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No onion, no garlic recipes (Swaminarayan and sattvic)

3,470

3470 vegetarian recipes cooked without onion or garlic, as in Swaminarayan and sattvic kitchens, with no meat, fish, eggs or alcohol. Each has photos, step-by-step instructions and cook times. The quickest, Apfelschorle, takes 2 minutes. Most take around 45 minutes.

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Dulce de papayuelaMountain papaya in spiced syrup

Papayuela is the small, fragrant mountain papaya that grows in the cool highlands of Boyacá in Colombia. Cooked slowly in panela syrup with cloves and cinnamon, it becomes a glossy, amber dulce that Boyacá families set out during Holy Week and again at Christmas, often with a slice of fresh white cheese or cuajada. It is vegan and gluten free. Firm, slightly underripe ordinary papaya, or babaco, makes a good stand-in. Chef's tip: blanch the fruit briefly first, then drain it; this removes the bitter latex and lets it soak up the syrup.

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Asham (Jamaican parched-corn sweet)

Asham is one of rural Jamaica's oldest treats, a sweet carried over from West African parched-grain foods and still made in country districts of St Elizabeth, Clarendon and St Ann. Children ate it after school from a twist of paper, and it reappears at heritage fairs around Emancipation Day and Independence in early August. Dried corn is parched until toasty and golden, ground to a fine, sandy powder and mixed with dark sugar: nutty, faintly smoky and melting slowly on the tongue. Eat it by the pinch, press it into little balls, or stir a spoonful into warm milk or water as a drink. It is naturally egg-free; the powder needs no binder at all, and for balls a sprinkle of water and the sticky brown sugar hold it together. Chef's tip: eat the loose powder in small pinches and don't breathe in as you eat it; it is famous for making people cough. In the pot, keep the corn moving, as scorching is the common mistake and turns it bitter.

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Cupeta (Salento honey and almond brittle)

Summer in Salento, the heel of Apulia, means the feste patronali, when village streets are hung with lights and the cupetari set up stalls of cupeta, a honey and almond brittle broken from large slabs. It also shows up on Christmas tables and at the feast of Saint Oronzo in Lecce in August. Honey gives it a darker, more floral caramel than plain croccante, and the almonds stay crunchy within a brittle that slowly turns slightly chewy in the heat. Traditionally it was poured onto wafer sheets or fresh bay or lemon leaves; this version uses bay leaves, which add a faint herbal note and keep it gluten-free. Eat it in pieces with coffee, or as a snack while walking through the fair. It is naturally egg-free: honey and sugar, cooked to the hard-crack stage, set around the nuts with no other binder. Chef's tip: lower the heat once the honey starts to colour; it burns much faster than sugar, and scorching is the common mistake.

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Nian dou bao (sticky bean buns)

Before the Spring Festival, families in Dongbei make nian dou bao by the hundred, steam them and freeze them outside in the snow so there is a stack ready for every visit of the holiday. The name contains 'nian', sticky, which sounds like the word for year, so they are eaten for a year that holds together and rises higher. The dough, traditionally from glutinous millet that has been lightly fermented, is soft, chewy and gently tangy, wrapped round a smooth sweet red bean filling. This version uses glutinous rice flour and fine cornmeal for the golden colour, with a little yeast for that faint sourness. Serve them warm with tea or plain congee. Chef's tip: wet your hands before shaping; the dough clings to dry hands but behaves perfectly once they are damp.

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Alfeñique (Toluca Day of the Dead sugar-paste figures)

Each October the arcades of Toluca, in the State of Mexico, fill with the Feria del Alfeñique: stalls of little skulls, lambs, coffins, baskets and fruit, all modelled from sugar paste and painted bright colours for the Day of the Dead altars of 1 and 2 November. Children buy a skull with their own name on it; families place them on the ofrenda beside marigolds, candles and pan de muerto. The paste is snow-white, smooth and brittle once dry, with a clean sugar and lime taste. The old Toluca paste is egg-free, kneaded with chautle, a gum from an orchid bulb; here gum tragacanth plays that part, making the paste stretchy enough to model and helping it dry hard. The decorating icing is egg-free too, made from icing sugar, lime juice and a pinch of the same gum. Chef's tip: work the syrup while it is warm and keep the paste wrapped; the common mistake is letting it sit uncovered, so it dries out and cracks as you shape it.

