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.

Šakotis

Šakotis, 'branched', is the tall, spiky cake that crowns Lithuanian weddings and christenings: a rich egg batter dripped over a turning spit in front of an open fire, layer after layer, so the drips harden into branches that stick out like a fir tree. Specialist bakers around Druskininkai and Vilnius make them to order. At home, a foil-wrapped rolling pin turned slowly under a hot grill builds a smaller version. A common mistake is a thin batter, which runs off instead of forming spikes. Chef's tip: turn the spit slowly as you ladle on each layer and let the drips set before the next coat; the spikes form where the batter drips and hardens.

280 minBalticBaking
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kugelis

Kugelis is Sunday food all over Lithuania: raw potatoes grated very finely, mixed with eggs, hot milk and fried onion, then baked for over an hour in a deep tin until the top and edges are dark and crisp and the inside is dense and creamy. It is cut into squares and eaten with sour cream. Lithuanian families usually add bacon; this version uses plenty of onion fried in butter. A common mistake is leaving the grated potato to sit, which turns it grey. Chef's tip: pour hot milk over the potatoes as soon as they are grated; it stops them darkening and helps the pudding set.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mulgipuder

Mulgipuder comes from Mulgimaa, the old farming region of southern Estonia around Viljandi, and it has become one of the country's national dishes: potatoes and barley groats boiled together and mashed into a thick, nutty purée. It is normally topped with fried bacon and onion; this version uses mushrooms and onion fried in butter. It is eaten with sour milk or kefir and pickles. A common mistake is using too little water, so the barley stays hard while the potatoes are already soft. Chef's tip: start the barley first and add the potatoes after 20 minutes, so both are tender at the same moment.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kibinai

Kibinai are the pastries of the Karaim, a small Turkic community settled in Trakai, the lake-island castle town near Vilnius, since the 14th century. Every café along Karaimų street sells them hot from the oven: half-moon pastries of flaky, buttery dough with a juicy filling of chopped lamb and onion, crimped along the top. A common mistake is mincing the meat; the Karaim chop it into small cubes so the filling stays juicy. Chef's tip: use cold dough and bake hot, so the pastry flakes and the juices stay sealed inside. The filling must reach 71 °C.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kama

Kama is a uniquely Estonian food: a fine flour of roasted barley, rye, oats and peas, sold in every Tallinn supermarket, stirred into kefir, buttermilk or yogurt with a little sugar or honey and berries. It was once farmers' food for the fields; today it is a fast, filling breakfast and the flavour of Estonian ice creams and sweets. If you can't find kama, roast equal parts barley, rye and oat flour with a little pea flour in a dry pan until nutty. A common mistake is eating it at once; give it a few minutes to thicken. Chef's tip: stir in the kama, leave for 5 minutes, then add the berries, so it thickens like a mousse.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sklandrausis

Sklandrausis is the ancient pie of Kurzeme in western Latvia, an EU-protected speciality: a thin, crisp shell of rye pastry filled with a layer of mashed potato and a second layer of sweetened carrot spiced with cinnamon, baked until the carrot caramelises at the edges. It is sweet, earthy and served at midsummer (Jāņi) and folk festivals. A common mistake is rolling the rye dough thick, which makes the shell hard and heavy. Chef's tip: work the dough while warm and roll it thin; rye pastry made with hot water is soft and easy to pinch up into a rim.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cepelinai

Cepelinai, named after the Zeppelin airships they resemble, are Lithuania's national dish: big oval dumplings of grated raw and boiled potato wrapped around seasoned minced pork, simmered until glossy and served with a sauce of sour cream and fried bacon bits and onion. This dish contains pork. Families in Kaunas and Vilnius make them on weekends and holidays; curd cheese or mushroom fillings are common vegetarian versions. A common mistake is skipping the potato starch; it is what holds the dumplings together. Chef's tip: squeeze the grated potato very dry and stir back the starch that settles from the liquid. Minced pork must reach 71 °C.

