Recipes

All recipes

Vegetarian, or something you can't eat? Set your diet once and we'll hide recipes that don't fit.

Filters (7)

29 recipes

Žinčica

Hikers walking past a salaš, a Slovak shepherds' hut, are often offered a mug of žinčica, the cool, sour whey left over from making bryndza and hrudka cheese. Shepherds heat the whey until fine flakes of cheese float up, then leave it to sour, and drink it with boiled potatoes or on its own on a hot afternoon. It is thin, refreshing and tangy, a little like a light buttermilk. At the salaš it is often made from raw sheep's milk, so at home make it only from the whey of cheese made with pasteurised milk (the korbáčiky recipe gives you plenty) and vegetarian rennet. The common slip is leaving it to sour somewhere warm for too long, where it turns cheesy and harsh; a cool room and 12 hours is enough. Chef's tip: a spoonful of cultured buttermilk gives a clean, reliable sourness every time.

15 min

Czech Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bublanina

Czech grandmothers make bublanina the moment cherries ripen in June, and again with apricots or plums later in summer, baking it in a big tray for afternoon coffee in the garden. The name comes from the bubbles that form as the fruit sinks into the batter. It is a light, buttery sponge, golden at the edges, with pockets of juicy, sharp fruit and a snowfall of icing sugar on top; children love it warm. A common mistake is folding in the flour too hard, which knocks out the air and makes a tough cake; mix until just combined. Pitted fruit is easiest for little eaters. Chef's tip: toss the fruit in a spoon of flour before scattering it over, so it sits in the sponge instead of sinking to the bottom.

50 min

Czech Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Vánočka

On Czech Christmas Eve morning, before the carp and the potato salad, the table holds a long golden vánočka, a sweet braided loaf whose layered plaits are said to represent the baby Jesus in swaddling. Families slice it for breakfast through the holidays with butter, honey or jam. The crumb is soft and rich with egg and butter, scented with lemon zest and studded with raisins; flaked almonds crisp up on the crust. The usual slip is braiding too loosely, so the tiers slide apart in the oven; plait tightly and hold them with wooden skewers while baking. Soaking raisins in warm water (not rum) keeps them juicy and alcohol-free. Chef's tip: vánočka keeps for days wrapped in a cloth, and slightly stale slices make superb French toast.

185 min

Czech Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jidáše

Maundy Thursday, "Green Thursday" in Czech, is the day for jidáše, sweet yeasted buns rolled into ropes and coiled into spirals or loose knots to recall the rope of Judas, which gives them their name. Families in Bohemia and Moravia bake them for breakfast that morning and brush them, still hot, with honey; eating one was once said to bring health for the year. They are soft and fluffy, lightly scented with lemon, with a sticky, shiny top. A common mistake is brushing the honey on cold buns, where it just sits; warm the honey and glaze them straight from the oven so it soaks in. Honey is not suitable for babies under one year old. Chef's tip: roll the ropes thinner than you think, about finger thickness; they double as they prove.

145 min

Czech Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Rajská omáčka

Every Czech school canteen has served rajská at some point, and many adults still crave this glossy, sweet and tangy tomato sauce poured over slices of tender boiled beef with bread dumplings. Bohemian cooks make it from the broth of the beef itself, thickened with a light roux and perfumed with clove, allspice, bay and a hint of cinnamon, so it tastes warmly spiced rather than like a pasta sauce. The usual slip is under-seasoning the sweet-sour balance: keep tasting and adjust sugar and vinegar until it is clearly both. Simmer the beef until a fork slides in easily. Pasta or rice work too if you are not making dumplings. Chef's tip: strain the sauce through a sieve at the end for the velvety restaurant texture.

120 min

Czech Meat

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pečená kachna se zelím

Roast duck is the feast of the Czech autumn, eaten on St Wenceslas' Day in September and St Martin's Day in November, when Bohemian pubs and homes cover the table with crisp-skinned duck, braised red cabbage and dumplings to soak up the juices. Caraway and salt are the only seasonings the bird needs; slow roasting renders the fat and leaves the meat soft, and the cabbage is cooked with some of that fat, apple, sugar and vinegar until glossy and sweet-sour. A common mistake is roasting hot from the start, which burns the skin before the fat melts; go low and slow, then crisp at the end. The thickest part of the thigh must reach 74 °C. Carve before bringing it to the table. Chef's tip: save the rest of the duck fat in a jar; it makes the best roast potatoes.