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Bananada (Brazilian banana paste bars)

Bananada comes from the banana country of Minas Gerais and the Vale do Ribeira in São Paulo state, where roadside stalls stack it in wrapped bars beside rapadura and goiabada. Children find it in lunchboxes and it turns up on the sweet tables of the June festivals. Cooked slowly, ripe bananas and sugar darken to a reddish brown and set into a dense, chewy paste with a caramel and baked-banana flavour, finished with a sugary crust. Serve the bars with coffee or a piece of fresh cheese. It is naturally egg-free: the starch and pectin in the bananas, concentrated with sugar over a long, slow cook, set the paste firm enough to slice. Very ripe bananas give the sweetest, darkest result. Chef's tip: keep going until you can see the base of the pan for a second when you drag the spoon through; the common mistake is stopping early, which gives a soft jam that won't cut.

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VörtbrödDark Christmas rye bread

In Sweden the Christmas smörgåsbord (julbord) is never without vörtbröd, a dark, soft, slightly sticky rye loaf flavoured with wort, the sweet malty liquid brewers start beer from, plus dark syrup, orange peel, clove and ginger. It is sliced, buttered and eaten with the Christmas ham or with cheese. Many home bakers use dark beer, which contains alcohol; this recipe uses a non-alcoholic dark malt drink, which gives the same malty depth. It keeps for 4 days, and freezes well. Chef's tip: rye dough is sticky and never feels smooth like wheat; resist adding lots of extra flour or the loaf will be dry.

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Jiaodong hua bobo (festive flower buns)

On the Jiaodong peninsula in Shandong, the days before the Spring Festival are spent shaping hua bobo: large steamed wheat buns twisted into fish, flowers and lucky knots and dotted with red jujubes. A fish bun stands for surplus in the year ahead, the dates for sweetness and a prosperous red, and a tall bun stacked high for a family that keeps rising. The crumb is dense, springy and faintly sweet, a world away from fluffy bao, because the dough is worked stiff and kneaded long. Set them on the reunion table, give them to neighbours, then slice and re-steam the rest with soups and braises through the holiday. Chef's tip: keep the dough firm, more like modelling clay than bread dough, or the shapes slump in the steamer.

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Polkagris (Gränna peppermint candy sticks)

Gränna, a small town on the shore of Lake Vättern, has been pulling polkagris since the 1850s, and visitors still stand at shop windows watching the sugar being stretched and twisted on marble tables. The sticks are sold all year but are a favourite in summer, when the town fills with tourists, and again at Christmas. Pulled properly, the white part turns satiny and slightly airy, so the candy is crisp on the outside and almost chalky-soft as it melts, with a clean, cooling peppermint flavour and a thin red spiral. Eat them as they are, crush them over ice cream or hang them on the tree. Polkagris is naturally egg-free: nothing but sugar boiled to the hard-crack stage holds it together, and the pulling, not any added protein, gives the pale, opaque texture. Chef's tip: work in a dry kitchen with oiled gloves and have every tool ready before the sugar reaches temperature; the common mistake is letting the mass cool too far before pulling, at which point it cracks instead of stretching.

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Doce de figo verde (Minas green figs in clove syrup)

On the farms of Minas Gerais, figs picked hard and green at the start of summer are turned into one of the state's proudest doces, made in big copper pans and set out at Christmas, at Festa Junina and after a long Sunday lunch. The whole figs come out dark olive-green, glossy and tender right through, in a thick syrup fragrant with cloves. They are eaten with a slice of fresh queijo minas, the salty cheese making the sweetness sing, or on their own with a small coffee. Like most Brazilian fruit preserves it is naturally egg-free: the long simmer in sugar syrup preserves and firms the fruit, and the figs' own pectin thickens the syrup. The work is in the repeated blanching, which draws out the bitter milky sap. Chef's tip: wear gloves while scraping the figs, because the sap irritates skin, and keep the syrup at a bare simmer; the common mistake is boiling hard, which bursts the figs and toughens their skins.

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Pastillas de leche (Bulacan milk candy)

San Miguel in Bulacan, north of Manila, has made pastillas de leche from the rich milk of carabao, the water buffalo, for generations, and the town celebrates it every May with a festival. The candies are slow-cooked from little more than milk and sugar, rolled into fingers, coated in sugar and wrapped in coloured paper, often with fringed, cut-paper wrappers for fiestas and Christmas. They taste like a soft, milky fudge that melts on the tongue. Hand them round with coffee or tuck them into gift boxes. Carabao milk is hard to find, so this version uses whole cow's milk boosted with a little milk powder for the same richness. It is naturally egg-free: the milk solids, reduced with sugar, set into a firm paste on their own. Chef's tip: keep the heat at medium-low and scrape the base often. The common mistake is turning the heat up to save time, which scorches the milk and makes the paste grainy.

