Skip to content
Gambas al ajillo
Featured recipe

Gambas al ajillo

Garlic prawns

Walk into a bar near Madrid's Plaza Mayor or Puerta del Sol and you will hear gambas al ajillo before you see them: peeled prawns still spitting in a small terracotta cazuela of olive oil, sliced garlic and dried chilli. They arrive at the table bubbling, with a basket of bread for mopping up the golden oil, which many people think is the best part. At home it takes ten minutes and works as a tapa for four or a quick supper for two. Chef's tip: pat the prawns completely dry with kitchen paper before they go in, so they sizzle in the oil instead of stewing in their own water.

Read more 0 views

What to eat today?

Around the world

Today's trip: Paraguayan

A new country every day, from every cuisine on the site.

Paraguayan

Chipa

Cheese bread rings 50 minMore from Paraguayan (27) →

This week's collection

Kid-friendly dinners
537 recipes · a new collection every Monday

Latest recipes

Aloo tukTwice-fried pressed potatoes

Aloo tuk is the crunch on a Sindhi plate, the thing children steal first: small potatoes boiled, fried, squashed flat and fried again until they are craggy and crisp at the edges and fluffy within, then showered with red chilli, tangy amchur and salt. In Sindhi homes from Karachi to Shikarpur they sit beside Sindhi kadhi and rice or dal and bhuga chawal, and they are also served on their own as a teatime snack with green chutney. The most common error is pressing the potatoes while they are still raw-centred or too hot and wet, which makes them tear instead of flatten neatly. Chef's tip: after the first fry let them cool for five minutes, then press each one under a flat-bottomed bowl so it cracks at the edges, since those cracks become the crispest bits. For children, go easy on the chilli and use more amchur.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Antiguan ducanaSweet potato coconut dumplings

In Antigua, ducana turns up beside saltfish and chop up on Saturday plates and at Independence celebrations in November, little leaf-wrapped parcels of grated sweet potato and coconut with sugar, raisins and spice, boiled until set. It cuts through the salty fish with a soft, sticky sweetness. Many cooks add a little flour; this version keeps to sweet potato and coconut and is gluten free. The common mistake is wrapping the parcels loosely, so water seeps in and they turn mushy. Chef's tip: grate the sweet potato finely on the small holes and the ducana will hold together without any flour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Danwake (bean flour dumplings)

Roadside danwake sellers in Kano and Kaduna ladle the little dumplings out of big pots, then dress them on the plate with groundnut oil, a dusting of fiery yaji, raw onion and tomato. The dough is bean flour stiffened with baobab leaf powder and a pinch of potash or bicarbonate, which gives the dumplings their dark colour and springy bite. Boiled eggs are often served alongside; leave them out, as here, and the dish is fully vegan and still satisfying, thanks to the beans. A dough that is too soft falls apart in the water, so boil one test dumpling before you shape the rest. Chef's tip: drop the cooked dumplings into cold water straight away; it stops them sticking together and firms the surface.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Masa (Hausa fermented rice cakes)

Before sunrise in Kano, Sokoto and Katsina, women set out clay or cast-iron pans with round hollows and fry masa by the dozen for breakfast, and during Ramadan they are a favourite at the breaking of the fast. Soaked rice is ground with a little cooked rice, left to ferment until bubbly, then cooked in the hollows, so each cake is crisp and brown underneath and soft and spongy inside, with a gentle sourness. They are eaten with sugar syrup, yaji pepper or miyan taushe (honey is common too, while syrup keeps them vegan). A thin batter is the classic mistake: it spreads and fries flat, so aim for the thickness of a thick pancake batter. Chef's tip: start the night before, since the rice soaks 8 hours and the batter ferments 4–8 hours more, and use an aebleskiver or paniyaram pan if you have no masa pan.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Maple-glazed ham

At the cabanes à sucre of Quebec in March and April, a smoked pork ham baked in maple syrup is the centrepiece of the long tables, carved alongside pea soup, beans and omelette. At home it is an Easter favourite in the Eastern Townships. The ham is simmered, then glazed and baked, basted again and again until it shines. Check the label: most smoked hams are already cooked and only need heating, while uncooked ones need full cooking. A common mistake is glazing too early, which burns the sugar before the ham is hot. Chef's tip: a splash of cider vinegar in the glaze balances the sweetness.

150 minCanadianMeatGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Meatball stew

Ragoût de boulettes is a Quebec Christmas Eve and New Year dish, simmered in big pots for the réveillon in the Saguenay and Beauce, often served with pork hocks and boiled potatoes. The meatballs are made from minced pork, gently spiced with cinnamon, clove and nutmeg, and simmered in a gravy thickened with flour toasted dry in a pan until brown. That toasted flour gives the stew its colour and nutty taste. A common mistake is toasting the flour too quickly so it burns; keep the heat moderate and stir constantly. Chef's tip: it tastes even better the next day, so make it ahead and reheat until piping hot.

150 minCanadianMeat
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Queen Elizabeth cake

Queen Elizabeth cake has been a favourite in Canadian homes and Quebec bakeries since the 1950s, especially around coronations and royal visits, and it still turns up at Montreal family birthdays and Sunday teas. A moist, tender date cake is baked, then covered in a bubbling coconut and brown-sugar topping and put under the grill until it caramelises. It is humble, rich and keeps well for days. A common mistake is walking away from the grill; the topping goes from golden to burnt in under a minute. Chef's tip: soak the dates in boiling water with the bicarbonate so they melt into the crumb.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Puffed wheat squares

Puffed wheat squares are the Prairie kids' party treat, made in Alberta and Saskatchewan kitchens for hockey bake sales and lunchboxes since the 1950s. Puffed wheat is stirred into a quick toffee of butter, brown sugar, golden syrup and cocoa, pressed into a pan and cut once set. They are chewy rather than crunchy and very hard to stop eating. A common mistake is boiling the syrup too long, which sets them rock hard; one minute of boiling is enough. Chef's tip: butter your hands, not just the pan, to press the mix down evenly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Labrador tea

Labrador tea grows in the bogs and boreal forests right across northern Canada, and Cree, Dene and Inuit families have long dried its leathery, rust-backed leaves for a hot drink on the land and at home. It tastes resinous and piney, a bit like rosemary and eucalyptus, and is often sweetened with a little sugar. The leaves contain natural compounds that are harmful in large amounts, so brew it weak, drink a cup or two, and don't steep it for hours. It is not for pregnant or breastfeeding women. Only pick it if you know the plant well: the poisonous bog laurel grows alongside it; dried leaves from a trusted seller are safest. A common mistake is using a big handful of leaves; one tablespoon makes two cups. Chef's tip: steep below boiling and briefly; a long boil makes it bitter and stronger than you want.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Three Sisters soup

The Three Sisters, corn, beans and squash planted together in one mound, are the heart of Haudenosaunee farming in what is now southern Ontario and Quebec, and of many other Eastern Woodlands nations. Simmered together, they make a filling, golden autumn soup served at harvest gatherings and at home through the winter. This version uses dried beans and fresh squash for a thick, naturally sweet pot. A common mistake is adding the corn too early, which makes it tough; it goes in for the last 10 minutes. Chef's tip: roast half the squash first for a deeper, nuttier flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Honey dill sauce

