Moroccan bakeries pile their windows with krachel, round, glossy buns of enriched dough perfumed with aniseed, toasted sesame and orange-flower water, and families bake them at home for breakfast, for guests and for feast days. They are soft and pillowy, lightly sweet, with a distinctive liquorice-like scent from the anise and a nutty crunch of sesame on top. Eat them warm with butter and jam, dipped into milky coffee, or with mint tea in the afternoon. The dough needs two rises, about 1 1/2 hours in all. Don't rush the rise: under-proved krachel bake dense and tight instead of soft and fluffy. Chef's tip: lightly toast the aniseed and sesame in a dry pan before adding them to the dough; it doubles their fragrance.
A new country every day, from every cuisine on the site.
Whole bananas roasted on the barbecue until soft and sweet, cut into quarters, put on skewers, half-dipped in melted dark chocolate and rolled in chopped almonds, pistachios and cashews. It's a quick barbecue dessert that children love to help make. Serve them straight away while the chocolate is still soft.
Big pieces of sweet red pepper and fennel tossed with lemon, black pepper and olive oil and roasted until soft and just starting to brown, then topped with black olives, toasted pine nuts and fresh herbs. It works as a side or a light starter, warm or cold. The vegetables can also be roasted on the barbecue jiko.
In Paraguay you hear 'chipa, chipa!' called by vendors with big baskets on buses and street corners, and every family bakes it for Holy Week, when chipa is the food of Good Friday. Cassava starch, a little cornmeal, butter, eggs and a lot of hard cheese are kneaded into a dough scented with aniseed, shaped into rings or small rolls and baked in a hot oven, traditionally a domed clay tatakua. It's chewy, crisp outside and best warm with cocido (toasted yerba tea). Chef's tip: the dough should feel soft and slightly greasy; add milk a spoon at a time, as too much makes the chipa spread flat.
A simple, homely East African dish of butter beans (or kidney beans) tossed with tender cabbage and carrots in butter with deeply browned onions. It's mild, filling and good for every day; the book's Handy Hints note that cabbage is high in fibre and good for digestion. Serve hot with chapati, rice or ugali.
A colourful one-pot rice from Cameroon: long-grain rice simmered in thin coconut milk with tomato paste, chilli, cinnamon-clove powder and thyme, studded with carrot and yellow pepper. It's lightly spiced, creamy and fragrant. Serve it with beans, a vegetable stew or a simple salad.
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.
The famous coast street snack: paper-thin dough wrapped around a samosa chapati, spiced onion and capsicum filling and a beaten egg, folded into a square parcel and fried slowly until crisp and golden. Make them just before serving. Serve hot with a crunchy carrot, cabbage and cucumber salad and red chilli and tamarind chutneys. Contains egg.
Kenya's everyday one-pot meal of kidney beans and corn, cooked with browned onion, tomato paste, chilli, potatoes and cabbage and finished with a knob of butter. It's hearty, comforting and cheap to make. Serve hot with ugali and sukumawiki.
Ugali, East Africa's staple of maize meal cooked into a stiff porridge, given a lift with toasted cumin, butter, fresh coriander and green chilli. Stir it hard and keep it soft. Serve hot with sukumawiki or any stew.
Slices of sweet potato dipped in batter, coated in breadcrumbs and fried until crisp, arranged around lettuce, grated carrot, tomato and sliced hard-boiled egg. The book's Handy Hints say sweet potato is good for the eyes and lifts the mood. Serve with tomato sauce, chilli sauce and mayonnaise; leave out the eggs (and use egg-free mayonnaise) for an egg-free salad.
A soft, savoury pie of blended boiled maize folded into a peppery white sauce and baked until golden on top. It's mild and comforting, a little like a corn pudding, and children love it. The eggs are optional: they make it set firmer. Serve hot with a salad or tomato stew.
