Skip to content
Recipes

All recipes

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

Postre MassiniCustard sponge with burnt sugar top

Montevideo's birthday cake of choice since the early twentieth century, the Massini is two thin layers of sponge sandwiching a thick filling of whipped cream folded with egg-yolk custard, crowned with a thin glassy crust of torched yolk and sugar. Bakeries across Uruguay sell it on Sundays. Traditional versions sometimes add a sweet fortified wine to the custard; this one is alcohol-free. The custard is cooked to a safe 71 °C. The common mistake is assembling with warm custard, which melts the cream into a puddle. Chef's tip: if you don't have a blowtorch, put the sugared top under a very hot grill for a minute and watch it closely.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pisco sour

Lima drinks its pisco sour as the aperitif before a long ceviche lunch, and celebrates it every year on the first Saturday of February; the recipe took shape in the city's bars in the 1920s. It is for adults only and stronger than its pillowy look suggests. Underneath a thick white foam you get sharp Peruvian lime, a clean sweetness and the floral, grapey warmth of quebranta pisco, with the bitters adding a spicy smell to every sip. The texture should be silky, almost creamy, never thin. The classic mistake is squeezing the limes too hard or too early: the oil from the pith turns the drink bitter within half an hour. Halve the limes, press each half gently by hand just before mixing and stop when the juice slows. The egg white is raw, so use pasteurised egg white for anyone pregnant, for babies, older people or anyone unwell, or swap in 30 ml aquafaba. It is ready when the foam stands about 1 cm high and is firm enough to hold the drops of bitters on its surface. Sip one slowly and drink responsibly. Chef's tip: shake once without ice first to whip the egg white, then again with ice; the foam will be twice as thick.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ají amarillo pasteYellow chilli paste

In Lima's markets ají amarillo is sold fresh all year, and most Peruvian cooks keep a tub of this paste in the fridge the way others keep tomato purée: it is the golden base of causa limeña, ají de gallina, papa a la huancaína, chupe and the sauce for tiraditos. The chillies are seeded, de-veined and blanched in three changes of water, which tames the heat and the raw grassiness, then peeled and blended with oil into a thick, silky, saffron-orange paste. It tastes fruity and sunny, almost like apricot and passion fruit, with a rounded, medium heat. Abroad, buy whole frozen ají amarillo from Latin grocers; dried ají mirasol, soaked, gives a darker, earthier paste. Common mistake: skipping the peeling; the thin skins leave papery flecks and a bitter edge. It is ready when it is completely smooth and holds a soft peak like thick hummus. This is a low-acid paste: keep it in the fridge for a week or freeze it, never on the shelf. Chef's tip: freeze it in an ice-cube tray; one cube is about a tablespoon, just right for a pot of ají de gallina.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chilcano de piscoPisco and ginger ale highball

When Lima's grey winter finally lifts and summer reaches the beaches south of the city, the chilcano takes over from the pisco sour: lighter, longer and made for an afternoon. Peru even gives it a Semana del Chilcano each January, and it is poured at weekend lunches with chifa or fried fish. This is a highball for adults only: pisco poured over a tall glass of ice with fresh lime and ginger ale, finished with a few drops of bitters. It should taste crisp and fizzy, with the ginger and lime lifting the floral grape notes of the pisco rather than hiding them. The common mistake is using too little ice and warm ginger ale, which gives a sweet, diluted drink that goes flat in minutes. Fill the glass to the top with ice and keep the ginger ale in the fridge until the last second. It is ready when the glass is frosty, the bubbles race up the sides and the bitters drift through the top as a pink haze. Light it may be, but drink responsibly. Chef's tip: try a fruit-infused pisco, made by steeping passion fruit or mandarin peel in the bottle for a few days; Limeños love a chilcano de maracuyá.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jugo de macaWarm maca drink

Before dawn at markets in Huancayo, Cusco and Lima, juice ladies ladle hot jugo de maca from big pots for workers on their way in: maca root, a turnip relative grown above 4,000 metres in the Junín highlands, simmered with milk, cinnamon and cloves and sweetened with honey or sugar. It tastes malty and toasty, a bit like butterscotch. The common mistake is stirring the powder straight into hot milk, which leaves gritty lumps; whisk it into a little cold milk first. Maca is not usually advised in pregnancy, so ask your doctor first if you are pregnant. Chef's tip: use gelatinised (cooked) maca powder if you can find it; it dissolves smoothly and is gentler on the stomach.

