Meat-free meals with plenty of protein from paneer, dal, beans, tofu and eggs. (468 recipes)
A crunchy salad of red, yellow and green peppers with roasted peanuts, cucumber, carrots and celery, dressed with lemon, dill, mint and celery leaves. Just before serving, olive oil mixed with sesame seeds is poured over the top. It's colourful, filling and full of protein.
Sprouted beans are ladled out with their cooking liquor in Cairo homes when the weather turns cold or someone is feeling run down, and Egyptians swear by the broth as a pick-me-up. The beans are soaked and left to sprout for a few days, then simmered with onion, garlic and cumin into a light, earthy soup that is sharpened at the table with plenty of lemon. You can eat the beans with a spoon or pop them from their skins. Allow 3 to 4 days for sprouting, although the hands-on work is only about 20 minutes. People with G6PD deficiency (favism) must not eat fava beans. Chef's tip: stop the sprouting when the shoots are about 1 cm long; longer sprouts taste grassy and bitter.
A North Indian staple that comes together from the store cupboard. Toasted cumin, slow-softened onion and a good spoonful of garam masala give tinned chickpeas real depth. Serve with rice, naan or a stack of warm rotis.
On a hot July night in any Tokyo izakaya, the first plate to arrive is often a cold block of tofu: hiyayakko, a summer staple that takes five minutes and no cooking. Silky tofu sits in a little pool of soy and is heaped with fresh ginger, spring onion and shiso, so it is cool, creamy and sharp at once. Bonito flakes are the usual topping; here crisp nori and sesame keep it vegan. The common mistake is serving it wet: blot the tofu, or the water dilutes the soy into a pale puddle. Chef's tip: buy the freshest silken (kinugoshi) tofu you can find and chill it well in its water, since this dish is only as good as the tofu.
Nyemba are cowpeas, grown on almost every rural plot in Zimbabwe, and the stewed beans are an everyday relish eaten at lunch or supper with a mound of sadza (white maize meal). Dried cowpeas are boiled until soft, then cooked down with onion, tomato and a generous spoon of peanut butter (dovi), which makes the sauce thick, nutty and rich. The usual mistake is adding salt and tomato too soon, which can keep the beans from softening; season once they are tender. Pressure cooker option: cook the soaked cowpeas for 12 minutes at pressure. Chef's tip: stir the peanut butter in off the boil and let it melt slowly; boiling it hard can make it gritty.
Pasulj is the beloved bean soup of Serbia, served in Belgrade's old taverns and in army and school canteens, and especially on Thursdays and cold weekends. Usually it is cooked with smoked pork ribs or bacon; this vegetarian version gets its smoky depth from smoked paprika instead, and it is the version cooked on Orthodox fasting days. White beans simmer slowly with onion, carrot, bay and paprika until creamy and thick enough to stand a spoon in. Eat it with bread and pickled peppers. Suitable as part of a balanced diet. About 310 kcal and 40 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is thickening with too much flour roux; mashing some beans gives the same body and keeps it gluten free. Pressure cooker option: 25 minutes at pressure. Chef's tip: change the water after the first boil, as Serbian cooks do, for a softer, gentler soup.
Tom Brown is the porridge Ghanaian babies grow up on: a blend of roasted maize, groundnuts (peanuts) and soya beans, ground fine and sold in bags at Makola Market in Accra and in clinics' nutrition corners, or roasted and milled at home. Cooked with water it becomes a smooth, beige porridge that smells of toasted corn and peanuts, and it is rich in protein and energy. It is loved in Nigeria too. For babies there is no salt, sugar, evaporated milk or honey. It contains peanuts and soya. Chef's tip: early, regular peanut is recommended for most babies, but if your baby has severe eczema or a known egg allergy, talk to your health visitor or doctor before the first spoonful.
Walk into any dhaba on Lahore's Mall Road or in the lanes behind Anarkali after dark and daal mash is on the counter beside the tandoor, a pot of split white urad lentils cooked until each grain is soft but still separate, never a soup. It is eaten scooped up with hot tandoori roti, with a heap of raw onion rings and a squeeze of lemon, and it is rich enough to stand in for meat at a weeknight dinner. The flavour comes almost entirely from the last minute: a ladle of ghee crackling with garlic, ginger, green chilli and cumin poured over at the table. The usual mistake is adding too much water, which turns it to mush; it should cook in just enough to be absorbed. Chef's tip: soak the dal for 30 minutes and stir it as little as possible once it is in the pot, so the grains stay whole.
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.
Aamti is the everyday dal of Maharashtrian homes from Pune to Kolhapur: toor dal cooked soft, soured with kokum, sweetened with a little jaggery and seasoned with goda masala, the dark, aromatic spice blend of the state. It's thinner than a Punjabi dal and has a gentle sweet-sour-hot balance. Before the tempering goes in, many cooks scoop out a bowl of the plain cooked dal for varan bhaat, the simple turmeric-yellow dal with rice, ghee and lemon that every Maharashtrian child grows up on and that starts every festive thali. Chef's tip: add the kokum near the end and taste after 5 minutes; it keeps releasing sourness, and it's easy to overshoot.