A mild, golden Ethiopian lentil sauce (kik alicha) of split bengal gram lentils simmered with onion, ginger, garlic, a pinch of turmeric and green chilli until thick and creamy. It's gentle and soothing next to the fiery missir wat. Serve hot with injera.
A spicy Ethiopian stew of masoor lentils cooked down with browned onions, garlic, ginger, fresh tomato and tomato paste, and finished with red chilli and black pepper. It's thick, rich and hot. Serve with injera, alongside atter kik and azifa.
Every 1 January, Haitian families from Port-au-Prince to Brooklyn wake up to soup joumou. It marks independence from France on 1 January 1804: under French rule, enslaved Haitians cooked this pumpkin soup but were forbidden to eat it, so the free people of the new nation made it their own as a dish of freedom. In 2021 it was added to UNESCO's list of the intangible cultural heritage of humanity. The base is a velvety purée of joumou (Caribbean pumpkin) with epis, and in it simmer chunks of carrot, potato, cabbage, celery and turnip, with pasta and a squeeze of lime. It's usually made with beef; this vegetable version is full and golden, rich enough for the day. Chef's tip: roast half the pumpkin before puréeing it; the caramelised edges give the soup the depth that slow-cooked meat usually provides.
No South African braai is finished without braaibroodjies, the sandwiches that go onto the grid once the coals have died down, from Cape Town to the Highveld. White bread is buttered on the outside and filled with cheddar, tomato, onion and a thin smear of apricot jam, a sweet-and-savoury combination every South African swears by. They come off the fire smoky, crisp and oozing. A frying pan or griddle works when there's no braai. Chef's tip: toast them over gentle, ashen coals and turn often; fierce heat burns the bread before the cheese inside has melted.
Injera is the soft, spongy, slightly sour flatbread eaten with Ethiopian stews: you tear it and scoop the food up with it. This home version uses rice and plain flour fermented with a home-made starter over a few days, then cooked on one side until covered in tiny holes. Serve rolled and sliced with missir wat, azifa and atter kik. Any fermented batter left over keeps in the fridge for the next batch.
A thick, tangy Ethiopian sauce of soft masoor lentils blended with onion, garlic, green capsicum, chilli and mustard. It's eaten cool or warm as part of a spread of injera and stews. Serve hot azifa with injera.
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.
Champurrado is a chocolate atole, the thick, hot corn drink Mexicans have drunk since before the Spanish arrived. Masa harina is whisked into water and milk with Mexican chocolate (stone-ground with sugar and cinnamon) and piloncillo, a dark unrefined cane sugar, and cooked until velvety and spoon-coating. It is drunk on cold mornings with tamales or conchas, and above all during Día de Muertos and Christmas posadas. Chef's tip: always dissolve the masa harina in cold liquid before it meets the hot pot, and whisk constantly once it's in; dumped into hot milk it seizes into lumps.
A Mombasa street favourite: potatoes cooked in a thin, garlicky tomato and raw mango sauce, ladled into bowls and piled with crushed potato crisps, crunchy sev and a fresh coconut and mango chutney. Everyone builds their own bowl to taste. Serve straight away so the crisps stay crunchy.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
A simple Swahili dish of tender cassava and sweetcorn simmered in thick coconut milk with green chillies, a little raw mango and lemon. It's creamy, mild and filling. Serve hot as a side or a light meal.
This is a pork sandwich. The Cubano was the lunch of cigar workers going between Havana and Tampa, and Miami's Little Havana cafés still press it to order on a hot plancha. Soft Cuban bread is layered with mojo roast pork, boiled ham, Swiss cheese, dill pickles and yellow mustard, then flattened and toasted until the cheese melts and the crust shatters. It is the best use of leftover lechón asado. Drink it with a café cubano. The usual mistake is pressing on too high a heat, which burns the bread before the middle is hot. Chef's tip: butter the outside of the bread, not the inside, and weigh it down with a heavy pan so it crisps evenly.