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

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

Brazo de reinaSponge roll with dulce de leche

The 'queen's arm' sits in the glass cabinet of every Chilean bakery: a light sponge rolled around a thick layer of manjar (Chilean dulce de leche) and dusted with icing sugar. At home it is the cake for a birthday tea or an unexpected visitor, because it bakes in 10 minutes. The common mistake is overbaking: a dry sponge cracks as you roll it. Take it out the moment it springs back. Chef's tip: roll the sponge up in a sugared tea towel while it is still hot and let it cool that way; it remembers the shape and won't crack when you fill it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MerkénSmoked chilli seasoning

Merkén comes from the Mapuche kitchens of Araucanía: cacho de cabra chillies are dried, smoked over a wood fire, then ground with toasted coriander seed and salt into a brick-red powder that is smoky, warm and lightly hot. In Temuco and across the south it is shaken over potatoes, eggs, sopaipillas, grilled fish and soups. Outside Chile, use dried smoked red chillies, or plain dried red chillies plus smoked paprika. The mistake to avoid is scorching the chillies in the pan: if they blacken, the whole jar is bitter. Chef's tip: grind it a little coarse, as it is sold in Temuco's market, so the coriander seeds stay noticeable.

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

Café de higoFig and grain coffee

In the farmhouses of central Chile, in the Maule and O'Higgins valleys, people have long drunk café de higo: a dark, caffeine-free "coffee" made from dried figs roasted with grains such as barley and wheat, then ground. It's mellow, fruity and slightly caramel-like, and many Chileans still prefer it with milk at breakfast. The fig granules are sold in Chilean and Latin grocers. The common mistake is brewing it like instant coffee, with a quick stir; it's a ground blend, so simmer it briefly and strain. It contains grains, so it is not gluten free. Chef's tip: a strip of orange peel in the pan brings out the fig flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChilenitosDulce de leche biscuit sandwiches

Chilenitos are small, fragile sweets from the bakeries and convent traditions of Chile's countryside: two paper-thin, crisp biscuits sandwiched with manjar and coated on top with a glossy white meringue. They are a fixture of once, christenings and the sweets table at weddings. The biscuits must be rolled almost transparent; thick dough gives a hard, dry chilenito. Chef's tip: use an Italian meringue (whites whisked with hot sugar syrup); it sets smooth and shiny and the eggs are cooked by the syrup, so it is safe to serve to everyone.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

ChumbequeLayered honey biscuit

Iquique's Chinese community began baking chumbeque in the port's corner shops more than a century ago, and today it is the city's edible souvenir: crisp, honey-sweet pastry stacked in thin layers with a sharp lemon filling and a sticky guava one, cut into small bricks. People take it home from the Zofri market or nibble it with tea at once. At home, bake it as one slab and slice it when cold. Many people roll the dough too thick, which gives a cakey, dry bar instead of fine layers; aim for 3 mm. Chef's tip: chill the rolled sheets for 10 minutes before you stack them so they don't stretch out of shape.