Đậu sốt cà chua is one of the most-loved home dishes in Vietnam, cooked on weeknights from Hanoi to Saigon and eaten with steamed rice and a simple vegetable soup. Golden fried tofu is simmered in a sauce of fresh tomatoes cooked down with shallot and garlic until sweet, tangy and glossy. Fish sauce is replaced here with soy sauce. Chef's tip: cook the tomatoes on their own until they collapse completely into a thick sauce before the tofu goes back in; if you rush this, you get watery pink tomatoes instead of a rich, clinging sauce.
Jerk was born in the hills of Portland parish, where Maroon communities slow-cooked spiced meat over pimento wood, and Boston Bay is still its home today. The heart of it is the wet marinade: spring onion, thyme, scotch bonnet and plenty of pimento (allspice), blitzed into a coarse green-brown paste. Here it clings to slabs of pressed tofu and chunky vegetables that are charred until sticky at the edges, smoky, hot and fragrant. Serve with rice and peas, fried ripe plantain or festival and a squeeze of lime. Chef's tip: toast whole pimento berries in a dry pan and grind them yourself; ready-ground allspice tastes flat, and the warm clove-pepper perfume of fresh pimento is what makes jerk taste like jerk.
A high-protein, low-calorie uppma made with soya granules instead of semolina. The soaked soya is tossed with grated carrot, cabbage, onion, ginger and green chillies over a crackling tempering of cumin, urad dal and asafoetida, then finished with lemon and coriander. Serve hot for breakfast or a light supper.
A soft, spongy, low-calorie dhokra made from soaked black-eyed beans blended to a batter with fresh fenugreek, spinach and green chilli-ginger paste, lifted with fruit salt and steamed. Cut into squares and serve with green chutney as a snack or light meal.
Soft wheat and maize flatbreads rolled around a spicy kidney bean and potato filling, baked in a fiery tomato and red chilli sauce and topped with sour cream and cheese. Serve with extra hot sauce, sour cream, spring onions or salad.
A party-sized pot of chickpeas and golden paneer cubes with stir-fried capsicum, in a deep, glossy gravy built on browned onion, ginger, garlic, tamarind and a little jaggery. Coarsely ground black pepper and halved coriander seeds in the tempering give it warmth. Serve hot with naan or bhatura.
Sprouting whole green grams makes them crunchier, quicker to cook and more nutritious. All you need is muslin, water and a warm spot, and they're ready in 3–4 days. Use them in salads, bhel, usal and stir-fries. Any other whole pulse sprouts the same way.
Tempe goreng is the everyday protein of Central and East Java, fried fresh in homes and warungs morning and evening and eaten with rice, sambal and a vegetable such as urap or sayur asem. The tempeh is soaked briefly in a salty garlic and coriander-seed brine, then fried until the outside is crunchy and the inside nutty and firm. The mistake people make is slicing it too thick, which leaves a bitter, raw-tasting centre; keep slices about 5 mm thick. If you soak it for longer than 15 minutes, do it in the fridge. Chef's tip: fry in oil that comes halfway up the slices and turn them only once, so the crust stays whole.
From hostel kitchens in Pune to the egg carts outside Chennai railway stations, the masala omelette is what India makes when breakfast, a late supper or a tiffin filling has to be ready in minutes. Eggs are beaten with raw onion, tomato, green chilli, coriander and a pinch of turmeric, then spread thin on a hot tawa so the edges crisp and the middle stays soft and juicy. Eat it folded with buttered toast, rolled in a chapati, or beside dal and rice. The usual mistake is chopping the onion and tomato too coarsely: big pieces stop the egg setting round them and the omelette tears when you flip it. Chef's tip: salt the eggs only at the last second before they hit the pan, because salted tomato weeps water into the batter and the omelette turns spongy.
Anda curry is the North Indian weeknight curry that comes together when the fridge holds little more than eggs, onions and tomatoes, served across Punjab and Uttar Pradesh with rotis, jeera rice or paratha. Hard-boiled eggs are scored and fried with turmeric and chilli so they get a speckled, golden skin, then simmered in a gravy of browned onion, ginger, garlic, tomato and garam masala. The common mistake is under-browning the onions: pale onions give a thin, raw-tasting gravy, so cook them until they are deep golden. Chef's tip: make shallow cuts in the boiled eggs before frying, so the masala seeps into the whites.
Sukhi (dry) moong dal is made in Rajasthan and Uttar Pradesh when there is no time for a soupy dal, or to roll into parathas and pack for journeys; Marwari families often serve it at weddings with kachoris. Soaked yellow moong is cooked with just enough water to soften it while keeping the grains whole, then lifted with amchur, ginger and a ghee tempering. The mistake to avoid is too much water or stirring hard, which turns it into a mushy khichdi; add water a little at a time and fold gently. Chef's tip: soak the dal for at least 30 minutes, which is why this dish takes longer than the cooking alone. It is one of the few dals that is just as good at room temperature.