180 min

Czech Meat

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Moravský vrabec

"Moravian sparrow" has no bird in it: it is cubes of pork shoulder, roughly sparrow-sized, rubbed with garlic and caraway and roasted with onion until browned and tender, a Sunday lunch dish of the villages and inns of Moravia. Unlike the sliced pork roast of Bohemia, the small pieces give lots of crispy edges and a rich, garlicky pan juice. It comes with bread dumplings and stewed sauerkraut to soak it all up. The usual slip is cramming the meat into a small dish, so it boils instead of browning; spread it out in one layer. Pork should reach 71 °C and be tender enough to cut with a fork. Lard is the traditional fat; oil works too. Chef's tip: rub the pork with the garlic and caraway the night before and leave it covered in the fridge; the flavour goes right through.

120 min

Czech Meat

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Frgály

At weddings and church fairs in Moravian Wallachia, in the hills around Rožnov and Vsetín, tables are stacked with frgály: yeast tarts as wide as a dinner plate, rolled so thin the filling seems to sit on a crisp, chewy disc. The classic toppings are dried pear mixed with plum butter, sweet tvaroh (Czech quark), or poppy seed, all scattered with a buttery crumble. This recipe makes four, two with each of the first two fillings. Tvaroh is usually set without rennet, but some brands use it, so check the label. The usual slip is leaving the dough thick in the middle, which makes a bready tart; roll right to the edge, about 3 mm thick. Chef's tip: bake on the lowest oven shelf on a hot tray, so the base browns before the filling dries.

150 min

Czech Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Zelňák

Out in the Moravian wine villages, when bread was baked in the communal oven, the last of the dough went into zelňák: a flat yeast base spread with sour cabbage and fried onion and baked until the edges blister. It is still sold in bakeries around Brno and Hodonín and eaten warm in slices with a glass of buttermilk or new wine. Old recipes fry the onion in lard or add crackling; this version uses oil and butter and is vegetarian. The topping is tangy, sweet from the onion and scented with caraway, over a soft, bready base. Where it often goes wrong is using wet sauerkraut straight from the jar, which turns the base soggy. Squeeze it well and fry it first. Chef's tip: a thin layer of sour cream under the cabbage keeps the base moist and stops the topping drying out.

120 min

Czech Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bratislavské rožky

Bakers in old Pressburg, today's Bratislava, have shaped these little horns for nearly three centuries, and the city still treats them as its own Christmas and wedding pastry. The walnut ones are bent into a horseshoe and the poppy seed ones into a crescent, so you can tell them apart on the plate. The dough is rich and short, almost like a pastry, and the shiny brown top is crazed with fine cracks from a double egg glaze. A common mistake is glazing the second time before the first coat is dry, which leaves a dull, smooth top instead of the famous marbling. Patience is the whole trick: a cool rest after the yolk, then a warm rest after the white. Old recipes add a splash of rum to the walnut filling; this version uses lemon and cinnamon instead. Chef's tip: keep the dough cold and work quickly, so the butter stays in tiny flakes.

150 min

Czech Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Champús

When Lima's grey winter sets in, from June to September, champús sellers set up on street corners with big pots of this thick, fruity drink, ladled warm into glasses and eaten as much as drunk. It's made from mote (hulled white corn), simmered with pineapple, quince or apple, soursop, chancaca and warm spices, then thickened lightly with corn flour, so every spoonful has soft fruit and chewy corn in a spiced, molasses-sweet base. It is close in spirit to mazamorra morada but paler and tangier. The mistake people make is adding the thickener straight into the hot pot, where it forms lumps; always slake it in cold water first and pour it in while stirring. Canned or jarred hominy saves hours; frozen soursop (guanábana) pulp is in Latin shops and can be left out. Serve warm in glasses with spoons. Chef's tip: simmer the pineapple peel and core with the spices for the first 20 minutes, then strain them out; they give much of the flavour.

80 min

Peruvian Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Emoliente

Before dawn, all over Peru, emolienteros set up their carts with a row of steaming kettles and jars of herbs, and commuters stop for a glass of emoliente on the way to work. It's a hot infusion of toasted barley, flaxseed and herbs, with lime juice and sugar added to order, and it is drunk for comfort and digestion, especially in Lima's damp winter. The flaxseed gives it a slippery, soothing body; the barley a toasty, almost coffee-like note. Street versions use horsetail, alfalfa, boldo and other herbs; this home version keeps it simple, with horsetail as an option (leave it out if you are pregnant or have kidney problems). The usual error is boiling the flax too long, which makes the drink gloopy; add it for the last 10 minutes only. Serve very hot in glasses, with pan con queso or a sandwich. Barley contains gluten. Chef's tip: toast the barley yourself until it is deep brown; it's what gives emoliente its colour and its roasted flavour.

