Skip to content
WhatToEat.Today

Jain recipes: no onion, garlic or root vegetables

2,799

2799 Jain recipes with no onion, garlic, potato, carrot, fresh ginger or other root vegetables, and no mushrooms, eggs or honey. Hing, dry ginger and turmeric powder are fine. Each has photos, step-by-step instructions and cook times. The quickest, Apfelschorle, takes 2 minutes. Most take around 40 minutes.

Filter these by time, diet or cuisine · Make Jain your diet to see only these recipes everywhere on the site.

Charbat (Algerian lemon drink)

During Ramadan, as the afternoon wears on, vendors in Algiers' Bab El Oued, in Blida and Boufarik and in the old streets of Constantine fill plastic bags and jugs with ice-cold charbat for families to carry home before the call to iftar. It is lemonade made with lemon zest rubbed into sugar, a good splash of orange blossom water and a little milk, which turns it pale, opaque and silky and takes the sharp edge off the lemon. Served with zlabia, qalb el louz or straight after the dates and chorba, it tastes like lemon sherbet with a floral finish. The common mistake is adding the milk to strong, undiluted lemon juice, which curdles it into flecks; dilute the lemon fully, chill it, and only then pour in cold milk slowly while stirring. It is ready when it looks like pale lemon cream, smells of orange blossom and tastes sweet first, then tart. Lemon-and-milk drinks do not keep well, so make it the afternoon you serve it. Chef's tip: let the zest sit in the sugar for a good 10 minutes before adding water; the oils give charbat its perfume, far more than the juice alone.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Café chorreadoCloth-filtered coffee

Every Costa Rican grandmother has a chorreador: a small wooden stand holding a cloth bag, the bolsita, over a cup or jug. Hot water is poured through the grounds by hand, a little at a time, and the result is the coffee drunk at breakfast with gallo pinto and again at the afternoon cafecito around three, with a tamal, a slice of pan casero or a rosquilla. The cloth catches the oils and fine grounds, so the cup is clean, bright and smooth, with the soft acidity and caramel sweetness of Tarrazú and Central Valley beans. In the countryside the water is sometimes sweetened with tapa de dulce before it goes through. It is strong coffee, so mind the caffeine late in the day. The common mistake is pouring all the water in at once, which floods the bag and leaves weak, uneven coffee; pour in slow circles, in four or five goes. It is ready when the drips slow to a trickle and the coffee is dark reddish-brown and smells of toasted caramel. Never wash the bag with soap; rinse it in hot water and hang it to dry. Chef's tip: boil a new bag once with a spoonful of coffee before using it, to season the cloth.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dragon's beard candy

Dragon's beard candy is one of the old street crafts of Hong Kong, still demonstrated by a few hawkers in Tsim Sha Tsui and at Kowloon City snack shops, where children watch a hard disc of sugar stretched and folded in starch until it becomes a skein of hair-fine threads. Each cocoon is wrapped around a crunchy filling of peanuts, sesame and coconut and must be eaten within minutes, before it melts in the humidity. It takes practice; your first batch may be thicker threads, and that is fine. Contains peanuts and sesame; not for children under five, who can choke on the filling. Chef's tip: toast the cornflour first, as raw starch tastes chalky and is not safe to eat uncooked.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ZhaliangRice noodle roll with fried dough

In Hong Kong dim sum halls and congee shops, zhaliang is a morning favourite: a fried dough stick wrapped in a slippery steamed rice noodle sheet, cut into pieces and doused in sweet soy, with hoisin and sesame paste or seeds on the side. The joy is the contrast between soft and crisp. The mistake is wrapping a stale dough stick; re-crisp it in the oven first, or it turns leathery inside the sheet. Store-bought dough sticks sometimes contain egg or milk, so check the label for a vegan plate. Chef's tip: steam the rice sheets in a lightly oiled tin no thicker than 2 mm, and roll them round the dough stick while still hot so they cling.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ResbaladeraBarley and rice milk drink

Resbaladera comes from Guanacaste, the dry, sunny cattle province of northwest Costa Rica, and is sold by the cup at the Fiestas de Santa Cruz in January, at the July celebrations of the Anexión in Liberia, and from carts at rodeos and turnos all through the hot months. Pearl barley and a little rice are cooked with cinnamon and cloves until bursting, then blended with milk and sweetened, giving a cold, slightly thick, creamy drink, smooth and milky like rice pudding in a glass, with warm spice and vanilla. The name hints at how easily it slips down. The common mistake is undercooking the barley: if the grains still have bite, the drink is gritty and thin however long you blend. Cook until they are swollen, split and very soft. It is ready when it is pale cream, completely smooth after straining and tastes of vanilla, cinnamon and nutmeg. Barley means it is not gluten free. Chef's tip: chill it properly before serving and stir in a splash of cold milk if it thickens in the fridge overnight; it should pour easily.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChichemeCold cracked corn drink

Chicheme comes from La Chorrera, just west of Panama City, where it is sold by the glass at the town's fairs alongside bollos and chorizo, and it is now drunk all over the country on hot afternoons. Cracked white corn is cooked until soft and swollen, then mixed with sweetened milk, cinnamon and vanilla and served very cold, so every sip has chewy grains in it. Undercooked corn is the classic mistake; the kernels must be soft right through or the drink feels gritty. Chef's tip: soak the corn overnight, and it cooks in under an hour instead of two.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ogura toastToast with sweet red bean

Walk into a kissaten coffee shop in Nagoya before 11 am, order a coffee, and the "morning service" brings a thick slab of toast spread with butter and a mound of ogura-an, coarse sweet azuki bean paste. The hot, salty butter melting into the cool, grainy beans is the whole point. The common mistake is thin sandwich bread: it goes limp under the paste, so use a 3–4 cm slice of shokupan or soft white bloomer. Chef's tip: butter the toast the second it comes out, then spread the bean paste only on half of each slice so every bite gets a different balance of salt and sweet.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BozaFermented millet drink

In Bulgaria boza is a breakfast habit: a plastic bottle of it from the corner pastry shop and a slice of hot, flaky banitsa, bought on the way to work or school, especially from autumn through to spring. Towns such as Radomir, Plovdiv and Sofia argue over whose is best. It is the colour of milky coffee, thick enough to coat the glass, sweet up front with a sour, bready finish and a faint prickle. Like every fermented grain drink it makes a trace of alcohol, well under 1% when drunk young. The base is millet flour, toasted for flavour, cooked into a thin porridge, then fermented for about a day before being strained and sweetened. The common mistake is adding the yeast while the porridge is still hot, which kills it and leaves you with sweet gruel; wait until it feels only just warm on your wrist. It is ready when the surface is covered in small bubbles, it smells like fresh bread with a sour edge and tastes pleasantly tangy. Chef's tip: keep back a glass of each batch in the fridge and use it instead of yeast next time; boza made from an old starter is rounder and more sour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MaesilcheongGreen plum syrup

In early June, Gwangyang in South Jeolla holds its plum festival under hillsides of maesil trees, and across Korea families buy crates of hard green maesil plums to make maesilcheong. The plums are layered with an equal weight of sugar in big glass jars, and over 100 days the sugar draws out their juice into a tart, fruity amber syrup. It is the Korean kitchen's all-purpose sweetener: a spoonful in a marinade for bulgogi, in salad dressings and in kimchi, and diluted with cold water as a summer drink traditionally taken after a heavy meal. It tastes sweet, sour and almond-scented. Expect a little natural fermentation: a few bubbles and a trace of alcohol (well under 1%) are normal while the sugar dissolves, so keep the lid loose. The common mistake is wet fruit: any water left on the plums or stem scars can lead to mould, so dry them for hours. Ready when the plums have shrivelled and float, and the syrup is clear amber. Raw green plum stones contain compounds that release cyanide: never crush, bite or eat the stones, and remove the fruit after 100 days. No maesil? Use hard green apricots, with the same care. Chef's tip: use half brown sugar for a deeper colour and caramel note.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Blåbärssoppa (warm bilberry drink)

Every first Sunday of March, the 90-kilometre Vasaloppet ski race from Sälen to Mora is fuelled by blåbärssoppa: volunteers at the feeding stations hand thousands of skiers paper cups of the warm purple drink, and Swedes drink it from thermoses on winter hikes, after skating and on the ski slopes. It is made from wild bilberries, the small dark forest berries with purple flesh, cooked with sugar and thickened with potato starch so it is just thick enough to coat the cup. It is sweet, softly tart and tastes intensely of berries, with a silky, almost glossy body. The common mistake is stirring the starch straight into the hot pot: it forms jelly lumps at once. Always mix potato starch with cold water first, take the pot off the boil, then stir it in and bring back just to a bubble; long boiling thins it again. It is ready when it turns glossy and coats a spoon in a thin film. Bilberries are sold frozen in Nordic shops; cultivated blueberries work too, with a squeeze of lemon for sharpness. Chef's tip: it is just as good cold the next day, or served as a soup with whipped cream and almond biscuits.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lingondricka (lingonberry cordial)

In Sweden the jug of red lingondricka sits on the table at weekday dinners, in school canteens and at the julbord, poured beside meatballs, pyttipanna or a Saturday pea soup. Lingonberries grow wild in the forests of Norrland and Dalarna, and in late August families pick them by the bucket with a wooden berry rake. Cooked with sugar and strained, they become a cordial that is both sweet and sharp, with a slight bitter-almond edge from the skins, bright enough to cut through rich, creamy food. The common mistake is boiling the berries hard for a long time: the cordial turns jammy and brownish, and the pectin can make it set in the bottle. Bring it just to the boil, crush, then simmer only briefly. The syrup is ready when it is clear ruby, flows like a thin syrup and tastes tart then sweet. Lingonberries are sold frozen in Nordic and Eastern European shops; cranberries work as a substitute, with a little more sugar. Bottled hot into sterilised bottles it keeps 2 months in the fridge, or 6 months frozen. Throw it out if you see mould or it fizzes. Chef's tip: mix one part cordial to five of chilled sparkling water for a party version.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kaffeost (coffee with cheese)

In the far north, across Swedish Norrbotten and Finnish Lapland, coffee comes with cheese in the cup. Leipäjuusto, a mild, squeaky cheese baked or grilled until spotted brown (called kaffeost or 'bread cheese'), is cut into cubes and put in a cup, often a carved wooden kuksa, then hot black coffee is poured over. Sámi reindeer herders and Tornedalen farmers have made it this way for generations; it is a fireside or mid-morning drink on a cold day, and in some families a little sugar or a slice of dried reindeer meat goes in as well. The cheese warms through, softens slightly and soaks up the coffee, so you drink the coffee and then spoon out the warm, chewy, milky cubes. The common mistake is using a soft or melting cheese: it collapses into strings. Use proper leipäjuusto or halloumi, which keep their shape. It is ready when the cubes are hot to the centre, about 2 minutes, and slightly puffed. Strong coffee means real caffeine here, so it is an adult drink. Leipäjuusto is sold in Nordic shops; halloumi is the nearest substitute. Chef's tip: warm the cheese on a dry pan first for extra browned flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Leung cha (Cantonese herbal tea)

Across Guangdong and Hong Kong, the leung cha shop with its gleaming brass urns is a neighbourhood fixture. People drop in after a run of fried food, late nights or the heavy, humid weather of early summer, when Cantonese tradition says the body has too much 'heat', and down a bowl standing at the counter, then chase it with a dried plum. Brews range from the gentle 'five-flower tea' to fiercely bitter 24-herb mixes. This home version uses dried mesona (sin cho), prunella spike (ha fu cho), chrysanthemum and honeysuckle: dark brown, earthy and grassy, clearly bitter but rounded by the flowers and a little rock sugar. The common mistake is boiling everything together for an hour; the flowers turn harsh and muddy. Simmer the woody herbs first, add the flowers only for the last 10 minutes. It is ready when the liquor is the colour of strong tea and has reduced by about a third. It is traditionally drunk for comfort, not as medicine: skip it in pregnancy and check with a doctor if you take regular medication. Chef's tip: buy herbs pre-weighed as a packet from a Chinese herbalist, who will rinse-check them for grit and freshness.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Urts tea (wild thyme tea)

Urts, the wild thyme that carpets the summer meadows around Aragats and Lake Sevan, is picked in June and July when it flowers purple, then tied in bunches and hung to dry. Every Armenian market sells it, and it is the tea served in village homes after a heavy khorovats lunch, in the evening before bed, or with a plate of dried fruit and gata on a winter visit. It brews to a pale gold, smells of summer hillsides and tastes softly peppery and herbal, a little like oregano and lemon. The common mistake is boiling the herb: it turns harsh and medicinal and loses its sweet, floral notes. Pour on water just off the boil and cover the pot so the aromatic oils stay in the tea. It is ready after 5–7 minutes, when the colour is light gold and it smells of thyme the moment you lift the lid. Outside Armenia, use dried wild thyme or a mild garden thyme with flowers, about two-thirds the amount. It is traditionally drunk for a tired stomach or a cough; drink it in normal amounts and check with a doctor if you are pregnant or on medication. Chef's tip: add a few dried mint leaves or a sprig of dried rose petals for a village blend.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Maksym (Kyrgyz grain drink)

On summer days in Bishkek and Osh, blue and yellow street barrels sell maksym by the glass, next to chalap and kymyz. It is a sour grain drink of Kyrgyz herders: barley (or millet or corn) is toasted, ground and cooked with fried wheat flour into a thin gruel, then left overnight with a little of yesterday's batch until it turns pleasantly sour and slightly sparkling. It is drunk cold with plov, samsa or simply to cool down in July heat. It tastes nutty, like toast and rye bread, with a yogurt-like tang and a gentle salty edge; the texture is thicker than kvass, about like thin buttermilk. Like all ferments it develops a trace of alcohol, well under 1% when drunk young. The classic mistake is adding the starter while the gruel is still hot, which kills it; wait until it feels just warm, about 30 °C. It is ready when small bubbles rise, it smells pleasantly sour and a foamy cap forms. Keep it in the fridge in a loosely capped jug for 3–4 days; it gets sourer and more alcoholic as it sits. Discard if you see coloured mould, slime or smell anything rotten. Contains gluten. Chef's tip: toast the barley until it smells like coffee for the deepest flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Anijsmelk (aniseed milk)

When the canals of Friesland freeze hard and the whole of the Netherlands goes out on skates, koek-en-zopie stalls appear on the ice selling erwtensoep, warm sausage and steaming cups of anijsmelk. At home it is a winter bedtime drink for children and grandparents alike, made either by crushing aniseed into simmering milk or, as many Dutch families do, by stirring in anijsblokjes, sugar cubes flavoured with aniseed. It tastes softly sweet and liquorice-like without being sharp, and it is smooth and warming, with a faint warmth on the tongue. The common mistake is boiling the milk: it rises over the pan, scorches on the base and forms a thick skin. Heat it slowly and stop when tiny bubbles appear around the edge. It is ready when the milk smells clearly of anise after steeping and has turned faintly ivory. Anise seeds are sold in spice shops; in a pinch use one star anise, though it tastes stronger and less sweet. There is no caffeine, which is why Dutch parents serve it at bedtime. Chef's tip: crush the seeds just before using, the oils fade quickly once ground.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lahpet yay (Burmese milk tea)

Yangon runs on lahpet yay. From before dawn, crowded teashops set out tiny plastic stools on the pavement, and the tea comes with mohinga, palata or a plate of samusa; people linger again at four in the afternoon to talk. The tea is a dark, very strong brew of cheap black leaf that has been boiled and kept hot in a kettle, mixed in the cup with condensed milk and evaporated milk. Regulars order in code: cho seint is sweet and creamy, kya seint is strong and less sweet, pawsein is the standard. It should be thick, silky, sweet, faintly smoky and bitter underneath. The common mistake is brewing it like ordinary tea: it ends up thin and the condensed milk just tastes of sugar. Boil the leaves hard and then let them stand so the liquor is almost black; the bitterness is needed to stand up to the milk. It is ready when the tea poured from height into the cup has a light froth and the colour of milk chocolate. It is strongly caffeinated, so not one for children or late evenings. Chef's tip: pour the finished tea between two jugs a few times to cool it slightly and give it the teashop froth.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Herbata z sokiem malinowymTea with raspberry syrup

In Polish homes a bottle of sok malinowy, the raspberry syrup made each July from garden or forest raspberries, waits in the pantry for winter. When someone comes in from the frost, or lies in bed with a cold, it goes into a glass of hot black tea, sometimes with a slice of lemon; grandmothers insist it makes you sweat the chill out, and the drink is traditionally given at the first sign of a sniffle. It also appears simply after a winter walk or with a slice of cake. The tea turns ruby, tastes of summer berries with a light tannic edge, and is sweet enough without sugar. The usual mistake is pouring syrup into boiling tea straight from the kettle: the fresh raspberry aroma cooks off and only sweetness is left. Let the tea cool for a minute or two first. It is ready when the tea is deep amber, the syrup has fully swirled through and it smells clearly of raspberries. No homemade syrup? Use a good shop-bought raspberry syrup, or make the quick one in the optional steps. Chef's tip: brew the tea weaker than usual, about two minutes, so the fruit stays in front.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chintakaya pachadiGreen tamarind pickle

In Telangana and coastal Andhra, the tamarind trees hang heavy with tender green pods from December to February, and every household that can lays in a jar of chintakaya before the pods ripen and turn brown. The raw pods are pounded with salt and turmeric and left to mature into a sharp, olive-green base that keeps for the whole year. Small portions are then ground with chillies and finished with a crackling tadka whenever the family wants it. The taste is pure, mouth-puckering sourness with a fresh, almost apple-like green note, very different from ripe tamarind. Mix it into hot rice with sesame oil, or eat it with jonna rotte (sorghum flatbread) and raw onion. The common mistake is to let wet pods into the jar: wash the tamarind the day before, then spread it to dry completely. The salted base is very acidic and roughly 15% salt, so it keeps in a cool cupboard; the finished pachadi with chillies belongs in the fridge and is best within 3 weeks. It is ready when the paste is coarse, dark green and smells sharply sour. Chef's tip: roast dried chillies for a smoky winter version, or use green chillies for a brighter, fresher heat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Winter melon tea

All over Taiwan, from Tainan's old markets to Taipei's night-market stalls, winter melon tea is sold in plastic cups packed with ice through the steaming summer. Despite the name there is no tea in it: chunks of winter melon are cooked down for hours with brown and white sugar until the melon disappears into a thick, dark, toffee-scented paste, which is set into blocks and later dissolved in hot water and chilled. The drink tastes of caramel and light molasses with a gentle, grassy melon note, and it is often mixed half and half with lemon juice or fresh milk. The common mistake is stopping too early, when the mixture is still runny: it will not set and it tastes boiled rather than caramelised. Keep stirring until a drop on a cold plate sets firm and the paste pulls away from the pan. Ready blocks keep 2 months in the fridge, or 6 months frozen; make the drink whenever you want it. If you cannot find winter melon (ash gourd, available frozen in Asian shops), there is no good substitute. Chef's tip: a final 10 minutes on low heat with constant stirring gives the deep, smoky colour that market versions have.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

NapolitainesJam shortbread sandwiches with pink icing

Pink, round and glossy, napolitaines sit in the front window of every pâtisserie in Port Louis and Quatre Bornes, and they come out at birthday teas, christenings and school fêtes. Two discs of tender, barely sweet butter shortbread are glued together with strawberry jam and dipped in a thin pink icing that sets to a crisp shell; the biscuit should crumble against the sweet glaze, not snap. The common mistake is baking them until golden: they must stay pale, or the shortbread turns hard and tastes toasted. Look for a vegetarian red food colouring, as many red colourings are made from cochineal insects. Chef's tip: chill the cut rounds for 15 minutes before baking so they keep their sharp edges and do not spread.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Shegaon kachoriDal-stuffed fried pastries

Shegaon, a temple town in Vidarbha, is known across Maharashtra for its small, round, crisp kachoris, sold by the boxful at the railway station and carried home by pilgrims and travellers. The stuffing is dry and spicy, made of roasted gram flour, crushed dal, fennel, coriander and a good pinch of hing, and the pastry is short and flaky. They are eaten with sweet tamarind chutney, or broken into hot kadhi. The common mistake is frying on high heat, which browns the pastry before it turns flaky; these need a slow fry. Chef's tip: the stuffing must be cold and crumbly when you fill the dough; warm stuffing turns pasty and bursts the kachoris.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

HakusaizukeSalted napa cabbage pickle

In Japanese homes from Hokkaido to Kyushu, hakusaizuke appears when napa cabbage is cheap and sweet, from November through February. Big heads are quartered, dried for half a day on a sunny veranda, then salted in a wooden tub with kombu, dried chilli and slivers of yuzu peel, and pressed under a stone. A few days later the leaves are crisp, juicy, lightly salty and fragrant with citrus, and after a week they turn pleasantly sour. It is the everyday pickle beside breakfast rice and miso soup, or chopped into a hot-pot. Use about 3% salt by weight; less and it can spoil, more and it is too salty to enjoy. The common mistake is too light a weight at the start: the brine must rise over the cabbage within a day, so begin with twice the cabbage's weight and halve it once the liquid appears. It is ready when the white ribs are translucent and bend, the brine is clear to faintly cloudy, and it smells fresh and briny. If you cannot get yuzu, use strips of lemon peel with a little orange peel. Chef's tip: squeeze a slice firmly before serving and add a few drops of tamari and some toasted sesame seeds.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TitiyasCoconut milk flatbread