Egg stew is the fastest stew in a Ghanaian kitchen, made in Accra and Kumasi homes for breakfast or a weeknight dinner: onions, fresh tomatoes and red pepper are cooked down in oil until thick and sweet, then beaten eggs are stirred through so they set in soft, sauce-coated curds. It is eaten with boiled yam or green plantain (ampesi), rice, or a soft bread roll. The mistake that makes it taste raw and sharp is adding the egg too soon: the tomato base must fry until the oil rises to the top. Many cooks use a stock cube, which is often chicken-based, so this version uses a vegetable cube. Chef's tip: pour the eggs in a thin stream and wait 30 seconds before the first stir, so they form large, tender pieces instead of crumbs.
In Iran the word omelet means something quite different from a folded French one: ripe tomatoes are cooked down in oil with a little onion and turmeric until jammy, then eggs are stirred through so they set in soft streaks of red and gold. It is the classic quick dinner of Tehran apartments and student dorms, eaten from the pan with lavash and a plate of herbs. The mistake that makes it watery is adding the eggs before the tomato juices have cooked away; wait until the sauce is thick and the oil sizzles again. Chef's tip: grate the tomatoes on a box grater and throw away the skins, so the base melts down in minutes.
Crepioca is the crêpe that took over Brazilian breakfast tables and gym cafés from São Paulo to Recife: one egg whisked with a spoonful of tapioca starch, cooked thin in a non-stick pan and folded round cheese and tomato. It is naturally gluten free, ready in ten minutes and just as good as a late, light supper as it is with morning coffee. The common mistake is pouring the batter without a last whisk: tapioca starch sinks to the bottom of the bowl in seconds, and the crêpe then comes out patchy and gluey. Mozzarella is often made with animal rennet, so choose a vegetarian mozzarella if that matters to you. Chef's tip: let the pan heat for a full minute before the batter goes in, so the crêpe sets at once and slides free when you shake the pan.
In Dhaka homes dim bhaji is what appears when there is rice and daal on the table but nothing else: a thin, lacy omelette packed with red onion, green chilli and coriander, fried in mustard oil until the edges crisp. It is eaten folded over a plate of hot rice, or with paratha for breakfast. The usual mistake is a pan that isn't hot enough, which leaves the omelette pale, flat and rubbery instead of puffed with golden edges. Chef's tip: heat mustard oil until it just smokes, then let it calm for a few seconds; that tames its raw sharpness and gives the classic nutty flavour.
Huevos al albañil, 'bricklayer's eggs', come from the fondas and food stalls of central Mexico that feed builders a filling breakfast before the sun gets hot: scrambled eggs cooked gently and then bathed in a spicy salsa of charred tomato and serrano chile. They are eaten with warm corn tortillas and refried beans, and they make an equally good quick dinner. The mistake is cooking the eggs fully before they meet the salsa; they keep cooking in it and end up dry and rubbery. Chef's tip: char the tomatoes and chiles until properly blackened in spots, which gives the salsa its smoky depth.
Across Russia, a bowl of soft tvorog with a spoon of smetana and a little sugar or jam is the breakfast grandmothers swear by and the supper students live on. The fresh, slightly sour curd and the cool cream make something like a rustic cheesecake you eat with a spoon, high in protein and ready in five minutes; add berries in summer. Tvorog, like quark and cottage cheese, is set with culture rather than rennet, so it suits vegetarians. The mistake is buying the driest block and serving it as it is, which feels chalky; break it up and loosen it with the smetana first. Chef's tip: mash the tvorog with the sugar and let it stand two minutes so the sugar dissolves before you add the cream.
Tofu sarada is a fixture on Japanese izakaya menus and family dinner tables everywhere from Tokyo to Fukuoka, especially in the humid summer months. Cool cubes of tofu sit on crisp lettuce, tomato and cucumber under a sesame-soy dressing sharpened with rice vinegar and ginger, with a few strands of wakame if you have them. It makes a light dinner with rice and miso soup. The usual mistake is not draining the tofu, so its water dilutes the dressing into a bland pool. Many shop-bought wafu dressings contain bonito; this home-made one is vegan. Chef's tip: dress the salad at the table so the leaves stay crisp.
Akuri is the Parsi community's breakfast scramble, served in Mumbai's old Irani cafés and Parsi homes on Sunday mornings with soft pav or buttered toast. It is softer and wetter than an ordinary scramble, cooked slowly so the eggs stay creamy and barely set, with sweet fried onion, tomato, ginger, green chilli and plenty of coriander. A spoonful of milk keeps it silky. The common mistake is cooking it over high heat: the eggs seize into hard, rubbery curds and the masala catches. Chef's tip: take the pan off the heat while the eggs still look slightly underdone, because they keep cooking on the plate.
In the traffic of Accra and at the lorry stations of Kumasi, hawkers carry trays of peeled boiled eggs with a jar of meko, a fresh, fiery relish of chilli, onion and tomato ground in an earthenware asanka. Buyers split the egg and spoon the pepper inside, and at home it is a quick evening snack or a light supper with bread. The usual mistake is boiling the eggs too long, which leaves a grey-green ring round the yolk and a rubbery white; ten minutes and a cold-water plunge give a firm, bright yolk. Wash your hands well after handling the chillies. Chef's tip: grind the onion and salt first, then the chilli and the tomato last, so the relish stays chunky rather than watery.
