisi in western Georgia, this flat round cheese bread is everyday food, and it is the one most families make at home: a tender, quick dough leavened with matsoni (Georgian yogurt) and soda, wrapped around a cheese ball and cooked in a dry frying pan. It is cut into wedges like a pizza and set on the table for breakfast, for a feast, or packed for a long car journey. Georgian imeruli and sulguni cheeses are hard to find outside Georgia, so this uses mozzarella with feta for the salty tang. Choose cheeses labelled vegetarian (microbial rennet). Children love it plain, still warm. A common mistake is rolling it out with heavy pressure, which tears the thin dough so the cheese leaks and burns in the pan. Chef's tip: press it out gently with your fingertips from the centre outwards, and if a small hole appears, pinch a scrap of dough over it before it reaches the pan.
Ask anyone from Kuching what they miss most and the answer is usually kolo mee, a bowl that looks almost too simple: curly, springy egg noodles tossed in fragrant shallot oil, a little soy and white pepper, then crowned with savoury minced pork and slices of char siu. There is no thick gravy and no chilli on top; the flavour is clean, porky and aromatic, and the texture is the whole point, each strand bouncy and separate. Stalls often add a dash of red char siu oil for the 'red' version. It is eaten at any hour with a small bowl of clear soup and pickled green chilli on the side. Chef's tip: cook the noodles in small portions in a big pot of fiercely boiling water and shake them really dry; any leftover water dilutes the shallot oil.
In the old town of Nice, pissaladière is sold by the square from bakeries and market stalls, a lunchtime slice or something to nibble with a drink before dinner. A thin bread dough is spread thickly with onions cooked down for almost an hour until soft and sweet, then crossed with salted anchovies and dotted with small black Niçoise olives. It is just as good at room temperature as warm. Chef's tip: cook the onions low and slow without letting them brown; they should be pale gold and jammy, not caramelised.
Alloco is the evening street food of Abidjan, fried in palm or vegetable oil in big pans by vendors around the Allocodrome in Cocody and in every neighbourhood. Very ripe plantain is cut into thick slices or cubes, fried until caramelised at the edges, and eaten with a fiery raw sauce of onion, tomato and chilli. Unlike Ghanaian kelewele it is not marinated in spices: the sweetness of the fruit against the sharp sauce is the whole point. Chef's tip: wait until the plantain skins are mostly black; yellow plantain fries up dry and starchy.
Buckwheat, hrechka, is the grain Ukrainians grow up on: cooked loose and fluffy, it turns up as a weekday side in Kharkiv kitchens, in student dorms in Lviv and on every school canteen tray. Cooked with fried mushrooms, onion and carrot it becomes a filling meal of its own, and in autumn it is made with wild mushrooms picked in the Polissia forests. It is naturally gluten free and, with no butter, vegan. Chef's tip: dry-toast the grains until they smell nutty and crackle; it gives the kasha its deep flavour and keeps each grain separate.
Zanzibar is the spice island, and chai ya viungo is its everyday tea: black tea boiled with a home-roasted masala of cardamom, dry ginger, black pepper, cloves, cinnamon and nutmeg. The masala keeps for months in an airtight jar. Milk is optional; serve the tea hot.
In late June, when the sour-cherry trees in every yard from Vinnytsia to Cherkasy turn red, Ukrainian families sit around the kitchen table pitting cherries for varenyky. These sweet dumplings are boiled, piled into a bowl and drenched in a syrup made from the cherry juice, a taste of summer holidays at grandmother's. The dough here is the simple water and oil kind, so the recipe is vegan; most Ukrainians also add a spoon of sour cream, which you are welcome to do if you are not cooking vegan. Chef's tip: sugar the cherries in a sieve and let the juice drain before filling, then put a pinch of sugar on each portion only as you seal it, so the dough stays dry at the edges.
Sanga is a home dish of the Beti people around Yaoundé in the Centre region of Cameroon, made in the maize season: young corn is grated off the cob and cooked with finely shredded njama njama (huckleberry leaves) and the orange pulp pressed from palm nuts. It is eaten warm from a bowl, sometimes with a little sugar stirred in. Spinach and tinned palm nut concentrate make a good version abroad. Chef's tip: grate the kernels off the cob rather than slicing them; the milky pulp is what thickens sanga.