Titiyas are the soft, slightly sweet flatbreads of Guam and the Marianas, cooked on a griddle and eaten warm at breakfast, with fiesta food or rolled round a piece of grilled meat. Flour titiyas are made with coconut milk, which keeps them tender and gives a faint coconut taste; there is also a corn version (titiyas mai'es). A common mistake is rolling them too thick; 5 mm cooks through without burning. Chef's tip: cook on a dry, medium-hot pan and wrap each one in a towel as it comes off so they stay soft.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pandu mirapakaya pachadiRipe red chilli pickle

Guntur is chilli country, and when the fields turn red between January and March, Andhra kitchens buy fresh, fully ripe red chillies by the kilo for this pachadi. The chillies are chopped, salted and packed with tamarind for two days, then ground coarse with roasted fenugreek and sealed under a tempering of gingelly oil, mustard and hing. The result is brick red, fiery and fruity rather than smoky, with a sour backbone from the tamarind and a faint bitterness from the methi. A teaspoon is mashed into hot rice with a spoon of ghee or sesame oil, and it is just as good beside idli, dosa or pesarattu. The big mistake is washing the chillies and grinding them while still damp: water is what makes this pachadi spoil, so wipe them dry and leave them on a cloth for a few hours. It is ready when the paste is thick and glossy and the oil pools on top. Salt here is high on purpose, about 12 g for every 100 g of chillies, and the tamarind makes it acidic; even so, keep it in the fridge, where it lasts up to 6 months. Chef's tip: mix in a few Byadgi or Kashmiri chillies with the hot Guntur ones for a deeper red without extra fire.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Papaya milk

Kaohsiung claims papaya milk as its own: the southern port city's fruit stalls, and the famous old shop on Liuhe night market's doorstep, have been blending it since the 1960s, when sweet red-fleshed papayas from Pingtung became cheap and plentiful. It is now sold all over Taiwan, a thick orange-pink shake in a tall cup, drunk on sticky evenings while walking between food stalls or in the morning with a scallion pancake. It tastes of ripe papaya and cold milk, sweet and mellow, with a smooth, slightly airy body. The classic mistake is making it in advance: papaya contains the enzyme papain, which starts working on milk proteins within about 20 minutes and leaves the drink bitter and curdled-looking. Blend it just before drinking. Your papaya is ripe when the skin is mostly yellow-orange and gives slightly to a thumb, and it smells sweet at the stalk end; it is ready to serve when it is fully smooth, foamy on top and evenly coloured. Children love it, and with little added sugar it is a fine after-school snack. Chef's tip: chill the papaya well beforehand so you need less ice and the shake stays thick.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SlempSpiced saffron milk

Slemp is the Dutch holiday drink of earlier centuries: on Sinterklaas evening, around New Year and on skating days in the 18th and 19th centuries, a big kettle of milk was simmered with saffron, mace, cinnamon, cloves, lemon peel and a handful of tea leaves, and ladled into cups for family and visitors. Slemp evenings came back into fashion in Amsterdam museums and village fairs, and you can still buy dried 'slempkruiden' spice mixes in old-fashioned shops. The drink is golden, faintly floral from the saffron, warmly spiced and only lightly sweet, with a soft tea background; a spoon of cornflour gives it a slight body. The common mistake is throwing all the spices straight into boiling milk: cloves turn harsh and the milk catches. Steep the spices in the hot milk below the boil instead, then strain. It is ready when it has turned saffron-gold and smells of cinnamon and mace. The tea adds a small amount of caffeine. Chef's tip: soak the saffron in a spoon of warm milk for ten minutes first; the colour spreads more evenly and you need fewer threads.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Refresco de linazaFlaxseed and pineapple drink

In La Paz, Cochabamba and Sucre the refresqueras at the market stalls ladle linaza from big glass jars alongside mocochinchi and somó, and at home it is a standard jug in the fridge for the midday almuerzo. Flaxseed is simmered with pineapple peel, cinnamon and cloves until the water turns faintly silky, then strained, sweetened and chilled. It is pale gold, smooth and almost slippery on the tongue, tasting of pineapple and spice, with lime to wake it up. It is traditionally drunk to cool down and to settle the stomach. The common mistake is simmering too long or leaving the seeds in as it cools: the liquid turns into a thick, slimy gel. Strain it while still hot, as soon as a spoon dipped in comes out lightly coated, like thin syrup. It is ready when it pours freely but feels smooth, and tastes sweet, spiced and fresh. Using the peel and core of a pineapple is the thrifty Bolivian way and gives more flavour than the flesh. Chef's tip: if it thickens too much in the fridge, whisk in cold water a little at a time until it pours easily again.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SwankGuyanese limeade

Swank is the simplest drink in Guyana and the one everybody's grandmother made: fresh limes from the yard squeezed into cold water and sweetened with brown Demerara sugar from the cane fields along the coast; nobody agrees where the odd name comes from. It turns up beside Sunday cook-up rice, at village cricket matches, at Mashramani in February and on any hot afternoon in Georgetown, New Amsterdam or the Essequibo coast, poured from an enamel jug full of ice. It is sharp, refreshing and gently caramel-sweet from the brown sugar, with a warm hint of nutmeg on top. The common mistake is squeezing the limes so hard, or leaving the lime shells in the jug, that bitter peel oil takes over; squeeze firmly but not to the last drop, and take the shells out. It is ready when the sugar has completely dissolved, it tastes bright, tart and sweet in balance, and the nutmeg smells warm on top. Make it fresh: lime juice turns bitter if it sits for more than a few hours. Chef's tip: dissolve the Demerara in a little warm water first; the large crystals take forever to melt in cold water.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Fa'apapaDense coconut bread

Fa'apapa is a dense, chewy Samoan coconut bread, once baked wrapped in banana leaves in the umu (earth oven) for Sunday lunch, and now often made in a tin in home ovens in Apia and Pacific Auckland. It is made from flour and freshly grated coconut with coconut cream, so it is rich, slightly sweet and very filling, best eaten warm in thick slices. A common mistake is expecting it to rise like bread; it's meant to be heavy and moist. Chef's tip: wrap the dough in banana leaf before putting it in the tin for a gentle, smoky aroma.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Horchata lojanaHerbal flower infusion

In Loja and the valleys of Vilcabamba and Malacatos, horchata has nothing to do with rice: it is a pink herbal infusion of anything up to twenty garden plants, drunk hot at breakfast and after lunch, or cold from the fridge on warm afternoons. Markets sell the herbs in bundles: cedrón, hierbaluisa, toronjil, mint, chamomile, mallow, and the red-leaved escancel and ataco (red amaranth) that give the colour. It tastes lemony, floral and faintly silky, and turns from ruby to bright pink the moment lemon juice goes in. The common mistake is boiling all the herbs hard, which makes it bitter and grassy; only the tough flaxseed and lemongrass simmer, and the soft leaves steep off the heat. It is ready when the liquid is deep red-pink and smells of lemon and flowers. Abroad, Latin shops sell dried mixes; dried hibiscus gives the colour if you lack amaranth. It is traditionally drunk to settle the stomach; if you are pregnant or on medication, check with a doctor before drinking it daily. Chef's tip: add lemon at the table, glass by glass, to watch the colour change.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mauritian vanilla tea

In Mauritius the kettle goes on for dité at breakfast and again at four, when the heat of the day breaks and someone brings out gato piment, a packet of biscuits or a slice of gato patate. The tea is grown on the island's central plateau, around Curepipe and the Bois Chéri hills, and the local favourite is black tea perfumed with vanilla, the same vanilla that grows on the neighbouring islands. It is drunk strong, very sweet and milky, often with evaporated or condensed milk: a round, creamy cup with a soft caramel-vanilla scent and no bitterness. The common mistake is boiling the tea leaves with the milk until they stew; brew the tea in water first, then add hot milk. It is ready when the tea is the colour of milky caramel and the kitchen smells of vanilla. A cup has about as much caffeine as ordinary black tea. If you cannot find vanilla-scented Mauritian tea, a strong black tea and a split vanilla pod do the job well. Chef's tip: dry the used vanilla pod and bury it in your sugar jar; next time the sugar alone will scent the tea.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Piña colada

Two bars in 1950s San Juan claim to have created the piña colada, and Puerto Rico made it the island's official drink in 1978. It is the drink of hot afternoons on the beaches of Condado and Isla Verde, of hotel pools and of family parties where the blender runs all day. The rum version is for adults only, and because it tastes like a dessert it is easy to drink too fast, so keep to one or two and drink responsibly. A good piña colada is thick, frosty and smooth, coconut-sweet but kept fresh by the sharp acidity of pineapple, with the rum warming the finish. The common mistake is using coconut milk or unsweetened coconut cream instead of cream of coconut, the thick sweetened coconut syrup sold in tins and squeeze bottles: the drink comes out bland and splits into icy water and fat. If you only have coconut cream, blend in 2 tbsp sugar. It is ready when the drink is thick enough to hold a straw upright for a moment, has no crunchy ice and has turned a pale, creamy yellow. Chef's tip: freeze half of the pineapple juice into ice cubes the day before; you will need less ice and the colada stays thick to the last sip.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Faikakai topaiDumplings in caramel coconut syrup

Faikakai topai is a much-loved Tongan pudding, served at Sunday feasts and family celebrations in Nuku'alofa and in Tongan communities from Auckland to Utah. Simple flour dumplings are boiled, then smothered in a thick, toffee-like syrup of caramelised sugar and coconut cream called lolo. It is very sweet and best eaten warm. A common mistake is pulling the caramel off the heat too pale; let it turn a deep amber before adding the coconut cream. Chef's tip: roll the dumplings thin and flat so they cook quickly and soak up more syrup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Minil songaBamboo-roasted sticky rice

The Garo of western Meghalaya make minil songa for festivals, hunting trips and family picnics, packing soaked sticky rice into lengths of green bamboo and roasting them in the embers until the rice comes out fragrant, firm and faintly smoky. At home, a hot oven or a grill gives a very good result. The mistake to avoid is sealing the bamboo too tightly: steam must escape. Chef's tip: if you have no bamboo, roll the rice in a double layer of banana leaf and foil.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hong Kong red bean iceRed bean shaved ice

Red bean ice is a cha chaan teng drink and dessert in one: tall glasses of sweet stewed adzuki beans, sugar syrup and crushed ice, topped with a layer of evaporated milk, served all summer at the old-school cafés of Sham Shui Po and Mong Kok and at the dai pai dong on Stanley Street. You stir with a long spoon, sip the cold milky liquid through a straw and spoon up the soft beans. The beans can be cooked a day ahead. Contains milk. Chef's tip: add the sugar only once the beans are completely soft; sugar added early keeps the skins tough.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

EinspännerBlack coffee with whipped cream

The Einspänner is named after the one-horse carriages of old Vienna: coachmen waiting outside in winter supposedly liked their coffee under a lid of cream that kept it hot and stopped it slopping. Today it is served in a handled glass at classic coffee houses, a strong black mocha (a double espresso or Großer Brauner without milk) topped with a thick layer of cold, lightly sweetened whipped cream and a pinch of icing sugar. You do not stir it: you sip the hot, bitter coffee through the cold, sweet cream, so each mouthful is two temperatures and two textures. It is an afternoon or late-morning coffee, often with a slice of Sachertorte. The common mistake is runny cream that sinks and turns the drink into a milky latte; whip it until it just holds a peak and spoon it on gently so it floats. It is ready when the cream stands at least 2 cm above the coffee and slowly sinks at the edges. It is strong: a double shot of caffeine in one glass. Chef's tip: pour the coffee in first and wait ten seconds before adding the cream, so the crema settles and helps support the cap.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Salam pakSalep root and milk fudge

Salam pak is the grandest of the Gujarati winter paks, made in Kathiawadi and Ahmedabad homes in the cold months and handed out to family as a strengthening sweet. Salam (salep) is the dried, powdered root of a wild orchid sold by Gujarati grocers and Ayurvedic shops; cooked in milk it thickens into a silky, slightly chewy body that mawa, ghee and nuts make luxurious. A frequent mistake is adding the salam straight into hot milk, where it seizes into rubbery lumps that never cook out. Chef's tip: buy salam powder from a busy shop and smell it; it should be clean and faintly sweet, never musty.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Malai cha (cream tea)

In Bogura, the town famous for its sweet doi, and in the lanes of Old Dhaka around Nazira Bazar, tea stalls keep a wide karai of milk barely simmering all evening. Layers of skin build up on top; the tea-maker lifts them off as malai and lays a thick spoonful on every cup of strong, sweet milk tea, poured into small unglazed clay bhar that give the tea a faint earthy smell. People stand around after maghrib prayers or late at night, sipping through the cream and finally eating it with a finger. The tea is malty and syrupy-sweet; the malai is soft, rich and slightly caramelised. The usual mistake is boiling the milk hard: a rolling boil breaks the skin into flakes and you never get a thick sheet. Keep it at a lazy shiver and lift the skin every 5 minutes. The tea is ready when it is the colour of milky caramel and coats the back of a spoon; the malai is ready when it lifts off as a wrinkled, leathery sheet. Strong CTC tea makes this fairly caffeinated. Chef's tip: soak clay cups in water for ten minutes first, so they don't drink up the tea or smell dusty.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MocochinchiDried peach and cinnamon drink

Walk through any Bolivian plaza on a warm afternoon and someone will be selling mocochinchi from a big glass jar: a cool, amber drink of sun-dried peaches simmered with cinnamon and cloves, served with a whole wrinkled peach at the bottom of the glass to eat at the end. It is the classic drink with lunch from Cochabamba to Tarija. People often skip the overnight soak, and then the peaches stay leathery and the drink tastes thin. Chef's tip: rub the soaked peaches between your hands under water to clean off dust and loosen the skins, which also releases more flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Koova kurukku (arrowroot porridge)

Koova, the arrowroot that grows in Kerala's backyards, is dug, washed, grated and dried into a snow-white powder that many families in Thrissur and Kottayam still make themselves. Stirred with water over a low flame, it turns from chalky to clear and glossy in a few minutes, and this kurukku is a classic first spoonful at six months, often given in the hot months because it is thought to be cooling. It is very mild and smooth. No salt, sugar, jaggery or honey goes in for babies. It is free of the major allergens. Chef's tip: buy pure koova or arrowroot powder, not a cornflour blend, and stop cooking the moment the whole pan turns translucent.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ViiliCultured milk

Viili is a Finnish breakfast staple with a texture all its own: a mild, slightly sour cultured milk that stretches in long ropy strands from the spoon, with a thin velvety layer of mould on top from the traditional culture. Finns eat it straight from the bowl with cinnamon and sugar, berries or muesli. It is set at room temperature, no yoghurt maker needed, using a few spoons of an existing viili as a starter. The common mistake is setting it somewhere too warm, which makes it watery and sour; viili wants a cool kitchen of 18–22 °C. Chef's tip: always use pasteurised milk, and save 2 tablespoons from each batch in a clean jar to start the next one.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ivan-chai (fireweed tea)

Long before Chinese tea reached ordinary villages, peasants around Koporye near St Petersburg, and on through Karelia and the Arkhangelsk forests, were rolling and fermenting the leaves of fireweed, the tall pink-flowered plant that floods clearings every July. Ivan-chai is having a revival now, sold in paper bags at markets and drunk at the dacha in the evening from the samovar, because it has no caffeine and will not keep anyone awake. It brews to a clear amber with a soft, slightly fruity, honey-and-dried-apple taste and almost no bitterness. Granular kinds taste deeper, leaf kinds more floral. The common mistake is brewing it for two or three minutes like black tea; it needs a full 10 minutes in a warmed pot to open up, and it never turns bitter if you leave it longer. It is ready when the liquid is a deep golden-amber and smells of honey and dried fruit. It is traditionally drunk as a calming evening tea; if you are pregnant or on regular medication, check with a doctor before drinking it daily. Chef's tip: the same leaves give a second, lighter pot; just top up with fresh hot water and wait another 10 minutes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Firi firiCoconut doughnuts

Firi firi are the twisted figure-eight doughnuts of Tahiti, sold every morning at the Papeete market and roadside stands, and eaten with a coffee or dipped in hot chocolate on Sunday mornings. The dough is made with coconut milk instead of dairy, so they're lightly sweet and coconut-scented with a soft, chewy inside. A common mistake is twisting the dough too tightly, which makes it spring back; let it rest first. Chef's tip: give them a short second rise after shaping so they fry up light.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ShorSalted dry curd cheese

In Azerbaijani villages şor is made from what is left after churning butter from soured milk: the curds are heated, drained in a cloth, salted and left to dry into a crumbly, tangy cheese. On the breakfast table in Shaki or Ganja it sits beside fresh herbs, cucumbers, butter and bread, with tea in pear-shaped glasses. This home version uses natural yogurt and milk, and needs about 12 hours to drain and dry. It is set with acid and heat, so no rennet is used. The mistake is boiling the mixture hard, which makes rubbery curds; heat it gently until it just separates. Chef's tip: add the salt after draining, crumbling it through with your fingers, so you can taste and stop when it is pleasantly salty.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Berezovy sok (birch sap)

For two or three weeks at the end of March and into April, while there is still snow under the trees and before the buds open, the birches around Moscow, Tver, Vologda and across the north start to run. Families tap a few trees at the dacha and drink the sap straight from the jar: clear, cold, very faintly sweet, tasting of rainwater and fresh wood. Because it spoils within two or three days, villagers bottled the rest with sugar, raisins and lemon zest, letting it ferment slightly into a sparkling drink that kept into early summer; like any ferment it makes a trace of alcohol, well under 1% if drunk young. Only tap with the owner's permission, choose trees thicker than 20 cm, drill one small hole and plug it with a wooden peg afterwards so the tree heals. The common mistake is sealing the bottles tight at warm room temperature, which can make them burst; keep them cool and open the caps daily. The bottled sap is ready when the raisins float, a ring of fine bubbles forms on top and it tastes gently sparkling. Chef's tip: drink the first glass straight from the tree; it is never quite as good again.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cola de monoCoffee and milk liqueur drink

In Santiago, December means cola de mono: bottles of cold, coffee-coloured spiced milk that families make days ahead and open on Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve, poured beside slices of pan de pascua, the dense Chilean fruit cake. The traditional version is for adults only, spiked with grape aguardiente; pour small glasses and drink responsibly. It tastes like a sweet, cold café con leche with cinnamon, clove and orange, the aguardiente adding a warm finish, and the texture is smooth and light, never thick. Each glass has about as much caffeine as a small, weak coffee, so use decaf for anyone sensitive. The classic mistake is adding the aguardiente while the milk is still hot: much of the alcohol steams away and the milk can catch and curdle. Let the spiced milk cool completely first. It is ready when the colour is an even tan, the spices smell strong but the milk tastes clean, and it is fridge-cold. It keeps 3–4 days in the fridge in clean bottles; shake before pouring and throw it out if it smells sour. Chef's tip: make it two days ahead; the spices keep blooming and it tastes noticeably rounder.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Socată (elderflower fizz)

In late May and early June, when elder bushes bloom white along every Romanian village lane and riverbank, grandmothers fill big glass jars with water, sugar, lemon slices and elderflower heads and set them on a sunny windowsill or balcony. Three or four days later the jar is fizzing gently and socată, the most beloved summer drink of rural Romania, is bottled and chilled for haymaking days, family lunches and long evenings in the courtyard. It is sweet and floral, like honeyed lemonade with the scent of muscat grapes, with a light natural sparkle. Like all young ferments it makes a trace of alcohol, well under 1% if drunk within a week. The common mistake is washing the flowers or picking them after rain: the pollen and wild yeast that start the fermentation are rinsed away and nothing happens. Pick dry, fully open heads on a sunny morning and just shake off insects. It is ready to strain when fine bubbles rise steadily and it smells floral and slightly tangy. Use only the flowers: elder stems, leaves and unripe berries are toxic. Chef's tip: a few raisins in the jar give the yeast a boost if your flowers are slow.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TizanaFruit in orange juice

On Sunday afternoons in Caracas, juice stands along the boulevards of Sabana Grande and the Plaza Altamira, and street carts outside beaches and parks, sell tizana in tall plastic cups with a straw and a long spoon. It is half drink, half fruit salad: papaya, pineapple, melon, watermelon, apple, mango and banana cut into tiny dice and soaked in orange juice tinted ruby with grenadine. At home it is made by the jug for birthday parties and hot holidays. It tastes juicy, sweet and bright, and every sip brings a different fruit up the straw. The common mistake is adding the banana and apple with everything else an hour early: they turn brown and mushy and cloud the juice. Cut them last and stir them in just before serving. The tizana is ready when the fruit has soaked for about 30 minutes in the fridge, the juice has turned a clear coral-pink and the pieces are cold right through. Make the dice no bigger than 1 cm so they pass up a wide straw. Grenadine here means pomegranate syrup; a red fruit syrup works too. Chef's tip: squeeze a little lime over the cut apple and banana to keep them pale and add a tang that lifts the whole jug.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MerengadaStrawberry milk shake