Nimroo, literally 'half-done', is what Iranian students in Tehran and families in every city cook when there is no time: eggs fried gently in a small pan until the whites set and the yolks stay soft, sprinkled with salt, pepper and sometimes a pinch of turmeric. It is eaten straight from the pan with torn lavash or sangak, fresh herbs and sweet black tea, for breakfast or a late supper. The common mistake is a fierce heat that burns the edges of the white while a raw film stays round the yolk; a lid for the last minute sets the top gently. For anyone pregnant, very young, older or with a weakened immune system, cook the yolks until firm. Chef's tip: serve it in the pan it was cooked in, on a board, so it stays hot.
On the Swahili coast, from Mombasa and Malindi to Dar es Salaam and Zanzibar, mchuzi wa mayai is the curry made when there is no meat or fish in the house: boiled eggs simmered in a turmeric-yellow sauce of tomato and coconut milk with ginger, chilli and fresh coriander. It is a weeknight supper with white rice or soft chapati, and it costs very little. The mistake to avoid is boiling hard once the coconut milk goes in, which makes the sauce split and turn oily; keep it at a gentle bubble. Chef's tip: score each peeled egg with a few shallow cuts so the sauce seeps inside and the eggs don't slide around the pan.
Matar paneer is one of Punjab's most-cooked dinners, made in North Indian homes for a midweek meal or when guests drop in, and served with butter rotis, parathas or jeera rice. Soft cubes of paneer and sweet green peas simmer in a gravy of browned onion, tomato, ginger and garlic, finished with garam masala and a pinch of crushed fenugreek. Paneer is set with lemon juice or vinegar, not rennet, so it is a safe choice for vegetarians. The common mistake is boiling the paneer in the gravy for too long, which makes it rubbery and squeaky. Chef's tip: soak the paneer cubes in hot salted water for 10 minutes while the gravy cooks; they turn soft and spongy and soak up the sauce.
Egg ghotala was born on the evening street stalls of Surat in Gujarat, where cooks on huge iron tawas mash boiled eggs and fresh eggs together into a rich, buttery masala and serve it with pav for dinner. 'Ghotala' means a muddle, and that is the point: half the eggs are grated, half are scrambled straight into the onion-tomato base, so you get creamy and chunky bites together. Some stalls finish it with grated cheese; if you add some, check the label, because many cheeses are made with animal rennet, and choose one marked vegetarian. The usual mistake is adding the raw eggs too early, before the masala is cooked down, which leaves the dish watery and pale. Chef's tip: keep the heat high and keep mashing with the back of the spatula, as the stall cooks do, so the eggs and masala blend into one thick mix.
Chilli paneer was born in the Chinese restaurants of Kolkata's Tangra and Tiretta Bazaar, where Hakka cooks adapted their chilli chicken for vegetarian customers, and today it is the Friday-night order from Delhi to Bengaluru. Cubes of paneer are coated in cornflour and fried crisp, then tossed over a fierce flame with onion petals, green pepper, garlic, soy sauce and plenty of green chilli in a glossy sauce. Paneer is set with acid, not rennet, so it is fully vegetarian. The mistake to avoid is letting the paneer sit in the sauce, which makes the crust soggy; toss it in at the very end and serve. Chef's tip: soak the paneer in hot salted water for 5 minutes before coating; it stays soft inside even after frying. Soy sauce contains wheat; use tamari if you need it gluten-free.
Dim bhuna is a Bangladeshi weeknight standby, cooked in kitchens from Chattogram to Sylhet when there are eggs in the basket and rice on the stove. Boiled eggs are fried until their skins blister golden, then tossed in a thick, dark masala of slow-browned onion and garlic that clings to them rather than pooling as a gravy. Eat it with plain rice, daal and a squeeze of lime. The mistake most people make is dropping smooth whole eggs into hot oil: they spit and can burst, and the masala slides off. Chef's tip: score each peeled egg with three shallow cuts so it fries safely and soaks up the spices.
Palak paneer is a Punjabi winter favourite, made when fresh spinach piles up in the markets of Amritsar and Ludhiana, and now cooked on weeknights all over India with makki di roti, naan or rice. The spinach is blanched for just a minute, blended smooth and cooked with fried garlic, onion, tomato and gentle spices, then soft cubes of paneer are folded in. Paneer is acid-set, so it contains no animal rennet. The usual mistake is overcooking the spinach, which turns the sauce khaki and bitter: blanch it briefly, cool it fast, and simmer the purée for only a few minutes. Chef's tip: fry a little extra sliced garlic in ghee and pour it over just before serving for the classic dhaba finish.
Gzik is a Poznań favourite, so much a part of Greater Poland that the region's potato-and-quark supper, pyry z gzikiem, has its own festival. Soft white quark is beaten with sour cream, then mixed with chopped radish, onion and chives into a cool, tangy, crunchy spread that is spooned over hot boiled potatoes in their skins, or onto rye bread for breakfast. The most common mistake is using dry, crumbly quark without loosening it, which gives a pasty gzik; it should be smooth and just spoonable. Quark and sour cream are made without rennet, so this is a good vegetarian choice. Chef's tip: salt the chopped radish and onion only at the last minute, so they stay crisp instead of weeping into the cheese.