An easy no-churn ice cream of coconut milk, sweetened condensed milk and evaporated milk, scented with nutmeg or cardamom and a little rose. Whisking it once while it freezes keeps it smooth and fluffy. Garnish with shredded coconut and a sprig of mint.
Gâteau patate are little half-moon pastries made from mashed sweet potato dough and filled with sweetened grated coconut and cardamom, then fried until golden. They are a teatime treat in Mauritian homes and are sold at markets and fairs, especially around Divali and the end of the year. Chef's tip: use the sweet potatoes while still warm to make the dough; cold mash needs more flour and the gâteaux turn heavy.
Hanging in long glossy strips in the windows of Guangzhou's siu mei shops, char siu is the roast pork Cantonese families pick up on the way home to put on rice, noodles or into steamed buns. The outside is lacquered, sweet and a little charred at the edges; the inside stays juicy, savoury and faintly scented with five-spice. Shoulder (pork butt) is the cut to use, because its marbling keeps the strips moist through a hot oven. Marinate it overnight in the fridge, roast it the next day and eat it warm with steamed rice and blanched greens, or cold in fried rice and noodle soups. Chef's tip: save the honey for the last ten minutes; brushed on at the start it burns black long before the pork is cooked.
Chilli crab was first sold from a pushcart on the Kallang river in the 1950s and is now the dish visitors queue for along Singapore's East Coast seafood strip. Big mud crabs are cut up, wok-fried and simmered in a thick, sweet, tangy and gently hot sauce of chilli, tomato and garlic, which is then silked with beaten egg. Everyone eats with their hands and mops up the sauce with fried or steamed mantou buns. It is a weekend or celebration meal, messy and loud. Buy crabs live or freshly cooked the same day from a fishmonger you trust. Discard any live crab that doesn't move, smells of ammonia or has a cracked, leaking shell. The common mistake is boiling the sauce after adding the egg, which scrambles it into lumps; pour it in a thin stream over a low heat. Chef's tip: ask the fishmonger to clean and quarter the crab for you, and crack each claw lightly with the back of a cleaver so the sauce soaks in.
In Boston and along the Massachusetts and Maine coast, chowder is served in paper cups at the harbour, in bread bowls and at every clam shack with oyster crackers on the side. Fresh clams are steamed open, their briny juice becomes the stock, and potatoes, onion and a little smoky bacon (pork) simmer in it before cream goes in. It is creamy but not gluey. Chef's tip: thicken it only lightly; chowder should coat a spoon, not stand up in it.
When the spring bamboo shoots push up through the hillsides of Huizhou, farmhouse kitchens braise them with chunks of the region's cured ham. The salty, deep-flavoured ham seasons the broth, and the shoots soak it up while keeping their crunch and gentle sweetness. Serve it as a side dish with rice and other plates, or as a light lunch by itself. Fresh bamboo shoots must be peeled and boiled before use, because raw shoots contain natural toxins; canned shoots are already cooked and only need rinsing. Chef's tip: taste the broth before adding any salt, as the ham often brings all the salt the dish needs.
Beijing's famous roast duck is a banquet showpiece, carved at the table in restaurants near Qianmen and eaten in thin wheat pancakes with sticks of cucumber, spring onion and a smear of sweet bean sauce. Restaurants use hanging ovens and inflate the skin with air; at home a scald with boiling water, a sweet vinegar glaze and a night uncovered in the fridge get you most of the way there. The prize is the lacquered, glass-crisp skin, with the meat underneath still juicy. Serve it as the centrepiece of a family feast, followed by a simple soup made from the carcass. Chef's tip: dry the duck uncovered on a rack in the fridge for at least 12 hours; a dry skin is the whole secret.
Created in a Harbin government kitchen in the early 1900s to please Russian guests, this is the north-east's own sweet-and-sour pork, and every Dongbei restaurant still serves a heaped plate of it. Large, thin slices of tenderloin go into a thick potato-starch coating, are fried twice until they shatter, then are tossed in a pale, sharp sugar-and-vinegar glaze with shreds of ginger, carrot and coriander. Unlike the red Cantonese version there is no ketchup and no pineapple; the flavour is cleaner and more sour. Bring it to the table the second it leaves the wok, alongside steamed rice and a cold cucumber salad. Chef's tip: soak the potato starch in water for an hour and pour off the clear liquid; the thick paste underneath gives the crispest coating.