Ask for honey dill anywhere outside Manitoba and you'll get a blank look, but in Winnipeg every pub, burger stand and school canteen serves it with chicken fingers, fries and onion rings. It is simply mayonnaise sweetened with liquid honey and full of fresh dill, and it takes five minutes. It is also good on veggie burgers and baked potatoes. A common mistake is using thick set honey, which won't blend; warm it first. Chef's tip: make it an hour ahead so the dill flavours the whole sauce.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sour cream raisin pie

Sour cream raisin pie is a farm-kitchen dessert from the Old Order Mennonite communities of Waterloo County, Ontario, found at the St Jacobs market and at church suppers around Elmira. Plump raisins sit in a tangy sour-cream custard, warm with cinnamon and clove, under a tall cloud of meringue. It is made ahead and served cool, cut in generous wedges. A common mistake is spreading the meringue on a cold filling, which makes it weep; spread it while the filling is hot. Chef's tip: simmer the raisins first so they are soft and juicy instead of chewy in the custard.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Wild rice salad

Manoomin, true wild rice, is hand-harvested by canoe by Anishinaabe families on the shallow lakes of northern Ontario and Manitoba in late summer, the grains knocked into the boat with cedar sticks. Its nutty, smoky taste is lovely cold in a salad with dried cranberries, toasted sunflower and pumpkin seeds and a light maple vinaigrette, the kind of dish brought to a feast or a summer potluck. Hand-harvested lake rice cooks faster than the black cultivated paddy rice, so check it early. A common mistake is cooking it until it splits wide open and turns mushy. Chef's tip: dress the rice while it is still warm so it drinks in the vinaigrette.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chopped liver

Chopped liver is the first course of many Friday-night dinners in Ashkenazi homes from Haifa to Petah Tikva, spread on challah before the soup, and Tel Aviv delis still sell it by weight on Thursdays. Chicken livers are cooked through in schmaltz with a mountain of slowly browned onion, then chopped with hard-boiled egg into a coarse, rich spread that is sweet from the onion and deeply savoury. It is served cool, with challah, crackers or rye bread and a pickled cucumber. People often undercook the livers to keep them soft, but for safety they must have no pink left inside; the onion and schmaltz keep the texture tender anyway. Chef's tip: pulse in short bursts or chop by hand; a smooth purée loses the rustic texture that makes this different from a French pâté.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Puffed maple omelette

A tall, golden puffed omelette arrives on every table at the cabanes à sucre of the Laurentians and the Eastern Townships, sliced into wedges and drowned in fresh maple syrup alongside beans and ham. The eggs are separated, the whites whipped and folded back in, then the omelette starts on the hob and finishes in the oven so it rises like a soufflé. It must go to the table at once, before it sinks. A common mistake is beating the whites until stiff and dry, which makes the omelette grainy. Chef's tip: fold the whites in with a large metal spoon in three goes, keeping as much air as you can.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Montreal-style bagels

On Fairmount and St-Viateur streets in Montreal's Mile End the bagel bakeries run all night, rolling dough by hand, boiling it in honey water and baking it on long planks in wood-fired ovens. The result is smaller, sweeter and denser than a New York bagel, with a big hole and a crust thickly coated in sesame. They are eaten warm from the paper bag, plain or with cream cheese. Egg goes into the dough and there is no salt-heavy chew, which is what gives that light sweetness. Chef's tip: bake on the hottest oven setting and on a preheated stone or heavy tray, the closest a home oven gets to the wood fire.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Braised brisket

A slowly braised brisket is the centrepiece of the Rosh Hashanah and Passover table for many Ashkenazi families in Israel, from Ra'anana to Jerusalem's German Colony, often made two days ahead because it slices better and tastes deeper once it has rested in its gravy. The beef sits on a bed of sliced onions with carrots, garlic, tomato paste and a little sugar and vinegar, covered tightly, and cooks for hours until fork-tender, while the onions melt into a rich brown sauce. Serve with potato kugel, tzimmes or mashed potatoes. Slicing it hot and along the grain is the usual mistake: chill it, then cut across the grain into thin slices. Chef's tip: return the slices to the gravy and reheat gently so every piece soaks up the sauce.

260 minIsraeliMeatGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tahini cookies

Every Israeli bakery and grandmother's biscuit tin has ugiyot tahini, little domed cookies that crumble and melt on the tongue with a deep, toasty sesame flavour. They are baked for Shabbat coffee, for guests dropping by in Haifa or Jerusalem, and as an easy dairy-free sweet to follow a meat meal. This version uses oil rather than butter, so it is vegan. The mistake is baking until they turn golden all over; they firm up as they cool and should leave the oven pale with just-coloured bases. Chef's tip: stir the tahini jar thoroughly first, since the oil separates and a dry spoonful from the bottom makes sandy, dry cookies.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Egg salad guédille

A guédille is the snack-bar sandwich of Quebec, sold at the casse-croûte stands along the St Lawrence and in the Lower Saint-Lawrence towns all summer. A top-split hot-dog bun is buttered and toasted on the flat-top, then stuffed high with shredded iceberg and a soft egg salad. By the sea the same bun is filled with lobster, but the egg guédille is the everyday version kids order with fries. It takes 25 minutes and is just as good for a picnic lunch. A common mistake is filling the buns too early, which turns them soggy. Chef's tip: shred the lettuce very finely and put it under the egg so the bun stays crisp.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Antiguan chop upMashed aubergine, okra and spinach

Antigua's national plate pairs fungee, a cornmeal and okra loaf, with pepperpot, and on the side there is often chop up: aubergine, okra and spinach cooked down with onion, garlic and thyme, then mashed to a soft, green-flecked purée. It is gentle, savoury and silky, and some cooks add butter or salted meat; this version is vegan and uses coconut oil. The mistake to avoid is stirring the okra too much early on, which makes it slimy; let it soften undisturbed, then mash. Chef's tip: a squeeze of lime at the end lifts the flavour and calms any okra stickiness.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Quebec pea soup

In Quebec farmhouses a pot of soupe aux pois went on the back of the wood stove on Saturday and fed the family through the cold weeks; it is still served at sugar shacks and on chilly Sundays from Gaspé to Gatineau. Whole yellow peas break down over three hours into a thick, golden, earthy soup scented with summer savory. The old version is cooked with a slab of salt pork; this pot leaves it out and builds depth with browned onion and a bay leaf instead, so it is vegan. Serve with crusty bread or a ploye. Chef's tip: use whole yellow peas, not split ones; they hold some bite and give the soup its proper rustic body.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Eggs poached in maple syrup

At Quebec sugar shacks in early spring, the oldest treat of all is an egg cracked straight into a pan of boiling maple syrup, cooked until the white sets into lacy sweet ribbons. Families in the Appalachian regions of Beauce and Chaudière-Appalaches eat it with buttered country bread to mop up the syrup. It is sweet, rich and surprisingly simple. A common mistake is letting the syrup boil hard, which scorches it and turns the eggs rubbery. Chef's tip: use very fresh eggs; their whites hold together and wrap round the yolk instead of spreading.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Flapper pie