In Havana and across the Cuban countryside, tortilla de plátano is a home supper made from what is in the kitchen: slices of very ripe plantain fried until caramelised, then set in a thick, golden omelette. The sweet fruit against salty egg is the whole point, and it is served with white rice and black beans or a simple tomato salad. The mistake people make is using a plantain that is still yellow and firm; it stays starchy and dry, so wait until the skin is mostly black and the fruit gives when pressed. Chef's tip: flip the tortilla by sliding it onto a plate, covering with the pan and turning both over together, which keeps it whole.
Jajecznica is what a Polish household cooks when there are ten minutes and a box of eggs: soft, large curds stirred slowly in plenty of butter, sometimes with a little onion softened first and always with a shower of chives. It turns up at weekend breakfasts with bread and sliced tomato, and just as often as a light supper after work. The usual mistake is a pan that is too hot, which turns the eggs rubbery and weepy before they have had a chance to go creamy. If you are cooking for anyone pregnant, very young, older or otherwise vulnerable, cook the curds until no liquid egg remains. Chef's tip: take the pan off the heat while the eggs still look slightly underdone; they finish setting on the way to the plate.
Œufs mimosa have been a starter in French bistros and on family tables for generations, served at Sunday lunch, on Easter platters and as a light supper with salad and bread. Hard-boiled eggs are halved, their yolks mashed with mayonnaise and mustard and piped back in, then a little yolk is grated over the top so it looks like the fluffy yellow flowers of the mimosa tree. They are naturally gluten free. The most common mistake is overboiling the eggs, which leaves a grey-green ring around the yolk and a sulphurous taste; 10 minutes and an ice bath is enough. Chef's tip: keep back one yolk just for grating, so the topping stays bright yellow and dry.
This plain, fast stir-fry is a fixture of home kitchens and made-to-order rice stalls across central Thailand, where it is eaten as one of two or three dishes shared over jasmine rice at dinner. Firm tofu is browned first, then the sprouts go in for barely a minute so they stay juicy and snap when you bite them. Thai cooks often season it with oyster sauce and fish sauce; this version uses soy and a mushroom-based sauce so it is vegan. The mistake almost everyone makes is cooking the sprouts too long, which turns them limp and watery. Chef's tip: pick off the stringy tails of the sprouts if you have five spare minutes; it makes the dish noticeably crisper.
Mexican families nearly always have a pot of frijoles de la olla on the stove, and before the salt goes in a cup of caldito is set aside for the baby. Black or pinto beans are cooked slowly with a piece of onion until they collapse; the broth is offered first on its own and, a week or two later, thickened with the sieved bean flesh into a smooth, earthy purée. Families from Oaxaca to Monterrey give it at midday, the time of the main meal. It has none of the common allergens (milk, egg, gluten, peanut, tree nuts, soya, sesame, fish). Chef's tip: soak the beans overnight and change the water; they cook more evenly and are easier on small tummies.
Dubu buchim, slices of tofu dipped in beaten egg and fried until golden, is an everyday Korean banchan, and families cut it into fingers for babies from about nine months to hold and gum. The outside is lightly crisp and the inside custard-soft, with a mild, nutty flavour. For babies it is made without salt, soy sauce or the usual sesame-soy dip; older children and adults can add the dip at the table. It contains soya and egg. Chef's tip: press the tofu well first, so it fries rather than steams and the egg coating sticks.
When a Chinese baby turns one month old, the family holds a full-month party and sends red eggs to relatives and friends: the round egg stands for new life and the red for luck and joy, and an even number is given for a boy in some families and an odd number for a girl in others. The eggs are shared by the guests and older children, peeled and eaten plain or with a little salt. This version dyes them with beetroot rather than food colouring. It contains egg. Chef's tip: dye the eggs while they are still warm and the shells take the colour much more evenly.
Fuzhu, the dried sticks made from the skin that forms on simmering soy milk, are a pantry staple in Guangxi and Sichuan and in Buddhist vegetarian kitchens across China. Soaked until soft and chewy, they are tossed in this cold dish with cucumber, carrot and wood ear in a dressing of garlic, vinegar and sesame oil, served in summer with rice or noodles. It is high in protein and very satisfying. A portion is about 170 kcal. Soak the fuzhu in cold water for 2–3 hours or overnight, not counted in the times. The common mistake is soaking in hot water, which leaves the outside mushy and the centre hard. Chef's tip: blanch the soaked sticks briefly; it cleans off the beany taste and makes them softer and juicier.
When an Iranian baby's first tooth appears, the family cooks a big pot of ash-e dandooni and shares it with relatives and neighbours, who return the bowl with a small gift for the baby. It is a hearty, mild soup of whole wheat, chickpeas, beans and lentils, eaten by the whole family; in some homes the little one gets the soft, mashed grains without salt or toppings. It is free of milk, egg, nuts and soya and contains gluten (wheat). Chef's tip: soak the wheat and pulses together overnight, so everything cooks at the same speed.
German children's birthday parties and Easter tables often feature a little forest of Fliegenpilz-Eier: hard-boiled eggs standing on cress, each wearing a red tomato cap dotted with mayonnaise like a fly agaric toadstool. Children love making them as much as eating them. They are meant for school-age children: for younger ones, cut the eggs and tomatoes into small pieces rather than serving them whole. Contains egg (also in the mayonnaise); free of gluten and milk. Chef's tip: slice a thin piece off the bottom of each egg so it stands steady.