100 minBalticMeat
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Maizes zupa

Maizes zupa, 'bread soup', is Latvia's way of using up dark rye bread: the bread is soaked and cooked down with dried fruit, sugar and cinnamon into a thick, sweet, deep-brown pudding, cooled and topped with whipped cream. It is on the menu in Riga's canteen-style restaurants and in school lunches, and every Latvian grandmother has her own version. A common mistake is using light rye; it needs dense, dark Latvian or German-style rye for its malty taste. Chef's tip: add a squeeze of lemon and a spoon of cranberries; their sharpness lifts the sweet, heavy soup.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Šaltibarščiai

Šaltibarščiai is the shocking-pink soup of Lithuanian summers, so loved that Vilnius holds a pink soup festival every June: cooked or pickled beetroot grated into cold kefir with cucumber, dill, spring onion and boiled egg, served with a plate of hot boiled potatoes on the side. The contrast of icy soup and steaming potatoes is the point. A common mistake is using warm beetroot, which dulls the colour and warms the soup. Chef's tip: grate chilled beetroot into ice-cold kefir and let it stand for 10 minutes; the colour deepens to vivid fuchsia.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pelēkie zirņi ar speķi

Grey peas with bacon is Latvia's national dish, eaten at Christmas and on the winter solstice and served in Riga's canteens all year: large, earthy grey peas soaked and boiled until soft but whole, then tossed with crisp pieces of fried smoked bacon and onion and served with a glass of cold kefir. This dish contains pork. Grey peas are sold in Baltic shops; carlin peas or brown chickpeas are close. A common mistake is overcooking the peas into mush. Chef's tip: fry the bacon slowly so its fat renders out, then fry the onion in that fat; it coats the peas with flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Skābeņu zupa

In late spring, Latvian gardens and meadows are full of sorrel, and skābeņu zupa is the first green soup of the year: potatoes simmered with onion and carrot, then a big handful of chopped sorrel added at the end, so the soup turns sour, bright and khaki-green. It is served hot or cold with a halved boiled egg and a spoon of sour cream. Use vegetable stock for a vegetarian soup. A common mistake is cooking the sorrel for long; it turns grey and loses its tang in a minute. Chef's tip: add half the sorrel at the end and the other half raw in the bowl for colour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jāņu siers

Jāņu siers is the round, golden caraway cheese that Latvians make for Jāņi, the midsummer festival on 23–24 June, when it is eaten with rye bread and honey, and songs, around bonfires. Unlike most cheeses it needs no rennet: fresh curd cheese is cooked with hot milk, eggs, butter and caraway into a smooth mass, then pressed in a cloth and left to set. Its round shape and golden colour stand for the sun. A common mistake is cooking it over a high heat, which makes it grainy and rubbery. Chef's tip: stir constantly over a low heat until it pulls away from the pan in one shiny ball, then press it straight away.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Estonian kringle

Kringel is the celebration bread of Estonia, baked for birthdays and name days and carried to every visit: a rich yeast dough rolled with cinnamon butter and sugar, sliced lengthways, twisted into a braided wreath so the layers show, and baked until golden. In Tallinn's old-town cafés it is sold by the slice with coffee. A common mistake is cutting the roll with a blunt knife, which squashes the layers. Chef's tip: chill the filled roll for 15 minutes before slicing; it cuts cleanly and twists without the filling escaping.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sorrentinos de calabaza

Mar del Plata claims the sorrentino, a big round stuffed pasta about the size of a jam-jar lid that Italian-Argentine cooks made their own in the mid-20th century; despite the name, you won't find it in Sorrento. Every fresh-pasta shop in Buenos Aires province sells them by the dozen on Sunday mornings, and the squash version, with roasted calabaza, ricotta and nutmeg, is the most loved. The filling is sweet and soft, the pasta thin but sturdy, and the sauce is either brown butter with sage or a plain tomato filetto. The classic mistake is boiled squash: it carries too much water, the filling weeps and the parcels burst in the pot, so the squash is roasted until dry and caramelised. Grated hard cheese is usually made with animal rennet; choose a vegetarian hard cheese if needed. Chef's tip: chill the filling until firm before you shape it; a cold, stiff filling is far easier to seal without air pockets.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Empanadas de pescado