Flapper pie is the "Prairie pie" of Saskatchewan and Manitoba, served in small-town cafés and at fall suppers from Moose Jaw to Brandon since the 1920s, when graham crumbs, milk and eggs were what the farm pantry always had. A crunchy cinnamon graham base holds a soft vanilla custard topped with meringue and more crumbs. It is best eaten the day it is made, slightly chilled. A common mistake is pouring a lumpy custard; whisk without stopping and strain it if needed. Chef's tip: save a few spoonfuls of the crumb mix to scatter on the meringue, which is the pie's signature look.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cheese blintzes

Cheese blintzes are the star of Shavuot breakfasts in Ashkenazi homes across Israel, and Jerusalem dairy cafés have served them for generations with soured cream and berry sauce. Thin crêpes, cooked on one side only, are wrapped around sweetened farmer cheese with lemon and vanilla, then fried in butter until crisp and golden outside and creamy within. Serve two per person with soured cream and a spoon of cherry or blueberry compote. Farmer cheese is usually rennet-free, but check the label and choose a vegetarian one. A common mistake is a wet filling: drain the cheese well or it leaks and the blintzes burst in the pan. Chef's tip: fill on the cooked side, so the pale raw side ends up outside and browns properly in the final fry.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Coconut macaroons

Coconut macaroons are the Passover biscuit in Israel: every supermarket stacks them high before the holiday, but homemade ones from a Haifa or Jerusalem kitchen are far better, crisp and golden on the outside and moist and chewy inside. They need just desiccated coconut, egg whites, sugar and vanilla, with no flour or leavening, so they suit the Passover rules and are naturally gluten free and dairy free. Dip the bases in dark chocolate if you like. The common mistake is baking them on a hot tray straight from a previous batch, which burns the bases before the tops colour. Chef's tip: let the mixture rest for 15 minutes so the coconut soaks up the whites and the mounds hold their shape.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Flourless chocolate cake

In Israel this dense chocolate cake is the dessert of the Passover seder in countless homes, from Tel Aviv flats to kibbutz dining halls, because it needs no flour and only rises on whisked eggs. Dark chocolate, eggs, ground almonds and a little butter bake into a cake with a thin, crackled top and a deep, fudgy middle, rich enough to serve in slim slices with berries or whipped cream. Made with oil instead of butter, it can follow a meat meal. The common mistake is overbaking: take it out while the centre still wobbles slightly, as it sets as it cools. Chef's tip: fold the whites into the chocolate in three goes, the first one roughly, to loosen it, then the rest gently to keep the air.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Frankincense water

Around Salalah in Oman's Dhofar region, where the frankincense trees grow on the dry hills behind the coast, many households drop a few tears of resin into a jug of water at night and sip it the next day, believing it settles the stomach. The water turns faintly milky and tastes cool, piney and slightly bitter. It is drunk at room temperature, in small glasses, often in the morning. Use only food-grade Boswellia sacra resin sold for eating (the pale hojari grade is best), never incense blends, and do not drink it if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, or without asking a doctor if you take regular medication. The mistake is using too much resin, which makes it unpleasantly bitter. Chef's tip: rinse the tears in a sieve first to wash off dust and resin powder, and the water will be clearer and gentler.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lao iced coffee

High on the Bolaven Plateau above Pakse, the coffee towns around Paksong grow most of Laos's beans, and roadside stalls there brew them dark and strong through a long cloth sock, all day long. Ordered cold, it arrives as a glass of ice with a thick layer of sweetened condensed milk at the bottom, the black coffee poured over and stirred to a caramel brown, often with a free cup of weak tea to sip afterwards. It is bitter-sweet, chocolatey and much richer than a café latte, made for hot afternoons on the plateau or a morning stop in Pakse. A French press or a fine sieve lined with a paper filter stands in for the cloth sock. Pouring hot coffee straight onto ice before adding the milk is where it goes flat: the condensed milk won't dissolve in cold coffee and sinks in a gluey lump. Chef's tip: stir the condensed milk into the hot coffee first, then pour over the ice.

10 minLaoDrinksGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Khmer green mango salad with crispy dried fish

Sharp enough to make you wince and then reach for more, nhoam svay is the salad sold from glass-fronted carts around Siem Reap's Old Market and packed for weekend picnics at the West Baray reservoir. Hard green mango is cut into fine strands and tossed with shallots, mint and a dressing of lime, fish sauce and palm sugar, then topped with crunchy roasted peanuts and flakes of salty dried fish fried until crisp. It is eaten as a snack on its own or as a fresh, sour side to grilled meat and rice. Many people dress it too early, which draws water out of the mango and leaves a limp, watery salad. Chef's tip: fry the dried fish slowly until it shatters, then crumble it over at the very last moment; for a vegetarian version, leave it out and use soy sauce in place of the fish sauce.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Khmer pickled vegetables

Cambodian cooks keep a jar of chrouk in the fridge the way others keep ketchup. These quick pickles of green papaya, carrot, cucumber and a little ginger come on the side of broken-rice breakfasts in Phnom Penh, with grilled food at night markets and tucked into num pang baguettes, adding crunch and a sweet-sour snap to anything rich or smoky. The brine is simply rice vinegar, sugar and salt, which keeps the vegetables pale and crisp. Pouring the brine on boiling hot is the classic slip: it softens the cucumber and dulls the colours. Chef's tip: salt the papaya and carrot for 15 minutes and squeeze them before jarring; they stay crunchy for a week instead of turning floppy by day two.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kep crab with green Kampot pepper

This is the dish people travel to the seaside town of Kep for: at the crab market, women haul baskets of blue swimmer crabs out of the water, and the wooden restaurants behind them stir-fry the catch for lunch with whole sprigs of green peppercorns picked that week in the Kampot hills. Fresh green pepper is juicy and aromatic rather than fiery, popping between the teeth with a bright, almost citrusy heat, and it clings to the sweet crab meat along with garlic and a light, salty-sweet sauce. Eat it with your hands, with rice and a saucer of salt, pepper and lime. Overcooking is the usual failure: crab left in the wok too long turns dry and stringy. Chef's tip: buy crabs already killed and cleaned by the fishmonger, or frozen cut crab, and throw out any piece that smells off; cook just until the shells turn bright orange and the meat is opaque right through.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Trey aing (grilled fish with lemongrass)

Around Siem Reap and the floating villages of the Tonlé Sap, weekend outings mean a bamboo picnic hut by the water and a whole fish grilled over charcoal in a wire basket. The fish is stuffed and rubbed with lemongrass, garlic and salt, so the skin blisters and smokes while the white flesh stays moist; diners pull off flakes and wrap them in lettuce with mint, basil, sliced cucumber and sour green mango, then dunk the parcel in a garlicky lime dip with crushed peanuts. Snakehead or tilapia are the usual fish, but sea bass or bream are excellent. Turning the fish too soon is the classic misstep; the skin tears and sticks to the grill. Chef's tip: oil the fish and the basket well, then leave it alone until the underside releases by itself, about 10 minutes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Burmese pork curry