Despite the name, no fruit goes into this classic of Fuzhou banquets and family feasts. Lean pork is scored in a fine crosshatch and cut into small pieces that curl into bumpy red balls when fried, looking just like lychees in their shells, while crunchy water chestnuts play the white flesh. The coating is crisp, the sauce glossy, sweet and tangy, and the pork inside stays tender. It is a favourite at Fujian weddings and New Year tables, eaten with steamed rice and a simple green vegetable or clear soup. Chef's tip: score the pork two-thirds of the way through and then cut it into pieces; too shallow and it stays flat, too deep and it falls apart.
When the first sorrel comes up in village gardens around Chernihiv and Sumy in May, Ukrainian grandmothers stop making red borshch and switch to green: a light, lemony soup of sorrel, potato and herbs, served with halved boiled eggs. It is the soup of early summer and of Trinity Sunday, eaten hot with sour cream or chilled on a warm day. Sorrel gives it a clean sourness, so no vinegar is needed. This version uses vegetable stock instead of the chicken or pork stock some families use. Chef's tip: add the sorrel only in the last two minutes; it turns olive green the moment it hits the heat, but if it boils longer it collapses into stringy khaki threads.
Attiéké is the light, slightly sour cassava 'couscous' of the Ébrié and Adjoukrou peoples around Abidjan's lagoons, and it is eaten across Côte d'Ivoire every day of the week. In maquis (open-air restaurants) it comes heaped beside grilled fish with a raw salad of tomato, onion and chilli; at home many people eat it simply with that salad, fried plantain and a fried egg, which is how it is served here. Buy it frozen or dried in African shops. Chef's tip: steam attiéké rather than boiling it; water turns it to paste, while steam keeps the grains fluffy and separate.
Banosh is the shepherds' dish of the Hutsul highlands in the Ukrainian Carpathians, around Verkhovyna, Kosiv and Yaremche. Coarse cornmeal is stirred into simmering sour cream over a fire until the butterfat beads on the surface, then heaped on plates and crumbled with salty bryndza sheep's cheese and forest mushrooms; tourists queue for it in the mountain kolyba restaurants. Traditionally it is also topped with crisp pork crackling, which this vegetarian version leaves out in favour of extra buttery mushrooms. Bryndza is usually made with animal rennet, so look for a sheep's or feta cheese labelled vegetarian. Chef's tip: stir in one direction only with a wooden spoon, as the Hutsuls insist; it keeps the porridge smooth and helps the fat separate out, which tells you it is ready.
Xawaash (pronounced 'ha-wash') is the spice mix every Somali kitchen keeps in a jar, used in rice, soups, stews, sambuusa fillings and even tea. Families toast and grind their own, often in quantity before Ramadan, and the balance of warm cumin, earthy coriander and sweet cardamom and cinnamon varies from house to house. It is different from Yemeni hawaij and Ethiopian berbere: there is no chilli in it. Chef's tip: toast each spice only until it darkens a shade and smells warm; burnt cumin turns the whole jar bitter.
Cooks in Yangzhou say the shaggy meatball looks like a lion's head and the cabbage leaves around it like a mane. The Jiangsu way is the clear braise: no frying, just a slow simmer in stock until the meatballs are so tender that you eat them with a spoon, while the cabbage drinks up the pork juices. They appear at family reunions and at Chinese New Year, where the round shape stands for togetherness. Everything cooks in one pot; serve the meatballs in their broth with rice. Chef's tip: chop some of the pork belly by hand if you can, or ask for coarse mince; a fine, lean mince gives a dense, bouncy ball rather than a soft one.
In Nice the salad is a summer lunch eaten on shady terraces near the Cours Saleya market, and locals argue about what belongs in it. This is the generous everyday version found across the Riviera: ripe tomatoes, little potatoes, crisp green beans, soft-boiled eggs, good tuna and black olives, dressed with a sharp mustard vinaigrette. Use tuna in olive oil from a jar or tin, or a fresh tuna steak seared rare to medium. Chef's tip: dress the warm potatoes and beans first so they soak up the vinaigrette, then build the rest of the salad around them.
