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.

Ouzi

Ouzi is the showpiece of Jordanian and Damascene wedding buffets and Eid lunches: golden filo bundles that break open to spiced rice, minced lamb, peas and toasted nuts. The name comes from the whole roast lamb once served on a mountain of rice; the parcels are the neat, home-sized version, made ahead and baked as guests arrive. Serve with plain yoghurt or a cucumber-yoghurt salad. The common mistake is filling the filo with wet rice, which turns the bottoms soggy, so cook the rice until just tender and spread it out to steam dry. Chef's tip: lay a few nuts and peas in the bowl first, then the filo, then the filling, so each parcel comes out with a pretty top.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Rashoof

In the stone villages around Karak and Tafileh, rashoof is what simmers on cold, wet evenings: brown lentils and coarse bulgur cooked soft, then enriched with jameed, the dried salted yoghurt that is also the soul of mansaf. The result is thick, sour and comforting, almost a porridge, finished with a heap of onions fried golden in samneh. Jameed is sold in hard balls or as a liquid in Middle Eastern shops; thick strained yoghurt with a little extra salt makes a fine stand-in. The classic mistake is letting the soup boil hard once the yoghurt goes in, which makes it split into grainy curds. Chef's tip: temper the yoghurt with a ladle of hot soup first and stir in one direction over a low heat; it stays silky.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hilbeh

Hilbeh is the tray cake Jordanian grandmothers bake in winter and for visits after childbirth, when fenugreek is believed to warm and strengthen. Soaked fenugreek seeds swell into soft, jelly-coated beads that dot a dense semolina crumb, giving a gently bitter, maple-like scent that the hot syrup softens. Cut into diamonds, each topped with an almond, it sits on the coffee table beside Arabic coffee from Irbid to Aqaba. The mistake people make is using the seeds dry: they stay hard and bitter, so boil and soak them first. Chef's tip: pour cold syrup over the cake the moment it leaves the oven; hot-on-cold soaks in evenly and keeps the top from going soggy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Galayet bandora

Ask anyone in Amman what they cook when the fridge is nearly empty and the answer is often galayet bandora: ripe tomatoes collapsed in a shallow pan with olive oil, garlic and hot green chilli until they turn jammy and sweet. It turns up at breakfast, as a quick supper, and over a camp fire on desert trips to Wadi Rum, always eaten straight from the pan with torn khubz or shrak. Some families add cubes of lamb; this meatless version is the one most homes make every week. The usual mistake is stirring too much and adding water, which gives you a thin sauce instead of glossy, slightly caramelised tomatoes. Chef's tip: let the tomatoes sit untouched for the first few minutes so their undersides catch and colour; that touch of browning is where the flavour comes from.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Haneeneh

Haneeneh is desert comfort food from the Bedouin tents of the Jordanian Badia: soft dates mashed into hot samneh with crumbs of yesterday's flatbread, scented with cardamom and pressed into a rich, fudgy sweet. It is made for guests, for new mothers and for cold mornings before herding, eaten by hand with black tea or Arabic coffee. It takes ten minutes and uses only store-cupboard things. The mistake to avoid is cooking the dates too long once they meet the ghee; they turn stiff and chewy instead of jammy. Chef's tip: toast the crumbs in the ghee first until nutty, then add the dates off the heat so the mixture stays soft.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Zarb

Visitors to the desert camps of Wadi Rum often watch the zarb come up from the sand at sunset: tiered racks of spiced lamb, chicken, potatoes and onions that have steamed for hours in a pit of embers, then lifted out smoky and falling apart. At home you get close with a deep roasting tin sealed tightly with foil, a long, low oven and a short blast of heat at the end. Serve it on a big platter over rice or with shrak, with yoghurt and a tomato salad. The mistake most people make is leaving gaps in the foil, so the steam escapes and the meat dries. Chef's tip: marinate overnight in the fridge and add a little smoked paprika to the spice mix; it brings back the taste of the pit.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Shorbat freekeh

When the sunset call to prayer ends the Ramadan fast in Amman, the first spoonfuls are very often shorbat freekeh, a nourishing broth thickened with cracked green wheat that was roasted in the field while still young. The smoke from that roasting gives the soup its distinctive, almost barbecue-like depth, while chicken, cinnamon and cardamom keep it gentle on an empty stomach. It is followed by dates, salad and the main dish. The usual mistake is not picking over and rinsing the freekeh, which can hold tiny stones and chaff. Chef's tip: toast the rinsed freekeh in butter for a couple of minutes before adding the broth; it brings out the smokiness.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Shrak

In Bedouin camps around Wadi Rum and Ma'an, shrak is baked fresh for every meal: dough stretched thinner than a handkerchief, flung over a domed iron saj above the fire and lifted off seconds later, soft and blistered. It is the bread that lines the mansaf platter and wraps grilled meat, and it is torn for galayet and labneh at breakfast. At home an upturned wok over a gas flame stands in for the saj. The common mistake is rolling the dough on a dry surface; it tears, so oil your hands and worktop instead and stretch the dough over the backs of your hands like a pizza maker. Chef's tip: rest the dough balls a full 30 minutes, well oiled and covered; relaxed gluten stretches to near see-through without fighting back.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ka'ak bi ajwa