Glistening under a layer of brick-red oil, pork curry sits at the front of every Yangon htamin zain, the rice-and-curry shops where office workers queue at lunchtime and point at pots. Chunks of pork belly and shoulder are cooked very slowly in a paste of onion, garlic and ginger until the meat is spoon-tender, the fat has melted into the sauce and the oil floats free on top. It tastes savoury and gently sweet rather than fiery, and arrives with plain rice, a sour leaf soup, boiled vegetables and a dish of fish-paste dip. People often fry the onion paste too fast; it scorches before the water has cooked out and the curry turns bitter, so keep the heat at a steady medium. Chef's tip: the curry tastes even better the next day, when the pork has soaked up the sauce; lift off a little of the oil before reheating if you prefer it leaner.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lao fish soup with dill

Restaurants on stilts over the Mekong at Pakse, where the Xe Don river joins it, serve tom pa at lunch in big communal bowls, and southern Lao families make it at home whenever the market has fresh river fish. Chunks of fish poach gently in a clear broth fragrant with lemongrass, galangal and lime leaf, soured with tomato and lime and finished with a generous fistful of dill, an herb Lao cooks use far more than their neighbours. The result is light, tangy and aromatic, with soft fish and a whisper of chilli heat; spoon it over sticky rice or sip it between mouthfuls of jeow. Boiling hard once the fish goes in is the mistake to watch, as the pieces break up and the broth turns cloudy. Chef's tip: add the dill only when the pot is off the heat, so it stays green and sweet.

30 minLaoSoupsGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Burmese pea fried rice

Ask almost anyone from Yangon what they ate for breakfast as a child and the answer is often this: last night's rice, fried in a hot wok with soft boiled peas and plenty of onion, eaten before school with a glass of hot green tea. It is pale, gently savoury and comforting rather than spicy, with the peas bursting creamy against slightly crisp grains of rice. Families add a few slices of cucumber on the side and a spoon of crispy onions, and some cooks toss in a pinch of turmeric for colour. The usual error is using freshly cooked rice, which clumps and steams instead of frying. Chef's tip: crumble the cold rice with damp hands before it goes in the wok, so every grain hits the hot oil separately.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Khmer red chicken curry

When a Cambodian family celebrates (a wedding, Khmer New Year, the Pchum Ben days in autumn), a big pot of red curry is usually on the stove, and in Phnom Penh it is just as likely to be eaten for breakfast from a street stall with a crusty baguette for mopping. It is a gentle, fragrant curry rather than a fiery one: chicken on the bone simmered in coconut milk with a red kroeung of dried chillies, lemongrass and galangal, plus chunks of sweet potato, aubergine and long beans that soak up the orange-tinged sauce. Dropping all the vegetables in at once is the error to avoid; the aubergine collapses before the sweet potato is cooked. Chef's tip: make it a few hours ahead or the day before, as the flavours deepen and the sauce settles into a silky, spoonable gravy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kyay oh

Served bubbling in a small brass pot, which is what kyay oh means, this Chinese-Burmese soup fills the late-night noodle shops of Yangon's Chinatown and the busy breakfast places of Mandalay. A clear, peppery pork broth carries thin rice noodles, springy hand-rolled pork balls, sliced pork, tender greens and an egg cracked in at the last moment so it poaches in the pot. Garlic oil, white pepper and a side of vinegar with chopped chilli keep each spoonful sharp and warming. The pitfall is boiling the broth hard once the pork balls are in; they toughen and the soup turns cloudy, so keep it at a gentle bubble. Chef's tip: slap the pork mince against the bowl for a minute before shaping; it gives the balls their bouncy, almost crunchy texture.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Burmese gourd fritters

Afternoon fry stalls along the lanes of downtown Yangon sell these by the paper cone, golden sticks of bottle gourd still crackling from the wok, and they are the fritter most people choose to dunk into a breakfast bowl of mohinga. Inside the thin rice-flour shell, the gourd steams until soft and almost juicy, mild and slightly sweet against the crunchy, salty coating. A tangy tamarind sauce with garlic and chilli is the usual partner. The classic failure is a thick, gluey batter that hides the vegetable and goes chewy within minutes; it should be as thin as single cream. Chef's tip: add a few drops of lime juice and ice-cold water to the batter just before frying; the cold keeps the coating light and crisp.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Salted egg chicken

Zi char stalls, the cook-to-order kitchens at the back of Singapore's coffee shops, made salted egg yolk sauce famous with crab and prawns, and the chicken version has become a dinner-table favourite with families who order three or four dishes to share with rice. Crisp, double-fried pieces of thigh are tossed through a sandy, frothy sauce of salted duck egg yolks foamed in butter with curry leaves and bird's eye chilli, so every nook is coated in something rich, savoury and faintly sweet. Serve it straight away with plain rice and a simple stir-fried green vegetable to balance the richness. The most common mistake is adding the yolks to butter that is too hot: they scorch, turn grainy and never foam. Chef's tip: mash the steamed yolks through a sieve while they are still warm, so they melt into a smooth, frothy coating.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hainanese curry rice

Late-night and early-morning crowds in Tiong Bahru, Beo Crescent and Jalan Besar know the drill at a Hainanese curry rice stall: point at what you want, then ask for it "banjir", flooded. A plate of white rice disappears under two gravies, a mild, coconut-rich curry with soft potato and chicken, and a dark, five-spice braising sauce, then gets topped with crumbed fried pork chop, braised cabbage and a runny-edged fried egg. It is messy, comforting and salty-sweet, and leftovers taste even better the next day. The usual mistake is a thin, watery curry; it should be thick enough to cling to the rice, so let the potatoes break down a little and reduce the gravy well. Chef's tip: crush cream crackers rather than using breadcrumbs for the pork chop, as the old Hainanese cooks do; they fry up shatteringly crisp and stay that way under the gravy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Teochew fish soup

Office workers in the CBD form long lunch queues for a dish that looks almost plain: a bowl of clear, sweet broth with thick slices of batang (Spanish mackerel), wedges of tomato, silken tofu, lettuce and a little salted vegetable, served with rice or thick rice noodles. Good stalls simmer fish bones for hours, but at home a well-flavoured stock and plenty of ginger get you close in half an hour. The fish should be just set and springy, the broth light, gently tangy from tomato and savoury from fish sauce. Most home versions go wrong by boiling the slices hard, which breaks them up and turns them chalky; they need only a few minutes at a gentle simmer. Chef's tip: toss the fish slices with a pinch of salt and a teaspoon of tapioca starch before cooking, which keeps them silky and stops them falling apart.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Singapore-style fried vermicelli

Despite the name, nobody in Singapore grew up on this: sing chau chau mai was invented in Hong Kong's cha chaan teng and Cantonese kitchens, where a little curry powder and a hot wok turn thin rice vermicelli golden-yellow. It is tossed with strips of char siu (Cantonese barbecued pork), prawns, egg ribbons, peppers, onion and bean sprouts, and comes out dry, springy and fragrant with a gentle curry warmth. Diners order it for lunch with a glass of iced lemon tea. A classic misstep is soaking the vermicelli too long in hot water, so it breaks into short, mushy bits in the wok; soak it in cold water until just pliable. Chef's tip: toast the curry powder in the oil for a few seconds before the noodles go in, so it tastes rounded rather than raw and dusty.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Gu lou yuk (Cantonese sweet and sour pork)