Puff puff is the snack of Nigerian parties, school gates and roadside stalls: a sweet yeast batter scooped by hand into hot oil, where it swells into soft, chewy, golden balls. Across the border in Ghana the same treat is called bofrot (or 'boflot'), often a little larger and spiced with more nutmeg, and sold in clear bags on Accra's streets; we treat them as one dish here. Eat them warm on their own, or with a dusting of sugar. Chef's tip: the batter is ready only when it has doubled and is full of bubbles; under-proved batter gives heavy, greasy balls.
In New Orleans, red beans and rice is what Monday tastes like: the pot used to go on the back of the stove on washday with the ham bone left from Sunday, and plenty of Creole kitchens still cook it on Mondays. This version contains pork: a smoked ham hock and sliced andouille sausage simmer with kidney beans and the 'holy trinity' of onion, celery and green pepper until some beans collapse into a creamy gravy. Serve over white rice with hot sauce and a piece of cornbread. Chef's tip: when the beans are tender, mash a ladleful against the side of the pot; that is what makes them creamy.
Tiramisù ('pick me up') was created in Treviso, in the Veneto, around the 1960s and 70s; the restaurant Le Beccherie is the best-known claimant. The original is simple: savoiardi biscuits dipped in espresso, layered with a cream of egg yolks, sugar and mascarpone, and dusted with cocoa. No alcohol and no cream in the Treviso version, which is different from this site's Baileys tiramisu. It is best made the morning of, or the day before. Because the eggs are raw, use the freshest you can find, or pasteurised eggs. Chef's tip: beat the yolks and sugar for a full 5 minutes until pale and thick as custard; that is what makes the cream light without whipped cream.
Bienmesabe, 'it tastes good to me', is the festive dessert of Cumaná and the eastern Venezuelan coast, made for Christmas, birthdays and first communions. Layers of sponge fingers soaked in sweet wine are spread with a thick, silky coconut cream thickened with egg yolks, then crowned with soft meringue and a dusting of cinnamon. It is rich, tropical and best made a day ahead. Chef's tip: cook the coconut cream gently and stir constantly once the yolks go in; if it boils hard the yolks scramble and it turns grainy.
Alouda is the cold, sweet milk drink sold from stalls in the Port Louis central market and at beaches all over Mauritius, especially on hot afternoons. Vanilla- or rose-scented milk is poured over soaked tookmaria (sweet basil) seeds and cubes of agar jelly, and often topped with a scoop of ice cream. It is a cousin of the Indian falooda. Because the jelly is set with agar agar, it is vegetarian. Chef's tip: soak the basil seeds for a full 20 minutes until each one has a thick, clear coat; dry seeds stick in the throat.
Älplermagronen is what dairymen cooked in the summer huts of central Switzerland, from Uri to the Bernese Oberland, using what they carried up and what the cows gave: pasta, potatoes, cream and their own cheese. Today it is a fixture of mountain restaurants and a quick weeknight supper across German-speaking Switzerland, always eaten with a bowl of warm apple sauce (Apfelmus) on the side, the sweet-sour fruit cutting the rich cheese. Many versions scatter bacon over the top; this one leaves it out and leans on a heap of slow-browned onions for depth. Use cheese made with vegetarian rennet. Chef's tip: cook the potatoes and pasta in the same pot, adding the macaroni once the potatoes are half done, so they finish together and the starchy water helps the sauce cling.
Halved mushrooms cooked on the tawa in a rich masala of browned onions, ginger, garlic and puréed tomato, finished with a little cream and dried fenugreek. It's quick, creamy and full of flavour. Serve hot with naan, paratha or bread straight off the barbecue.