In north Indian kitchens, last night's thick dal rarely goes to waste: the next morning it is kneaded into wholewheat flour with ajwain and coriander and rolled into soft, savoury parathas for breakfast and the school tiffin. They are golden-flecked, faintly spiced and filling, and taste good cold with yoghurt or pickle. They contain gluten (wheat) and milk (ghee); use oil to make them dairy free. Chef's tip: add the dal before any water; it is often all the liquid the dough needs.
In Hungarian homes split yellow peas are winter food, and on New Year's Day many families in Budapest eat this thick purée (or lentils) for luck in the coming year. The peas collapse into a smooth, earthy mash flavoured with bay and garlic, and a crown of onions fried until dark gold gives sweetness and crunch. It is usually served beside sausage, but this version is fully vegan and makes a filling meal with fresh bread and pickled cucumbers. Chef's tip: let the onions go slowly to a deep brown in plenty of oil and pour that oil over the purée too, because it carries most of the flavour. Pale, hurried onions are the usual mistake.
In Jaipur and Lucknow, a stack of chilla is what a careful mother makes on a weekday morning when she wants the family to eat protein before school: soaked yellow moong dal is ground with ginger and chilli into a pale batter and spread thin on a hot tawa. They come off golden at the edges and soft in the middle, and are eaten with green chutney or rolled around a spoon of grated paneer for those who want more. Two chillas make a portion of about 205 kcal. The dal needs 3 hours of soaking first (or overnight), which is not counted in the times. The most common mistake is a batter that is too thick: it should pour like single cream, or the chilla turns stodgy and cracks when you flip it. Chef's tip: wipe the tawa with a halved onion dipped in oil between chillas; it greases the pan lightly and stops sticking without extra oil.
When the monsoon heat settles over Seoul in July, queues form outside old noodle houses near City Hall for kongguksu: thin wheat noodles in an ice-cold, thick, nutty broth of soybeans boiled and blended with their skins, topped with cucumber and sesame. It is plain, rich and very cooling, and people season it at the table with salt (in Seoul) or sugar (in Jeolla). A bowl is about 520 kcal, a full meal with plenty of protein. Soak the soybeans overnight first, not counted in the times. The most common mistake is overboiling the soybeans, which gives a fermented, "meju" smell; boil them for exactly 10–12 minutes and taste one: it should be cooked but not soft. Chef's tip: blend a handful of pine nuts or toasted sesame with the beans; it makes the broth even creamier.
Paruppu usili is a Tamil Brahmin speciality, the dry dish that sits beside more kuzhambu or rasam on a Thanjavur lunch leaf at weddings and at home: chana and toor dal are soaked, ground coarsely with red chilli, steamed into a cake, crumbled, then fried with finely chopped green beans until the crumbs turn golden and crisp in places. The result is nutty, spicy and full of protein. A portion is about 220 kcal. The dals soak for 1 hour first (not counted in the times). The mistake most people make is grinding the dal to a smooth paste; it should be coarse like semolina, or the usili turns into lumps instead of crumbs. Chef's tip: steam the ground dal before frying, rather than frying it raw; it crumbles perfectly and needs far less oil.
Every Marathi kitchen from Pune to Kolhapur keeps a jar of matki, the small brown moth beans, sprouting on the counter, and a bowl of usal is what turns up with chapati or bhakri at a weekday lunch, or topped with farsan as misal on Sundays. The sprouts stay slightly firm in a thin, spicy gravy flavoured with goda masala, the sweet-smoky spice mix of Maharashtra, and a little fresh coconut. A portion is about 230 kcal. Sprouting takes 2 days (soak overnight, then leave wrapped in a cloth for 24–36 hours), which is not counted in the times. The common mistake is overcooking the sprouts until they split and go mushy; they should hold their shape and still have a slight bite. Chef's tip: add a teaspoon of jaggery and a few kokum petals at the end; the gentle sweet-sour balance is what makes usal taste Maharashtrian.
Tofu steak became a family-restaurant and home favourite across Japan in the health-food boom of the 1980s, and it is still how many Tokyo households get a quick, light main dish on the table: thick slabs of firm tofu dusted with potato starch, seared until golden, then glazed in a garlicky soy, mirin and sugar sauce until sticky. Serve with rice, shredded cabbage and miso soup. A portion is about 260 kcal. The common mistake is skipping the pressing, so the tofu spits in the pan and won't brown; press it for 10 minutes first. Chef's tip: add the sauce only once both sides are golden, and let it bubble down for just a minute so it coats rather than soaks.
Gomoku mame, "five-ingredient beans", is a pot of soybeans simmered with kombu, carrot, burdock, konnyaku and shiitake that grandmothers across Japan make on a Sunday and keep in the fridge for a week of small side dishes and bento, and it is often part of the New Year spread too. Every piece is cut to the size of a bean, so each spoonful has a little of everything, sweet, savoury and full of protein. This is vegetarian, with no bonito. A portion is about 150 kcal. Using cooked soybeans makes it a 45-minute dish; from dried, soak 150 g overnight and boil for 1 hour first. The usual mistake is cutting the vegetables in large chunks; they should be the size of the beans. Chef's tip: let it cool in its broth; the beans soak up the flavour as the temperature drops.