Ask for a batido in Venezuela and you get fruit blended with water; ask for a merengada and it comes with milk, frothy and pale. The name is said to come from the old habit of beating in a little egg white like a meringue, which few cooks do now. Every panadería and fuente de soda from Maracaibo to Barcelona has a row of fruits on the counter, and strawberry from the Andes of Mérida, banana and guava are the favourites, ordered with a cachito or a pastelito at breakfast or as an after-school treat. A good merengada is cold, light and foamy, tasting clearly of fruit, not just of sweet milk. The common mistake is too little ice and too much milk, which gives a thin, warm drink with no froth. Blend the fruit with part of the milk first until perfectly smooth, then add the ice and the rest of the milk and blend hard. It is ready when a thick layer of pink foam sits on top and no fruit pieces are left. Banana or guava (strain the guava for seeds) work the same way. Chef's tip: frozen strawberries make it frostier; cut the ice by half if you use them.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

HalvasanMilk and cracked wheat sweet

Khambhat, the old port town at the head of the Gulf, is where halvasan comes from, and its sweet shops still sell the chewy, nutmeg-heavy rounds wrapped in paper to visitors from Ahmedabad and Vadodara. Milk is split so it turns grainy, then cooked down with soaked cracked wheat, ghee, sugar and a little puffed edible gum until it is dark gold and chewy, rather like a cross between a halwa and a barfi. The mistake to avoid is undercooking: if it is taken off while still soft and sticky, the rounds never set and turn greasy. Chef's tip: keep cooking until the mass rolls around the pan as one lump and a drop pressed between two fingers feels tacky but not wet.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sorbete de curubaBanana passionfruit milk drink

In Colombia a sorbete is not an ice but a fruit milkshake, and around Bogotá and the cold highlands of Boyacá and Cundinamarca the classic is made with curuba, the long, soft-skinned banana passionfruit that grows on vines at 2,500 metres. Bakeries and corrientazo lunch spots serve it with almuerzo or with a slice of cake at onces, the late-afternoon snack. It is pale salmon-pink, creamy and sweet-tart, more delicate than passionfruit, with a fragrance like guava and lemon. The common mistake is blending the pulp with its black seeds on high speed: the seeds break up and the sorbete turns bitter and grey-flecked. Pulse just enough to loosen the pulp from the seeds, strain, and only then blend with milk. Serve it at once, because the acid in curuba thickens the milk the longer it stands. It is ready when it is smooth, frothy and pink with no gritty specks. Outside Colombia look for frozen curuba pulp in Latin shops; passionfruit pulp works too, but use about two thirds of the amount as it is stronger. Chef's tip: dissolve the sugar in the strained juice before the milk goes in, so you can blend for less time.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Café guayoyoLong black coffee

In the coffee villages of the Venezuelan Andes, in Trujillo, Mérida and Táchira, the day starts in the dark with a pot of guayoyo, and it never really stops: a cup at breakfast with arepas, one mid-morning, one after lunch, one at the bodega counter in the afternoon. Guayoyo is the opposite of a short, dark negrito: plenty of water through a modest amount of coffee, poured through a colador de tela, a cotton cloth sock on a wire ring. It is light-bodied, mild and clean, closer to tea in strength, with gentle chocolate notes and almost no bitterness, so it is easy to drink cup after cup. It still has caffeine, so count the cups. The common mistake is pouring boiling water onto the grounds, which pulls out bitter flavours; let the kettle rest off the boil for a minute first. Never wash the cloth with soap either, or every cup tastes soapy. The coffee is ready when it runs through amber-brown, clear enough to see the bottom of a white cup. Sweeten with papelón (raw cane sugar) if you like. Chef's tip: keep the rinsed cloth in a jar of water in the fridge between uses so it never smells stale.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Prú orientalSpiced root drink

In Santiago de Cuba, Guantánamo and Baracoa, prú is sold from plastic bottles at the kitchen door and poured at every birthday, often next to a slab of cake. The recipe came from Haitian and French-Caribbean coffee planters who settled in the east, and families still keep a "madre", a starter jar from the last batch. Roots of raíz de China and bejuco ubí are boiled with pine, cinnamon and allspice, sweetened and left to ferment for a few days. It tastes like a wild, earthy root beer: woody, spiced, a little bitter, with a soft prickle. Fermentation makes a trace of alcohol, well under 1% if drunk young. Outside Cuba use dried sarsaparilla root, a close relative of China root. The common mistake is sealing bottles too early and leaving them warm, which builds dangerous pressure; use a plastic test bottle and chill once it is firm. It is ready when tiny bubbles rise and it smells sweet-sour, not yeasty. Throw it out if it grows fuzzy mould, turns slimy or smells rotten. Pregnant people should skip the pine needles, and anyone on medication should check with a doctor about herbal roots. Chef's tip: keep 250 ml back as the madre for your next batch.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Gol dhanaJaggery and coriander seed sweet

In Gujarat, when two families agree on a match, a plate of gol dhana is passed around before anything else, and the engagement itself is often simply called 'gol dhana'. The same mix appears on auspicious days, at a griha pravesh and at the start of a new venture: soft jaggery rubbed together with dhana dal, the split, lightly roasted coriander seeds sold in every Gujarati grocery. It takes five minutes and needs no cooking. The common mistake is using whole coriander seeds, which are hard and bitter; buy dhana dal, or split and toast the seeds yourself. Chef's tip: choose a soft, golden Kolhapuri-style jaggery that crumbles between your fingers, so it coats the seeds instead of staying in lumps.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Batido de mameyMamey milkshake

In Havana and all over the island, the cafeteria counter has a blender that never stops, turning out batidos of mango, guanábana, papaya and the favourite of all, mamey. The fruit has a rough brown skin and a soft, salmon-red flesh that tastes like sweet potato, pumpkin pie, almond and apricot at once, and blended with cold milk it makes a shake so thick it is almost a dessert. It is drunk mid-afternoon on hot days, at breakfast with toast, or at a kid's birthday party; Miami's Cuban cafés keep the tradition alive with frozen pulp. The common mistake is using a hard mamey, which tastes starchy and slightly bitter; the fruit must give like a ripe avocado when pressed and show deep red flesh when you scratch the skin with a fingernail. The batido is ready when it is smooth, pumpkin-orange and pours slowly in a thick ribbon. Frozen mamey pulp from Latin American shops is a good substitute; reduce the ice because the pulp is already cold. Chef's tip: a pinch of salt and a drop of vanilla bring out mamey's almond notes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CortaditoEspresso with steamed milk

Havana runs on small cups of coffee: a cafecito standing at a ventanita, a colada shared in tiny plastic cups at work, and in the afternoon or with breakfast, a cortadito, which is Cuban coffee cut (cortado) with roughly as much hot milk. The coffee is brewed in a stovetop cafetera, and the first dark drops are whipped hard with sugar into a pale, thick espumita that floats on top of the cup. The result is rich, very sweet and caramel-like, with a velvety milk body and a strong, bitter edge underneath. It is high in caffeine, so it is not one for children. The common mistake is adding sugar to the pot or stirring it in at the end; without the espumita you get a thin, flat drink. Beat the first concentrated coffee with the sugar until it turns light tan and holds soft folds, then pour in the rest. It is ready when a pale foam floats on the cup and the milk has been heated until steaming, with small bubbles around the edge but not boiling. Chef's tip: catch only the first 2–3 teaspoons of coffee for the foam; later coffee is too thin to whip.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Batido de lechosaPapaya and orange shake

Lechosa is what Venezuelans call papaya, and on breakfast tables from Valencia to Puerto La Cruz it turns up as a batido beside arepas or empanadas, often blended with the oranges that are piled cheap in every market. It is thick, smooth and sunset-orange, tasting of honeyed papaya and bright citrus, and it fills you up until lunch. Some families blend it with milk instead of juice, which turns it into a creamy merengada. The common mistake with milk is letting it stand: papaya's natural enzyme starts to turn milk bitter within half an hour, so drink it straight away. Another mistake is scraping the seed cavity too hard; the black seeds and their slippery coating make the batido bitter and peppery. It is ready when there are no fibres left, it pours in a thick stream and the colour is an even orange. Choose papaya that is mostly yellow-orange and gives slightly under your thumb; a green-streaked one tastes flat and a little musky. Chef's tip: a few drops of lime juice cut through papaya's musky note and make it taste fresher.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kakinada kajaSyrup-soaked layered pastries

Kakinada kaja is the famous sweet of Kakinada in Andhra's East Godavari, a long, golden pastry made of layered dough that is fried and soaked in syrup until the hollow centre fills with sweetness and bursts when bitten. Telugu families buy it for weddings, Sankranti and housewarmings. The common mistake is syrup that is too thick: Kakinada kaja is soaked in a thin, just-sticky syrup so it seeps inside, while the outside stays crisp. Fry slowly so the layers open. Chef's tip: roll the dough sheet tightly into a log after spreading the ghee paste, and seal the ends, so each piece puffs into distinct layers.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Gangaur guneFried dough shapes in syrup

Gangaur, Rajasthan's spring festival for Gauri, is when women fast and pray for their husbands and married daughters receive a sindhara of sweets from home, and gune are always in it. A ghee-rich dough is rolled thin, pleated or pressed into ribbed shapes and fried crisp, then dipped in sugar syrup or jaggery. They are crunchy, flaky and lightly sweet. The common mistake is under-rubbing the ghee into the flour, which makes them hard rather than short and flaky. Chef's tip: rub until the flour holds a clear fist mark when squeezed; that is when the gune will shatter, not crack.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chhena jhiliFried cheese patties in syrup

Chhena jhili comes from Nimapara near Puri in Odisha, where sweet shops fry these flat, oval chhena patties all day for pilgrims heading to and from the Jagannath temple. They are soft and spongy, golden-brown outside and creamy within, soaked in a thin syrup scented with cardamom, and are eaten at Rath Yatra, weddings and any good-news visit. The common mistake is using dry, crumbly chhena; it should be moist enough to press into a smooth patty without cracks, so hang it for no more than 30 minutes. Chef's tip: fry in ghee rather than oil for the true Odia flavour, keeping the heat gentle so the outside stays golden, not dark.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Yansoon (anise tea)

Every Cairo ahwa has yansoon on its menu, chalked up next to tea and helba, and in Egyptian homes it is the drink of evenings, colds and upset stomachs. It is made with green aniseed, often from Upper Egypt, simmered briefly and sweetened. People reach for it after a feast at Eid, during winter coughs, or simply at night because it is caffeine-free and traditionally drunk to calm and help sleep. It is pale gold and sweet, with a soft liquorice scent and a slightly peppery warmth at the end. Many Egyptian mothers give a weak version to infants, but herbal teas are not suitable for babies under six months; ask your doctor first. The common mistake is boiling the seeds for too long, which makes the tea cloudy and bitter: crush them lightly, boil for only a few minutes, then let them steep off the heat. Also do not swap in star anise, a different plant with a harsher taste. It is ready when the liquid is light golden and smells strongly of anise when you lift the lid. Chef's tip: a thin slice of lemon or a few drops of lemon juice brightens the cup without hiding the anise.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChilreBuckwheat pancakes

In the upper hills around Shimla and through Kinnaur, buckwheat (kuttu or ogla) grows where wheat struggles, and chilre are its everyday form: thin, lacy pancakes poured on a hot griddle for breakfast or a late-afternoon snack. They are eaten with a sharp mint-and-walnut chutney, or sweet with honey, and are naturally gluten free when made with pure buckwheat. The common mistake is making the batter too thick, so the chilre come out stodgy; it should pour like single cream. Chef's tip: let the batter rest 15 minutes so the buckwheat swells, and wipe the pan with an oiled cloth rather than pouring oil, for even, lacy pancakes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

PatandeSweet wheat and milk crepes

Patande are the special-occasion crepes of Sirmaur district in southern Himachal, poured for Diwali, the Bishu fairs and whenever a guest arrives unexpected. A thin batter of wheat flour and milk, sweetened and scented with cardamom, is spread paper-thin on a large iron griddle and folded into quarters, then eaten warm with ghee or honey. A salty version with green chilli is made too, but the sweet one is the festive favourite. The common mistake is a cold pan, which makes them stick and tear; it must sizzle when the batter touches it. Chef's tip: spread the batter with the back of a flat ladle in a spiral from the centre outwards, as hill cooks do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Rolete de cana (sugarcane on a stick)

On the sand at Porto da Barra in Salvador, and in the crowds of the Festa de Iemanjá in Rio Vermelho every February, vendors walk with buckets of ice and bundles of skewers threaded with pale sugarcane discs. You chew each piece to squeeze out the cold, grassy-sweet juice, then spit out the fibre. It is the simplest snack there is and very refreshing in the heat. Not for small children, as the fibres are a choking risk. Chef's tip: cut between the knobbly joints, not through them; the nodes are hard as wood.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Maní tostadoRoasted peanuts

Walk along the Malecón or through Parque Central in Havana at dusk and you will hear the manisero before you see him, calling out "¡Maní!" with a basket of warm peanuts rolled into little paper cones. They are the snack for an evening stroll by the sea wall and for long nights in the stands at the Estadio Latinoamericano. Some vendors sell them simply salted, others glazed in a crunchy coat of sugar, so this recipe gives both. The nuts are toasty and crisp with papery skins that flake off as you eat. They contain peanuts, and whole nuts are a choking risk for children under five. Chef's tip: take the tray out when the nuts look a shade too pale; they keep colouring for a few minutes as they cool.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Masaco de plátanoPounded plantain with cheese

Breakfast in Santa Cruz and the Bolivian lowlands often means a mound of masaco with a cup of strong coffee: green plantain fried and then pounded with butter and grated cheese into a dense, savoury mash. Many cruceños mix in shredded dried beef; this vegetarian version uses only cheese, which is how plenty of families make it too. Bolivian lowland cheese is usually set with animal rennet, so use a vegetarian Cheddar-style cheese if that matters to you. The usual mistake is frying the plantain until crisp: it must stay soft inside or it won't mash. Chef's tip: pound the plantain while it is still very hot; once it cools it turns hard and rubbery.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Durofrío de mangoFrozen mango milk pops

In the hot streets of Centro Habana, durofríos are sold straight from the front windows of family homes: a few pesos buys a frozen cup of fruit juice or fruit and milk, popped out and eaten on a stick or straight from its paper cup. Children queue for them after school in the long summer afternoons, when the sea breeze has dropped. This version blends ripe mango with milk and lime into a creamy, fruity ice that is firm, as the name says ("hard-cold"), rather than soft like ice cream. Swap the milk for water or guava juice for a dairy-free fruit ice. It contains milk. Chef's tip: make the mix taste a little too sweet before freezing; cold dulls sweetness.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kangri khattaTangy chickpeas

At a Kangra dham, the leaf-plate feast cooked by botis (Brahmin cooks) for weddings and village festivals, khatta comes towards the end, a dark, sweet-sour dish of chickpeas or pumpkin in a gravy soured with tamarind or dried mango and balanced with jaggery. It is served with rice and has no onion or garlic. The gravy is thin, glossy and almost black from the long-cooked tamarind. The common mistake is adding the tamarind to undercooked chickpeas; the acid stops them softening, so cook them fully first. Chef's tip: a teaspoon of rice flour or gram flour stirred into the gravy gives the dham-style gloss without making it heavy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KusliSemolina-filled Diwali pastries

Kusli are the crimped half-moon pastries that fill tins in Chhattisgarhi homes before Diwali and Chhath, close cousins of the gujiya and karanji but filled with semolina roasted in ghee, dry coconut and sugar rather than mawa. They keep for a fortnight and are handed to visitors with thethri and khurmi. The common mistake is frying them in very hot oil; they blister and brown outside while the pastry stays raw within. Chef's tip: seal the edges with a dab of milk and a firm pinch-and-fold twist so not a crumb of filling leaks into the oil.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Helba (fenugreek tea)

Helba is the other hot drink chalked on the board of every Egyptian coffee house, ordered in winter by students and old men playing dominoes alike. At home it is brewed when someone has a cold, after childbirth, or simply on chilly nights in the Delta, and is traditionally drunk to soothe the chest and the stomach. Fenugreek seeds are boiled until the water turns amber-yellow; the cup tastes nutty and toasty, like maple and celery, with a pleasant bitterness that sugar softens. Some people add a splash of milk at the end. Fenugreek is not advised during pregnancy, can lower blood sugar and may interact with blood thinners, so check with your doctor if you take medication; it can also make your sweat smell faintly of maple, which is harmless. The common mistake is boiling unrinsed seeds hard for a long time, which gives a slimy, very bitter tea. Rinse them, toast them briefly and boil only 8–10 minutes. It is ready when the liquid is clear golden-amber and smells of warm maple. Chef's tip: soak the seeds overnight first for a milder, rounder brew, and eat the softened seeds with a spoon as Egyptians do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Arrope de chañarChañar fruit syrup

In the oases of the Atacama, from San Pedro to Toconao, the small brown fruit of the chañar tree is gathered in late summer, dried in the sun and boiled for hours into arrope, a molasses-like syrup with notes of dates and caramel. Grandmothers keep a bottle for winter coughs, but most of it ends up on toast, stirred into hot water or over mote (cooked wheat) and fresh cheese. Dried chañar is sold in northern markets and online; it needs no sugar at all. The classic mistake is walking away at the end, when the syrup thickens fast and scorches, turning bitter. Chef's tip: stop reducing when the syrup coats a spoon thinly; it sets much thicker as it cools.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mag ni dal ni khichdi for babiesMoong dal khichdi for babies

In Gujarati homes from Ahmedabad to Surat, the first real family meal a baby shares is a pot of mag ni dal ni khichdi, the same yellow moong and rice that grown-ups eat with kadhi on a quiet weeknight, just cooked softer and left unseasoned. From around nine months it is mashed to soft lumps instead of blended, so babies learn to move food around their mouths and chew with their gums. It tastes mild, creamy and faintly earthy from the turmeric. It contains milk (ghee); swap in a neutral oil to make it dairy free. It has no gluten, egg, nuts, soya or sesame. Chef's tip: soak the washed dal and rice for 20 minutes before cooking; they collapse into a creamier khichdi in less time.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chai nabat (saffron rock candy tea)

Pilgrims leaving Mashhad carry home boxes of saffron nabat, crystals of rock candy grown on a string and tinted gold with Khorasani saffron. Across Iran a glass of chai nabat is what you are handed when you feel unwell, after a shock, after an exam, or late at night when the evening meal sits heavy; it is traditionally drunk to settle the stomach and warm you up. The tea is brewed strong in a teapot that sits on top of the kettle, then poured clear and amber into small glasses, and the nabat stick is stirred until it softens the tea with a gentle, honeyed sweetness and a faint saffron aroma. Black tea has a moderate amount of caffeine, so give children a weaker glass. A common mistake is boiling the leaves or letting them steep on direct heat, which turns the tea bitter and murky; Persian tea is "dam" — brewed gently on steam. It is ready when the leaves have sunk, the tea is clear and reddish-amber and it smells of bergamot or cardamom. Chef's tip: hold the glass up to the light; if you can't see through it, top it up with hot water, as Iranians do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sharbat-e bidmeshk (willow blossom sherbet)

Kashan and the villages of Qamsar and Niasar are famous for distilling flowers in spring: rose water in May, and before that araq-e bidmeshk, the distillate of the fuzzy catkins of the musk willow. In summer, when the desert heat settles over the old houses, the same bottles go into sharbat-e bidmeshk, a pale syrup diluted with icy water and served to guests in tall glasses, sometimes with swollen basil seeds. It is traditionally drunk to calm the nerves and cool the body. The taste is delicate, sweet and haunting, somewhere between honeysuckle, musk and fresh hay. The common mistake is adding the distillate to hot syrup; the heat drives the scent away within minutes, so cool the syrup completely first. The syrup is ready when it is clear and pours like thin honey, and the finished sherbet should smell floral the moment you lift the glass. Look for the distillate in Iranian shops; there is no true substitute, though rose water with a few drops of orange-blossom water makes a pleasant but different drink. Chef's tip: a squeeze of lemon in the syrup stops it crystallising in the fridge, where it keeps for a month.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Papayas en almíbarPapayas in clove syrup

Drive up the Elqui Valley from La Serena and every roadside stall sells jars of these: small, intensely fragrant mountain papayas (papaya chilena) poached until they turn amber and translucent. Families spoon them over vanilla ice cream, eat them with a slice of fresh cheese, or simply serve them chilled after Sunday lunch. Outside Chile, tinned Chilean papayas are easy to find, or use firm, under-ripe ordinary papaya, which holds its shape in the syrup. The usual mistake is boiling the fruit hard: it breaks up and clouds the syrup, so keep it at a lazy simmer. Chef's tip: once the fruit is cooked, lift it out and boil the syrup alone for 5 minutes, so it is thick enough to cling and keeps longer in the jar.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MesuFermented bamboo shoot pickle