Mansaf is Jordan's national dish and the centrepiece of its weddings, Eid gatherings and big family days, set down on a huge round tray for everyone to eat from together. Bone-in lamb is simmered until tender in a sauce of jameed, the dried, salted goat's-milk yogurt of the Bedouin, then served on thin shrak bread and turmeric-tinted rice, scattered with almonds and pine nuts and drenched in more of the hot sauce. If you can't find jameed, a mix of thick yogurt and labneh gives a fair stand-in. Chef's tip: stir the yogurt sauce in one direction constantly as it heats, and never let it boil hard before the lamb goes in; that is what keeps it smooth.
A complete barbecue meal on one big tawa: a tangy wheat and vegetable mix with three chutneys, crisp cheesy corn balls, baked stuffed capsicums and creamy cheesy pasta, all sizzling under hot barbecue sauce. Every part can be made ahead and finished on the jiko. It's a healthy and filling meal by itself.
Chambo is a tilapia from Lake Malawi, and fried chambo with nsima (stiff maize porridge) is what visitors to Mangochi, Cape Maclear and Nkhata Bay are served at lakeside lunches. The fish is fried or grilled whole, then topped with a fresh tomato and onion relish; the nsima is pinched off and used to scoop up the fish and juice. The mistake is skipping the relish, which keeps the meal fresh; make it while the fish fries. Chef's tip: any whole tilapia or sea bream works if you can't find chambo.
Vegetarian seekh kebabs of soya chunks, potato and paneer, spiced with garlic, ginger, green chilli, chaat masala and white pepper, pressed onto skewers and cooked over charcoal until browned. They're meaty in texture and very moreish. Serve with spring onion and yogurt dip or any chutney; they can also be deep fried.
A soft, dimpled focaccia topped with thinly sliced red onion, crumbled paneer and mozzarella, torn basil, chilli flakes and crunchy sea salt, all drizzled with olive oil. It's crisp underneath and airy inside. Cut it into pieces and serve hot alongside barbecue dishes and salads.
Sabudana khichdi is the dish that sees Maharashtra through every vrat (fast), from Navratri to Ekadashi, but it's so good that people eat it any day of the week. Soaked sago pearls are tossed in a pan with crushed roasted peanuts, cubes of potato, cumin and green chilli until each pearl turns glassy and separate, then finished with lemon and coriander. It's soft, chewy, nutty and gently hot. Fasting rules vary from family to family, so check yours; this version uses rock salt and no asafoetida, onion or garlic. Traditionally it's cooked in ghee; use ghee instead of oil if you aren't keeping it vegan. Chef's tip: soak the sago in just enough water to cover by the height of the pearls themselves, no more; too much water is the reason khichdi turns into one sticky lump.
Party skewers of paneer, onion petals, capsicum, tomato, mushroom and cassava, each marinated in a thick, garlicky tandoori yogurt marinade and grilled over charcoal until charred at the edges. Make the marinade the day before and string the skewers just before the barbecue. Serve hot with mint and yogurt chutney.
Soft vegetarian seekh-style kebabs of sweetcorn, kidney beans and potato with fenugreek, spinach, ginger and green chilli, pressed onto skewers and browned over charcoal. They're crisp outside and soft inside. Serve hot with green chutney and mint and yogurt chutney.
Tender peas in their pods tossed with chilli, ginger, garlic and lemon, sealed in foil and steamed on the barbecue. Everyone shells their own at the table and gets the spice on their fingers. Use the youngest, sweetest pods you can find.
A big tawa of potato cubes tossed with a fragrant tempering of mustard, cumin, coriander seeds, aniseed, cloves, cinnamon and black pepper, then onions, ginger, garlic and two kinds of chilli. It's hot, aromatic and great as a barbecue starter. Swap the potatoes for steamed paneer cubes for a change.