Lamprais came to Sri Lanka with the Dutch Burgher community, and Colombo's Burgher families still make it for Sunday lunch, christenings and Christmas. Each banana-leaf parcel holds rice cooked in rich stock, a mixed meat curry, little fried meatballs called frikkadels, a hard-boiled egg, aubergine moju and seeni sambol, all baked together until the leaf perfumes everything. The traditional version uses three meats including pork; this home version keeps it to chicken and beef so it is manageable in one day, and the steps still take time. Chef's tip: make the curry and frikkadels the day before; on lamprais day you only cook the rice and wrap.
Domoda is the stew that most families in the Gambia, from Banjul to the riverside villages upcountry, cook several times a week. Beef is browned and simmered with tomato and onion, then smooth peanut butter is stirred in until the sauce turns thick, glossy and rich, with pumpkin and sweet potato melting into it. It is spooned over white rice with a squeeze of lime, and a scotch bonnet floats in the pot for whoever likes it hot. The mistake to avoid is adding the peanut butter too early and leaving it unstirred, as it catches and burns on the bottom; add it once the beef is nearly tender and stir often. Chef's tip: whisk the peanut butter with a ladle of hot broth before it goes in, so it melts smoothly instead of forming lumps.
Koki is a dense, orange-red bean cake from the Douala and Bakweri country of Cameroon, made from skinned black-eyed beans blended with red palm oil, chilli and greens, then wrapped in banana leaves and steamed for hours. It is weekend food and market food, eaten with boiled plantain, cassava or ripe banana. It is related to Nigerian moi moi but heavier, richer with palm oil and full of cocoyam leaves or spinach. Chef's tip: warm the palm oil just until liquid before beating it in; poured in cold and solid it leaves streaks of fat instead of an even orange colour.
Varenyky with potato are the everyday dumplings of central Ukraine, the ones Gogol's Poltava characters dream about and the ones that fill freezers in Kyiv flats before every holiday. Unlike Polish pierogi ruskie, these have no curd cheese: the filling is simply mashed potato beaten with plenty of onion fried in sunflower oil, so they are vegan and appear on the meatless Holy Supper table on Christmas Eve. They are boiled, then tossed in more golden onion and eaten with dill. Chef's tip: let the filling cool completely before you fill the dough; warm mash steams the dough from inside and the dumplings tear in the pot.
Borshch is the soup Ukrainians measure every kitchen by: a deep ruby pot of beetroot, cabbage, potato and beans, soured just enough and finished with garlic and dill. Every region argues for its own version, from Poltava's with beans to Kyiv's with apples, and in 2022 the cooking of Ukrainian borshch was added to UNESCO's list of culture in need of urgent safeguarding. Traditionally it is simmered on a pork or beef bone stock; this version uses a well-seasoned vegetable stock and white beans, which is how many families cook it during Lent anyway. Serve it hot with a spoon of sour cream and garlic pampushky, and know that it tastes even better the next day. Chef's tip: fry the grated beetroot with a splash of vinegar before it goes into the pot; the acid fixes the red colour, so the soup stays bright instead of fading to brown.
Bouye is the Wolof name for the powdery white pulp of the baobab fruit, and jus de bouye is the thick, creamy-tart drink sold in reused bottles from coolers all over Dakar and served at every family celebration. It tastes like sherbet with a hint of pear. Most cooks now use baobab powder, which is sold in health shops as well as African grocers. Sweetened condensed milk is optional but common. Chef's tip: whisk the powder into a little water first to make a smooth paste; poured straight into a jug it forms lumps that never dissolve.
Bouillabaisse began as the fishermen's supper on the quays of Marseille's Vieux-Port, made from the bony rockfish nobody could sell, and today it is a long, slow Sunday lunch in Provence. A deep orange broth of fennel, tomato, orange peel and saffron is boiled hard so the olive oil emulsifies, then firm white fish and shellfish are poached in it at the last minute. In Marseille the broth is served first with garlicky rouille on toasted bread, then the fish on a platter. Chef's tip: add the fish in order of thickness, firmest first, so every piece finishes at the same moment.
Gundel palacsinta is the festive pancake of Budapest, named after the Gundel restaurant by City Park, where it became the showpiece dessert of the mid-twentieth century. Thin Hungarian pancakes are filled with a rum-scented walnut and raisin paste, folded into triangles and drowned in a dark chocolate sauce, sometimes flamed at the table. Everyday palacsinta at home are simpler, rolled with apricot jam, cocoa sugar or sweet túró; this is the version for name days, Christmas and guests. Chef's tip: rest the batter for 30 minutes; the pancakes become thinner and more elastic and stop tearing when you fold them. Common mistake: overfilling, which makes the triangles burst open.