Ask a Hong Kong family what they order at a dai pai dong for the children, and gu lou yuk is near the top: nuggets of pork shoulder fried twice until shatteringly crisp, then tossed at the last moment with pineapple, green and red pepper and onion in a shiny, tangy, scarlet sauce. Cantonese cooks in Guangzhou and Hong Kong have made it for well over a century, and it is a fixture of wedding banquets and takeaway menus worldwide. Eat it fresh with steamed rice while the coating still crunches. A common pitfall is simmering the pork in the sauce, which turns the crust soggy within a minute; thicken the sauce first, then toss for a few seconds only. Chef's tip: the second, hotter fry is what makes it crisp, so don't skip it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kampot pepper and lime dip

Every table in Kampot and along the crab-shack pier at Kep gets a saucer of tuk mrech, and diners mix their own: a heap of salt, a spoonful of freshly cracked local pepper and a squeeze of lime. It is sharp, salty and floral-hot, with none of the sweetness of most Khmer dips, and it is meant for dragging grilled corn, griddled tofu, fried eggs or a pepper crab through. Kampot pepper carries a protected geographical indication and tastes fruity and resinous rather than just hot; any good whole black peppercorns work, but pre-ground pepper does not. People often get it wrong by grinding the pepper to dust, which turns the dip muddy and bitter, or by mixing it hours ahead so the lime goes flat. Chef's tip: warm the peppercorns in a dry pan for a minute before cracking them, and squeeze the lime straight into the saucer at the table so it stays fresh and zingy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

White cut chicken with ginger-scallion oil

No Cantonese celebration in Hong Kong or Guangdong is complete without a plate of baak chit gai: at Lunar New Year, weddings and ancestor offerings, the whole chicken stands for family togetherness. It is the purest of the poached dishes, with pale, springy skin, a thin layer of jelly beneath it from the ice-water plunge, and smooth, juicy meat, all lifted by a dipping bowl of ginger and spring onion sizzled with hot oil and salt. Serve it at room temperature with rice cooked in the poaching stock. Old-style cooks leave it pink at the bone, but here the chicken is always cooked until the thickest part of the thigh reads 74 °C. The biggest error is boiling hard, which splits the skin; the water should only shiver. Chef's tip: grate the ginger finely and squeeze out a little of its juice, or the oil turns watery and bitter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cantonese roast goose

Drive out along the coast road to Sham Tseng in the New Territories and the restaurants there have been roasting geese for generations; Hong Kongers make the trip for a plate of it with lai fun noodles, or order a half goose for a family dinner. The skin is thin, crisp and deep mahogany, the meat dark, rich and juicy, scented from the inside with five-spice, bean paste and garlic. Sour plum sauce cuts through the fat. This home version uses an oven-ready goose (head already removed, as it is sold), dried overnight and roasted in a domestic oven. A frequent slip is roasting a goose straight from the wrapper: without its overnight drying and a glaze, the skin stays leathery. Chef's tip: pour off the rendered fat as it collects; it is superb for roasting potatoes or frying rice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Steamed spare ribs with black bean sauce

Small saucers of pork spare ribs, chopped into bite-sized chunks and glistening with fermented black bean and garlic, come out of every Hong Kong teahouse steamer from dawn until lunch. Done right, the meat is plump and tender, slips off the little bone with your chopsticks, and sits in a salty, garlicky, faintly sweet juice that is wonderful spooned over rice. At home it makes an easy weeknight dish with rice and some blanched choi sum. The mistake to avoid is skipping the rinse: soak the ribs in cold water first to draw out the blood, otherwise the sauce turns grey and murky. Chef's tip: ask the butcher to chop the ribs into 3 cm pieces across the bone, and add a little potato starch to the marinade, which gives the teahouse silky coating.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bean curd skin rolls with oyster sauce

A tea-house regular, fu pei guen arrive at Hong Kong dim sum tables in small steamer dishes, sitting in a pool of dark, glossy oyster sauce gravy. The bean curd skin is fried first, so it blisters and wrinkles, then it is braised until it turns soft and silky and soaks up the sauce, while the pork, bamboo shoot and mushroom filling inside stays juicy. The flavour is savoury and gently sweet, best with rice or between har gow and siu mai at Sunday yum cha. A splash of Shaoxing rice wine seasons the filling; there is an alcohol-free swap in the list. Where most home cooks go wrong is soaking the dried bean curd sheets in water, which turns them to rags; wipe them with a damp cloth instead so they just become supple. Chef's tip: make the rolls a day ahead, fry them, and braise them just before serving.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pe pyot (boiled yellow peas)

Before the city wakes, pe pyot sellers pedal through Yangon's townships calling out from bicycle baskets of warm, steaming peas, scooping portions into leaf parcels for families to eat with fried rice, flatbreads or toasted naan. Dried yellow or white peas are soaked overnight and simmered until creamy inside but still whole, then seasoned simply with salt and a spoon of oil fried with shallots. The flavour is mellow, earthy and slightly sweet, and the texture is soft and fluffy, like a good baked potato. Too much bicarbonate of soda is the common slip: a pinch softens the skins, but more turns the peas to soapy mush. Chef's tip: make a double batch; pe pyot keeps for three days in the fridge and turns tomorrow's leftover rice into pea fried rice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pandan chiffon cake

No Singapore birthday table, office tea or visit to grandma's feels complete without a pandan chiffon cake, the pale green ring sold whole at heritage bakeries and neighbourhood confectioners and carried home in a box, and travellers fly home with one in their hand luggage. The crumb is cottony and springy, moist from coconut milk, and the flavour comes from juice squeezed from blended pandan leaves: grassy, vanilla-like and faintly nutty. It is served plain, in tall wedges, with kopi or tea. The usual mistake is greasing the tube pan; a chiffon needs to cling to bare metal to climb, and cooling it upside down is what keeps it tall. Chef's tip: beat the egg whites only to firm, glossy peaks that curl over at the tip; stiff, dry whites won't fold in smoothly and leave white streaks and holes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Steamed scallops with garlic and glass noodles

At the seafood stalls of Sai Kung and Lei Yue Mun, diners pick shellfish from the tanks and the kitchen sends them back in minutes: scallops on the half shell, each sitting on a nest of glass noodles under a heap of garlic, half fried golden and half left raw, steamed just until the scallop turns opaque, then finished with a splash of soy and a hiss of hot oil over spring onions. The noodles soak up all the sweet juices, the scallop is soft and barely firm, and the garlic is both mellow and sharp. Serve one or two each as a starter. Use only very fresh scallops: discard any that smell off or have cracked or broken shells. Most people overcook them; a large scallop needs only 5 to 6 minutes. Chef's tip: frying half the garlic and keeping half raw is the restaurant trick for deep, rounded garlic flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Wu gok (crispy taro dumplings)

Few dim sum crack like wu gok: the shell of mashed taro puffs in the fryer into a golden, honeycomb lace so delicate it shatters at a touch, giving way to a soft, nutty taro layer and a juicy filling of diced pork, shiitake and oyster sauce. Hong Kong teahouses fry them to order through the morning and they are a must at Lunar New Year banquets. Eat them straight away, with a pot of jasmine tea to cut the richness. Lard is the traditional fat in the taro dough; vegetable shortening works too. The classic failure is oil that is too cool or too hot: below about 170 °C the dumplings fall apart, above 190 °C they brown before the lace forms. Chef's tip: chill the shaped dumplings for half an hour so the dough is firm and the lace blooms evenly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Shan pickled mustard greens