Along the coast of Santa Fe, especially during Lent and Holy Week, fishmongers' stalls and riverside kiosks sell fried empanadas filled with sábalo or surubí. The fish is poached, flaked and folded through soft onion and sweet pepper, then sealed in a thin oil-based dough and fried until blistered and crisp. Squeeze lemon over them and eat them warm, with a green salad or just a paper napkin. Any firm white fish works: hake, cod or a farmed catfish. The mistake people make most is skipping the bone check; river fish such as sábalo hide fine bones, so run your fingers through every flake. Chef's tip: keep the filling quite dry and cold before you fill the discs; extra liquid turns to steam in the hot oil and bursts the seams.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Zapallitos rellenos

Round green zapallitos, the size of a tennis ball, pile up at every verdulería in Buenos Aires from December to March, and stuffing them is how home cooks turn a cheap summer vegetable into a main course. The shells are blanched, hollowed and refilled with their own flesh fried with onion and red pepper, bound with egg and melting cheese, and topped with breadcrumbs that bake to a crunchy lid. Expect a soft, savoury, slightly creamy filling under a golden crust; serve two per person with a tomato and onion salad or white rice. Overcooking the shells in the first boil is the trap: they collapse in the oven and leak water, so they only get 4 minutes. Round courgettes, eight-ball squash or short fat courgettes all work. The cheeses are usually made with animal rennet; swap in vegetarian versions if needed. Chef's tip: squeeze the chopped flesh in a clean cloth before frying it; drier filling means a firmer, tastier stuffing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bife a caballo

On the chalkboard of any neighbourhood bodegón in Buenos Aires you will find bife a caballo, steak "on horseback": a thick bife de chorizo (sirloin) or rump seared hard in a hot pan, crowned with two fried eggs whose yolks run into the meat juices, and served with a pile of chips. It is the plate for hungry taxi drivers at lunch and for anyone recovering from a long night. Cook the steak to your taste; Argentines usually ask for it jugoso (medium rare, about 55 °C in the centre) or a punto (medium, about 60 °C). Use eggs fried until the whites are fully set, and cook the yolks firm for anyone vulnerable. Crowding a pan that isn't hot enough is the classic mistake, which stews the steak grey, so let the pan smoke first. Chef's tip: rest the steak while you fry the eggs in the same pan; the beef juices in the fat give the whites crisp, savoury edges.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Budín de pan

Thrifty Argentine kitchens never throw away stale bread: it becomes budín de pan, soaked in sweet milk and eggs, poured into a caramel-lined ring mould and baked in a water bath until it sets into something between a flan and a pudding. Bodegones in Buenos Aires and neighbourhood bakeries serve it in fat wedges, cold, with a spoonful of dulce de leche or whipped cream, the amber caramel running down the sides. The texture should be smooth and dense with only faint traces of bread, studded with plump raisins. The mistake to avoid is skipping the blending or soaking: chunks of dry bread turn into wet sponges and the pudding splits into layers. Chef's tip: let it cool and chill overnight in the mould before turning it out; a warm budín breaks when unmoulded and the caramel won't have melted into a sauce.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chivito al asador

Malargüe, in the dry south of Mendoza, holds a goat festival every summer, and the star is the chivito: a milk-fed kid opened flat, wired to an iron cross and planted at an angle beside a fire of jarilla or other hardwood. It cooks from the side, never over the flames, basted with a garlicky salmuera until the skin turns glassy and crackling and the meat pulls apart. Serve it straight from the cross with salad, bread and chimichurri. Order a whole kid of 5–7 kg dressed weight from a specialist or halal butcher, and check the cross fits it before the day. Most failures come from setting it too close to the fire, which burns the outside while the thick legs stay raw. Kid is lean, so cook it right through, as in Mendoza: the thickest part of the leg should reach at least 70 °C. Chef's tip: cook bone side to the fire for two-thirds of the time; the ribs protect the meat, and the skin goes on last so it crisps instead of scorching.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Salsa golf