Ndolé comes from the Douala coast and is Cameroon's national dish, cooked for Sunday lunches, weddings and funerals: bitter leaves washed until only a gentle bitterness remains, simmered in a thick sauce of boiled, ground peanuts. Traditionally it is finished with beef, smoked fish and prawns; this version keeps the greens and peanuts at the centre and tops it with crisp fried onions, the way Douala cooks always do. Serve with boiled plantain, miondo or rice. As a variation, add prawns or beef the traditional way. Chef's tip: use raw peanuts, boiled and ground, not peanut butter; ndolé should be nubbly and pale, not like a smooth satay sauce.
Hideg meggyleves is a chilled sour cherry soup served as a starter in Hungary at the height of summer, from family lunches in the cherry-growing villages around Pest county to the terraces of Balaton restaurants. Sour cherries simmer briefly with sugar, cinnamon and cloves, then the soup is thickened with sour cream and served icy cold, pink and gently tangy. Some cooks add a splash of red wine for grown-ups. It is eaten before the main course, not as dessert, though no one complains if you have it after. Chef's tip: chill it for at least 3 hours; the flavour rounds out and the spices soften as it cools. A common mistake is boiling it after the cream goes in, which curdles it.
Somlói galuska was first served at the Gundel restaurant in Budapest in the 1950s and named after the Somló wine hill in western Hungary. Today it is the dessert everyone orders at the end of a Sunday lunch: spoonfuls of three sponges (plain, walnut and cocoa) soaked in rum syrup and layered with vanilla custard, then topped with chocolate sauce and whipped cream. It is assembled the day before and spooned out into rough dumplings, which is where 'galuska' comes from. This version thickens the custard with flour and egg yolk rather than gelatine. Chef's tip: soak the sponge only lightly; it should be moist but still hold a spoon-shaped scoop.
Baby onions, carrots, potatoes and corn par-boiled, coated in a creamy, fiery marinade of red chilli, garlic, ginger, coriander-cumin and dried fenugreek, then grilled on skewers over charcoal until golden. They're small, colourful and bursting with flavour. Serve hot with lemon wedges.
Coq au vin comes from Burgundy, where farm cooks once used the local red wine to soften a tough old rooster for a long Sunday lunch. This version uses chicken thighs and legs, which stay juicy, and contains pork (smoked lardons). The wine cooks for over an hour, so most of the alcohol is driven off but not all of it; for an alcohol-free version use 500 ml chicken stock with 100 ml red grape juice and 1 tbsp red wine vinegar. Serve with buttery mashed potatoes or boiled potatoes and a crusty loaf. Chef's tip: marinate the chicken in the wine overnight in the fridge; it colours the meat deep purple and seasons it right through.
Thiakry, called dégué in Mali and Burkina Faso, is the creamy dessert of Senegalese weddings, naming ceremonies and Tabaski: pellets of steamed millet stirred into sweetened yoghurt and soft fromage frais, scented with vanilla and nutmeg and served cold. Ready-made millet granules (arraw or sankhal) are sold in African grocers, which makes it a 15-minute job. Raisins and a little coconut are common in Dakar. Chef's tip: steam or soak the millet fully before it meets the yoghurt; undercooked grains stay hard and gritty in the cold.
Kürtőskalács, or chimney cake, comes from the Székely Hungarian villages of Transylvania and is now sold at every Budapest Christmas market and summer festival, turning on spits over glowing coals. A strip of sweet yeast dough is wound around a wooden roller, rolled in sugar and baked until the sugar caramelises into a thin, crackling shell; you unwind the soft, steaming spiral as you eat it. At home you can bake it in the oven on foil-wrapped rolling pins or tins. Chef's tip: press the dough spiral firmly into the sugar before baking; loose sugar falls off, but pressed sugar melts into the glassy crust. A common mistake is leaving gaps between the strips, which makes the cake tear apart when you slide it off.
Mukari are soft, lightly sweet Zanzibari pancakes made from a yeasted rice flour and coconut milk batter scented with cardamom. They're cooked covered over a low heat so they puff up and stay spongy. Serve warm with tea.