40 min

Peruvian Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Quinua con manzana

Morning market stalls and street carts from Lima to Huancayo ladle quinua con manzana into glasses alongside emoliente and maca, and many people drink it as breakfast on its own, with a bread roll or a sandwich beside it. Quinoa and chunks of apple are simmered with cinnamon and cloves until the grains burst and the liquid thickens, then sweetened and served warm or cold. Some stalls blend it smooth; others leave the grains and soft apple pieces to spoon up. It is mild, fruity and filling, and children usually like it. The mistake that ruins it is skipping the rinse: quinoa's natural coating, saponin, makes the drink bitter and soapy, so rub it under running water until the foam stops. Chef's tip: add a few drops of lime at the end; it lifts the apple and keeps the drink from tasting flat.

40 min

Peruvian Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Seco de chabelo

Piura's picanterías, near the dry northern border, serve this rough, savoury mash at lunch: green plantains, roasted or boiled and pounded, mixed with fried strips of carne seca (salted dried beef) and a quick sofrito of onion, tomato and ají amarillo. It is dense, salty and smoky, with the plantain's starchy sweetness, and is eaten with salsa criolla and fried ripe plantain or chifles (plantain crisps). The legend says it was invented for a soldier called Chabelo in the War of the Pacific. Use carne seca or cecina from Latin shops, or unseasoned beef jerky. Pounding the plantains smooth is the classic mistake: chabelo should be lumpy and rustic. Chef's tip: soak the dried beef in warm water for 30 minutes and taste a piece; if it's still very salty, change the water and soak again.

60 min

Peruvian Meat

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kispiño

Pressed in a fist so each one carries the marks of the cook's fingers, kispiño are small, dense quinoa cakes from the Puno highlands, steamed and then left to dry so they keep for weeks on journeys, herding trips and pilgrimages. Traditional ones are bound with a little lime water (from cal, the mineral) and fat; this home version uses oil and a pinch of aniseed and sugar, so they're vegan and pleasantly savoury-sweet. They're firm and chewy, a little like a grain cake, and good with hot tea, coca tea or a soup on a cold day. The common mistake is making the dough too wet, so the cakes slump in the steamer; it should feel like damp sand that holds its shape when squeezed. Ground quinoa is quinoa flour; grind your own from rinsed, dried and toasted grain, or buy it ready ground. Chef's tip: toast the ground quinoa in a dry pan first until it smells nutty, which takes away any bitterness.

55 min

Peruvian Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Aguajina

Aguaje is the scaly, chestnut-red fruit of the moriche palm that grows in the flooded forests around Iquitos, and its orange flesh ends up in ice lollies, ice cream and, above all, aguajina, the cold drink sold in plastic cups at every corner and in Belén market. The taste is unusual and loved locally: tangy, a little like apricot and carrot, with a rich, slightly oily body. Fresh aguaje must be softened in warm water for an hour before its thin layer of pulp can be scraped off; outside Peru, frozen aguaje pulp from Latin American shops is the realistic choice and gives a good result. A common slip is adding all the sugar before tasting: the pulp's sourness varies from pack to pack, so sweeten at the end. Serve very cold with lunch or on a hot afternoon. Chef's tip: blend the pulp with only part of the water first, so it breaks down fully, then stir in the rest.

15 min

Peruvian Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chapo

Breakfast stalls in Iquitos and the riverside towns of Loreto pour chapo into glasses from big steaming pots before the heat of the day sets in, and by afternoon the same drink is sold chilled. It is made from plantains left until their skins are black, simmered with cinnamon and cloves until soft, then blended smooth and loosened with milk. The result is thick, naturally sweet and gently spiced, somewhere between a smoothie and a thin custard, and children love it. Some families make it with water only; evaporated milk is the common addition in town. The mistake is using plantains that are still yellow-green: they taste starchy and the drink turns grey and gluey, so wait until the skins are mostly black and the fruit gives when pressed. Serve hot with bread or a tamal, or cold over ice. Chef's tip: strain it through a sieve after blending for a silky drink, and thin it with water if it thickens as it cools.