Mbaazi wa nazi: soft pigeon peas cooked in thick coconut milk with onion, raw mango, ginger-chilli paste and a pinch of turmeric until creamy. It's mild, rich and comforting. Serve with mamri (mandazi) for the classic Swahili pairing.
Kaimati are bite-size Swahili doughnuts: a yeasted cardamom and coconut batter dropped by the spoonful into hot oil, then dipped in a fragrant saffron, cardamom and rose syrup while still hot. They're crisp outside and soft inside. Serve with tea.
Golden fritters of coarsely ground black-eyed bean and green gram lentils with fenugreek, spinach, coriander, spring onion and chilli. They're crunchy outside and fluffy inside, and they go into Zanzibar mix and Coastal Mombasa mix too. Serve hot with coconut chutney.
Ambasha is the round, slightly sweet festival bread of Tigray and Amhara, baked for holidays such as Easter (Fasika) and Meskel and for welcoming guests. The dough is scented with fenugreek, cardamom and coriander seed, and before baking the top is cut with a knife into a wheel-like pattern, so it comes out of the oven looking like a decorated plate; it is brushed with niter kibbeh and berbere and served torn into pieces with coffee. Chef's tip: cut the pattern deep (about 1 cm), or it disappears as the bread rises in the oven.
Maji ya bungo is a favourite Zanzibar street drink made from the orange, sweet-sour pulp of the bungo fruit (Saba comorensis), soaked off the seeds, blended with sugar and water and strained. It's tangy, fruity and very refreshing. Serve well chilled.
Ehime prefecture on Shikoku farms more red sea bream than anywhere else in Japan, and tai-meshi is its signature rice. Around Matsuyama and the old fishing town of Hojo, a whole grilled fish is laid on seasoned rice and cooked in the same pot, then the flesh is flaked through the grains at the table. Down the coast in Uwajima the same name means raw bream on hot rice, but this is the cooked kind. Sea bream is a fish for celebrations in Japan, so the dish turns up at weddings and New Year as well as in station lunch boxes. Chef's tip: grill the fish briefly before it goes in the pot; the browned skin adds a toasty flavour to the rice and keeps the fish from smelling of the sea.
Every Malaysian household seems to have someone who makes pineapple tarts in the weeks before Chinese New Year or Hari Raya, and the plastic tubs of them go round every visit and open house. In Hokkien the pineapple, 'ong lai', sounds like 'fortune comes', which is why they matter so much at the New Year. This is the rolled 'nastar' style: a little ball of golden, slow-cooked pineapple jam, scented with cinnamon, star anise and clove, wrapped in rich, crumbly butter pastry. Chef's tip: grate the pineapple by hand rather than blending it; the fibres give the jam its chewy body.
Koat pitha is Mizoram's favourite tea-time snack, sold in Aizawl's bakeries and street stalls and fried at home whenever bananas go soft: mashed ripe banana is mixed with rice flour and jaggery into a thick batter and fried in spoonfuls until crisp, brown and puffed. Inside they are soft and sticky-sweet. They are served at church gatherings and with red tea on wet afternoons. Chef's tip: the riper the bananas the better; spotted, almost black ones give the most flavour and sweetness.
Quesadillas de hongos are sold from comales at markets all over central Mexico, from Mexico City to the forests around Toluca where wild mushrooms are picked in the rains. The mushrooms are fried hard with onion, garlic and green chilli and finished with epazote, a pungent herb with notes of mint, anise and citrus that is the signature of central Mexican cooking. Folded into corn tortillas with stringy cheese, they are earthy, juicy and a little hot. Serve with salsa roja and lime. Use a cheese made with vegetarian rennet; low-moisture mozzarella is a good stand-in for Oaxaca cheese. Chef's tip: fry the mushrooms until all their liquid has gone; wet mushrooms make the tortilla soggy.