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Xôi vò (mung bean coated sticky rice)

Xôi vò is a Hanoi sticky rice offered at the altar for Vu Lan, the Buddhist full moon of the seventh lunar month when people honour their parents and ancestors, and again on the first days of Tết. Unlike most xôi, it is not a sticky mass: 'vò' means rubbed, and the soaked rice is rubbed with crumbled mung bean so each grain steams up separate, glossy and pale gold. It tastes mild, nutty and lightly salty, and is eaten with chè (sweet soup), a little sugar, or toasted sesame salt. Chef's tip: crumble the warm mung bean paste through a coarse sieve; fine, dry crumbs are what keep the grains apart.

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PinacaRice flour, jaggery and coconut cakes

Pinaca is one of the oldest Goan Christmas sweets in the kuswar tray, made in the weeks before Christmas from three things: rice flour roasted until golden and nutty, jaggery and freshly grated coconut. They are pressed into small cakes or squares and have a soft, crumbly, toffee-like bite. They are vegan and gluten free. Chef's tip: take your time roasting the rice flour, as it is the roasting that gives pinaca its flavour, but stir constantly because it burns at the edges.

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Imelletty perunalaatikkoSweet baked potato casserole

Imelletty perunalaatikko is the most traditional of the Finnish Christmas casseroles, made in the days before Christmas Eve. Mashed potato is mixed with a little flour and left warm for hours, so the potatoes' own enzymes turn starch into sugar ('imelletty' means sweetened), and then it is baked slowly until the top is a deep caramel brown. The result tastes gently sweet with no added sugar and is eaten with ham, herring or, on a vegetarian table, with mushroom salad and beetroot. Chef's tip: keep the mash at hand-warm (about 55 °C) while it sweetens; too hot and the enzymes die, too cool and nothing happens.

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Nerikiri (hand-shaped bean paste flowers)

Nerikiri are the jewel-like sweets of the tea ceremony in Kyoto and Tokyo, shaped by hand into the flower, leaf or fruit of the season: cherry blossom in April, hydrangea in June, chrysanthemum in autumn. Each is served alone on a small plate before thick matcha, cut with a pick. The dough is white bean paste kneaded with gyuhi, a soft paste of glutinous rice flour and sugar, and it feels like fine modelling clay, smooth and gently sweet, wrapped around a centre of red bean paste. They are naturally egg-free: the gyuhi gives the bean paste stretch and holds the carved shapes, so no other binder is needed. This simple five-petal flower is a good first shape. Chef's tip: dry the white bean paste well before adding the gyuhi; the common mistake is a soft, wet dough that slumps and loses its petals within minutes.

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Nanohana karashi-ae (rapeseed blossoms with mustard)

Nanohana, the budding shoots of the rapeseed plant, arrive in Japanese shops at the end of winter, and their little yellow-green flower heads are a sign that spring has come. That makes them a natural side dish for Hinamatsuri on 3 March, next to chirashizushi and clam soup. The greens are blanched just until tender, then dressed with Japanese karashi mustard loosened with soy sauce and kombu dashi: pleasantly bitter, nose-tinglingly hot and very fresh. Outside Japan, tenderstem broccoli or cime di rapa works almost as well. Chef's tip: dress the greens at the last minute, because the soy starts to dull the green colour within half an hour.

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Tai no shioyaki (salt-grilled sea bream)

Tai, sea bream, is the fish of good fortune in Japan, because its name echoes medetai (joyful, auspicious), and its red-pink skin is a lucky colour. A whole salt-grilled bream is the centrepiece of celebrations nationwide: the Shichi-Go-San family meal in November, first-birthday feasts and the New Year table, always served whole to show a life lived from beginning to end. Salt is the only seasoning, drawing the moisture from the skin so it crisps and blisters, while the white flesh underneath stays sweet and moist. Serve with sekihan, a wedge of sudachi or lemon and grated daikon. Chef's tip: pack extra salt thickly onto the fins and tail before cooking; this decorative salt keeps them from burning, so the fish looks as fine as it tastes.

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Waatlemoenkonfyt (Cape watermelon-rind preserve)

In the farm kitchens of the Western Cape, late summer meant turning the pale rind of big watermelons into jars of konfyt, a preserve that then came out all winter. The pieces are translucent green, firm and almost crunchy at the edge, soaked through with a ginger-spiked syrup. It is served with a wedge of mature cheese, on buttered bread or toast, beside coffee when visitors arrive, and in little dishes on the table at Christmas. Like all Cape konfyt it is naturally egg-free: a soak in food-grade pickling lime lets calcium firm the rind's own pectin so the pieces keep their shape, and the long simmer in sugar syrup preserves and sets them. Start two days ahead; the rind needs an overnight soak and a night resting in the syrup. Chef's tip: rinse the rind in several changes of water after the lime soak; the common mistake is rushing this, which leaves the konfyt tasting chalky.