30 min

Peruvian Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Camu camu

Camu camu are small purple-red berries that grow on bushes along the flooded riverbanks of the Peruvian Amazon, and in Iquitos and Pucallpa they are sold as frozen pulp and blended into a sharp, pink refresco at juice bars and lunch places. The flavour is intensely sour, more than lime, with a faint cherry note, and the berries are famous for containing far more vitamin C than oranges. It is the drink people order with a heavy plate of tacacho or rice. Never boil camu camu or make the juice hours ahead: heat and air quickly fade its colour and much of the vitamin C, so blend it cold and drink it soon. Frozen pulp or freeze-dried powder from health-food and Latin shops are the forms you'll find abroad. Chef's tip: start with half the pulp and add more to taste; it's strong enough that a little goes a long way.

10 min

Peruvian Drinks

by KrazyBadal 0 views

King kong

Named, the story goes, after the giant ape because of its size when the film reached Peru, the king kong is Lambayeque's proudest sweet: thick, crumbly biscuit layers stacked with manjar blanco, a sticky pineapple jam and a peanut fudge, then cut into heavy slabs. Shops in Lambayeque and Chiclayo sell them by the kilo in boxes, and travellers carry them home as gifts. It is very sweet, buttery and dense, so a slice goes a long way with black coffee. This home version makes the manjar blanco from condensed and evaporated milk to save hours, then turns half of it into the peanut layer. The usual mistake is overbaking the biscuit until it is hard; take it out as soon as the edges are pale gold, as it firms up while it cools. It is a project, so make the fillings first and let them cool. Chef's tip: wrap the finished king kong and leave it overnight before cutting; the layers settle and soften into each other.

150 min

Peruvian Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Turrón de Doña Pepa

Every October, the month of the Señor de los Milagros processions in Lima, bakeries and street sellers pile their trays with turrón de Doña Pepa: layers of crumbly anise-flavoured sticks drenched in a dark syrup of chancaca cooked with fruit and spices, topped with a storm of coloured sprinkles. Popular lore credits it to Josefa Marmanillo, a woman from the Cañete valley who is said to have made it in thanks after the procession. It is sticky, crunchy and soft at once, with orange and clove in the syrup. Its downfall is usually runny syrup that soaks the sticks into mush; it needs to reach a thick, threading stage before it goes on. Chancaca is sold as cones or blocks in Latin shops; panela or dark muscovado also work. Some coloured sprinkles contain gelatin, so check the label. Chef's tip: make it a day ahead; the syrup sets and the sticks soften just enough to slice neatly.

120 min

Peruvian Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Asado uruguayo

Sunday in Uruguay means asado: in Montevideo backyards and the cattle towns of the interior, beef ribs (asado de tira), chorizo and morcilla cook slowly over the embers of a wood fire, with only coarse salt, while the family waits. The parrillero rakes coals under the grill and keeps the heat low and even. This recipe includes pork chorizo. The mistake is cooking over flames; the fire should burn down to embers you can hold your hand above for 6–8 seconds. Chef's tip: salt the meat only when it goes on the grill, with coarse salt, never fine.

140 min

Paraguayan Meat

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Anticuchos de corazón

As night falls in Lima, anticucheras set up charcoal grills on street corners and fan the smoke towards passers-by; the October processions of the Señor de los Milagros are lined with them. The skewers are traditionally beef heart, a lean, firm and surprisingly mild meat, soaked in a dark-red marinade of ají panca, vinegar, cumin and garlic. They come with a boiled potato, a piece of choclo (large-kernel corn) and a spicy green ají sauce. If you can't get heart, sirloin steak works well. Chef's tip: baste the skewers with the leftover marinade and oil using a few coriander stalks tied together as a brush, the way the street cooks do.

50 min

Peruvian Meat

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pachamanca a la olla

In the highlands around Huancayo and Ayacucho, families mark harvests and saints' days by burying marinated meats, potatoes, sweet potatoes, broad beans and humitas under hot stones and earth for a pachamanca, an 'earth pot'. City cooks get close to it with a heavy pot: the same green marinade of huacatay (black mint), chincho, ají and garlic, layered with meats and roots and steamed in their own juices under banana or corn leaves. Chef's tip: layer the hardest things lowest, potatoes on the bottom and chicken nearest the lid, just as the stones are packed in the field.

135 min

Peruvian Meat

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Moravské koláče

In the villages of South Moravia and Wallachia, nobody gets married without a mountain of koláče: small round yeast buns with a deep hollow filled with sweetened poppy seed, vanilla quark or povidla (thick plum butter), each crowned with buttery posypka crumble. Relatives bake hundreds for the wedding and send guests home with boxes of them, and they turn up again at village fairs (pouť) and Sunday coffee. Chef's tip: press the hollow deep and wide just before filling; the dough rises again in the oven, and a shallow dip pushes the filling over the edge.

80 min

Czech Baking

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 24 of 29 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 1 of 2