Rakott krumpli means 'layered potatoes', and it is a family supper baked all over Hungary, especially in winter in the north-east around Miskolc and Eger, where every household layers it slightly differently. Slices of boiled potato are stacked with hard-boiled eggs and plenty of sour cream, then baked until bubbling and golden. Many versions add smoked sausage; this vegetarian one uses sautéed mushrooms and a dusting of smoked paprika for depth. It is rich, creamy and needs only a sharp cucumber salad or pickles alongside. Chef's tip: boil the potatoes in their skins and peel them while warm; they slice cleanly and don't soak up water.
Niébé is the Wolof and French name for black-eyed beans, and this bright salad turns up at Senegalese family lunches, baptism feasts and Ramadan break-fast tables next to grilled dishes and rice. The beans are dressed while warm with lime, mustard and onion, then mixed with crunchy raw vegetables and a little hot pepper. It travels well and tastes better after an hour. Chef's tip: dress the beans while they are still warm so they drink in the lime; cold beans stay bland however much dressing you pour over.
Ndizi ya kuoka: small bananas halved and baked with lemon juice, brown sugar and cinnamon until soft and syrupy, then served with lightly sweetened cream and a grating of nutmeg. It's a quick, warm pudding. The book's Handy Hints say bananas are good for the heart.
Laal maas grew out of the Rajput hunting tradition in the desert country around Jodhpur and Jaisalmer, where game was cooked with plenty of garlic and red chillies to carry it. Today it's made with goat or lamb and is the dish Rajasthanis cook for a winter feast, served with bajra roti or plain rice and a bowl of yogurt to cool things down. The fierce colour comes from Mathania chillies, grown near Jodhpur, which are deep red, aromatic and properly hot. Some cooks finish it with a burning coal set in the pot to give it a smoky edge, an optional step included here. Chef's tip: soak and grind the dried chillies to a paste instead of using chilli powder; it gives the deep red colour and a rounder heat that doesn't scorch.
Mafé is the Sunday-lunch stew of Senegal and Mali: a rust-coloured sauce of roasted peanut paste and tomato, simmered until oil glistens on top and ladled over broken rice. In Dakar it usually carries lamb or beef; this version uses sweet potato, carrot, cabbage and okra, which soak up the sauce just as well. In Côte d'Ivoire the same idea is called sauce d'arachide and is eaten with rice or foutou; make it slightly thinner and add aubergine for the Abidjan style. Chef's tip: use plain, unsweetened peanut paste and cook it long enough that a thin layer of red oil rises to the surface; that is the sign the peanut has lost its raw taste.
Sydney and Wellington both claim the flat white, first poured in their cafés in the mid-1980s, and today it's the everyday coffee across Australia and New Zealand, from Melbourne's laneway cafés to a beach kiosk in Raglan. It's smaller and stronger than a latte: a double shot of espresso topped with milk steamed to a smooth, glossy microfoam with only a thin layer of froth on top, so the coffee stays at the front. It's velvety, rich and sweet-tasting without sugar. For a vegan version, use a barista-style oat milk. Chef's tip: stretch the milk only for the first few seconds, then sink the wand and let it spin; you want paint-like milk, not a hat of stiff foam.
Lángos is the deep-fried flatbread of Hungarian beaches and markets: it is eaten in swimsuits on the shore of Lake Balaton, at Budapest's Great Market Hall and at every summer fair. The dough is soft and yeasted, often enriched with mashed potato, and it fries into a puffy disc that is crisp at the edges and chewy in the middle. The classic topping is garlic water brushed on hot, then sour cream and a snowfall of grated cheese. Chef's tip: stretch the dough thinner in the centre than at the rim; the edge puffs into a crisp crust while the middle stays soft enough to hold the toppings. Choose a cheese made with vegetarian rennet (many supermarket Cheddars and Edams are).
Paprikás krumpli is a thrifty potato stew that every Hungarian student learns to cook, and it turns up at school dinners, on autumn weekdays and in cauldrons at village harvest festivals. Potatoes simmer in an onion and paprika base with pepper and tomato until they start to break and thicken their own sauce. Most versions add sliced smoked sausage; this vegan one swaps it for a pinch of smoked paprika and caraway, which give the same savoury depth. Serve in bowls with crusty bread and a pickled cucumber or a spoon of pickled peppers on the side. Chef's tip: cut the potatoes unevenly on purpose; the smaller pieces melt and thicken the sauce while the bigger ones stay whole.