Lepcha and Nepali households in Sikkim shred tender bamboo shoots in the monsoon, when they push up fresh, and pack them tightly into glass jars or hollow bamboo to sour for one to two weeks. The finished mesu is eaten as a sharp pickle with rice and dal through the rest of the year. A common mistake is leaving shoots above the brine, which invites mould; press them down hard so the liquid always covers them. Keep the jar at 20–28 °C out of direct sun and taste from day 7: it is ready when pleasantly sour and pale yellow. Discard the batch if you see fuzzy, pink or black mould, if it smells putrid rather than sour, or if the shoots feel slimy. Chef's tip: short of time, buy ready-fermented bamboo shoot from a Northeast or Asian grocer and go straight to the tempering.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sharbat-e zaferan (saffron sherbet)

Big steel urns of golden saffron sherbet are poured for guests at Iranian weddings and engagement parties, and the same drink is handed out on the street as nazri during Muharram and at memorial gatherings, when families offer something sweet and cool in the name of the departed. Saffron from Khorasan is ground with a sugar cube, bloomed in a little water and stirred into syrup with rose water and lemon. The result is honey-sweet and floral, with saffron's faint bitterness and hay-like perfume at the end, and a colour that should be a clear, sunny orange-gold. The usual mistake is dropping whole threads straight into cold water, which gives a pale, patchy drink and wastes expensive saffron; grind it first and let it bloom for at least 10 minutes. You know the bloom is ready when the water is a deep red-orange and smells strongly of saffron. Taste before serving: it should be sweet but finish clean, with the lemon just noticeable. Chef's tip: an ice cube placed on the ground saffron and left to melt slowly gives the deepest colour of all, an old Iranian trick.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

PappchiFried wheat and rice biscuits

Pappchi are little scalloped discs that Chhattisgarhi families fry in large batches for Teeja, Diwali and weddings, made from wheat flour and rice flour, fried slowly and then turned in sticky sugar syrup until they wear a thin white glaze. They snap cleanly and keep for weeks in a steel tin. A common mistake is taking the syrup too far, so it crystallises into lumps; you want a one-string syrup that dries to a matt coat as it cools. Chef's tip: press the edge of each disc with a thimble or bottle cap to make the frilled pattern, which also helps them fry crisp.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KharoliFermented mustard relish

Kharoli is an old Assamese relish from the villages of upper Assam: ground mustard seed is mixed with khar, the alkaline water filtered from burnt banana peel, packed into a jar and left to ferment until sharp and funky. A small spoon with mustard oil and green chilli is eaten with the first balls of rice, and families make it in the cooler months. The common mistake is using a damp jar or spoon, which lets mould in. Ferment at 20–28 °C for 4–6 days; it is ready when it smells sharply pungent and tangy. Throw it away if you see fuzzy mould, pink or black spots, or it smells rotten or putrid rather than sour. Chef's tip: if you have no banana-ash khar, a quarter teaspoon of bicarbonate of soda in the water gives a similar alkaline bite.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Guyanese plait breadBraided white loaf

A glossy three-strand plait sits on the table in many Guyanese homes on Christmas morning and for Old Year's Night, next to garlic pork, pepperpot and black cake, and bakeries in Georgetown sell it every day for sandwiches. It is a soft, close-crumbed white bread, just a little sweet, that tears into pillowy pieces and soaks up pepperpot gravy beautifully. The common slip is adding too much flour while kneading: the dough should feel slightly tacky, or the loaf bakes up dry and dense. Chef's tip: let the shaped plait prove until a finger pressed into the side leaves a dent that springs back slowly; that is the moment to bake.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ruwangan chamanPaneer in tomato gravy

Ruwangan chaman, 'tomato paneer', is the red sister of the yellow chaman kaliya, cooked in Kashmiri Pandit homes for Sunday lunches and on festival days when the meat is left out. Fried paneer cubes are simmered in a thin, glossy gravy of tomato with fennel, dry ginger and plenty of mild Kashmiri chilli, with no onion or garlic. It is eaten with plain rice, the gravy soaking in. The common mistake is frying the paneer too long, which makes it rubbery; you only want a light golden skin. Chef's tip: drop the fried paneer into warm salted water for ten minutes before it goes into the gravy, and it will be soft as a sponge.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sharbat-e rivas (rhubarb sherbet)

For a few weeks in spring, after Nowruz, sellers come down from the Alborz foothills, the mountains of Khorasan and Kurdistan with bundles of rivas, the thick-stalked wild rhubarb. People peel and eat the stalks raw with salt, cook them into khoresh, and boil the rest into syrup to keep the taste of the season into summer. Sharbat-e rivas is pink, sharp and refreshing, like sour cherry and green apple together, softened by sugar and lifted by mint. The common mistake is boiling the rhubarb hard and pressing it through the sieve, which makes the syrup cloudy, brownish and stringy; simmer gently and let it drip on its own. Use only the stalks, never the leaves, which are poisonous. The syrup is ready when it is clear, rose-coloured and coats a spoon in a thin film; it keeps for two weeks in a clean bottle in the fridge, and should be thrown away if it fizzes, smells of alcohol or grows mould. Garden rhubarb is a good substitute for rivas; the reddest stalks give the prettiest colour. Chef's tip: a strip of lemon peel in the pot brightens the colour and stops the syrup tasting flat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

EiskaffeeIced coffee with ice cream

On a hot July afternoon in any German or Austrian Eiscafé, from a Hamburg promenade to a Viennese Gastgarten, the tall glass with the long spoon is Eiskaffee. It is not iced coffee in the American sense: strong coffee, chilled, is poured over two scoops of vanilla ice cream and crowned with sweetened whipped cream, sometimes a wafer and a dusting of cocoa or grated chocolate. You drink the cold coffee through a straw while the ice cream slowly melts into it, then spoon up the creamy, half-frozen rest, so it is part drink, part dessert, eaten at the café in the afternoon rather than with a meal. The usual mistake is pouring hot or even warm coffee straight onto the ice cream: it melts at once into a thin, lukewarm, milky soup. Brew it earlier and chill it properly. It is ready when the coffee is fridge-cold, the scoops sit just proud of the surface and the cream holds soft peaks on top. It is moderately caffeinated, so keep it for adults and older teens. Chef's tip: freeze leftover coffee in ice-cube trays and add a couple to the glass so nothing gets diluted with water.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AmbalSweet and sour pumpkin

Ambal belongs to the Dogra dham of Jammu, the feast cooked by the hereditary siyan cooks for weddings and festivals and served on leaf plates in a fixed order. Yellow pumpkin is softened with fenugreek seeds and fennel, then simmered in a dark tamarind and jaggery sauce until it is sticky, sour and sweet at once, which is what the name, from 'amla' for sour, promises. It is eaten with rice alongside the dham's dals and madra. The common mistake is stirring hard once the pumpkin is soft, which turns it to mush; shake the pan instead. Chef's tip: let it rest an hour before serving, as the tamarind settles and the flavour deepens.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ranawara teaTanner's cassia flower tea

Ranawara, tanner's cassia, is a scrubby shrub with bright golden flowers that grows wild along dry-zone roadsides and in gardens from Kurunegala to Jaffna. The flowers are picked, dried in the shade and sold in packets at every Sri Lankan supermarket and ayurvedic shop, and many households drink a cup each morning instead of plantain tea, traditionally believing it helps balance blood sugar and cool the body during the hot season. It brews into a pale golden-yellow tea with a mild, grassy, slightly beany taste and a gentle bitterness, which is why it is drunk with a piece of jaggery or a spoon of kithul treacle. The common mistake is brewing the flowers with too little water or for too long: the bitterness takes over. A good pinch per cup, a short simmer and a few minutes' steep is enough. It is ready when it is clear and bright yellow and smells like dried hay. Ranawara is a senna-family plant: do not drink it if you are pregnant or breastfeeding, do not give it to young children, and check with a doctor if you take diabetes or other regular medication. Chef's tip: add a few dried flowers to the cup when serving; they float and turn the colour even more golden.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MarchuDeep-fried wheat breads

In the high Lahaul valley, marchu are fried by the basketful before the winter festivals of Halda and Losar, when families visit each other and every house must have a pile ready for guests. They are thick, soft rounds of wheat dough, sometimes lightly sweetened, fried in oil until puffed and golden, and they keep for days in the cold. They are eaten with butter tea or a spicy potato dish. The common mistake is frying in oil that is too hot, which browns the outside before the inside cooks; keep the heat medium. Chef's tip: prick each round twice with a fork so it puffs evenly rather than ballooning on one side.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SingalFried semolina and banana spirals

Singal (also called singhal) are sweet, spongy spirals from Kumaon, fried for Diwali, weddings and the Harela festival and offered at the temple before the family eats them. A thick batter of semolina, ripe banana, curd and sugar rests until the semolina swells, then it is piped or poured in a spiral into hot ghee or oil. The outside turns crisp and the inside stays soft like a doughnut. The common mistake is frying straight away; unrested batter spreads into flat, greasy shapes. Chef's tip: the batter is right when it falls from a spoon in a thick ribbon that holds its shape for a second.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kapeng barakoStrong Liberica coffee

In Lipa and the hill towns of Batangas, mornings start with kapeng barako boiled in a dented aluminium kaldero and poured into enamel mugs, often next to pandesal, a slab of tapang Taal or a plate of suman. Barako is Liberica, a large-beaned coffee that grows on tall trees around Mount Malarayat, and the word itself means a strong, rough-mannered man. The cup is heavy and earthy with notes of jackfruit, dark chocolate and smoke, and it is sweetened with sticky muscovado from Negros or Antique, never with white sugar. It carries plenty of caffeine, so go easy if you are sensitive and keep it away from children. The usual mistake is keeping the pot at a rolling boil once the coffee is in: the grounds stew and the drink turns sour and harsh. Bring the water to the boil, then take it off the heat before adding the coffee. The brew is ready when the crust of grounds sinks after the splash of cold water and the liquid underneath is a clear, deep mahogany. Chef's tip: grind it coarse, like raw sugar, so it settles cleanly in the pot.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

PantuaFried milk balls in syrup

Pantua is the Bengali answer to gulab jamun, but made with fresh chhena and a little semolina instead of only khoya, which gives a lighter, slightly grainy inside under a deep brown skin. It is the sweet of Jamai Sasthi, Bijoya visits and Sunday afternoons in Kolkata, often with a hidden cardamom seed or nugget of sugar at the centre. The common mistake is under-kneading the chhena: if the dough is crumbly the balls crack and drink oil. Knead until it feels smooth and leaves a film of fat on your palm. Chef's tip: let the syrup and the fried pantua both be warm, not boiling, when they meet, so the balls soak up syrup without collapsing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

LavasaThin leavened flatbread

Every Kashmiri neighbourhood has its kandur, the baker who slaps breads onto the walls of a clay tandoor before dawn, and lavasa is the thin, soft, bubbly sheet bought for the afternoon or for wrapping hot seekh kebabs at weddings. It is lightly leavened, a little chewy and faintly smoky, and is eaten with noon chai or with harissa in winter. At home a very hot heavy pan or a pizza stone does a fine job. The common mistake is rolling it too thick; lavasa should be thin enough to see light through at the edges. Chef's tip: stack the breads under a clean cloth as they come off the heat, so the steam keeps them soft and foldable.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Thambili (king coconut water)

All along Sri Lanka's roads, from Galle Road in Colombo to the highways into Kandy and the beaches of the south coast, vendors stack bright orange king coconuts in pyramids under umbrellas. The thambili is a variety grown on the island for drinking: smaller than a green coconut and sweeter, with a faint saltiness that makes it more refreshing than any bottled drink. It is drunk any time of day in the heat, after a long bus ride, after a cricket match, and given to people recovering from a fever because it is gentle on the stomach. The water is clear, lightly sweet and nutty, and the soft jelly inside is eaten with a spoon made from a slice of the husk. The common mistake is hacking at the side of the nut; the blade glances off and the water spills. Trim the pointed top with downward strokes until a pale circle shows, then pierce it. It is ready to drink when a small hole opens straight into the water without husk fibres. Outside Sri Lanka, young green or Thai coconuts are the nearest substitute. Chef's tip: chill the coconuts for a few hours before opening; the water tastes sweeter cold, and use a heavy knife and a towel, keeping fingers well clear.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bhang ki chutneyRoasted hemp seed chutney

In Kumaon every kitchen keeps a jar of hemp seeds, and this tangy chutney is ground fresh to go with rotis, aloo ke gutke and festive pakodas all through the year. It uses hulled, food-grade hemp seeds sold for cooking, which are not psychoactive at all; they simply taste like a cross between sesame and toasted pine nuts. The seeds are dry-roasted, ground with mint, chilli and the juice of the big hill lemon, and loosened with a little water. The usual mistake is roasting the seeds too dark, which turns the chutney bitter and grey. Chef's tip: grind in a mortar or with short pulses and stop while it still has some texture; a perfectly smooth paste loses the pleasant crunch.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Spremuta di arance rosseFresh blood orange juice

From December to April the orchards on the plain below Etna, around Catania, Lentini and Paternò, are heavy with Tarocco, Moro and Sanguinello blood oranges. The cold Etna nights turn their flesh red, and in Catania bars the barista squeezes them to order on a lever press, serving the spremuta beside a cornetto or a granita at breakfast. It is sweet, juicy and tart, tasting of orange with hints of raspberry and cherry, and the colour runs from streaky pink to deep garnet depending on the variety. The common mistake is squeezing the oranges hours ahead or pressing the white pith too hard: the juice turns bitter and the colour goes brown. Squeeze just before drinking, press gently and stop before you grind into the skin. It is ready when the juice is bright and frothy on top and tastes balanced, with no bitter aftertaste. Moro oranges give the darkest juice; Tarocco is sweetest. Outside Sicily, any blood orange works, or mix half ordinary oranges with half blood oranges. Chef's tip: roll each orange firmly on the counter before cutting; it softens the segments so you get more juice with less pressing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Caffè alla nocciolaEspresso with hazelnut cream

Naples takes its espresso seriously, and its bars along Via Toledo and the Lungomare also serve this richer cousin: a small glass cup smeared with hazelnut cream, a hot ristretto poured in, and a cap of cremina, the pale foam Neapolitans make by beating the first drops of coffee with sugar. It is drunk standing at the counter at mid-morning or after lunch as a little treat, and in summer the same flavours come as a cold crema al caffè. It tastes of roasted hazelnut and dark coffee, sweet and nutty, with a soft, airy foam that melts into the cup. The common mistake is whisking the cremina with too much coffee: it stays liquid and never turns pale. Use just a teaspoon of the first, thick drops and beat hard. It is ready when the foam is light beige, thick and falls from the spoon in ribbons. Espresso means a fair amount of caffeine, so keep this one for grown-ups. Chef's tip: warm the glass under hot water first and swirl the hazelnut cream up the sides; the hot coffee melts it into stripes as it goes in.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Citron presséFresh lemon drink

Order a citron pressé on a Paris terrace in July, or at a café in Nice after the beach, and the waiter brings a tall glass with an inch of freshly squeezed lemon juice, a carafe of iced water, a sugar bowl or a little jug of syrup and a long spoon. You build the drink yourself, as sharp or as sweet as you like, which is half the pleasure; French children learn to drink it with plenty of sugar, grown-ups often with almost none. It is bright, sour and cleansing, nothing like bottled lemonade, and best in the late afternoon heat. The common mistake is stirring granulated sugar straight into cold lemon water: it sinks and never dissolves, so the first sips are sour and the last a sludge. Dissolve the sugar in the juice first, or use a quick syrup. It is ready when the sugar has vanished, the drink tastes balanced to you and the glass is beaded with cold. Unwaxed lemons matter if you add a twist of peel. Chef's tip: pour the water over ice slowly and taste after half the carafe; most people find they need less water than they expect.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BelgramiChewy fresh cheese sweet

Belgrami belongs to Udwantnagar in Bihar's Bhojpur district, where sweet makers have cooked it for generations and travellers buy boxes on the way through. Fresh chhena is cooked down with sugar until it firms into a dense, slightly chewy, pale cream block with a gentle caramel note, then cut into pieces. It keeps for days, which makes it a favourite gift at weddings and Chhath. The common mistake is stopping too early: it must cook until the mass pulls into one lump and no longer sticks to the pan, or the pieces stay soft and weep. Chef's tip: use chhena from full-fat cow's milk and hang it for an hour, so it is dry enough to cook down quickly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Caffè lecceseEspresso with almond milk over ice

In Lecce and the towns of Salento, summer mornings start at the bar with a caffè in ghiaccio, and the local version, a fairly recent invention now poured everywhere from Otranto to Gallipoli, adds a pour of latte di mandorla: the sweet almond-milk syrup Puglian bakers have made for generations from local almonds. A short glass is filled with ice, the almond syrup goes in, and a hot espresso is poured straight over so it cracks the ice and blends into a pale, cold, nutty coffee. It is sweet without being sticky, with a marzipan aroma and a clean bitter finish. The common mistake is letting the espresso cool before pouring: it no longer melts and mixes with the dense syrup, which then sits at the bottom. Pull the shot and pour it at once, then stir. It is ready when the drink is evenly caramel-coloured and the glass feels icy. Lecce bars serve it from about May to late September, often with a pasticciotto. Espresso means a fair hit of caffeine. Chef's tip: if you can only find unsweetened almond drink, stir 1 tsp of sugar into it first, but real Puglian almond syrup gives the true taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kafae boran (old-style Thai coffee)

Before espresso bars reached Bangkok, coffee in Thailand meant kafae boran from Hainanese-Chinese shophouses and market carts: a dark robusta roast mixed with toasted grains, poured through a long cotton sock called a tung tom and stirred into thick sweetened condensed milk. Uncles still order it hot at 6 am with patongko dough sticks, and in the afternoon heat the same brew is poured over crushed ice and topped with evaporated milk as oliang or kafae yen. The taste is strong, roasty and slightly smoky, sweet and creamy, with a faint caramel-cereal edge from the grains; the iced version is silky and cold. The common mistake is brewing it like filter coffee with too little grounds: once milk and ice go in, it tastes thin. Use plenty, steep it in the sock and pour it through twice. The brew is ready when it is opaque, nearly black and leaves a brown film on a white spoon. It is high in caffeine, so not one for children or late evenings. Chef's tip: rinse the cloth sock in hot water only, never soap, and keep it in a jar of clean water in the fridge between uses so the coffee oils season it.

10 minThaiDrinksGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Nam lamyai (longan drink)

Longan orchards cover the valleys of Chiang Mai and Lamphun, and every August the harvest is smoked and dried in big brick ovens so the fruit lasts all year. That dried lamyai is the base of nam lamyai, sold in plastic bags with a straw at Warorot Market, at roadside stalls on the way to Doi Suthep and in school canteens across the north, especially in the hot season from March to May. It tastes like toffee and smoked honey with a light floral note, and each glass comes with a few plump, chewy longans at the bottom to fish out. The common mistake is boiling the fruit too long with all the sugar at the start: the drink turns syrupy and the longans go mushy. Simmer the fruit first, sweeten at the end and taste before adding everything. It is ready when the liquid is clear amber-brown, the longans have swollen back to roughly their fresh size and the kitchen smells of caramel. It keeps 4 days in a closed jug in the fridge. Chef's tip: a tiny pinch of salt is the street-vendor trick that makes the sweetness taste rounder and brings out the smoky edge.