Ceviche is Lima's great obsession, eaten at lunchtime in cevicherías all along the coast; this vegetarian ceviche de champiñones keeps everything that makes it thrilling except the fish. Raw mushrooms are sliced thin and tossed at the last minute in leche de tigre, the bright, peppery marinade of lime, garlic, ginger, celery and ají limo, so they turn silky but still bite back. Red onion brings crunch, coriander freshness, and on the plate it gets the classic Lima company: a slice of sweet potato, a wedge of corn on the cob and a handful of toasted cancha. Serve it as a starter on a hot day, straight away. Chef's tip: squeeze the limes gently by hand and stop before the pith; pressing hard or using a squeezer that crushes the peel makes the leche de tigre bitter.
Mazamorra morada is a deep purple pudding from Lima, made by boiling Andean purple corn with pineapple peel and spices and then thickening the dark juice with sweet potato starch and fruit. It is sold in little cups at markets and street carts, and in Lima it is eaten all year but above all in October, often spooned into the same bowl as rice pudding, a combination called el clásico. It is fruity, gently spiced and wobbly, like a thick jam pudding. Dried purple corn (maíz morado) is sold in Latin shops and online; purple corn powder works too. Chef's tip: dissolve the starch in cold water and stir it in off the boil; tipping it into a bubbling pan makes lumps that never smooth out.
Sweet potato is not old Moroccan tradition, but today it is sold in every souk from Agadir to Meknes and turns up in modern home tagines alongside the classic chickpeas, dried apricots and ras el hanout. This version leans on the sweet-and-spiced style of Fez and Marrakech cooking: the sweet potato melts slightly into the sauce, the chickpeas keep their bite and a handful of apricots adds little pockets of tang. It is filling enough for a weekend lunch with couscous or bread, and it reheats beautifully the next day. Chef's tip: bloom the ras el hanout in the oil for 30 seconds before the liquid goes in; raw spice blends taste dusty, cooked ones taste round.
Satay smoke drifts along Javanese streets every evening, where sellers fan charcoal grills set up on the pavement and serve skewers with peanut sauce, rice cakes and sliced shallot. Tofu and tempeh are naturals for it: they drink up a sweet-savoury marinade of palm sugar, tamari, coriander and garlic and pick up dark, sticky char at the edges. The sauce here is cooked until smooth and glossy, sweeter and milder than the grainy dressing on gado-gado, made for dipping. Chef's tip: soak the bamboo skewers for 30 minutes and brush the satay with marinade as it grills — the sugar caramelises into the dark, slightly burnt edges that make satay taste like satay.
Coffee was born in Ethiopia's south-western forests around Kaffa and Jimma, and buna is still a ceremony as much as a drink: in homes from Jimma to Addis Ababa, a woman of the house roasts green beans in a pan over charcoal, carries the smoking pan around so guests can breathe in the aroma, grinds them, and brews the coffee in a clay pot called a jebena. It is served in small handleless cups with sugar (or salt or butter in the countryside), alongside popcorn or dabo kolo, and poured three times: abol, tona and baraka. The ceremony takes the best part of an hour and is about conversation. Chef's tip: let the jebena stand for a few minutes before pouring so the grounds settle, and pour in one steady stream without stopping.
After a heavy tagine or couscous, Moroccan families in the orange-growing Souss valley and around Marrakech often skip pastries and bring out a plate of sliced oranges instead, splashed with orange blossom water and dusted with cinnamon. It is the simplest dessert there is, but when the oranges are cold and juicy it tastes like a perfume of spice and flowers. Scatter over toasted almonds or chopped dates to make it more filling. Chef's tip: cut off every bit of white pith; even a thin ring of it makes the slices bitter.
Baozi are breakfast across China: commuters in Shanghai, Beijing and small towns alike queue at steaming stalls for a couple of buns and a cup of soya milk. Vegetable baozi (su cai bao) are a standard on every counter, usually filled with greens, mushroom, tofu and glass noodles. Making them is a weekend job, but they freeze beautifully and reheat in 10 minutes. Chef's tip: let the shaped buns rise until they look puffy and feel light before steaming; under-proved buns come out dense and wrinkled.
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