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

Leche con plátanoBanana milk

Ask anyone who grew up in Chile, from Arica to Punta Arenas, what they drank after school and many will say leche con plátano. It is made in a blender in two minutes, usually at onces, the late-afternoon tea, alongside marraqueta rolls with butter or avocado, and it is the first thing many children learn to make by themselves. It is pale, foamy and thick enough to leave a moustache, tasting simply of sweet ripe banana and cold milk, sometimes with a pinch of cinnamon. The common mistake is making it ahead: within half an hour the banana turns the milk greyish-beige and the foam collapses, so blend it just before drinking. It is ready when it is completely smooth, light and frothy, with no banana lumps at the bottom of the jug. Use bananas with a few brown freckles: they are sweet enough that you may need little or no sugar. Chef's tip: slice and freeze overripe bananas, then blend them straight from the freezer; the drink comes out icy and extra thick without any ice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Torta de mil hojasThousand-layer cake

Torta de mil hojas is the cake that turns up at Chilean birthdays, christenings and New Year: ten or more crisp, paper-thin pastry rounds stacked with manjar and chopped walnuts, which soften overnight into a cake that cuts cleanly yet still crunches. It is a labour of love, so families make it a day ahead and keep it cold. The common mistake is assembling and cutting it straight away: it shatters. Let it rest overnight in the fridge. Chef's tip: roll each sheet on its own piece of baking paper and bake it on that paper, so the thin rounds never have to be lifted raw. Walnuts are a tree nut: leave them out for anyone with an allergy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cocido quemadoBurnt sugar mate drink

Cocido is how Paraguay starts the day: in Asunción, in the villages of Guairá and Itapúa, and in school kitchens, a pot of burnt yerba is brewed and poured into cups with chipa, the cheesy cassava bread, or with a hard galleta. The old way is to drop a glowing piece of charcoal into a pot with yerba and sugar and stir until the sugar burns. On a home stove you caramelise them together in a dry pan instead, which is safer and gives the same smoky, toffee-like taste. The drink is clear amber-brown, with roasted, slightly bitter mate notes over burnt-sugar sweetness; with milk added it becomes cocido con leche, creamy and coffee-coloured. Yerba mate contains caffeine, so treat it like a cup of coffee. The common mistake is letting the sugar go black: it turns acrid and bitter. Pull it off the heat when the caramel is deep amber and the yerba smells toasted, not burnt. It is ready when the liquid is a clear dark amber and tastes of toffee and smoke. Chef's tip: the water will spit fiercely when it hits the hot caramel, so pour it in from the side, at arm's length.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TereréIced yerba mate

In Asunción the hottest part of the day stops for tereré: a horn or cup packed with yerba mate, topped up again and again with ice water infused with crushed herbs, and passed round the group through a metal straw. It was recognised by UNESCO as part of Paraguay's cultural heritage, and the herbs (yuyos) change with the season and the drinker's mood. Yerba mate contains caffeine, so it isn't one for small children. The common mistake is pouring water straight into loose yerba, which then clogs the straw; tilt the yerba to one side first. Chef's tip: for tereré ruso, swap the water for cold orange or grapefruit juice.

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

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

VanillekipferlVanilla almond crescents

No Austrian Christmas cookie tin is complete without Vanillekipferl, the pale little crescents that melt on the tongue; Viennese grandmothers bake them by the hundred in early December, and they are just as loved over the border in Bavaria. The dough is short and rich with butter and ground almonds, and the crescents are rolled in vanilla sugar while still warm so it sticks. The common mistake is overbaking: they should stay pale with only the tips turning golden, or they lose their tender, sandy texture. Chef's tip: chill the dough well and shape it with cool hands; warm dough cracks and the crescents spread in the oven.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AguajinaAguaje palm fruit drink

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.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Linzer Torte

Linz, the Danube city in Upper Austria, has baked this tart for centuries, and it still fills bakery windows there all year, with extra demand in Advent. It is closer to a soft, crumbly nut biscuit than a pastry: ground hazelnuts, butter, cinnamon and cloves are pressed into the tin, filled with tart redcurrant jam and topped with a lattice. Serve a thin slice with coffee or tea. A common mistake is eating it on the day it is baked; it is much better after two or three days, when the jam soaks into the crumb. Chef's tip: chill the lattice strips on a tray before lifting them on, and they will not tear.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 24 of 41 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 1 of 2