Tangawizi is a warming Swahili drink of ginger boiled with cinnamon, clove and black pepper and sweetened to taste. It's hot, peppery and soothing on a cool evening or when you have a cold. Serve hot in small kahawa cups.
Kotosoupa is what a Greek grandmother puts on the stove when someone has a cold, and on the night after Easter Saturday's midnight service many families break the fast with a lemony soup much like it. A whole chicken poaches with onion, carrot and celery, rice cooks in the broth, and at the end beaten eggs and lemon are tempered in so the soup turns creamy and pale without any cream. The chicken is often served on the side with potatoes, or shredded back into the bowl. Chef's tip: whisk the eggs until frothy before adding lemon and hot broth; it makes the soup silky and helps stop it curdling.
Tartiflette is the dish skiers dream about on the last run of the day in the Savoie Alps, served bubbling in its dish in mountain restaurants from Annecy to Val d'Isère. It contains pork: sliced potatoes are layered with onion, smoky lardons and a splash of cream, then a whole Reblochon cheese is halved and laid rind-side up on top so it melts down through everything in the oven. Many cooks add a splash of white wine to the onions; this recipe leaves it out, so it is alcohol-free. Eat it with a sharp green salad and cornichons. Chef's tip: keep the rind on the Reblochon; it bakes to a golden, nutty crust.
Neenish tarts have sat in the windows of Australian country bakeries for more than a century, and they're also found across the Tasman in New Zealand. Where the name comes from is still argued over, with one story placing it in the small town of Grong Grong in New South Wales. A crisp sweet pastry case holds a thin layer of raspberry jam and a fluffy mock cream, a beaten mixture of butter, sugar and milk, and the top is iced in two halves: one white, one chocolate. Many bakery mock creams use gelatine; this one doesn't. Chef's tip: beat the mock cream for a long time, a full 8–10 minutes, until the sugar has dissolved and it is white and fluffy, not gritty.
Bambalouni are the big, flat, chewy doughnuts sold hot and wrapped in paper at the top of the blue-and-white village of Sidi Bou Said, outside Tunis, and on beaches all along the coast in summer. The dough is very soft and yeasty; it is stretched by hand into a ring and fried until puffed and blistered, then rolled in sugar. They are best eaten warm with a mint tea. Chef's tip: oil your hands, not the bench, to shape them; floured dough browns too fast and loses its blistered look.
Kashata ya nazi is a simple Swahili sweet of desiccated coconut cooked with milk, sugar, evaporated milk and cardamom until thick, then pressed into a dish and cut into diamonds. It's chewy and sweet, and it keeps well. Store in an airtight container.
In Seoul, bulgogi restaurants still cook it on a domed grill set into the table, with a moat around the edge that catches the sweet juices for spooning over rice. At home it is made in a hot pan, and it is a favourite for family dinners, lunch boxes and birthday tables. Grated Asian pear softens the meat and adds a gentle sweetness to the soy and garlic. Wrap it in lettuce with a little ssamjang, or eat it over rice. Chef's tip: put the beef in the freezer for 30 minutes before slicing; firm meat cuts into wafer-thin slices easily.
Okinawa soba has nothing to do with buckwheat: the noodles are thick, chewy and made from wheat, and the dish is the islands' everyday lunch. Small soba shops all over Okinawa serve it in a clear, gentle broth of pork and bonito, and the soki version is crowned with spare ribs braised so long that even the cartilage turns soft. Slices of fishcake, spring onions and red pickled ginger finish the bowl, and every table has a bottle of chilli steeped in awamori to splash on. October 17 is Okinawa Soba Day on the islands. Chef's tip: braise the ribs a day ahead; cold, the fat sets on top of the cooking liquid and lifts off in one piece, and the broth is cleaner for it.
Hangzhou restaurants by West Lake have served this for generations, traditionally with grass carp kept in clean water for a day or two before cooking. The fish is not fried at all: it is butterflied, poached for a few minutes, and coated with a shiny, dark sauce of black vinegar and sugar that tastes sharp first and sweet after. The flesh should be tender enough to fall from the bone at a touch. Carp, sea bass or a thick white fish fillet all work at home. Eat it with rice and a simple stir-fried green vegetable. Chef's tip: thicken the sauce at the last moment and pour it straight over; left to sit, it turns gluey.