Okara, the soft white pulp left after making soy milk and tofu, is sold for pennies in Kyoto tofu shops, and grandmothers turn it into unohana, named after the white deutzia flowers that bloom in early summer: the pulp is simmered with carrot, shiitake, fried tofu, konnyaku and spring onion in sweet soy dashi until moist and fluffy. It is a side dish for rice and a classic of frugal, high-fibre home cooking. Many homes add a little chicken; this version is vegetarian, with kombu-shiitake dashi. A portion is about 140 kcal. The most common mistake is cooking it dry and crumbly; it should be moist enough to hold together when pressed with chopsticks, so don't skimp on the broth. Chef's tip: dry-fry the okara in the pan for a few minutes first; it loses its beany smell and absorbs the seasoning better.
Horse gram (ulavalu) was once the grain fed to horses and the poorest farmers in the dry Rayalaseema and Krishna districts; today ulavacharu is a prized dish in Vijayawada restaurants, served with hot rice, a dot of ghee for those who eat it and fresh cream in the fancier places. The beans are boiled for a long time, and their dark, earthy cooking liquid is simmered down with tamarind, jaggery and spices into a thick, glossy, sweet-sour soup. A portion is about 210 kcal. The beans need soaking overnight first. The most common mistake is throwing away the cooking water: it is the soup. Chef's tip: let ulavacharu reduce slowly until it coats a spoon like thin gravy; that thick, almost syrupy finish is what separates it from rasam.
Late at night outside Mumbai railway stations, bhurji-pav carts scramble eggs on huge tawas with onion, tomato, chilli and a shake of pav bhaji masala, and the same dish is the Sunday breakfast in homes across North India. The eggs are cooked soft and moist with the masala, not dry, and scooped up with buttered pav or folded into a paratha. Eggs are a common allergen. A portion of two eggs is about 240 kcal. The most common mistake is cooking the eggs on a high flame until rubbery; once they go in, turn the heat to low and take them off while they still look slightly wet. Chef's tip: cook the onion and tomato masala until it is soft and jammy before the eggs go in; that is where all the flavour comes from.
On Ashtami, the eighth day of Navratri, homes in Delhi, Punjab and Uttar Pradesh invite young girls for kanjak puja and feed them puri, sooji halwa and these dry black chickpeas, cooked without onion or garlic. The kala chana are boiled until tender and then tossed in a hot, dry masala of cumin, coriander, amchur and green chilli until every chickpea is coated and the edges catch slightly. Outside festivals they make a protein-rich side or a snack with a squeeze of lemon. A portion is about 240 kcal. Soak the chickpeas overnight first. The common mistake is undercooking them: black chickpeas need longer than white, and should squash easily between two fingers. Chef's tip: keep 3 tablespoons of the cooking water and add it with the spices; it helps the masala cling to each chickpea.
On the sand of Chennai's Marina Beach, vendors sell sundal in paper cones at sunset, and during the nine nights of Navaratri every Tamil home makes a different sundal to offer at the golu doll display and hand out to visiting neighbours. This one is chickpeas tossed in a hot tempering of mustard seeds, urad dal, dried chilli and curry leaves, finished with fresh coconut and a squeeze of lime. A portion is about 190 kcal. Using cooked or tinned chickpeas keeps it under 20 minutes; if you start from dried, soak 120 g overnight and pressure-cook them until soft. The common mistake is wet, mushy chickpeas, which make the coconut clump; drain them well and let them steam dry for a few minutes. Chef's tip: add the coconut off the heat; cooked coconut loses its fresh, milky sweetness.
Babfőzelék is what cooks in Transdanubian villages and Budapest workers' canteens make on Fridays and in the cold months, when a pot of dried white beans goes a long way. The beans cook until creamy, then a garlicky paprika roux thickens the liquid, a splash of vinegar makes it tangy and sour cream softens it. Served with a slice of rye bread or a fried egg, it is a hearty meat-free lunch. Soak the beans overnight first. Chef's tip: add salt and vinegar only once the beans are completely soft; acid in the pot early keeps the skins tough no matter how long they cook.
Atsuage, thick blocks of tofu deep-fried on the outside and soft and white within, sit in every supermarket chiller in Japan, and grilling them until crisp is one of the fastest dinners there is: an izakaya favourite in Tokyo and an easy dish at home when there is nothing else in. The block is grilled until the skin crackles, cut into cubes and topped with grated ginger, spring onion and a few drops of soy. A portion is about 190 kcal. The common mistake is grilling it in oil; atsuage is already fried, so a dry pan is all it needs. Chef's tip: pour boiling water over the block and pat it dry before grilling; it removes stale oil and the skin crisps up much better.