Jars of sour, olive-gold mustard greens sit on every noodle stall in Shan State, from Kengtung to the five-day markets around Inle Lake, and families keep a crock going through the cool season. The greens are wilted, rubbed with salt and packed under cloudy water saved from rinsing rice; its starch feeds the natural fermentation, and after a few days the leaves turn crunchy, tangy and pleasantly funky. A spoonful goes on top of Shan noodles, beside sticky rice, into soups, or stir-fried with garlic and chilli as a side dish. Leaves poking above the brine are the main thing that goes wrong, since that is where mould starts; keep everything pressed under the liquid. Chef's tip: use the cloudiest rice water from the first rinse, and add a spoon of cooked rice to get the souring going faster.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Almond tea

Despite the name, there's no tea in hang yan cha, and almonds play no part either: Hong Kong's version is ground from sweet apricot kernels, the 'southern almonds' sold loose in Chinese herbal shops. Old-style dessert shops in Yau Ma Tei and Sheung Wan ladle it hot from big pots after dinner, sometimes with a black sesame swirl, and grandmothers make it for coughs in the dry winter months. It is pale, creamy and smooth as single cream, with a perfumed, marzipan-like aroma and a gentle sweetness from rock sugar. A grainy texture comes from skipping the straining, so press the blended mixture through muslin. Chef's tip: stir constantly once it's on the heat; the rice starch catches on the bottom of the pan within seconds and gives the whole pot a scorched taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Burmese pennywort salad

Myin khwa, 'horse's hoof', is the Burmese name for pennywort, after the shape of its round leaves, and Mandalay grandmothers swear by a plate of it to cool the body during the hot months before the monsoon. The fresh leaves are slightly bitter and grassy, a little like watercress, and they are tossed by hand with toasted chickpea flour, crushed peanuts, crunchy fried garlic and its oil, lime juice, tomato and sliced onion. The salad is served as a side to rich curries, where its clean sourness cuts through the oil. Wet leaves ruin it: the dressing slides off and turns watery, so dry them completely after washing. Chef's tip: look for pennywort sold as gotu kola at Asian and Sri Lankan grocers; young watercress makes a fair stand-in.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bayagyaw (split pea fritters)

Every Yangon tea shop worth its sweet milky tea keeps a tray of these by the counter from dawn, and hawkers sell them by the bag at bus stops. Soaked yellow split peas are ground until coarse, mixed with sliced onion, chilli and a spoon of rice flour, then dropped into hot oil as thin, ragged patties that fry up shatteringly crisp at the edges and nutty in the middle. People snap them into bowls of mohinga, crumble them over noodle and rice salads, or eat them plain with a sharp chilli-garlic vinegar. Blending the peas to a smooth paste is the trap: you lose the gritty texture that makes them crunch and the fritters turn dense. Chef's tip: soak the peas the night before, and fry a test fritter first; if it falls apart, stir in another spoon of rice flour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Singapore curry puff

Spiral curry puffs are a tea-time thing in Singapore, picked up warm in paper bags from Malay kueh stalls at Geylang Serai, from heritage bakeries in Tiong Bahru, or eaten at the 4 pm break with teh tarik. The pastry is the point: two doughs rolled together into a log, sliced, and rolled out so that the cut edge shows tight spirals that shatter into crisp layers when fried. Inside is a soft, peppery filling of potato and onion cooked with curry powder and curry leaves. Shops also sell versions with chicken and a wedge of hard-boiled egg; this one keeps to potato and uses vegetable shortening so the pastry stays dairy-free. The usual mistake is frying in oil that is too hot, which browns the outside while the inner layers stay doughy; a steady medium heat lets the spirals open. Chef's tip: let the filling cool completely and keep it fairly dry, or steam from the potato will burst the seams in the oil.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Steamed custard buns (lau sa bao)

Tear one open at a Hong Kong yum cha table and a stream of golden, buttery custard runs out, which is exactly why the name means 'flowing sand'. The filling is sweet and salty at once, grainy with mashed salted duck egg yolk and rich with butter and milk powder, wrapped in a snow-white, cotton-soft bun. Teahouses from Central to Mong Kok bring them out in bamboo baskets of three, usually near the end of the meal with a pot of pu'er or chrysanthemum tea. Most failures happen when the filling goes into the dough soft: it smears, leaks through the seams and never turns runny inside. Chef's tip: freeze the filling balls until rock hard before wrapping, then serve the buns within a few minutes of steaming, while the butter is still liquid.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

African chicken (Macanese galinha africana)

Macau restaurants have served galinha africana since the 1940s, and the story most often told is that a hotel chef in the city created it from spices that Portuguese sailors brought back from Mozambique and Angola. Today it is a signature at Macanese and Portuguese restaurants from Taipa village to Coloane, eaten at long weekend lunches with rice or crusty bread. Chicken pieces are marinated, grilled until charred, then baked under a thick, brick-coloured sauce of ground peanuts, coconut milk, chilli, paprika, garlic and onion that is rich, nutty and quietly fiery. It is often made with a pale, timid sauce; cook the onion, garlic and paprika slowly until really deep red before the coconut goes in. Chef's tip: marinate the chicken overnight in the fridge so the garlic and chilli reach the bone.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Red bean soup

Hong Kong Cantonese restaurants often send out a small bowl of hung dau sa on the house at the end of a banquet dinner, and dessert shops in Mong Kok serve it hot in winter and chilled with ice in summer. Long simmering breaks the adzuki beans down into a thick, velvety soup, part smooth and part whole beans, scented with the faintly bitter citrus of aged tangerine peel and sweetened with clean-tasting rock sugar. Some add a spoonful of coconut milk, lotus seeds or little glutinous rice balls. Adding the sugar too early is the common misstep, because it keeps the bean skins tough so they never collapse. Chef's tip: soak the beans, then freeze them in their soaking water for a few hours; the ice crystals crack the skins and halve the simmering time.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ginger scallion sauce

Every Hong Kong siu mei shop keeps a tub of this pale green relish beside the chopping block, spooned next to white-cut poached chicken over rice or tossed through plain lo mein at late-night dai pai dong stalls. Smoking-hot oil is poured over raw ginger and spring onion, and the sizzle softens their bite into a sweet, salty, fragrant sauce with a gentle heat from the ginger. It is just as good with steamed tofu, plain congee, poached fish or a bowl of rice on its own. Many home cooks blitz everything in a food processor, which bruises the spring onions into a watery paste; chop them by hand instead. Chef's tip: pour the oil while it is properly hot, shimmering and just starting to smoke, so you hear a loud crackle; lukewarm oil leaves the sauce raw and greasy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sesame balls (jin deui)

No Hong Kong Lunar New Year feels complete without a plate of jin deui, though dim sum restaurants serve these golden globes every day of the year with morning tea. Each one is a thin, crackly shell of fried glutinous rice dough wrapped in toasted sesame seeds, hollow and chewy inside around a spoonful of red bean or lotus seed paste. They are best eaten within minutes of frying, alongside a pot of tea, when the shell still shatters and the seeds smell nutty. Dropping the balls into very hot oil is the classic error: the seeds scorch before the dough expands, and the balls can burst. Chef's tip: start them in moderately hot oil and keep gently pressing them against the side of the pan with a slotted spoon, which makes them swell and turn hollow.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Water chestnut cake