30 minThaiDrinksVeganGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Diabolo mentheMint syrup and lemonade

Ask anyone who grew up in France about diabolo menthe and they will remember sitting on a café terrace after school, or on holiday in Brittany or the Vendée, with a tall glass of startling green fizz and a straw. It is simply sirop de menthe, the sweet mint syrup sold in every French supermarket, topped up with limonade, which in France means a clear, lightly sweet, lemony fizzy drink. Grenadine makes a diabolo grenadine, lemon syrup a diabolo citron. It tastes cool, minty and sweet, like a liquid mint sweet, with a sharp sparkle. The common mistake is pouring the syrup on top of the lemonade: it sinks in a dense layer and you drink plain fizz followed by pure syrup. Put the syrup in the glass first and pour the lemonade down the side so it mixes as it rises. It is ready when the glass is an even mint-green from bottom to top and still fizzing hard. Café ratio is about one part syrup to seven parts lemonade. Chef's tip: for a homemade syrup, steep a big handful of fresh mint in hot sugar syrup for 30 minutes and strain; it will be pale gold-green rather than emerald, and tastes fresher.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dudh pithaRice dumplings in milk

Dudh pitha is made in Jharkhand and Bihar for Makar Sankranti, Sohrai and winter evenings, when the new rice is milled: small rice-flour dumplings are stuffed with coconut and jaggery (some families use spiced chana dal instead) and simmered in milk until it thickens around them. It is eaten warm from a bowl with a spoon. The common mistake is adding jaggery straight to boiling milk, which can curdle it; sweeten the milk with sugar and keep the jaggery inside the dumplings. Chef's tip: shape the dumplings while the dough is warm and keep your palms greased, so the edges seal without cracking.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Caffè shakeratoShaken iced espresso

When July heat settles over Italian piazzas, bar regulars from Rome to Bologna switch their morning or after-lunch espresso for a shakerato. The barista pulls a fresh shot, tips it into a cocktail shaker with ice and sugar, shakes hard for fifteen seconds and strains it into a chilled martini or wine glass, where it settles into a dark body under a thick, beige, mousse-like crema. It tastes intense and bittersweet, colder and smoother than iced coffee, with a texture almost like a light cream. The common mistake is using too little ice or shaking half-heartedly: the coffee stays warm and the foam collapses within seconds. Fill the shaker at least half full with ice and shake until the metal is too cold to hold comfortably. It is ready when you hear the ice rattle softly and the shaker frosts over, and the pour has a thick foam on top. One shaker holds one double espresso, so it is fairly strong in caffeine. Chef's tip: dissolve the sugar in the hot espresso before adding ice; granulated sugar barely melts once the coffee is cold.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Melon juice (cantaloupe drink)

Afternoon merienda across the Philippines means something cold from a plastic cooler at the school gate, a jeepney stop or a carinderia: sago't gulaman, buko juice or this melon drink, with ribbons of orange cantaloupe suspended in sweet water. Vendors scrape the melon with a special spiral shredder, a kayod ng melon, so you get thin strands to chew through a fat straw. It tastes fresh, sweet and gently musky, more refreshing than a smoothie because the water stays clear and light; some stalls add evaporated milk, but the plain version is the classic. The common mistake is using a melon that is not fully ripe, which gives pale, crunchy strands and a flat drink; choose one that smells sweet at the stem end and gives slightly when pressed there. Shred straight into the jug so the juice from the melon is not lost. It is ready when the strands are soft and floating, the water has turned faintly orange and it tastes of melon rather than plain syrup. Chef's tip: a box grater's coarse side or a fork scraped along the flesh both work if you don't own a melon shredder.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Paneer soda (rose soda)

Every Tamil town once had a soda shop with crates of Codd-neck bottles sealed by a glass marble, and the pop of the marble being pushed down was the sound of a hot afternoon. Paneer here means rose water, not cheese, and paneer soda is rose syrup topped with that sharp local fizz, sold in Madurai, Tiruchi and Coimbatore by the bus stand and at temple festival stalls in Chithirai and Vaikasi, the hottest months. It is sweet and floral at first, then the bubbles and a touch of lime cut through and leave the mouth clean. The mistake most people make is boiling the rose water with the sugar: the scent cooks away and you are left with plain syrup. Make the syrup first, let it cool, and only then stir in the rose water. The syrup is ready when it is clear and slightly thickened, like thin honey, and the finished drink should be rosy pink and still foaming as you hand it over. Chef's tip: chill the syrup, the soda and the glasses well; warm soda loses its fizz the moment it meets the syrup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Suanmeitang (sour plum drink)

Old Beijing sold suanmeitang from brass bowls at street corners in summer, chilled with blocks of river ice, and the Qing court drank a version as a cooler. Today it comes in big jugs at copper-pot hotpot restaurants, where its sourness cuts through mutton and sesame sauce; families brew a pot every few days all summer. Smoked wumei plums give a deep, almost bacon-like smokiness, hawthorn adds fruity acid, licorice softens the edges and rock sugar rounds everything off, with dried osmanthus on top for a honeyed scent. It should be dark ruby, clear and refreshing, tart first and sweet after. The common mistake is boiling it hard for hours: the plum stones and hawthorn seeds release bitterness and the brew turns muddy. Simmer gently, strain early and chill fast. It is ready when the plums have collapsed and the liquid tastes clearly sour-sweet with a smoky finish. Licorice root is traditionally used in small amounts; people with high blood pressure, heart or kidney problems, or who are pregnant should keep the licorice out or check with a doctor. Chef's tip: add the osmanthus only after the heat is off, or its perfume vanishes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

JholiYogurt and gram flour kadhi

Jholi is the thin, everyday kadhi of Kumaon, cooked when there is curd in the house and no time for pakoras, and spooned over rice for a quick lunch. It is tempered with jakhya, a tiny crunchy hill seed with a mustardy bite, and coloured gold with turmeric. Because there are no fritters, it is lighter and tangier than a Punjabi kadhi. The common mistake is letting it boil before the gram flour has cooked in, which splits the curd into grains. Chef's tip: keep stirring in one direction until the first bubble; after that the jholi is stable and can simmer on its own.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Gondhoraj gholLime-scented yogurt drink

In Kolkata the gondhoraj lime arrives with the monsoon heat, a knobbly green fruit whose peel smells of flowers and pine more than of sour citrus. Bengali households use it to lift dal and fish, but in the sticky months from Boishakh into Srabon it goes into ghol: dahi churned with cold water until frothy, sweetened lightly and scented with the zest, a squeeze of juice and a torn leaf. Cafés along Gariahat and old sweet shops serve it in clay bhaar cups after lunch, and it is just as good mid-afternoon with a plate of muri. It drinks thin, cool and silky, with a soft tang and a perfume that hits the nose before the first sip. The usual mistake is grating too deep or leaving the zest to sit for an hour: the white pith and the oils turn bitter. Take only the green outer layer, add it just before serving, and stop when the ghol smells floral rather than sharp. It is ready when the top is covered in fine foam and a spoon comes out lightly coated. Chef's tip: for the salted version, swap the sugar for black salt and a pinch of roasted cumin, as many Kolkata homes do on the hottest days.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Juhua cha (chrysanthemum tea)

The small white hangbaiju flowers grown around Tongxiang, near Hangzhou, are picked in November, steamed and dried, and they end up in teapots all over China. Families brew them after a rich dinner, through the dry autumn, and iced in summer; dim sum houses in the south offer them as a caffeine-free choice, often mixed with pu-erh. The tea is pale gold, lightly floral with a faint bitterness like chamomile, softened by a little rock sugar and a few goji berries that turn plump and red in the pot. The common mistake is pouring boiling water straight onto the flowers and leaving them for twenty minutes; the tea turns brownish and bitter. Water just off the boil, around 90 °C, and a short steep keep it clear and sweet. It is ready when the flowers have opened like little daisies, the colour is light amber and the smell is honey-like. You can top up the pot two or three times. If you are allergic to ragweed, daisies or marigolds, try a small cup first or skip it, as chrysanthemum belongs to the same family. Chef's tip: for iced juhua cha, brew it double strength and pour it straight over a glass full of ice so it does not taste watery.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AppelflapApple puff pastry

An appelflap is the snack Amsterdammers pick up at the bakery counter or the Albert Cuyp market on a grey afternoon: a triangle of flaky puff pastry, packed with soft cinnamon apple and plump raisins, its top crackling with sugar. You eat it from a paper bag on a bench by the canal, or with a coffee at about four o'clock, and the filling is always hotter than you expect. Chef's tip: cook the apple filling first and let it cool completely; warm filling melts the butter in the pastry and you lose the layers.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KabokPuffed rice and sesame balls

Kabok are crunchy balls of puffed rice and sesame bound with hot jaggery syrup, made in Meitei homes for Yaoshang, Cheiraoba and temple offerings. Black puffed rice is used in some villages, giving dark, toasty kabok. The key is the syrup: cook it to the hard-ball stage, when a drop in cold water sets into a firm ball, or the balls will fall apart. The common mistake is shaping with dry hands; wet them so the hot mixture doesn't stick or burn. Chef's tip: warm the puffed rice in the oven for a few minutes first so it stays crisp.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Variyali sharbat (fennel cooler)

On May afternoons in Ahmedabad and Surat, when the loo wind blows and nobody wants a hot drink, Gujarati homes keep a bottle of variyali sharbat concentrate in the fridge. Fennel seeds are soaked, ground with rock sugar, strained and mixed with lemon and a little black pepper, then diluted with iced water for guests, after lunch, or to break a fast, since nothing in it is off-limits on upvas days if you use rock salt. It is pale green and cloudy, with a sweet aniseed taste, a sharp lemon finish and a faint peppery tingle. The common mistake is grinding dry fennel straight away: it stays gritty and the flavour is harsh. Soak the seeds for at least two hours so they swell and grind into a smooth paste. It is ready when the strained concentrate is silky, smells clearly of fennel and tastes very sweet, as it will be diluted three or four times. The concentrate keeps 5 days in the fridge in a clean bottle. Chef's tip: add a few mint leaves or a pinch of cardamom when grinding for a more rounded cooler.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hongzao guiyuan cha (red date and longan tea)

Across southern China, from Fujian to Guangdong, a pot of red dates and dried longan is what mothers and grandmothers put on the stove when the weather turns cold, and it is the classic drink brought to new mothers during zuo yuezi, the month of rest after childbirth. It is also sipped through the winter in the afternoon, or offered to visitors at Lunar New Year because the red dates promise sweetness ahead. The tea is amber-brown, naturally sweet and fruity, with a caramel, smoky depth from the longan and a gentle warmth if you add ginger. The common mistake is simmering whole dates: their skins stay tight and the tea tastes thin. Slit or tear each date so the flesh can give up its sweetness, then simmer slowly. It is ready when the dates are puffed and soft, the longan has swollen and the liquid is the colour of weak tea and tastes of toffee. It is traditionally drunk for comfort and warmth, not as a medicine; it is high in natural sugar, so go easy if you watch your blood sugar, and goji can interact with blood-thinning medicines, so check with a doctor if you take them. Chef's tip: eat the softened fruit from the bottom of the cup with a spoon; nothing is wasted.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tisane de tilleul (linden tea)

Carpentras, at the foot of Mont Ventoux, has been France's linden capital for over a century. In late June the flowering lime trees are harvested by hand, the blossoms and their pale papery bracts dried in the shade, and in July the town's linden market sells them by the sack. In French homes a tisane de tilleul is what you drink after dinner, at the end of a long day or before bed, often with a slice of lemon or a little honey; Proust's famous madeleine was dipped in one. It tastes softly floral and sweet, a little like honey and fresh hay, with a smooth, almost silky feel. The common mistake is using fully boiling water and steeping for fifteen minutes: the tea turns dull brown and slightly astringent. Let the kettle settle to about 90 °C and steep for 5–7 minutes, covered. It is ready when the infusion is pale gold and smells of a summer garden. It is traditionally drunk to unwind; if you take regular medication, have a heart condition, or want to give it to young children, check with a doctor first. Chef's tip: keep the pot covered while it steeps so the scented oils stay in the tea instead of the kitchen.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SobachaRoasted buckwheat tea

Sobacha is roasted buckwheat tea, drunk all over Japan and especially in the soba country of Nagano and Hokkaido, where it is poured free in noodle shops and kept in jugs in the fridge through summer. Toasted buckwheat groats are steeped in hot water to make a golden, caffeine-free tea with a nutty, almost popcorn aroma, and the softened groats can be eaten too, stirred into rice or salads. Nothing is added: no salt, no sugar, so about 0.0 g salt per cup. The usual mistake is burning the groats when roasting your own; keep the heat at medium and keep the pan moving. Use Tartary buckwheat (dattan soba) for a deeper yellow tea. Anyone with a buckwheat allergy should avoid it, as reactions can be serious. Chef's tip: steep a second time with slightly hotter water; the second cup is often the sweetest.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Oksusu-chaRoasted corn tea

Oksusu-cha is the tea Korean households boil by the kettleful and keep in the fridge in old glass bottles, drunk instead of water with meals from Seoul apartments to Gangwon farmhouses, chilled in summer and hot in winter. Dried corn kernels are roasted until dark golden, then simmered to make a pale amber tea that tastes gently sweet and toasty, though nothing is added at all. About 0.0 g salt per glass. The usual mistake is boiling the kernels too long, which makes the tea cloudy and starchy; 15 minutes is plenty. Ready-roasted corn kernels are sold in Korean shops; if roasting your own, use dried corn, not fresh or tinned. Chef's tip: mix in a spoon of roasted barley for the classic boricha blend, rounder and more nutty, though no longer gluten free.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hiyashi tomatoChilled tomato

Hiyashi tomato is the simplest thing on any Japanese izakaya menu in July and August: ripe tomatoes, chilled until icy, cut into wedges and served on a small plate, sometimes on crushed ice, to cool down a hot evening in Tokyo or Osaka. Many bars sprinkle salt; this home version leaves it out and offers a few drops of rice vinegar and toasted sesame oil instead, so the tomato's own sweetness and acidity do the work. About 0.0 g added salt; roughly 0.03 g per portion occurs naturally in the tomato. The usual mistake is using hard, pale supermarket tomatoes: this dish is only as good as the fruit, so buy deep red ones that smell of tomato at the stalk. Chef's tip: chill the plate as well as the tomatoes, so the wedges stay cold to the last bite.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Rau sốngFresh herb and vegetable plate

Rau sống, literally 'raw vegetables', is the heaped plate of lettuce, herbs and cucumber that sits in the middle of the table at almost every Vietnamese meal, from Hanoi bún chả to a Saigon family dinner. Everyone tears leaves to wrap grilled food, drops herbs into soup or eats them alongside rice. Nothing is added: no salt, no dressing. About 0.1 g salt per portion, naturally present in the greens. Seasoning comes from whatever dipping sauce is on the table, so a light hand there keeps the whole meal low in salt. The usual mistake is leaving the herbs wet; water dilutes the flavour and makes them wilt fast. Use whatever mix you can find: Thai basil, perilla (tía tô), Vietnamese balm (kinh giới), mint and coriander are classics. Chef's tip: soak the herbs in very cold water for 10 minutes, then spin dry; they become crisp and glossy and last through the whole meal.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ipoh white coffee

Ipoh's old town kopitiams, with their marble tables and morning crowds queueing for kai si hor fun and egg tarts, gave Malaysia its 'white coffee'. The name comes not from milk but from the roast: beans are roasted with palm-oil margarine, lighter than the dark, sugar-roasted kopi of the rest of the country, then brewed and served with condensed milk. It is smoother and less bitter than ordinary kopi, nutty and buttery, pale caramel in the cup, drunk hot at breakfast or iced in the afternoon heat. At home, buy ground Ipoh-style white coffee from an Asian grocer; you cannot easily reproduce the margarine roast in a kitchen. The common mistake is brewing it like espresso: forced extraction makes it bitter and kills the soft, toasty flavour. Steep it in a cloth sock or a coffee filter with water just off the boil. It is ready when the brew is reddish-brown and clear, not inky. This is a strong coffee with real caffeine, not for children. Chef's tip: warm the cups with hot water first; white coffee cools fast and loses its aroma.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Limau asam boi (lime with sour plum)

Order 'limau ais asam boi' at a kopitiam in Penang or a hawker centre in Kuala Lumpur at the hottest part of the afternoon and it arrives in a tall, sweating glass: freshly squeezed calamansi or small green limes, a little syrup, ice and one wrinkled, salted dried plum. The plum slowly leaches salt and fruity sourness into the drink, so every sip changes, starting bright and sweet and ending salty and tangy; you squash the plum with your straw halfway through for a stronger hit. It goes with char kway teow, nasi lemak or anything fried. The usual mistake is using bottled lime juice, which tastes flat and bitter against the plum. Squeeze fresh limes, and add the syrup gradually because asam boi is already salty-sweet. It is ready when the glass is frosted and the plum has started to plump up. Asam boi is sold in jars in Chinese and Southeast Asian groceries; Japanese umeboshi is saltier but works if you halve the amount. Chef's tip: make the lime-syrup base ahead and keep it cold, then pour over fresh ice only when you serve.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Agua de tuna (prickly pear drink)

Late summer is tuna season across the central highlands, from Hidalgo and the Estado de México down to Puebla's Teotihuacán valley, and that is when the big vitroleros in markets and taquerías turn shocking pink. Agua de tuna is just the cactus fruit blended with water, lime and a little sugar, strained, and poured over ice with lunch. Red tunas give a vivid colour and a taste between watermelon and pear; green ones make a paler, more herbal drink. It should be light and thirst-quenching, never syrupy. The commonest mistake is blending too long: the hard seeds crack and the agua turns gritty and slightly bitter. Pulse briefly, just enough to free the pulp, then strain well. It is ready when the liquid runs smooth through the sieve and tastes clearly of fruit with only a lift of lime. Handle unpeeled tunas with tongs or gloves: even 'cleaned' ones keep tiny glochids. Chef's tip: chill the peeled fruit before blending; cold pulp keeps its colour bright and needs less ice to dilute it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TejateMaize and cacao drink

In the markets of Oaxaca city and San Andrés Huayápam, women sit behind wide painted gourds of tejate, scooping it into jícaras for anyone who needs cooling down in the hot middle of the day; it turns up at Guelaguetza in July, at village fiestas and at every Sunday tianguis. The base is maize, cooked with wood ash, ground on a metate with toasted cacao beans, the roasted kernel of the mamey seed (pixtle) and dried rosita de cacao flowers. That paste is worked by hand into cold water until a thick, beige foam rises and floats. Each sip is cool, earthy and faintly bitter, like cocoa without milk, with grainy body below and the airy flor on top; you sweeten it to taste with a thin sugar syrup. The usual mistake is mixing too fast with lots of water at once: the paste never emulsifies and no foam forms. Add water a little at a time and keep lifting and dropping the paste with your hand. It is ready when a firm, creamy foam a finger thick sits on the surface. Pixtle must be thoroughly roasted and only used in the small amount given, as raw mamey seed is not safe to eat. Chef's tip: grind everything twice; the finer the paste, the taller and longer-lasting the flor.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Agua de chilacayoteFig-leaf squash drink

When the big, mottled chilacayote squashes ripen at the end of the rains, cooks in Oaxaca's valleys and the Mixteca of Puebla turn them into a drink you eat with a spoon. The flesh is cooked with dark piloncillo and cinnamon until it falls into translucent threads, then cooled and loosened with water; in Oaxaca it is ladled out of clay jars at fairs, weddings and the Day of the Dead, often with a little pineapple. It tastes like cinnamon-scented panela, with soft, slightly crunchy strands that slide up the straw. The usual mistake is boiling it to mush; overcooked flesh goes cloudy and the strands disappear. Simmer gently and stop when the threads separate easily with a fork but still have a little bite. It is ready when the syrup is amber and the strands look glassy. Chilacayote is hard to find outside Mexico; spaghetti squash is the best substitute and gives the same threads. Keeps 3 days in the fridge. Chef's tip: grate a little orange zest into the pot in the last minute to brighten the piloncillo.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Refresco de coconaCocona cooler

In Iquitos, Pucallpa and the river towns of Loreto, heat and humidity make a cold refresco part of every lunch, and cocona is one of the favourites sold from plastic jugs at the Belén market. The fruit looks like a fuzzy orange tomato and tastes between tomato, lemon and apricot: very sour, aromatic and juicy. Blended with water and sugar it makes a tangy, golden drink with a light pulp, served with juane or tacacho con cecina. The usual mistake is skipping the fuzz: cocona skin is covered in fine hairs that make the drink scratchy, so rub them off under running water before you start. Blend only briefly, too, so the many seeds do not crack. It is ready when the refresco is opaque orange, sour first and sweet after, with no grit. Outside the Amazon, look for frozen cocona pulp in Latin American shops; naranjilla (lulo) pulp is the closest substitute. Chef's tip: a pinch of salt makes the fruit taste sweeter and fruitier without more sugar.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Colada moradaPurple corn and berry drink

Every year in the days before 2 November, the Día de los Difuntos, Quito's kitchens and bakeries fill with the smell of colada morada: a warm, spoon-thick drink of purple corn flour cooked with blackberries, blueberries, pineapple and a bundle of fragrant herbs and spices. It is deep violet, sweet-tart and full of chopped fruit, and it is always served with guaguas de pan, the bread babies, often shared with family at the cemetery. The most common mistake is stirring the corn flour straight into hot liquid, which makes lumps: whisk it into cold water first. Chef's tip: lemon verbena and lemongrass give the authentic perfume; if you can find naranjilla or a few orange leaves, add them to the spice pot too.

100 minAndeanDrinksVeganGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

UmbuzadaUmbu and milk drink

The umbu tree is the pride of the sertão, the dry interior of Bahia, Pernambuco and Piauí: its swollen roots store water through the drought, and when the rains come between January and March it covers itself in small green-gold fruit. Families gather them by the sackful, and umbuzada, the fruit cooked and blended with milk and sugar, is drunk cold in the afternoon heat or eaten thick as a light supper. It tastes sharply sour and sweet at the same time, creamy and fruity, a little like a gooseberry milkshake. The common mistake is blending hot, acidic pulp with milk, which makes it curdle into grainy flecks. Cool the pulp completely, mix the sugar into the pulp before the milk goes in, and serve soon after blending. It is ready when it is smooth, pale yellow-green and coats the glass. Outside Brazil, look for frozen umbu pulp in Brazilian shops; failing that, use cajá (yellow mombin) pulp or tart green plums cooked the same way. Keep any leftovers in the fridge and drink within a day. Chef's tip: for the thick version eaten with a spoon, halve the milk and serve it in a bowl with a sprinkle of farinha or crushed cuscuz.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jugo surtidoMixed fruit juice

Step up to any juguería in Lima's Mercado de Surquillo or a barrio market at breakfast time and order a surtido: the juicer drops papaya, banana, pineapple and freshly squeezed orange into a tall blender, sometimes a slice of cooked beetroot for colour or a splash of milk, and pours you a big glass with the rest left in the jug for your 'yapa', the free refill. It is thick but still pourable, sweet from ripe fruit with a sharp orange edge, the kind of drink that stands in for breakfast before a long day. The common mistake is adding lots of ice and water, which makes it thin and frothy rather than velvety. Use cold fruit and freshly squeezed orange juice as the liquid. It is ready when it coats the glass and no lumps of banana are left. This version is fruit only; stalls also make it with milk if you prefer. Drink it straight away: papaya and banana go brown and bitter within half an hour. Chef's tip: use very ripe papaya with orange flesh; under-ripe papaya tastes of nothing and gives a faintly bitter aftertaste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mate de muñaAndean mint tea

Muña is the minty shrub that grows wild on the slopes around Cusco, Puno and the Sacred Valley, and highland cooks reach for it after a heavy meal of chicharrón or when visitors are struggling with the altitude. Market herb sellers sell it in fresh bunches, and hotels and homes leave it in a flask for anyone coming in from the cold evenings. Steeped simply in hot water, it smells somewhere between spearmint, oregano and pennyroyal, with a cooling, slightly peppery taste and a pale green-gold colour. It is traditionally drunk to settle the stomach. The usual mistake is boiling the leaves hard for a long time, which turns the tea brown and bitter. Pour water just off the boil over the sprigs, cover, and let it steep. It is ready when the cup is pale gold and the aroma rises as soon as you lift the lid. Outside Peru, look for dried muña in Latin shops; failing that, use mostly spearmint with a little fresh oregano. Muña is strong: avoid large amounts in pregnancy, and check with a doctor if you take regular medication. Chef's tip: cover the cup while it steeps so the scented oils stay in the tea.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Parwal ki mithaiStuffed candied pointed gourd

Parwal ki mithai surprises anyone who knows pointed gourd only as a curry vegetable: in Bihar and eastern Uttar Pradesh sweet makers peel the gourds, candy them in syrup until translucent, then fill them with sweetened mawa and nuts. They sit in shop windows at Diwali, Chhath and weddings, often glinting with silver leaf. The common mistake is undercooking the gourds before candying, which leaves them crunchy and vegetal; blanch until a knife slides in easily. Silver leaf (vark) is optional; choose one certified vegetarian. Chef's tip: scrape out every seed carefully, because even a few hard seeds spoil the soft bite.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ju hua chaChrysanthemum tea

Ju hua cha is chrysanthemum tea, a summer staple in Hangzhou, where the famous small white Hang bai ju flowers grow, and across Guangdong and Hong Kong, where it is poured at dim sum and sold chilled in street-side stalls. Dried flowers open in hot water into a pale golden, honey-scented infusion with a gentle bitterness. It is drunk plain here: no salt and no sugar, so about 0.0 g salt per cup. The usual mistake is using boiling water, which turns it harsh; let the kettle rest for a minute first. A few goji berries add colour and a little natural sweetness. Chef's tip: rinse the dried flowers quickly in warm water first to wash off dust and wake up their fragrance.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sooth pakDry ginger fudge squares

In Saurashtra a new mother is handed a tin of sooth pak within days of giving birth, and the rest of the family quietly helps themselves when winter colds arrive. It is a small, potent square: plenty of dry ginger roasted in ghee, softened by jaggery and wheat flour, with a little puffed gum and coconut for texture, so one piece warms you right through. The mistake to avoid is roasting the ginger powder on its own in very hot ghee, which scorches it in seconds and leaves the pak bitter. Chef's tip: grind dry ginger root yourself in a spice grinder just before cooking; the flavour is far brighter than old packet powder.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MorochoCracked white corn drink

Morocho is what Quiteños drink on a chilly evening at a market stall, often with a crisp empanada de morocho alongside: cracked white corn simmered for an hour with milk, cinnamon and cloves until it turns into a thick, creamy drink you half sip, half spoon, studded with plump raisins. It tastes like a gently spiced rice pudding made with corn. The usual mistake is adding the milk too early and not stirring, so it catches and scorches on the bottom of the pan. Chef's tip: soak the corn overnight; it cooks faster and more evenly and turns properly creamy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Suco de cajáHog plum juice

Walk along the beach barracas of Salvador or into any lanchonete in Recife and the juice board will list cajá near the top. The small yellow fruit, from tall trees that grow wild across Bahia and the Northeast, is too sour to eat out of hand but makes a juice with a scent that people there treat as a taste of home: floral, sharp and tropical, a little like passion fruit and mango crossed with lime. It is drunk ice-cold with lunch, with a plate of moqueca, or after an afternoon in the sun. Most Brazilians use frozen pulp, which keeps the fragrance well. The common mistake is drowning it in sugar or blending it with too much water so the perfume disappears; cajá should taste lively and tart, so sweeten lightly and taste as you go. It is ready when it is a bright golden-yellow, lightly frothy, and smells floral as soon as you lift the jug. Outside Brazil, look for frozen cajá pulp in Latin American shops; the same fruit is sold as jobo or yellow mombin, or ciruela in Mexico. Chef's tip: blend with half ice and half water instead of all water for a frothier, colder juice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Glaçon râpéShaved ice with syrups

On a hot Sunday at Flic en Flac or Mon Choisy, families queue at the glaçon râpé man, who shaves a block of ice into a cup, then pours over bright red and green syrups and, if you ask, a thick ribbon of sweetened condensed milk. The ice should be fluffy and dry like fresh snow, so the syrup sinks in and streaks the colours together, and the condensed milk turns the bottom of the cup into a sweet, milky slush. A home blender makes a fine version if the ice is very cold; the common mistake is using ice straight from a bag that has half-thawed, which turns to watery slush. Chef's tip: put the cups and the blender jug in the freezer for 20 minutes first, then pulse in short bursts rather than running the motor.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

LesuWheat and finger millet roti

Lesu is a clever Garhwali farmhouse roti in which a small ball of mandua (finger-millet) dough is wrapped inside wheat dough and rolled out, so each bite has a soft wheat outside and a dark, earthy layer within. Families eat it for breakfast or dinner in winter with a big dollop of ghee, jaggery or a green saag. The millet adds minerals and a pleasant nutty taste. The common mistake is making the millet dough too dry, which cracks and pokes through the wheat when you roll. Chef's tip: knead the mandua dough with hot water and keep it as soft as the wheat dough, so the two roll out together.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TameletjiePine nut toffee

Children in old Cape Town spent their pocket money on tameletjie from the corner shop: amber slabs of hard toffee set in little folded paper cases, studded with pine nuts and sometimes almonds. It is nothing more than sugar and water boiled to the hard-crack stage, so it snaps cleanly and slowly melts on the tongue into a deep caramel with a faint bitterness, the toasted nuts adding a buttery crunch. Make it for a church bazaar, wrap it as a gift, or keep it in a tin for after-dinner coffee. Stirring once the syrup boils is what ruins most batches, because it makes the sugar crystallise into a cloudy, grainy mass. Hot sugar burns badly, so keep children well away from the pan. Chef's tip: brush the inside of the pan with a wet pastry brush as it boils to wash down any sugar crystals clinging to the sides.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Maesil-cha (green plum tea)

In early June the hillsides of Gwangyang are picked clean of hard green maesil, and Korean kitchens across the country fill with jars of plums buried in sugar. Over about a hundred days the sugar draws out the fruit's juice and becomes maesil-cheong, a golden syrup that is both a cooking ingredient and a drink. Iced, it is the summer cooler; hot, it is traditionally drunk after a heavy meal for digestion. It tastes bright and tart, like green apple and apricot, rounded by the sugar. The common mistake is putting damp plums or plums with stalks into the jar: water and stalk ends invite mould and unwanted fermentation. Pick out each stalk with a toothpick and dry the fruit completely. The syrup is ready when the plums have shrivelled and float in clear amber liquid. A little foaming early on is normal, but if it smells strongly of alcohol, grows fuzzy mould or turns slimy, discard it. Remove the plums at 100 days, because their stones contain natural compounds best kept out of a long-stored syrup. Chef's tip: use half white and half light brown sugar for a rounder, toffee-edged syrup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bissy tea (kola nut tea)

Kola trees came to Jamaica with enslaved West Africans, and the nut, called bissy on the island, has stayed in country medicine ever since. Older people in St Mary, St Elizabeth and the hills of Clarendon still keep a dried bissy in the kitchen and grate some into boiling water when the stomach is upset or after eating something that disagreed with them,. Parched in a dry pan first, the grated nut gives a reddish-brown tea that smells faintly of cocoa and tastes bitter and astringent, softened by plenty of sugar. The common mistake is boiling raw, ungrated nut and expecting much flavour: whole pieces give little. Grate it finely, parch it until it darkens and smells like toasted cocoa, then boil. It is ready when the tea is a deep reddish-brown and coats the tongue with bitterness. Kola nut is very high in caffeine, as strong as a big mug of coffee or more, so drink one cup, not late in the day, and keep it away from children, pregnant people and anyone sensitive to caffeine or with heart trouble. Chef's tip: strain it through a fine cloth; the grated nut leaves a gritty sediment that a sieve lets through.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TepacheFermented pineapple drink

In Guadalajara and markets across central Mexico, tepacheros sell this drink from big clay jars, ladled over ice into bags with a straw on hot afternoons. It is the thrifty drink of the house: the peel and core left after eating a pineapple are fermented for two or three days with piloncillo, cinnamon and cloves until the liquid turns golden, faintly fizzy and pleasantly sour, like a spiced pineapple cider. Wild yeasts from the peel do the work, so it makes a trace of alcohol, well under 1% when drunk young; the longer it sits, the sourer and more alcoholic it gets. The common mistake is leaving it too long in a warm kitchen, when it turns vinegary and cloudy; in hot weather check after 36 hours. It is ready when it has a layer of fine bubbles, smells sweet-sour and fruity, and tastes tart rather than syrupy. White, flat foam can be skimmed; fuzzy, coloured mould, a slimy texture or a rotten smell mean throw it away. Keep it in the fridge 3–5 days, and if you bottle it for fizz, burp the bottles daily so pressure cannot build. Chef's tip: use an organic pineapple and do not scrub the peel, as the yeasts live on its skin.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jogi guiGrilled yellow croaker

Yellow croaker from Yeonggwang on Korea's west coast is so prized that dried gulbi are given as gifts at Chuseok, and a simply grilled or pan-roasted croaker is a classic of the family table and of ancestral memorial meals. The fish is salted, dried briefly and cooked whole until the skin crackles and the flesh comes away in sweet, moist flakes; you eat it with rice, kimchi and a few vegetable banchan. Suitable as part of a balanced diet: high in protein with no batter or flour. About 210 kcal and 1 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is turning the fish too early, so the skin tears and sticks; wait until it releases on its own. Small sea bream or red mullet work if you cannot find croaker. Chef's tip: pat the fish completely dry and leave it uncovered in the fridge for 30 minutes before cooking for the crispest skin.

25 minKoreanFishGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Atol de plátanoWarm plantain and milk drink

In Guatemalan markets, steaming pots of atol are sold from early morning: thick, sweet, drinkable porridges made from corn, rice, oats or, in this case, very ripe plantain blended with milk and cinnamon. Atol de plátano is creamy and fruity, a filling breakfast in a mug. The common mistake is boiling it hard after the milk goes in, which catches and burns on the bottom; keep it at a gentle bubble and stir. Chef's tip: simmer the plantain with the cinnamon in water first, then blend; this cooks the starch fully and gives a silky drink without any raw-banana taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Garbanzos en dulceChickpeas in spiced syrup

In Antigua Guatemala, where the Semana Santa processions walk over carpets of coloured sawdust, the kitchens fill with sweets in dark panela syrup, and chickpeas are among the first to be made. The peeled garbanzos are cooked tender and then simmered slowly in syrup with cinnamon, allspice and cloves until they turn mahogany and glossy, sweet right through but still holding their shape. They are eaten cold from small bowls, often beside sweet mango or fig preserves. Hurrying the syrup is the usual mistake: boil it hard and the chickpeas stay pale inside and the syrup tastes burnt. Chef's tip: rub off the chickpea skins after the first cooking; it takes ten minutes but lets the syrup soak in and gives a silky bite.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

HojichaRoasted green tea

Hojicha was born in Kyoto in the 1920s, when tea merchants started roasting the coarse late-season bancha leaves and stems over charcoal to sell what would not keep. Today the smell of tea roasting in a shop doorway is part of walking down Teramachi or past the Nishiki market. Roasting drives off much of the caffeine and all the grassy bitterness, so hojicha is the pot that comes out after an evening meal, with rice crackers, or for children and older relatives who avoid stronger tea. The cup is reddish brown, smells of caramel and roasted nuts, and tastes soft and slightly sweet with almost no astringency. Unlike sencha, it likes really hot water and a very short steep. The common mistake is treating it like black tea and leaving the leaves in for several minutes, which makes it flat and woody; 30 seconds is enough for the first pour, and the leaves give a good second pot. It is ready when the liquor is clear russet and the steam smells of toasted sugar. Chef's tip: if your packet has lost its perfume, warm the leaves in a dry pan for 30 seconds until they smoke very faintly before brewing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

RiguasSweet corn cakes

When the elote harvest comes in around August, roadside stalls between San Salvador and Santa Ana sell riguas: thick little cakes of freshly ground sweet corn cooked on a griddle on corn husks or banana leaf, so the outside caramelises while the middle stays soft and custardy. They are eaten warm for breakfast or merienda with thick cream and crumbled fresh cheese. The most common mistake is using starchy, old corn; the batter must be milky and sweet or the cakes turn dense and dry. Traditional queso fresco is made with animal rennet, so pick a vegetarian fresh cheese if that matters to you. Chef's tip: cook them over a medium-low heat with a lid on for the first few minutes; the steam sets the inside before the husk scorches.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Akajiso juice (red shiso cordial)

Bunches of red shiso fill Japanese greengrocers for a few weeks in June and July, mostly bought to colour umeboshi. Gardeners from Kyoto's Ohara valley to Kantō boil the surplus into this cordial and keep it in the fridge for hot afternoons. Simmering pulls a murky purple-brown liquid from the leaves; the magic is the moment the vinegar goes in and the whole pan flushes a brilliant clear magenta. Diluted with ice water or soda water it tastes sweet-sour and herbal, like a cross between blackcurrant, mint and cinnamon. The most common mistake is simmering the leaves too long or with the stems: it turns grassy and bitter. Strip the leaves, boil them for five minutes only, until they have turned green and limp, then lift them out. The cordial is ready when it is jewel-bright and clear. Bottle it in a clean, sterilised bottle and keep it in the fridge for up to three weeks; discard if it fizzes, clouds or grows mould. No fresh red shiso nearby? Japanese and Korean shops sometimes sell it in summer, and it grows easily from seed. Chef's tip: freeze some as ice cubes to drop into sparkling water.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TahoWarm tofu with syrup and sago

Before eight in the morning in any Philippine barangay you hear the call "Tahooo!" as the magtataho walks past with two aluminium buckets balanced on a shoulder pole: one holds warm, wobbly silken tofu, the other dark arnibal syrup and sago. He scoops paper-thin layers of tofu into a plastic cup with a flat ladle, pours syrup over and adds the pearls, and children eat it standing at the gate with a spoon or slurp it through a wide straw. The taste is caramel and soy milk; the texture is custard-soft tofu against chewy pearls. Baguio has its own pink strawberry version. The common mistake is cooking the sago in too little water or not stirring at the start, so the pearls glue into a lump; use plenty of boiling water and stir for the first two minutes. The sago is ready when the pearls are translucent with only a tiny white dot left in the centre, and the arnibal is right when it coats a spoon like thin maple syrup. Chef's tip: steam the tofu in its box or bowl rather than boiling it, so it stays in one silky piece. Small sago pearls are a choking risk for babies and toddlers, so serve them only to older children.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Calia e simenzaRoasted chickpeas and pumpkin seeds

Calia (toasted chickpeas) and simenza (salted pumpkin seeds) are sold together in twisted paper bags by the old caliari of Palermo, at the Festino of Santa Rosalia in July, along the Foro Italico seafront and outside the Teatro Massimo after a show. You crack the seeds with your teeth and chase them with the crunchy, nutty chickpeas, a habit that can last a whole evening. This home version roasts soaked dried chickpeas and salted seeds in the oven. Chef's tip: dry the soaked chickpeas really well; any surface water steams them instead of making them crunchy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Vellarikka pachadiCucumber yogurt curry

Vellarikka pachadi is one of the cooling yogurt dishes on the Kerala sadya, the banana-leaf feast served at Onam and weddings, and it turns up at everyday lunches across Thrissur and Kottayam too. Diced cucumber is softened briefly, then folded into thick yogurt with a paste of coconut, green chilli and crushed mustard seed, and finished with mustard seeds and curry leaves crackled in coconut oil. Coconut and curd carry the flavour, so it needs only a pinch of salt: about 0.25 g salt per portion. The usual mistake is adding the yogurt to hot cucumber, which splits it; let the cucumber cool first. Serve with rice and a dry vegetable thoran. Chef's tip: grind the coconut paste with a few raw mustard seeds; their gentle pungency is what makes a pachadi taste of Kerala.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sungnyung (scorched rice tea)

Before electric rice cookers, every Korean pot of rice left a golden crust, nurungji, stuck to the bottom. Rather than waste it, cooks poured in water and simmered it while the family ate, and the warm, cloudy sungnyung was drunk at the end of the meal in place of tea. Older Koreans still describe it as the taste of home, and many Seoul restaurants that cook rice in stone pots finish by pouring water over the crust at the table. It tastes of toasted grain and has a faint natural sweetness, with soft pieces of crust to spoon up at the bottom. Without a stone pot you can make the crust from leftover rice in a frying pan. The common mistake is rushing the crust over high heat: it blackens on the outside and turns the drink bitter while the middle stays soft. Keep the heat low and patient, and aim for even golden-brown. The crust is ready when it lifts away from the pan in one sheet and smells like popcorn; the sungnyung is ready when the water is milky and pale gold. Chef's tip: make extra crust, dry it completely and keep it in a jar, so you can make sungnyung in ten minutes any evening.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ragi maltFinger millet malt drink

Across Karnataka, from Bengaluru flats to farmhouses round Mandya and Mysuru, a mug of ragi malt is how many mornings start, especially for schoolchildren, older relatives and anyone heading out to work in the fields. Finger millet powder is whisked into water and cooked until it thickens, then loosened with hot milk and sweetened with jaggery and cardamom; the savoury version, beaten into buttermilk with salt, is drunk cold at lunch in summer. The sweet version is smooth, malty and nutty, mauve-brown, thicker than milk but still drinkable. The commonest mistake is tipping ragi powder straight into hot liquid: it seizes into stubborn lumps. Always whisk it into cold water first. It is ready when the raw, grassy smell has gone, the mixture turns glossy and darker, and it coats the back of a spoon. Add jaggery only off the heat, or the milk can split. For babies, skip the jaggery and ask your health visitor about introducing ragi. Chef's tip: sprouted ragi powder (the true 'malt') tastes sweeter and cooks faster; look for it in Indian shops.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Wiener MelangeCoffee with milk and foam

In Vienna you never simply order 'a coffee'; you order by name, and the Melange is the one most Viennese ask for. It arrives in a large cup on a small silver tray with a glass of water and often a tiny chocolate, and you may sit over it for an hour with the newspapers at Café Prückel or Hawelka, mid-morning or after lunch. Traditionally it is a mild, longer espresso (a Verlängerter) with roughly equal hot milk and a soft cap of milk foam; it is gentler than a cappuccino and the foam is looser and creamier. Expect a round, nutty, slightly sweet cup with little bitterness. The common mistake is overheating the milk: once it passes about 70 °C it smells cooked and loses its sweetness and the foam turns big-bubbled and dry. Stop when the jug is too hot to hold for more than a second or two. It is ready when the foam sits in a smooth, glossy dome about a finger thick and the coffee shows as a brown ring at the edge. One cup has about the caffeine of a single espresso. Chef's tip: always serve the glass of water alongside, as Vienna does; it is drunk first to clear the palate.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

SomóCold spiced corn drink

Somó is how Santa Cruz cools down: big tubs of chilled, sweet, cinnamon-scented corn water sold in markets and at the door of lowland homes, with soft kernels of white corn floating in every glass to be eaten with a spoon. It is a simple drink, but it needs time, because the dried corn must soak and then simmer until each kernel bursts open. People often serve it before the kernels have fully opened, and then they are hard and chalky. Chef's tip: add a strip of orange peel with the spices for a fresher note, as some cruceño grandmothers do.

100 minAndeanDrinksVeganGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sakin gataSticky rice and sesame cakes

During Wangala, the Garo harvest festival of drums and dancing each autumn, families steam sakin gata: sticky rice ground with black sesame, sweetened lightly and wrapped in leaves. The cakes are chewy, nutty and grey-black, shared with visitors and offered at the celebrations. The common mistake is grinding the rice too dry, which makes cakes that crack; the dough should feel like soft clay. Chef's tip: toast the sesame until it just starts to pop, no darker, or it turns bitter.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tsestalulu (sea-buckthorn juice)

Sea buckthorn grows wild along the river beds of Ladakh, and in Leh the bright orange berries are pressed into tsestalulu, a sharp, tropical-tasting juice sold in summer cafés and made at home after the autumn harvest. It is drunk chilled, sweetened with sugar or honey and thinned with cold water. The berries are very sour and slightly oily, so the juice is always diluted. The common mistake is boiling the pulp, which dulls both the colour and the fresh taste; just blend and strain. Chef's tip: frozen sea-buckthorn berries or plain unsweetened purée from health shops work very well; strain twice through a fine sieve for a silky drink.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

EshabweWhipped ghee sauce

Cattle-keeping families of Ankole in western Uganda serve this pale, fluffy sauce at weddings and introduction ceremonies, where making it well is a point of pride. Soft ghee is beaten by hand while cool salted water is added a spoonful at a time, until it turns from yellow to snowy white and as light as whipped cream, with a rich, buttery, salty taste. It goes over hot matoke, steamed sweet potatoes, katogo or kalo millet bread, and melts into them on the plate. It is vegetarian but not vegan, as it is made from cow's ghee. Chef's tip: everything must stay cool; if the ghee is warm or the water tepid it will never turn white, so chill the bowl and use water straight from the fridge.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bogobe jwa lerotseSorghum and melon porridge

When the lerotse melons ripen on the lands around Serowe and Mahalapye after the summer rains, households stir their pale flesh into the evening pot of sorghum, and the porridge turns soft, smooth and quietly sweet. Lerotse is a hard-skinned field melon, closer to a mild marrow than a dessert melon, so it melts into the bogobe and gives it a light, fresh taste against the sour, nutty grain. It is eaten as a side with seswaa, beans or morogo, or on its own for supper with a sprinkle of sugar. Outside Botswana, look for lerotse at African grocers; otherwise a firm cooking melon or a winter melon gives a very close result. Chef's tip: the mistake people make is dumping the sorghum in at once, which gives lumps; rain it in slowly while you whisk.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KoserevaCandied bitter orange peel

Kosereva is a Paraguayan home preserve from the days when nothing was wasted: thick strips of bitter-orange peel soaked and boiled to soften their bite, then cooked slowly in dark cane molasses until glossy and nearly black. In the countryside it is eaten after lunch with a slice of fresh cheese or simply on its own. Bitter oranges (Seville oranges) are in season in winter. The most common mistake is not changing the boiling water enough, which leaves the peel unpleasantly bitter. Chef's tip: taste a sliver of peel after the third boil; it should be gently bitter like marmalade, not harsh.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BusheraSoured sorghum drink

In the hills of Kigezi around Kabale, a calabash of obushera is offered to visitors and carried to the fields in the afternoon; the same drink, left for days, becomes beer, but the everyday family version is drunk young and contains no meaningful alcohol. Sorghum flour is cooked into a thin porridge, cooled, then left overnight with a spoonful of sprouted sorghum flour to sour gently, so it tastes tangy, malty and refreshing, a little like a drinking yoghurt made from grain. Drink it chilled on its own or with roasted groundnuts. The mistake people make is leaving it out too long: after a day it starts to fizz and turn alcoholic, so taste it, then chill it. Chef's tip: sweeten only just before serving, as sugar added early speeds up the ferment.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MalambeBaobab fruit drink

On the hot Lower Shire valley floor around Nsanje and Chikwawa, the hard, velvety baobab pods are cracked open in the dry season and their chalky white pulp is soaked to make malambe, a cooling drink sold by the cup at markets. It is pale and creamy-looking, tart like lemon sherbet with a hint of pear, and thicker than juice. Baobab pulp is sold abroad as dried chunks or fine powder; either works here, and the powder makes it a 15-minute drink. Not soaking the chunks long enough is the usual mistake, leaving the drink thin and gritty. Chef's tip: whisk the drink just before serving, because the pulp settles quickly to the bottom.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ka'i ladrilloPeanut molasses bricks

Ka'i ladrillo — 'monkey brick' in Guaraní — is the sweet sold by vendors on Asunción buses and at country fiestas: roasted peanuts bound in boiled cane molasses and set in brick-shaped blocks, crunchy and dark with a slightly smoky toffee taste. It contains peanuts, so keep it away from anyone with a peanut allergy. The common mistake is taking the syrup off too soon, so the bricks stay sticky and never set. Chef's tip: test the syrup by dropping a little into cold water; it is ready when it sets into a brittle thread that snaps.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Vary sosoa for babiesSoft rice with greens for babies

Vary sosoa, rice cooked with lots of water until soft and soupy, is the classic Malagasy breakfast, eaten in Antananarivo and the highland villages before the day's work starts, and the food given to the sick and the very young. For babies from about nine months it is cooked with diced pumpkin and finished with a handful of mild greens, then mashed. It is gentle, sweet and creamy. Skip brède mafane (paracress), the tingling green used for grown-ups' romazava, as it numbs the mouth; spinach or sweet potato leaves are kinder. It is free of the major allergens: no milk, egg, gluten, nuts, soya, sesame or fish. Chef's tip: use a short, starchy rice such as vary gasy or any broken rice; it releases more starch and makes the creamiest sosoa.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ratlami sevPeppery gram flour sev

Ratlam in western Madhya Pradesh is so proud of its sev that it carries a GI tag, and every Malwa household keeps a tin for poha, usal and chai-time munching. What makes it different is the spice: ground clove, black pepper and ajwain give a warm heat that builds slowly, and the sev is pressed thick and fried until deep gold. The common mistake is frying in oil that is too hot, which browns the outside while the centre stays soft and soon goes chewy. Chef's tip: cool completely before you store it in an airtight tin; it keeps crisp for three weeks.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GenmaichaGreen tea with toasted rice

Genmaicha started as a thrifty Japanese blend: toasted rice stretched expensive tea leaves and made the pot go further. It is now loved for itself and turns up everywhere, from office kettles in Tokyo to the free tea at sushi counters and ramen shops, poured all through the meal because its gentle, roasted flavour does not fight with soy or fish. The rice gives a nutty, savoury, almost buttery taste; the green tea adds a light grassy edge. It has about half the caffeine of plain sencha, so many people drink it in the afternoon. The usual mistake is pouring boiling water straight onto it: the green leaves scald and the cup turns bitter while the rice flavour gets lost. Let the kettle sit for a minute or two so the water is around 80–85 °C, and steep for no more than a minute. It is ready when the liquor is pale yellow-green and clear, and the steam smells of popcorn and cut grass. Chef's tip: matcha-iri genmaicha, with powdered matcha dusted over the blend, gives a greener, fuller cup; use it the same way but stir the pot once before pouring.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chicons braisésBraised endives

Belgian endive, called chicon in Wallonia and witloof in Flanders, is grown in the dark around Brussels and eaten all winter, from November to March. Braised slowly in butter with a pinch of sugar and a squeeze of lemon, the pale heads turn golden, soft and gently caramelised, with only a whisper of their raw bitterness left. Serve them beside mashed potatoes and a fried egg, or as a side for a Sunday roast. The usual mistake is crowding the pan and boiling them in their own water, which leaves them grey and bitter. Chef's tip: lay the heads in a single layer and press a round of baking paper on top, so they steam gently and then brown in the butter once the juices cook off.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mofo menakelyRice flour doughnuts

Ring-shaped and no wider than a teacup, mofo menakely are fried in wide pans of oil at dawn on the street corners of Antananarivo and Antsirabe, then sold by the bagful to people heading for the bus. Rice flour gives them a crisp, slightly sandy shell and a chewy, faintly sour crumb from the slow rise, and they are only lightly sweet, which is why the Highlands dunk them in sugary coffee. Wheat flour helps the dough hold its shape; a few cooks go all rice and shape with wet hands. Expect the batter-like dough to feel too soft at first: adding more flour to make it handleable is a mistake that leaves them dense. Chef's tip: shape each ring straight into the hot oil from a wet palm, poking the hole with a wet finger, rather than trying to roll the dough on a board.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Blote billetjes in het grasWhite and green beans with butter

Dutch grandmothers named this dish 'bare bottoms in the grass' for the pale white beans peeping out between the green ones, and it is a summer weekday supper all over the Netherlands, when runner and French beans are cheap. Green beans and cooked white beans are simmered together, then stirred with butter, a little stock and plenty of pepper, often with boiled potatoes on the side. Many families add bacon or a smoked sausage; this version keeps it vegetarian, so serve it with a fried egg or a vegetarian sausage if you want more. The usual mistake is boiling the green beans until grey: they should stay bright with a slight bite. Chef's tip: a splash of the bean-cooking liquid stirred in with the butter makes a glossy little sauce that clings to everything.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChauselaRice flour puris

Chausela is the puri of the Chhattisgarh plains, where rice rather than wheat fills the granary, and it turns up at Hareli, Pola and any Sunday breakfast with a sharp tomato chutney or a potato curry. The dough is scalded with boiling water so the rice flour holds together, and the puris fry up pale, soft and lightly crisp at the edges. The usual mistake is mixing the flour with cold water; it cracks as you roll and the puris split in the oil. Chef's tip: knead the dough while it is still warm, using the heel of an oiled palm, and keep it under a damp cloth so the rounds stay supple.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KitchaUnleavened flatbread

Kitcha (qita) is the everyday quick bread of the Ethiopian and Eritrean highlands, baked when there is no time to ferment injera, and eaten for breakfast with tea or coffee, or torn up as kitcha fitfit with spiced butter and berbere. The dough is just flour and water, spread thick on a hot mitad griddle and cooked on both sides until speckled and firm. Traditionally there is no salt in it at all: about 0.0 g salt per portion, so it sits well beside salty stews. The usual mistake is spreading it too thin, which gives a cracker; aim for 1 cm so the middle stays soft. Barley or teff flour can replace some of the wheat for a nuttier bread. Chef's tip: press a little hollow in the middle with your fingers before turning, and the bread cooks evenly without a raw centre.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

IsijingiPumpkin and maize porridge

When the big grey-skinned pumpkins come in at the end of summer, Xhosa grandmothers around Butterworth and Ngcobo stew them down and stir in maize meal to make isijingi, a bright orange porridge that children love and adults secretly do too. It is soft and spoonable, gently sweet from the pumpkin and a little sugar, with the faint corn flavour of the meal underneath. Serve it as a side to beans or a vegetable stew, or eat a bowlful on its own for supper on a cold evening. Watery pumpkin is the classic mistake, so cook the pumpkin until most of its liquid has evaporated before the meal goes in. Chef's tip: use a dense, deep orange pumpkin or butternut, not a watery jack-o'-lantern type, for the sweetest flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

VishetiSugar-glazed fried dough

Tins of visheti appear in every Swahili home in Zanzibar and Mombasa in the days before Eid, ready for the visitors who drop by after prayers. They are small diamond or finger-shaped pieces of cardamom-and-coconut dough, fried until crisp and then tossed in boiling syrup until it dries to a crackly white shell; inside they stay crunchy with a faint softness at the heart. Kids love them, and they keep for a week in an airtight tin, so they make a good gift. The tricky bit is the glaze: if you stop stirring too early it stays sticky, and too late it turns to lumps of sugar. This version uses butter and milk powder, so it is vegetarian but not vegan. Chef's tip: keep stirring the visheti in the syrup off the heat until the pan suddenly looks cloudy and dry; that is the moment the coating sets.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Soft idli for babies

Idli is breakfast across Tamil Nadu, from Chennai's Mylapore tiffin rooms to village kitchens, and a fluffy, plain idli is one of the first finger foods many South Indian babies hold. Since family batter is salted, parents make a separate salt-free batch for babies under one, or steam a few from it before the salt goes in. The cakes are pillowy, faintly sour and melt under the gums, torn into pieces or mashed with ghee or thin dal. They contain no gluten, egg, nuts, soya or sesame; they contain milk only if served with ghee. Chef's tip: grind the urad dal with ice-cold water until it is light and foamy; air in the batter, not salt, is what makes idli soft.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KneippbrødWholemeal loaf

Open almost any Norwegian matpakke (the packed lunch wrapped in paper) and you will find slices of kneippbrød, a soft, lightly sweet loaf of sammalt hvete (wholemeal wheat) baked in a tin. Its fine crumb slices thin without crumbling, perfect for brown cheese, jam or cucumber at the school desk. The common mistake is adding too much flour while kneading because wholemeal dough feels sticky; the loaf then bakes dense and dry. Chef's tip: let the dough rest for 20 minutes after mixing, before kneading, so the bran softens and the dough turns smooth on its own.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dal baflaBaked wheat balls with dal

Dal bafla is Malwa's answer to Rajasthan's dal baati: the dough balls are first boiled until they float, then baked until crusty, so they turn out softer inside and lighter than baati. In Indore and Ujjain it is the meal for Sunday lunches, picnics and big family gatherings, broken open and drowned in ghee next to a bowl of tadka dal and garlic chutney. The common mistake is skipping the rest after boiling; wet baflas go straight into the oven and stay pale and leathery. Chef's tip: let the boiled baflas dry for 10 minutes and score a cross on top before baking, so they crack open and soak up the ghee.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tschok wangunSour tamarind aubergine

Tschok wangun is a Kashmiri Pandit dish from the Srinagar valley, cooked on ordinary weekdays and on fasting days when onion and garlic are kept out of the kitchen. Thick wedges of aubergine are fried in smoking mustard oil, then simmered in a thin, tart tamarind broth flavoured with ground fennel, dried ginger and Kashmiri chilli, so the pieces keep their shape but turn silky inside. Serve it with plain steamed rice and a bowl of dal. The usual mistake is adding the tamarind before the aubergine is properly fried: the pieces then soak up the sour liquid, collapse and taste raw. Chef's tip: heat the mustard oil until it just smokes, then let it cool for a minute before frying, which takes away its harsh edge.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ScagliuozziFried polenta triangles

Scagliuozzi are triangles of firm polenta fried until blistered and golden, and in Naples they are rarely eaten alone: the friggitorie of Via dei Tribunali and the Pignasecca market tuck them into a cuoppo, a cone of brown paper, with zeppoline and potato croquettes. People buy them mid-morning or on the evening passeggiata and eat them walking, still too hot to hold. The outside shatters, the inside stays soft and sweet with corn. Make the polenta the day before so it sets firm. Chef's tip: cook the polenta thick enough that a spoon stands up in it; soft polenta spits and falls apart in the oil.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mkate wa mofaMillet and wheat flatbread

Before dawn in Lamu's narrow lanes, bakers slap rounds of mofa dough onto the hot walls of a clay oven, and by breakfast the breads are stacked in baskets beside glasses of spiced tea. The dough mixes millet and wheat flour with coconut milk, a little sugar and cardamom, then ferments overnight, so each bread comes out soft and slightly chewy with a tangy, nutty taste and a blistered top. Islanders eat them with tea, with fried fish, or split and dipped in a bean or coconut sauce. Without a clay oven, a heavy pan on the hob plus a hot grill gives the same blistering; just don't roll the dough thin like chapati, a common slip, because mofa should be about 1 cm thick and pressed out by hand. Chef's tip: wet your palms before shaping, as islanders do; the dough is soft and the water stops it sticking.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Angakar rotiThick rice flour roti

Angakar roti takes its name from angaar, the glowing coals of a village chulha in Chhattisgarh, where a thick round of rice dough is sandwiched between palash or banana leaves and buried in the embers until smoky and crusted. Farmers carry it to the fields with chutney and a green chilli, and it is still a winter breakfast across Bilaspur and Raipur. At home a heavy tawa and a lid do the job. The common slip is making the dough too wet; it should be soft but hold a fingerprint, or the roti stays gummy in the middle. Chef's tip: mix in a spoon of leftover cooked rice for a softer crumb, just as Chhattisgarhi grandmothers do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kopi tubrukBoiled coffee with sugar

From the warung kopi of Yogyakarta and Solo to the night-shift stalls of Surabaya, kopi tubruk is the everyday coffee of Java: powder-fine robusta and sugar spooned into a glass, hit with boiling water, stirred once and left alone while the grounds sink. It comes out black, thick and strong, with a toasty, slightly chocolatey bitterness and often plenty of sugar, drunk early with fried snacks and again late at night over long talk. The grounds sit as a muddy layer at the bottom and stay there. The common mistake is drinking or stirring too soon: the cup is gritty and harsh. Wait four or five minutes, until the crust on top sinks and the surface turns clear and dark, then sip gently and stop before the sludge. It is ready when the foam has collapsed and a thin oily sheen shows on top. This is a strong, high-caffeine coffee; one glass is plenty, and it is not for children. Some sellers add a slice of ginger or a pinch of cardamom. Chef's tip: grind the beans as fine as for espresso or finer; coarse grounds float and never settle.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TsagaaSweet rice with raisins and curd

Tsagaa is a sweet, buttery rice dish served during Tsagaan Sar, the Mongolian Lunar New Year, when white foods (tsagaan idee) stand for purity and a good year ahead. Rice is cooked soft, then mixed with butter, sugar, raisins and crumbled aaruul or fresh curd, and served in small bowls to guests during the round of family visits. A common mistake is using long-grain rice, which won't turn creamy; use short-grain. Chef's tip: soak the raisins in hot water first so they're plump and juicy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BortsAir-dried beef strips

Borts is the winter-dried meat of Mongolian herding families: in the cold, dry air of late autumn, strips of beef are hung inside the ger until they shrink to hard, dark sticks, then pounded and stored in a bag to last until spring. A handful of borts dropped into hot water makes an instant soup, and nomads carry it on long journeys. In Mongolia it is also made from horse or camel meat; this recipe uses beef. Home kitchens don't have the steppe's freezing dry air, so here the meat is heated to a safe temperature first and dried in a low oven. A common mistake is leaving fat on the strips; fat turns rancid, so trim it all. Chef's tip: slice the meat while half-frozen to get thin, even strips.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GambirButtered pan-fried flatbread

Gambir is a flaky, layered flatbread found in Ulaanbaatar canteens and family kitchens, rolled thin, brushed with butter, folded and pan-fried until crisp in spots and tender within. It is eaten for breakfast with milk tea, often with a sprinkle of sugar, or filled with a layer of thick cream called öröm. A common mistake is rolling the dough without resting it, so it springs back; give it 20 minutes. Chef's tip: roll the buttered dough up like a rope, coil it and roll flat again; that's where the layers come from.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bunelos agaBanana fritters

Bunelos aga are the banana fritters of Guam, sold at fiesta food tables and church fundraisers in Hagåtña and made at home whenever the bananas over-ripen. Mashed sweet bananas are mixed into a soft batter, fried in spoonfuls and rolled in sugar, so they're crisp outside and custardy within. A common mistake is frying at too low a temperature, which makes them greasy. Chef's tip: use the small, sweet local bananas or the ripest regular ones you can find.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AaruulDried milk curds

Aaruul are the hard, sour little curds that dry on the roofs of gers all over Mongolia in summer, when the herds give the most milk, and they are carried in pockets as a snack through the long winter. Milk is soured and boiled until the curds separate, then strained, pressed, cut into pieces and dried in the sun and wind for days. They are chewed slowly, almost like a sweet, and offered to guests. This home method dries them in a very low oven. A common mistake is under-drying; any moisture left lets mould grow. Chef's tip: stir a little sugar into the curd if you want the softer, sweeter style sold in Ulaanbaatar markets.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pasta cresciutaPuffy yeast fritters

Pasta cresciuta means "risen dough", and that is all it is: a loose, sticky yeast batter dropped by the spoonful into hot oil, where it swells into airy, irregular puffs. In Naples the friggitorie around Piazza Mercato and the Quartieri Spagnoli sell them by the paper cone, plain or with a little seaweed (alghe) folded in, and at Christmas they appear as zeppoline on every table. They are best eaten within minutes, while crisp outside and chewy-soft within. Chef's tip: wet your spoon in a glass of water between each blob, so the sticky batter slides off cleanly into the oil.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ByaslagPressed fresh cheese

Byaslag is the mild, springy fresh cheese of Mongolian herders, made in summer from cow's or yak's milk in Arkhangai and Khövsgöl, where yak herds graze the high valleys. Warm milk is curdled with soured milk, the curds pressed under a stone, and the finished cheese is sliced and eaten fresh, dried in the sun, or dropped into milk tea where it softens. No rennet is used, so it is vegetarian. A common mistake is boiling the milk hard after adding the sour milk, which makes the curd tough and rubbery. Chef's tip: press it overnight for a firmer cheese you can slice thinly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ThiafCaramelised peanuts