Kagoshima, at the southern tip of Kyushu, is known across Japan for kurobuta, black Berkshire pork raised on farms in the prefecture. The meat is sweet with soft, clean-tasting fat, and shabu-shabu restaurants in Kagoshima city serve it sliced paper-thin so diners can cook it themselves at the table. Any thinly sliced pork loin or belly works well at home; Asian grocers sell it frozen for hot pots. Each slice is swished through the simmering kombu broth, then dipped in tangy ponzu or creamy sesame sauce. Chef's tip: when the meat is finished, cook a handful of rice or noodles in the leftover broth; it has taken on all the flavour of the pork and vegetables.
Chicken nanban comes from Miyazaki prefecture in Kyushu, where it was created in the city of Nobeoka in the mid 20th century as staff food at a Western-style restaurant. Today it is the region's best-known lunch set, served in diners all over Miyazaki with shredded cabbage, rice and miso soup. Chicken thighs are dipped in flour and beaten egg, fried golden, then briefly bathed in sweet soy vinegar and covered with a chunky egg tartar. The sharp vinegar and the rich tartar balance each other. Chef's tip: dip the hot chicken in the vinegar only for a few seconds per side; you want it seasoned, not soaked.
Tambi ya nazi: soft vermicelli stirred into sweetened coconut milk with crushed cardamom, then baked briefly so it sets lightly. It's creamy, gently sweet and fragrant, and is often made for Eid. Serve hot, sprinkled with more cardamom.
Kumamoto's ramen grew from the same Kyushu pork-bone tradition as Hakata's, but it took its own road. The broth blends pork bones with chicken for a rounder, milder soup, the noodles are thicker and firmer, and every bowl is finished with mayu, a black oil made by slowly burning garlic, plus a handful of crisp fried garlic chips. Ramen shops around Kumamoto city and its castle serve it with chashu, wood ear mushroom and a seasoned egg. This version is a long weekend project, but the mayu and the chashu can be made a day ahead. Chef's tip: make the mayu over low heat and keep stirring; the garlic must go slowly from gold to brown to black, which takes about 15 minutes.
Gombapaprikás is the meatless cousin of chicken paprikás, cooked in Hungarian homes on Fridays and through Lent, and a regular on the vegetarian line of Budapest's self-service étkezde lunch rooms. Mushrooms simmer in onion, paprika and a little pepper and tomato, then the sauce is finished with sour cream until it turns a soft brick-pink. It is quick, rich and comforting, and nokedli are its natural partner, though rice or boiled potatoes work too. Chef's tip: brown the mushrooms in a hot pan in two batches before they meet the onions, so they fry instead of stewing in their own water and the sauce tastes deep rather than watery.
In the Champaran district of north-west Bihar, near the Nepal border, mutton is cooked in an ahuna or handi: a clay pot packed with raw meat, whole bulbs of garlic, onions, mustard oil and spices, sealed shut with dough and left for hours on a slow charcoal fire. Nobody adds water and nobody stirs; the meat cooks in its own juices and the garlic turns soft and sweet. Roadside dhabas on the highways out of Motihari made it famous, and it is now cooked at family picnics and parties right across Bihar, eaten with rice or rotis. This home version uses a heavy pot sealed with foil and a lid. Chef's tip: shake the pot instead of opening it; every time the lid comes off, steam escapes and the meat dries out.
Every khantoke dinner in Chiang Mai sets out a bowl of this brick-red relish beside the sticky rice baskets, and morning markets sell it by the scoop in little plastic bags. It sits somewhere between a chunky meat sauce and a dip: sweet-sour from slow-cooked cherry tomatoes, savoury from shrimp paste and pork, with a gentle chilli warmth rather than a blast. Scoop it up with cucumber, blanched long beans, cabbage wedges and crisp pork crackling, or press a ball of sticky rice into it. Chef's tip: fry the pounded paste in the oil until it darkens and smells toasty before the pork goes in; that is where the deep, roasted flavour comes from.
Showing 63 of 4,484 recipes
Show more recipesPage 269 of 499
Vegan
Gluten free
Spicy
Ukrainian
Ivorian
French
Tunisian
Georgian
Malaysian
Cameroonian
Chinese
Somali
Sri Lankan
Senegalese
Hungarian
Indian
Australian
Greek
Korean
Japanese
Thai