Dim sum halls across Hong Kong lay out amber squares of water chestnut cake on small plates, and every Lunar New Year home kitchens steam a tray to give away to visitors. Set from water chestnut starch and brown slab sugar, the cake is translucent and gently chewy, flecked with pieces of fresh water chestnut that stay crisp and juicy. It is eaten cold and wobbly in summer, or sliced and pan-fried until the outside forms a caramel crust with a soft centre, with a cup of jasmine or oolong tea. A frequent problem is a lumpy, cloudy cake, which comes from pouring the hot syrup into the starch all at once without stirring. Chef's tip: let the cake set completely, ideally overnight in the fridge, before slicing with a knife dipped in water.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Siu yuk (Cantonese crispy roast pork belly)

Hanging in the window of every Hong Kong siu mei shop beside the char siu and roast goose, siu yuk is a slab of pork belly whose skin has been roasted into a glassy, bubbled crackling that crunches loudly over juicy, five-spice-seasoned layers of meat and fat. Shops chop it into cubes for rice boxes at lunch, and whole slabs are carried to temples and family altars at Ching Ming and on festival days. Serve it with English-style mustard and a dish of sugar for dipping, plus rice and greens. The usual error is a damp skin: any moisture left on it steams instead of crackles, so the belly must dry uncovered in the fridge overnight. Chef's tip: prick the skin all over with a sharp skewer until it looks like sandpaper; those tiny holes are where the blisters start.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tainan beef soup

Before dawn in Tainan, workers and night owls fill steamy shops near the slaughterhouse districts for bowls of fresh local beef sliced paper-thin and blanched by a ladle of boiling broth, eaten with rice and a saucer of soy and ginger as a sunrise breakfast. The meat is tender and rosy, the broth clean, sweet and beefy. Traditionally the slices are barely cooked; this recipe gives a safer 30-second dip in simmering broth and a fully cooked option. The pink version is not for pregnant women, young children or anyone with a weakened immune system. People often cut the beef too thick, so it toughens before it cooks through; firm it in the freezer and slice it as thin as you can. Chef's tip: bring the broth to a hard, rolling boil right before every ladle; a broth that has dropped off the boil never cooks the beef evenly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mango pudding

Wobbling out of fish-shaped moulds at the end of a Hong Kong dim sum lunch, mango pudding is just as popular in small cups from dessert chains, which sell it through the sticky summer months when Philippine and Thai mangoes flood the markets. It's smooth, creamy and full of fruit, with pieces of fresh mango through it and a drizzle of cold evaporated milk on top. Restaurants usually set it with gelatine; this version uses agar, which keeps it vegetarian and sets slightly firmer and cleaner. The problem with agar is impatience: it begins to set below about 40 °C, so cold purée added too slowly turns into lumpy strands. Chef's tip: warm the mango purée before you mix it in, then whisk briskly and pour into the moulds right away.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ginger milk curd

Born in the Pearl River Delta town of Shawan in Panyu, Guangdong, ginger milk curd crossed the border to become a favourite of Hong Kong dessert parlours in Jordan and Causeway Bay, ordered hot on a winter night. There's no setting agent: an enzyme in fresh ginger juice curdles hot milk within minutes into a trembling, spoonable custard that's sweet, creamy and warming, with a peppery ginger kick. It is eaten straight from the bowl while still warm, with nothing alongside. Long-life UHT milk is the classic mistake, since its proteins have been changed by the high heat and it simply won't set; use fresh pasteurised whole cow's milk. Chef's tip: use mature, fibrous ginger rather than young pink-tipped ginger, and heat the milk to 70–75 °C, measured with a thermometer.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Black sesame soup

Steaming bowls of inky ji ma wu are a staple of Hong Kong dessert shops on cool evenings, eaten after dinner or as a late-night snack on the way home. The soup is thick enough to coat a spoon, nutty and roasted with a faint bitterness that balances the rock sugar, and so smooth it feels like warm velvet. It's often paired half-and-half in one bowl with almond tea or walnut soup, or served with sweet glutinous rice balls. Over-toasting the sesame is the mistake to avoid; once the seeds scorch, the whole pot tastes acrid. Chef's tip: blend the toasted seeds with water for a full two minutes, until no grit is left between your fingers, before it goes into the pan.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Milkfish belly congee

Tainan breakfast stalls open before six for this, ladling it into bowls beside plates of fried dough sticks and braised fish skin. It is not the thick Cantonese kind: cooked rice is simmered briefly in a light, ginger-scented broth, so the grains stay separate, and slices of rich, boneless milkfish belly are poached in it until just set, then showered with celery, fried shallots and white pepper. Milkfish is farmed in the ponds around Tainan; look for boneless frozen belly in Asian supermarkets, or use sea bass belly. The error most cooks make is boiling the belly hard, which breaks the soft fat and clouds the broth. Chef's tip: lower the slices into the pot skin-side down and keep the liquid just shivering; the belly firms gently and keeps its sweet, silky layer of fat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Steamed egg with minced pork

Hong Kong grandmothers make this on busy weeknights, and it is one of the first dishes children there learn to love: a trembling, glass-smooth egg custard with a layer of soy-seasoned minced pork underneath, served in its dish with a drizzle of soy and sesame oil and a bowl of white rice. It costs little, cooks in minutes and tastes of comfort. Getting the texture right is all about gentle heat. The pitfall nearly everyone hits is steaming on full blast with no lid on the dish, which gives a pitted, spongy surface; cover the bowl and steam on a medium heat instead. Chef's tip: use warm stock or water at 1½ times the volume of the beaten eggs, and strain the mixture through a sieve to remove the bubbles.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Beef brisket noodles

Queues form outside the brisket shops of Central and Sham Shui Po at lunchtime for a bowl of ngau naam min: wobbly chunks of beef brisket, braised for hours with chu hou paste, star anise, cinnamon and dried tangerine peel until the fat and sinew melt, set over springy egg noodles in a separate, clear, peppery broth with daikon. The braise is dark, sticky and aromatic, the broth light and clean, and you dip between them. A slosh of Shaoxing rice wine goes in the braise; an alcohol-free swap is in the ingredient list. Many home cooks cut the brisket before cooking into small cubes, which then shrink and dry out; braise it in big pieces and cut it afterwards. Chef's tip: the braise is better the next day, so make it ahead, chill it and lift off the fat before reheating.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Soy sauce fried noodles

Order this at a Hong Kong cha chaan teng or a dim sum breakfast and it lands on the table glossy, mahogany brown and smelling of the wok, a plate of nothing more than noodles, soy sauce, bean sprouts and spring onions. Thin egg noodles turn springy and slightly crisp at the edges, coated in a sweet-salty soy glaze, while the sprouts stay crunchy. Locals eat it for breakfast with milk tea, or share it at yum cha next to steamed dumplings, often with a dab of chilli oil. Wet noodles are the enemy here: if they go into the wok damp, they steam, clump and turn soggy instead of frying. Chef's tip: toss the noodles with chopsticks or tongs rather than a spatula, lifting and shaking them through the sauce, so the strands stay long and separate.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Galinha à portuguesa (Portuguese chicken)