In the last nights of Ramadan, Jordanian kitchens turn into small bakeries, and trays of ka'ak bi ajwa go into neighbourhood ovens ready for Eid morning. A crumbly semolina pastry scented with anise and mahlab is wrapped round a rope of date paste, closed into rings and baked pale gold, then offered to every visitor with bitter Arabic coffee. Children usually do the rolling. The common mistake is overworking the dough after the butter goes in, which makes the cookies hard rather than sandy. Chef's tip: rest the semolina and butter mixture overnight before adding the liquid; the grains drink the fat and the ka'ak melt in the mouth.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Banh tom Ho Tay

Lakeside cafés on the shore of West Lake (Hồ Tây) in Hanoi have sold these fritters for generations, and locals still ride out on cool autumn afternoons to eat them looking over the water. Each one is a nest of sweet-potato matchsticks held together by a thin, turmeric-tinted batter, with a whole small shrimp pressed on top so its shell fries crisp. They come piled on a plate with lettuce, herbs and a bowl of sweet-sour fish sauce dotted with slices of green papaya or kohlrabi. You wrap a piece of fritter in a lettuce leaf with a few herbs and dunk it. Chef's tip: soak the cut sweet potato in cold water for 10 minutes and then dry it really well; washing off the surface starch is what keeps the strands separate and crunchy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Banh beo

Bánh bèo are named after the water fern that floats on Huế's ponds, which the little round cakes resemble. In the city they arrive at the table by the dozen, each still in its own small saucer, topped with pink shrimp floss and spring onion oil. You spoon sweet fish sauce over and scoop each one out in a single mouthful. They're a mid-afternoon snack or a light lunch alongside other Huế rice cakes. Small ramekins, egg poaching cups or a silicone mini-muffin tray all work as moulds. Chef's tip: heat the empty saucers in the steamer for a minute before adding the batter; the cakes then set with the little dimple in the middle that holds the toppings.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cao lau

You will really only find proper cao lầu in Hội An, the old trading port on Vietnam's central coast, where it's sold in small family eateries and along the riverside at lunch. The noodles are yellowish and unusually chewy, made with lye water that locals traditionally link to the town's ancient Bá Lễ well. They come almost dry, topped with slices of sweet five-spice pork, raw greens and crisp squares of fried dough, with just a spoonful of the pork juices. Because the real noodles are very hard to buy outside Hội An, this home version uses thick udon noodles, which give a similar bouncy chew; it is a substitute, not the original. Chef's tip: rinse the cooked udon in cold water, then dip briefly in hot water just before serving, so they are warm but firm.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Hu tieu

Hủ tiếu came to southern Vietnam with Teochew Chinese and Cambodian influences, and in Saigon it's as everyday as pho, sold from street carts at dawn and again late into the night. The broth is light and clear, sweet from pork bones, daikon and dried shrimp, and the bowl is loaded with sliced pork, minced pork, prawns and often quail eggs. Clear, chewy noodles and a spoon of crispy garlic oil set it apart. Many people order it khô, dry, with the noodles tossed in sauce and the soup on the side. Chef's tip: toast the dried squid over a flame before it goes in the pot; it gives the broth a sweet, savoury depth that's hard to place.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ga kho gung

Across Vietnam, from Hanoi apartments to Mekong Delta farmhouses, a small pot of something braised in caramel and fish sauce sits on the family table at dinner with rice, a plate of boiled greens and a clear soup. This chicken version leans on ginger, cut into fine matchsticks so it turns soft and warming in the glossy, salty-sweet sauce. It's a favourite when the weather cools, traditionally cooked in a clay pot, though any heavy pan will do. It reheats well, so it's a good one for the next day's lunch. Chef's tip: take the caramel to the colour of strong tea, deep amber, before the chicken goes in; that slight bitterness is what keeps the dish from tasting sugary.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Banh mi

On Saigon pavements at breakfast time, bánh mì carts with glass cases are stacked with light, crackly rolls, tubs of pickles and trays of pâté and pork. The bread came with the French, but the filling is entirely Vietnamese: a smear of liver pâté and mayonnaise, cold cuts or lemongrass-grilled pork, sweet-sour carrot and daikon, cucumber, coriander and fresh chilli, with a splash of savoury seasoning sauce. It's eaten on the move, often on the back of a motorbike. This is the meat version; there is also a lemongrass tofu bánh mì on the site. Chef's tip: choose the lightest, airiest baguettes you can find, as a dense French loaf squeezes the filling out the sides.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pho cuon

On Ngũ Xã, a little island of streets between Trúc Bạch lake and West Lake in Hanoi, whole rows of restaurants sell nothing but pho in different shapes, and phở cuốn is the one people order by the plateful in the evening. Instead of cutting the fresh rice-noodle sheet into ribbons, the cooks leave it whole and roll it round seared beef, lettuce and herbs. The rolls are soft, cool and slightly chewy, and you dip them in a light, sweet fish sauce with pickled carrot. Look for fresh rice-noodle sheets in the chiller of an Asian supermarket, often sold for Chinese ho fun. Chef's tip: if the sheets are stiff from the fridge, steam or microwave them for 30 seconds under a damp cloth before separating, or they tear.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Banh cuon