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Petushok na palochke (Russian rooster lollipops)

For generations of Russian children the 'little rooster on a stick' meant the fair: sellers at markets, Maslenitsa celebrations and seaside promenades held up bunches of the amber cockerels, and many families still own an old two-part metal mould and cast their own at home. The lollipop is hard and glassy, with a pale caramel colour and a clean, slightly tangy taste of cooked sugar, sometimes with a splash of fruit juice for colour. Serve them as a party treat or wrap them as small gifts. They are naturally egg-free: the only thing that sets them is sugar boiled to the hard-crack stage, while a little lemon juice stops it crystallising so the candy stays clear. Chef's tip: oil the mould lightly but thoroughly, then wipe away any pools; the common mistake is skipping this, and the cockerels then stick and snap at the tail when you open the mould.

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Rapadura (Brazilian sugarcane blocks)

Rapadura is the sweet of the Brazilian Northeast, made since colonial times in the small sugar mills of Pernambuco, Paraíba and Ceará. Fresh cane juice is boiled down for hours and beaten until it sets into dense golden-brown bricks, sold at every feira and roadside stall and carried by farm workers as quick energy. It is eaten after lunch with a cup of coffee, with farinha or a slice of queijo coalho, and chopped onto the tables of the June festivals. The texture is firm but crumbly, like a hard fudge, and the flavour is deep caramel with a faint grassy note of cane. It is naturally egg-free: nothing binds it but sugar, which crystallises as you beat the hot syrup and sets the block. Use fresh or frozen sugarcane juice; peanuts or coconut make popular variations. Chef's tip: beat until the syrup loses its shine and turns thick and opaque; the common mistake is pouring too soon, which leaves a sticky toffee instead of a block.

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Dasik (Korean pressed tea cakes)

Dasik are small pressed tea cakes stamped with patterns of flowers, characters for long life and good fortune, made across Korea for Chuseok, weddings and the tables set for ancestral rites. Powders of roasted grain, black sesame or yellow pine pollen are kneaded with honey and pressed into carved wooden moulds, so a single plate shows contrasting colours. They are dense and melt slowly, tasting of toasted nuts and honey, and they are always served with tea: green tea, or a tea of jujube or citron. This version makes two colours, roasted soybean and black sesame. They are naturally egg-free: honey binds the powders and lets them hold the fine pattern of the mould. Chef's tip: add the honey a teaspoon at a time; the common mistake is too much, which makes a sticky dough that blurs the pattern and won't leave the mould.

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Quinotos en almíbar (Argentine kumquats in syrup)

In Buenos Aires and the river provinces of the Litoral, kumquat trees ripen in the middle of winter, between June and August, and the fruit goes straight into jars of syrup. Grandmothers' pantries held quinotos for the whole year, brought out for birthdays and long Sunday lunches. Each little fruit turns glossy orange and translucent, with a soft, bittersweet skin and a sharp, juicy centre. Spoon them over vanilla ice cream, serve them with a slice of fresh cheese in the style of postre vigilante, or eat them straight from the jar. Many bar menus offer them steeped in spirits; this version keeps only the syrup. Naturally egg-free, the quinotos rely on sugar syrup to preserve them, while pectin from the peel gives the syrup a light, jammy body. Chef's tip: blanch the fruit three times from cold water; the common mistake is skipping this, which leaves the skins tough and bitter.

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Orangettes (candied orange peel in dark chocolate)

All over France, from Paris chocolatiers to village pâtisseries, orangettes arrive in the shop windows as the days shorten and are a fixture of the Christmas and New Year sweet table. Long strips of orange peel are candied until tender and translucent, then dipped in dark chocolate: chewy and bittersweet inside, with a clean snap of chocolate and a long citrus finish. Serve them with an espresso after dinner, tie them up in a box as a gift, or offer them with a cheese course. They are naturally egg-free: the sugar syrup preserves the peel and stops it going tough, and the tempered chocolate sets into a firm, glossy shell with no other help. For a vegan batch, use a dark chocolate made without milk. Chef's tip: dry the candied peel well before dipping; the common mistake is dipping wet peel, which makes the chocolate seize and turn dull.

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Tang gua (malt sugar candy)

On Xiaonian, the 'little New Year' a week before the Spring Festival, families across northern China offer tang gua to the Kitchen God before he flies up to report on the household: the sticky sweets are meant to glue his mouth shut, or at least sweeten his words. The name means 'sugar melons', after their round, ribbed shape. Pulling the hot maltose over and over turns it from amber glass to a pale, airy candy that shatters and then turns chewy, with a toasty malt flavour and plenty of sesame. Serve them with tea on Xiaonian and keep the rest in a tin for New Year guests. Chef's tip: wear clean rubber or silicone gloves and work on an oiled tray; hot sugar sticks to skin and burns.

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