Evening hawkers in Kano, Zaria and Kaduna fry awara in wide pans of oil and sell it in paper with a sprinkle of yaji, the peanut-chilli suya spice: little cubes of homemade soybean curd that puff and turn golden outside and stay soft and tofu-like inside. It came to the North with soybean farming and is now a cheap, high-protein street snack, especially after maghrib prayers. Contains soy and peanut (in the yaji). The mistake is skipping the long boil: raw soy milk must simmer for a good 15 minutes to be digestible and taste sweet, not beany. Chef's tip: press the curd under a heavy pan for at least 20 minutes; firm awara cuts cleanly and doesn't spit in the oil.
Cairo cafés ladle shorbet ads all winter long, and at home it is the soup that opens the iftar meal in Ramadan, served smooth and golden with lemon wedges and crisp bread. Split yellow lentils are cooked with carrot, onion, tomato and cumin, then blended until velvety, with no cream at all. Serve it with lemon to squeeze and toasted pitta (leave the bread out for gluten free). The common mistake is under-cooking the lentils so the soup turns grainy; they should fall apart before you blend. Chef's tip: finish each bowl with a few drops of cumin-fried oil; it smells like an Egyptian kitchen in January.
Fasolia beida keeps Egyptian families going through the short Cairo winter: dried white beans, soaked overnight and stewed thick with tomato and onion, eaten on rice with crunchy turnip pickles and green chillies on the side. It's cheap, filling and better the next day, which is why many cooks make a double pot. Beans cooked in salted tomato from the start can stay hard forever, so they get boiled tender in plain water first. Chef's tip: mash a ladleful of the beans against the side of the pot near the end; it thickens the sauce naturally.
A bowl of daal chana with a fiery tarka poured over at the table is one of the most ordered plates at dhabas from Multan to Rawalpindi, and in many homes it is the Thursday dinner, eaten with roti, raw onion and pickle. The split chickpeas cook until soft but still hold their shape in a thick, yellow, gently spiced base, and then the tarka of fried onion, garlic, cumin and whole red chilli in ghee crackles over the top. The mistake is serving it before the dal is truly soft; chana dal takes longer than you think, so test a grain by squeezing it. Contains milk (ghee); use oil for a vegan version. Chef's tip: pour the tarka over at the very last moment so it hisses, and cover the pot for a minute to trap the smoky aroma.
When a baby cuts a first tooth, Ethiopian families celebrate with tirs mastecha, and the dish at the centre is nifro: a big pot of whole wheat berries, chickpeas and fava beans boiled with salt and handed round warm in cupped hands or small bowls. It also turns up at funerals, saints' day gatherings and long coffee ceremonies in Gondar and Addis, chewy, nutty and plain in the best way. The common mistake is boiling everything together from dry, so the wheat bursts while the fava stay hard; soak them all overnight and add the wheat later. Fava beans are unsafe for anyone with G6PD deficiency (favism), so leave them out if in doubt. Not gluten free. Chef's tip: once drained, toss the warm nifro in a dry pan for two minutes; it dries the surface and makes the salt and a pinch of berbere cling.
Ash-e haft daneh, the soup of seven seeds, is cooked as nazri, a votive offering, on Tasua and Ashura in Muharram, when families in Tehran, Kashan and Yazd stir huge cauldrons in the street and share bowls with neighbours and passers-by. Wheat, barley, rice, chickpeas, beans, lentils and mung beans cook slowly into a thick, nutty soup with herbs, topped with fried onion and mint. Serve it in bowls with bread. The mistake is adding all the grains together; they cook at different speeds, so the hard ones go in first. Chef's tip: soak everything except the rice and lentils overnight, each in its own bowl, and you'll cut the cooking time by an hour.
Not everyone at the table in Gondar or Addis wants berbere, so the fasting platter almost always has a gentle yellow wat beside the red one: misir alicha, split red lentils cooked down with dry-sweated onion, garlic, ginger and turmeric until creamy. It is soft, warming and easy on children and anyone who finds misir wat too hot. The common mistake is letting the lentils cook to a thin soup; simmer uncovered at the end until it mounds on a spoon and sits on injera without running. Chef's tip: a sliced green chilli and a pinch of ground ajwain (netch azmud) stirred in at the end lift it without adding much heat.
Ash-e jo is a winter staple in Tehran, Kashan and the cold cities of the plateau, and many families cook a huge pot in the month of Ramadan to break the fast. Pearl barley simmers with chickpeas, beans and lentils until it turns creamy, then plenty of herbs and a swirl of kashk make it tangy, savoury and filling. Serve it hot with bread and extra kashk at the table. The common mistake is skipping the soaking, which leaves the chickpeas hard long after the barley has gone to mush; soak them overnight. Kashk contains dairy. Chef's tip: the soup thickens a lot as it stands, so make it a day ahead and loosen it with hot water as you reheat.
Truck drivers on the GT Road and students in Lahore's Anarkali eat lobia at dhabas for a few rupees a plate: soft black-eyed beans in a dark onion and tomato masala, mopped up with tandoori roti and a green chilli on the side. It tastes earthy and comforting, with a peppery edge and a thick, spoonable gravy. Undercooked beans that stay chalky in the middle are the common complaint, especially when tomato goes in before the beans are soft; boil them tender first, then simmer them in the masala. Chef's tip: mash a ladleful of the beans against the side of the pot near the end, which thickens the gravy the way dhaba cooks do.
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