In Hanoi, banh cuon shops open early, and the cook sits beside a pot of boiling water stretched over with cloth, spreading batter across it in one sweep and lifting off sheets thin enough to see through. Each sheet is rolled around a little minced pork and crunchy wood-ear mushroom, cut into pieces, showered with crispy shallots and dipped into warm fish sauce. Slices of Vietnamese pork roll and a sprig of herbs often come on the side. At home a lidded non-stick frying pan does the job of the cloth, and once you find the rhythm the sheets come quickly. Chef's tip: make a practice sheet first; the first one is almost always a little too thick, and it tells you how much batter to use.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Xoi xeo

Xôi xéo is a Hanoi breakfast sold before dawn from baskets on the pavement, wrapped in a lotus or banana leaf for people to eat on the way to work. Turmeric-tinted glutinous rice is steamed until chewy, then topped with thin shavings cut from a firm ball of cooked mung bean (the 'xéo' is the slanting cut) and a spoonful of crunchy fried shallots with their fragrant oil. Street sellers often use pork fat for the shallots; frying them in vegetable oil keeps it vegan and still rich. Chef's tip: squeeze the mung bean paste into a tight ball while it is warm and let it cool before shaving; a loose ball crumbles instead of slicing into ribbons.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Vegetarian bun rieu

In Hanoi, bún riêu is a mid-morning bowl bought from street sellers who set up on low plastic stools: a tangy red tomato broth with rice vermicelli and soft, floating curds that are normally made from pounded paddy crab. Vegetarian cooks and Buddhist temple kitchens make bún riêu chay instead, folding crumbled tofu, egg and chopped shiitake into the same loose, spongy curds, and seasoning the broth with fermented tofu rather than shrimp paste. It arrives with fried tofu, lime, chilli, shredded water spinach and perilla, so each spoonful is sour, savoury and fresh at once. Chef's tip: let the tomatoes fry in the annatto oil until they collapse into a jammy paste before any stock goes in; that is where the broth gets its colour and depth.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cha ca La Vong

A family restaurant in Hanoi's Old Quarter served this one dish for so long that the street itself was renamed Chả Cá, Grilled Fish Street. Chunks of white fish are marinated in turmeric and galangal, cooked until golden, then brought to the table in a pan of hot oil where everyone throws in handfuls of dill and spring onion to wilt. You eat it over rice vermicelli with peanuts, fresh herbs and a pungent shrimp-paste dip. Dill is rare elsewhere in Vietnamese cooking, which is why this dish tastes so distinct. Chef's tip: use a lot more dill than seems sensible; it is treated as a vegetable here, not a garnish.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Vietnamese baked banana cake

Bánh chuối nướng is sold by the slab from glass-fronted carts and bakeries in Saigon, a soft, heavy cake made from overripe bananas, day-old bread and coconut milk, baked until the top turns deep amber and the bananas go sticky and jammy. It sits somewhere between a bread pudding and a custard cake, and Saigon people eat it as an afternoon snack, often with a little warm coconut sauce poured over. Home cooks make it to use up blackened bananas and stale baguette. Chef's tip: use the ripest bananas you can find, with brown-spotted skins; they give the cake its colour and sweetness.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bot chien

Bột chiên came to Saigon with the Teochew Chinese community of Chợ Lớn and is now an after-school snack sold from street pans across the city in the late afternoon. Cubes of steamed rice-flour cake are fried in a wide pan until crisp outside and soft inside, then an egg is poured over and stirred until it binds them in golden scraps. It is eaten with shredded pickled green papaya and a sweet, sour soy dipping sauce. Chef's tip: make the cake the day before and chill it overnight; cold, firm cake cuts into neat cubes and crisps far better.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Banh can

Bánh căn comes from Phan Rang on the south-central coast and is now a favourite of chilly evenings in Da Lat, where sellers crouch over charcoal and rows of small clay moulds, cracking a quail egg into each little cup of rice batter. The cakes come out crisp and browned underneath and soft and steamy on top, and are eaten in pairs, dunked in a sweet-sour dipping sauce with shredded green mango and herbs. Most stalls use a fish sauce dip and sometimes add squid or shrimp; this version keeps it vegetarian with a tamari sauce and spring onion oil. Chef's tip: let a little of the cooked rice in the batter go into the blender; it gives the cakes their soft, slightly chewy middle.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bun bo Hue

Huế, once the seat of Vietnam's emperors, is known for food that is spicier and bolder than in the north or south, and this soup is the city's breakfast. Compared with pho it is louder in every way: the broth smells of lemongrass and fermented shrimp, it glows red with chilli oil, and the noodles are thick and round. Beef shank and slices of pork hock go in every bowl, often with pork roll, and it comes with a plate of mint, banana blossom and bean sprouts. Locals add pig's blood cubes too, which we leave out here. Chef's tip: bruise the lemongrass stalks hard with a rolling pin before they go in, so their oils flood the broth.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 24 of 57 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 1 of 3