Puzzlingly, you will not find this in Portugal: galinha à portuguesa belongs to Macau, where cooks mixed a Portuguese idea of a creamy baked chicken with the turmeric, curry powder and coconut milk that came through the Portuguese trading routes from Goa and Malacca. Macanese restaurants and Hong Kong's cha chaan teng serve it bubbling in a clay pot or baking dish, golden on top, with chicken and potatoes in a mild, yellow, gently sweet coconut sauce, always with white rice to soak it up. It is a favourite for family dinners and Christmas tables. The thing people get wrong is boiling the coconut sauce hard, so it splits and turns oily; keep it at a gentle simmer. Chef's tip: brown the chicken well first, and finish under a hot grill for the speckled golden top that Macau restaurants are known for.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lo mai gai (sticky rice in lotus leaf)

Unfold the dried lotus leaf at a Hong Kong yum cha table and a cloud of tea-scented steam rises from a parcel of glossy sticky rice, hiding a centre of soy-braised chicken thigh, shiitake and slices of lap cheong, the sweet Chinese pork sausage. Teahouses from Sheung Wan to Mong Kok sell it from the morning trolleys, and office workers grab one as a filling breakfast with a pot of pu'er. The rice is chewy and sticky but each grain stays whole, and the leaf gives it a faint grassy perfume. Shaoxing rice wine goes into the filling; an alcohol-free swap is given in the ingredient list. The most common mistake is cooking the rice in water like plain rice: soaked glutinous rice must be steamed, or it turns into paste. Chef's tip: wrap the parcels tightly and steam them again from cold or frozen; they reheat better than almost any dim sum.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sweet potato ginger soup

Cheap, warming and ready in under an hour, this is the tong sui Hong Kong families make at home on cold, damp winter nights, ladled out after dinner or before bed rather than ordered in a shop. Chunks of orange, yellow or purple sweet potato turn tender and fudgy in a clear amber syrup made with brown slab sugar and plenty of smashed ginger, so each spoonful is sweet first and then pleasantly hot. Some cooks add a few pitted red dates or a piece of dried tangerine peel. Boiling the sweet potatoes from the start is the usual slip; by the time the ginger has given up its heat, they've collapsed and clouded the syrup. Chef's tip: soak the cut sweet potato in cold water for 10 minutes to rinse off surface starch, and add it only once the ginger broth has simmered for a good 10 minutes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Taiwanese sesame oil chicken soup

When the first cold fronts reach Taipei, steam rises from clay pots of this at street-corner stalls, and families make it at home for new mothers and anyone run down by winter. Bone-in chicken is browned in dark, toasty black sesame oil with a mound of ginger fried until curled and crisp, then simmered in rice wine for a deeply warming, slightly bitter-sweet broth that is eaten with rice or thin wheat noodles. This soup is traditionally made with plenty of rice wine, and simmering does not cook all the alcohol off; for an alcohol-free pot, use the stock option given with the wine. A common error is heating black sesame oil on a high flame: it scorches quickly and makes the whole soup bitter. Chef's tip: fry the ginger slowly in the oil before the chicken goes in, until the slices curl at the edges and look dry; that is where the soup's warmth comes from.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mango shaved ice

Every summer, from late May to September, the dessert shops of Taipei's Yongkang Street have queues that stretch round the corner for one thing: a mountain of feathery milk ice buried under cubes of ripe Aiwen mango. The ice is frozen milk shaved so thinly it melts on the tongue like snow, and it's drenched in mango syrup and sweetened condensed milk, often with a scoop of mango sorbet on top. At home, freeze the milk base the night before; the active work then takes about 15 minutes. Shaving the block straight from the freezer is a common mistake, as it splinters into icy shards; let it soften for 5 minutes so it curls into ribbons. Chef's tip: chill the serving bowls in the freezer too, so the snow holds its height while you add the toppings.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sambal stingray

Weekend evenings at the seafood stalls of Newton, Chomp Chomp and East Coast Lagoon smell of charring banana leaf, and the dish sending up that smoke is usually sambal stingray. A fan-shaped stingray wing is spread thickly with a dark red, slow-fried sambal of chillies, shallots, candlenuts and toasted shrimp paste, laid on banana leaf and cooked over high heat until the sweet, delicate flesh pulls cleanly off the soft cartilage in strands. It comes with calamansi or lime, raw sliced shallots and a little dish of sour chinchalok, and a plate of steamed rice. Underfrying the sambal is the classic error: until the oil splits away and turns red, the paste tastes raw and harsh. If you can't find stingray, skate wing is the best substitute and cooks the same way. Chef's tip: score the thick end of the wing and push sambal into the cuts, so the flavour gets right into the flesh.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Singapore prawn noodle soup

Long before lunch, the big pots at Singapore's prawn mee stalls have been bubbling with fried prawn shells and pork bones, and the regulars from Zion Road to Tiong Bahru arrive with one question: soup or dry? This is the soup version, which is different from the stir-fried Hokkien prawn mee: a sweet, briny, rust-coloured broth poured over yellow noodles and rice vermicelli, topped with halved prawns, tender pork ribs, kangkong and bean sprouts, finished with fried shallots and a dusting of chilli powder. A dish of sliced red chilli in soy sauce sits alongside. The most common mistake is boiling the shells without frying them first, which gives a pale, thin broth; the depth comes from shells toasted in oil until they are deep red and smell like the sea. Chef's tip: freeze prawn shells and heads from other meals over a few weeks so you have a big bag ready for the stock.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Vegetarian mee rebus

Malay hawker stalls at Geylang Serai and the old Adam Road food centre ladle mee rebus from a vat of thick, reddish-brown gravy that is sweet, gently spiced and earthy, poured over springy yellow noodles and heaped with halved boiled egg, fried tau kwa, bean sprouts, green chilli and a squeeze of calamansi. It is eaten any time, but especially on Hari Raya mornings and as a filling lunch. Many stalls build the gravy on dried shrimp and beef stock; this vegetarian version gets its body from mashed sweet potato, its savoury depth from fermented soybean paste (taucheo) and a well-fried spice paste, and uses vegetable stock. The usual mistake is under-frying the rempah, which leaves the gravy tasting raw and sharp; cook it until the oil separates and turns red. Chef's tip: the gravy thickens as it stands, so keep a kettle of hot stock nearby and loosen it to a pourable, velvety consistency just before serving.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Minchi (Macanese minced meat with potatoes)

If one dish says home to Macanese families, the descendants of Portuguese and Chinese Macau, it is minchi: a quick hash of minced beef and pork seasoned with soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce and a touch of sugar, mixed with crisp little cubes of fried potato and crowned with a runny fried egg. It appears on weeknight tables, at Macanese restaurants near Rua do Cunha, and at gatherings of the Macanese community abroad, always with plain white rice. Savoury, slightly sweet and full of crunch, it tastes like the meeting of a Portuguese kitchen and a Cantonese wok. A common error is stirring the potatoes into the meat too early, which makes them soft and floury; fry them separately until crisp and fold them in at the end. Chef's tip: let the mince sit undisturbed for a minute in the hot pan before stirring, so it browns instead of stewing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 81 of 7,762 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 361 of 863