In Dakar, thiaf sellers sit beside big blackened pans of hot sand outside Sandaga market, near Place de l'Indépendance and on the quay for the Gorée ferry, stirring peanuts through the sand until they roast evenly. Some are sold plain and salted; the sweet ones, thiaf sucré, are tumbled in boiling sugar until they wear a crunchy, glassy shell. This home version dry-roasts the nuts in a heavy pan instead of sand, then caramelises them with a pinch of salt. It is an afternoon snack bought in a twist of paper and nibbled on the walk home. It contains peanuts, and whole nuts are a choking risk for children under five. Chef's tip: keep stirring after the sugar turns sandy; a few minutes more melts it into glossy amber patches.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Trà sen (lotus tea)

Every June and July, before sunrise, boats slip between the pink lotus on Hanoi's West Lake to gather flowers for trà sen. The finest lotus tea is made by stripping the tiny white rice-like anthers from hundreds of blooms and layering them with green tea, a labour that makes it one of Vietnam's most expensive gifts, kept for Tết. Families do a simpler version at home: a spoon of Thái Nguyên green tea is tucked into the heart of a fresh flower in the evening, the petals closed and tied, and by morning the leaves have taken on a sweet, creamy, slightly vanilla-like perfume. It is brewed in a small clay pot and drunk in tiny cups in the early morning. The common mistake is brewing with boiling water, which flattens the lotus scent and makes the green tea bitter. Rinse the leaves quickly and brew at 80–85 °C. It is ready when the cup is pale gold and the steam smells of flowers before tea. No fresh lotus? Buy ready-made lotus-scented tea from Vietnamese shops and start at the brewing step. Chef's tip: pick a bud that is just about to open; a fully open bloom has already lost its scent.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bathua raitaChenopodium leaf yogurt

Bathua (chenopodium or lamb's quarters) grows wild in the wheat fields of western Uttar Pradesh and Haryana in winter, and from December to February families blanch it and stir it into yogurt as a cooling raita beside paratha, dal or bajra roti. The leaves are boiled briefly, chopped and folded into whisked yogurt with roasted cumin, black salt and a little green chilli, so it tastes earthy, tangy and fresh. It is suitable as part of a balanced diet. About 90 kcal and 7 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is adding the greens while they are still hot or wet, which makes the yogurt thin and grainy; squeeze them dry and cool them first. Chef's tip: grind half the blanched leaves to a paste so the raita turns an even pale green.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Steamed Nendran banana mash

Nendran is the long, golden plantain of Kerala, sold in hands at every market from Palakkad to Thiruvananthapuram, and a steamed ripe Nendran is one of the first fruits a Malayali baby tastes. Raw, it is too firm and starchy for a six-month-old, so it is steamed in its skin until the flesh turns soft and orange-gold, the dark string of seeds in the centre is pulled out, and the rest is mashed smooth. It is naturally sweet, so nothing is added: no sugar, jaggery, honey or salt. It is free of the major allergens. Chef's tip: wait until the skin is fully yellow with black freckles; a green Nendran stays chalky however long you steam it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GujiyaSweet filled pastries

In Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and across the Hindi belt, the days before Holi are for making gujiya: the women of the house sit together rolling, filling and crimping hundreds of these half-moon pastries, which are then offered to guests between rounds of colour. The filling is mawa roasted until grainy and golden, mixed with ghee-toasted semolina, coconut, nuts and powdered sugar; Maharashtra's karanji is the cousin with a coconut filling. The common mistake is frying on high heat, which blisters the pastry and leaves it raw and chewy inside; gujiya should fry slowly until crisp and pale gold. Chef's tip: add the powdered sugar only once the mawa has cooled completely, or it melts and the filling turns sticky.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cerasee teaBitter melon vine tea

Cerasee grows wild on fences and roadsides all over Jamaica, a thin vine with lacy leaves, yellow flowers and small warty orange fruit. It is the best known of the island's bush teas: generations of Jamaican children were given a cup at the end of the summer holidays, before going back to school, as a wash-out, and adults still drink it now and then as a cleansing and cooling tonic, or for the skin. The tea is pale green-gold and seriously bitter, with a grassy, slightly vegetal taste; some add sugar or lime. The common mistake is boiling the vine hard for a long time, which makes the tea far harsher than it needs to be. Pour boiling water over it and let it steep instead, and leave out any ripe fruit and seeds. It is ready when the water is light green-gold and smells green and herbal. Do not drink it if you are pregnant, breastfeeding or trying to conceive, do not give it to young children, and check with a doctor if you have diabetes or take medication, as it may lower blood sugar. Chef's tip: dried cerasee from Caribbean shops works well; use a little less.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Insalata di pastaCold pasta salad

When Milan's offices empty onto park benches in July, the schiscetta (the Milanese word for a packed lunch tin) usually holds pasta fredda: short pasta dressed with olive oil, sweet cherry tomatoes, little mozzarella balls, black olives and torn basil. It is made the night before and tastes best at cool room temperature, never fridge-cold. The common mistake is rinsing the cooked pasta under the tap until it is icy and then dressing it: the starch closes up, the oil slides off and the salad tastes flat. Many mozzarellas are made with animal rennet, so look for one labelled vegetarian, or use cubes of a vegetarian cheese. Pack it with an ice pack and take it out of the bag 20 minutes before eating. Chef's tip: toss the drained, still-warm pasta with half the oil and the salted tomatoes straight away so it drinks up their juice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

LyangchaFried milk sweets in syrup

Travellers on the road from Kolkata to Bardhaman stop at Shaktigarh for one reason: lyangcha, cylindrical sweets of chhena and khoya fried almost black and soaked in light syrup, sold hot from roadside shops and carried home in clay pots. The outside is caramelised and slightly chewy, the inside soft, juicy and milky. They are a winter and wedding favourite across Bengal. The common mistake is frying on high heat to get the dark colour quickly; the outside burns while the centre stays raw and the sweet splits in the syrup. Low, patient heat gives an even mahogany shell. Chef's tip: a teaspoon of sugar kneaded into the dough helps it darken evenly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cà phê cốt dừa (coconut coffee)

Hanoi takes its coffee seriously, and in the last fifteen years coconut coffee has become one of the city's signatures, sold from Old Quarter cafés, lakeside balconies around Hoàn Kiếm and tiny stools on the pavement. It is a hot-weather drink, at its best on a sticky afternoon between May and September, eaten half with a spoon. Strong Vietnamese robusta drips slowly through an aluminium phin, then is poured over a pale slush of thick coconut cream, sweetened condensed milk and crushed ice, so you get bitter, dark coffee against something rich and cold that tastes like coconut ice cream. The common mistake is blending the slush too long or with too much ice, which leaves it thin and watery, and pouring the coffee in boiling hot so the slush collapses. Blend just until it looks like soft snow, and let the coffee cool for a minute or two. It is ready when the slush holds a spoon upright and the coffee sits in a dark layer on top. Robusta is high in caffeine and this is a strong drink, so it is not for children and one glass is plenty. Chef's tip: chill the coconut cream overnight; cold, thick cream gives a fluffier slush.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Agretti all'agroSaltwort with lemon

Agretti, also called barba di frate or 'monk's beard', appear in Roman and Tuscan markets for a short season in March and April, tied in bunches that look like thick chives. Blanched for a minute and dressed all'agro, with lemon and good olive oil, they are a juicy, slightly salty spring side for an egg dish, grilled fish or beans. Suitable as part of a balanced diet, they are almost free of starch: about 80 kcal and 3 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is overcooking them into limp threads; they should keep a crisp, spinach-like snap. Chef's tip: agretti are naturally salty, so taste before adding any salt at all.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChigumuBanana maize cake

Chigumu is village baking from the Shire Highlands and the lakeshore near Mangochi: a thick batter of maize flour, overripe bananas and sugar poured into a greased pot, set on embers with more coals heaped on the lid, and left to bake slowly. The result is a dense, moist, golden loaf with a slightly gritty, cornbread-like crumb and a deep banana sweetness, cut into wedges for children after school or carried on journeys. An oven and a loaf tin give the same result at home. The usual mistake is using under-ripe bananas, which leave the cake dry and bland. Chef's tip: pick bananas with skins more black than yellow, and mash them to a liquid before adding the maize flour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Joynagarer moaPuffed rice and jaggery balls

Joynagar, south of Kolkata, makes moa only in winter, when the fragrant kanakchur paddy is harvested and date-palm sap is boiled into fresh nolen gur. Puffed kanakchur khoi is bound with the liquid gur, khoya and ghee into soft balls topped with a raisin and a pinch of cardamom, and Bengalis queue for the first boxes each December. The common mistake is overcooking the gur, which sets the moa hard as stone; it should reach only the soft-thread stage so the balls stay tender and squash slightly when bitten. Chef's tip: if you cannot find kanakchur khoi, use the freshest, crispest puffed rice you can buy and warm it briefly in a dry pan.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

PanchkutaFive desert vegetables with spices

Panchkuta is the Marwari answer to a land where fresh vegetables are scarce: five sun-dried desert foods, ker berries, sangri beans, kumatiya seeds, gunda (lasoda) and amchur, soaked back to life and cooked in mustard oil with red chilli. Jodhpur and Bikaner families keep it for Sheetla Ashtami, when food is cooked a day ahead, and for wedding thalis with bajra roti, because it keeps for days without spoiling. The common mistake is cutting the soaking short; under-soaked ker and sangri stay leathery and bitter. Chef's tip: boil the soaked ker on its own and throw away the first water, which carries most of its bitterness.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dalimbi usalSprouted field bean curry

In Konkan and Pune homes, dalimbi usal is a festival dish, cooked for Ganesh Chaturthi, weddings and thread ceremonies and served on the thali beside puran poli and rice. Dalimbi are dried field beans (val) that are soaked, sprouted and peeled; the work takes two days but turns them creamy and sweet. They are simmered gently with fresh coconut, goda masala, kokum and a little jaggery, without onion or garlic. Field beans must always be cooked until fully soft; never eat them raw or half-cooked. The usual mistake is boiling them hard, which bursts the soft peeled beans into mash; keep the simmer gentle. Chef's tip: soak the sprouted beans in warm water for 30 minutes before peeling, and the skins slip off with a pinch.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Neem begunNeem leaves with aubergine

Neem begun opens a traditional Bengali lunch in spring, especially around Poila Baisakh, when the neem trees of West Bengal put out soft new leaves. A few tender leaves are fried crisp in mustard oil, then tossed with small cubes of fried aubergine so the bitterness is softened by the creamy brinjal. Eat a spoonful or two with the first mouthfuls of rice, before the dal. It is suitable as part of a balanced diet and is meant to be eaten in small amounts, as Bengali cooks always have. About 110 kcal and 7 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is frying the neem too long, which turns it black and acrid; it needs only seconds. Chef's tip: dry the leaves completely on a cloth before they go into the oil, or they spit and steam instead of crisping.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MosbolletjiesAniseed grape buns

Each harvest, wine farms around Paarl and the Boland once used foaming fresh grape must to raise these sweet, tear-apart buns, and some families still bake them every January and dry what is left into rusks for coffee dunking. This home method replaces the must with a starter of pure grape juice, raisins and a little yeast, bubbled overnight; the tiny trace of alcohol the fermentation makes bakes off in the oven. The buns are soft and feathery, gently sweet, scented with aniseed and glazed with a sticky sugar wash. Rushing is the mistake: this dough rises slowly overnight and needs to double properly at each stage, or the buns turn out dense. Chef's tip: use juice with no added preservatives, which stop the starter from fermenting.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ambadyachi udda methiHog plum coconut gravy

Udda methi is a Goan Saraswat curry named for its two roasted seasonings, urad dal and fenugreek seeds, and in the monsoon months the best version is made with tart green hog plums, ambade. The plums simmer whole in a coconut gravy that is sour, a little bitter, hot and faintly sweet from jaggery, and it is eaten with plain rice on rainy days or at a Shravan meal. The common mistake is burning the fenugreek: it should be roasted only until reddish, because dark seeds make the whole pot bitter. Raw mango works in place of ambade outside the season. Chef's tip: crush each hog plum lightly with a pestle before cooking so the gravy can soak into the flesh around the stone.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jhinge postoRidge gourd with poppy seeds

Jhinge posto is a summer staple of West Bengal and especially the Bankura and Birbhum districts, where poppy seed (posto) goes into almost every everyday lunch. Ridge gourd is cooked in its own juices with nigella seeds and green chilli, then coated in a creamy paste of ground white poppy seeds, giving a mild, nutty, slightly sweet dish. Serve it with rice and dal, or with a millet roti for a lower-GI plate. It is suitable as part of a balanced diet. About 150 kcal and 9 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is adding water: the gourd releases plenty, and extra water makes the posto runny. Chef's tip: soak the poppy seeds in hot water for 20 minutes before grinding so the paste is smooth, not gritty.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChandrakalaSyrup-soaked milk pastries

Chandrakala is the round, moon-shaped sweet of Bihar and eastern Uttar Pradesh, made for Holi, Diwali and Chhath and sold by sweet shops in Patna and Varanasi. Two circles of flaky pastry enclose a filling of mawa, nuts and cardamom; the edge is pleated into a rope, then the pastry is fried slowly and dipped in sugar syrup. Its sister suryakala is the same sweet shaped like a sun. The common mistake is syrup that is too thin, which makes the crust soggy within hours; it should reach one-string consistency. Chef's tip: pleat the edge firmly with damp fingertips, because a loose seal is where the filling leaks out in the hot ghee.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BabakauFried dough balls

Babakau are the fluffy fried dough balls sold at Fijian market stalls and village canteens at breakfast time, eaten with a mug of milky tea or hot koko before school or work in Suva and Nadi. The dough is lightly sweet and the balls puff up as they fry, golden outside and soft as a bun inside. A common mistake is oil that's too hot, which leaves raw centres; 170 °C is right. Chef's tip: wet your fingers to drop spoonfuls of dough into the oil so it slips off cleanly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Koko alaisaCocoa coconut rice

Koko alaisa is a Samoan breakfast and Sunday to'ona'i (after-church lunch) favourite, rice simmered in koko Samoa, the island's own roasted cocoa paste, with coconut cream, sugar and sometimes orange leaves for perfume. It is rich, chocolatey and comforting, like a warm chocolate rice pudding, and is often eaten alongside savoury food. If you can't find koko Samoa in a Pacific shop, use unsweetened 100% cocoa chocolate. A common mistake is letting it catch on the bottom; stir often in the last 15 minutes. Chef's tip: a strip of orange peel simmered with the rice gives the true island aroma.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KabalagalaBanana and cassava pancakes

Street sellers in Kampala pile these small, dense golden rounds into plastic tubs and sell them warm by the handful, and a whole lively neighbourhood of the city shares their name. Over-ripe sweet bananas are mashed into cassava flour, scented with cardamom and a pinch of chilli, then fried until crisp outside and soft and chewy within, a little like a doughnut that forgot to rise. Children eat them after school, adults dunk them in milky spiced tea at breakfast. The usual mistake is adding too much flour: the dough should be soft and just stop sticking to your hands, or the pancakes turn heavy and dry. Chef's tip: use bananas with black-speckled skins; the riper they are, the less sugar you need and the better they brown.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MutakuraBeans, cowpeas and maize

Mutakura is old Zimbabwean country food, cooked in rural Mashonaland after harvest from the store of dried beans, cowpeas, groundnuts and maize kernels, and eaten as a filling lunch or snack, often at gatherings and ceremonies. Everything is soaked, boiled for hours until tender, then simply seasoned with salt, so the beans are creamy, the maize chewy and the groundnuts soft and rich. Suitable as part of a balanced diet. About 340 kcal and 45 g carbohydrate per portion. The usual mistake is cooking everything together from the start: the maize needs a long head start, and the dried red beans must be boiled hard for 10 minutes to be safe. A pressure cooker cuts the maize time to about 40 minutes. Chef's tip: soak everything overnight in separate bowls; the maize and groundnuts need it most.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MaputiPopped maize

Sold by the cupful from enamel basins at Mbare bus terminus and passed around at rural beer-hall gatherings and funerals alike, maputi is maize popped in a dry, lidded pot until the kernels split into white, crunchy clouds. It tastes plainer and more of corn than cinema popcorn, with just salt and sometimes a few roasted peanuts tossed through. Children carry pockets of it to school; adults eat it with a mug of sweet tea in the afternoon. Abroad, popping corn gives the most reliable result; dried field maize from African grocers pops less, with more half-open kernels, which some people prefer. The mistake to avoid is lifting the lid while the kernels are still popping, which lets the heat escape and leaves a pot of hard duds. Chef's tip: shake the pot constantly over the flame so no kernel sits on the hot base long enough to burn.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mupunga unedoviPeanut butter rice

Ask someone who grew up in Masvingo or a Harare township about Sunday rice and many will describe mupunga unedovi: white rice cooked a little past fluffy, then beaten with dovi, the peanut butter that sits in every Zimbabwean kitchen. The grains turn creamy and almost risotto-like, savoury and nutty with a whisper of salt, and it is what a grandmother makes when there is no meat in the house. Eat it from a bowl on its own, or spoon it beside a tomato and onion relish, covo greens or a pot of sugar beans. The usual mistake is adding the peanut butter while the rice is still boiling hard, so it catches on the base of the pot and tastes scorched. Chef's tip: loosen the peanut butter with a ladle of the hot rice water first, so it melts into the grains instead of sitting in lumps.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GodrogodroCoconut rice flour sweet

Along the northern coast around Antsiranana, and down to Mahajanga, godrogodro is a festival and family-celebration sweet, cut into diamonds and passed round at weddings, circumcision ceremonies and the New Year. Coconut milk, rice flour and dark sugar are stirred for the best part of an hour until the mixture thickens, darkens and pulls away from the pan, then it sets into a dense, sliceable fudge-like block, fragrant with vanilla and cardamom. It is rich, so small squares with a cup of tea are plenty. Stopping too early is the mistake to avoid: undercooked godrogodro stays sticky and pale and will not hold a clean edge. Chef's tip: use a heavy, non-stick pan and a flat wooden spatula that scrapes the whole base, and keep stirring as it thickens, as the bottom scorches easily.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Carato de maízChilled corn drink

Out on the hot plains of the Llanos, a jug of carato is kept cold for the afternoon: white corn cooked until soft, blended with its water, strained and sweetened with panela, cinnamon and clove. It is thick, creamy and filling enough to be a snack in a glass. Keep it in the fridge, because left out it starts to ferment. The common mistake is skipping the straining, which leaves it gritty. Chef's tip: strain through a fine sieve and then once more through a clean cloth for the silkiest drink.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lolo bunsCoconut cream baked buns

Lolo buns are the Sunday treat of Fijian kitchens, made for church lunches and family get-togethers in Lautoka and Suva: soft yeast buns packed into a tin and baked in a bath of sweetened coconut cream (lolo), which soaks into the bottoms and bakes into a sticky, caramel-edged sauce. Everyone pulls one out warm from the tin. A common mistake is pouring the coconut cream on too early; add it just before baking so the buns have risen fully. Chef's tip: use thick, full-fat coconut cream for a rich glaze.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pineapple gojjuSweet and sour pineapple gravy

Pineapple gojju turns up on banana leaves at Kannada weddings, housewarmings and Ugadi feasts, where its bright sweet-sour-hot taste cuts through the rice, saaru and payasa. Ripe pineapple is simmered with tamarind and jaggery, then thickened with a roasted paste of sesame, coconut, chilli and lentils until glossy. It is eaten in small spoonfuls with rice or chapati, or as a relish on the side. The usual mistake is adding the jaggery too early and boiling it hard, which makes it sticky and dull; let the pineapple soften first. It keeps for 4 days in the fridge. Chef's tip: toast the sesame seeds separately and add them last, so they stay nutty and you can hear them crackle.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BotaMaize porridge with peanut butter

Before school buses leave Bulawayo and Gweru, pots of bota are already ticking on the stove: a thin, pourable porridge of white maize meal, much looser than the stiff sadza eaten later in the day. A good spoonful of peanut butter turns it pale gold and gives it a toasty, slightly savoury richness, and a little sugar makes it a favourite with children. Some families stir in lacto, the Zimbabwean sour milk, or squeeze in lemon for tang; this version keeps it plant-based. Lumps are the classic fault, and they come from tipping dry meal into boiling water. Chef's tip: always whisk the maize meal into cold water first, then heat it, and the porridge stays velvet-smooth.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MaślankaChilled buttermilk

Maślanka, the tangy liquid left after churning butter, is sold in cartons all over Poland and drunk ice-cold with breakfast, with boiled new potatoes in summer, or blended with fruit for children. On its own it is thin, sour and refreshing; with strawberries and a spoon of sugar it becomes a light pink breakfast smoothie. The mistake is buying "buttermilk" that is really thickened yoghurt drink with added flavourings; look for plain cultured buttermilk with nothing else on the label. Chef's tip: chill the glasses as well as the buttermilk, and blend for no more than 20 seconds so it stays light and doesn't separate.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 216 of 2,799 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 52 of 117

More Jain ideas

Other diets