Mar del Plata's golf club gave its name to this sauce in the 1920s, so the story goes, and Argentines have been mixing mayonnaise and ketchup ever since. It is the pink sauce of the 1970s cocktail party and the seaside: spooned into half avocados (palta a la golf), over hearts of palm, onto a cold hard-boiled egg, beside fries or into a prawn cocktail, and every family has its own ratio. A drop of lemon and a dash of mustard lift it from a simple mix to something tangy and creamy. Too much ketchup is the misstep that turns it sweet and orange; it should be a soft salmon pink. Use shop-bought mayonnaise, which is made with pasteurised egg; if you make your own, use pasteurised eggs. Check the labels of the mayonnaise, ketchup and mustard if you need it gluten free. Chef's tip: let it sit in the fridge for 15 minutes before serving; the flavours blend and it thickens slightly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Trucha a la manteca

Restaurants on the shores of Nahuel Huapi, in Bariloche and Villa La Angostura, put rainbow trout from the cold Andean lakes on almost every menu, and this butter version is the one locals order most. Fillets are fried with crisp skin, then drenched in butter browned with flaked almonds and sharpened with lemon. Serve with boiled new potatoes and a green salad. Any trout or char works. People commonly start the fish in butter, which burns before the skin crisps; fry it in a film of oil and make the brown butter after. Chef's tip: dry the skin really well and dust it with rice flour; it gives a thin, glassy crust without any gluten.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chinchulines

No proper Sunday asado in Buenos Aires province or the interior is complete without a round of achuras, and chinchulines are the boldest of them: beef small intestine, coiled on the grill and cooked slowly until the outside crackles like pork scratchings and the inside stays soft and rich with its own fat. Pass them round on a board with lemon and bread as a starter while the bigger cuts cook. Buy them already cleaned from a butcher or a Latin American meat counter, and rinse them again well at home. The usual mistake is too much heat: the outside burns long before the inside cooks. Offal must be cooked right through, with no soft, raw-looking parts. Chef's tip: simmer them briefly before grilling; it cleans them further, shortens the time on the coals and gives you a much more even crunch.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Centolla gratinada

Centolla, the southern king crab hauled from the cold waters of the Beagle Channel, is Ushuaia's pride, and seafood restaurants along the harbour serve it gratinada: sweet chunks of leg meat in a light white sauce, crowned with cheese and browned under a fierce grill. It is rich, so serve it in small dishes as a starter with lemon and a green salad, plus crusty bread for anyone who can eat gluten. Buy cooked, frozen king crab legs or meat and thaw them in the fridge overnight; if you ever cook crab yourself, it must be alive when it goes into the pot. A frequent mistake is a sauce so thick and cheesy that the delicate crab disappears; keep it pourable and the cheese thin. Chef's tip: fold the crab in gently at the end, in big pieces, and let the oven only heat it; it is already cooked and turns stringy if it boils.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Patay

Long before sugar reached the dry northwest, the pods of the algarrobo tree were the region's sweetness, and patay is the oldest way of keeping them: the pods are ground, the flour is moistened and pressed into a cake that dries into something dense, fudgy and naturally sweet, with notes of cocoa, coffee and caramel. In Santiago del Estero you still buy it in round slabs at markets and roadside stalls, to eat with mate or to crumble into milk. Harina de algarroba comes from the South American Prosopis tree; look for it in health-food shops or online, and mesquite flour is the same family and works well. Mediterranean carob flour is different and tastes more bitter. Too much water is the way most first attempts go wrong: the cake should be pressed from a damp, crumbly mix, not a batter, or it bakes up gummy. Chef's tip: sieve the flour twice; algarroba flour clumps, and lumps stay as hard grains.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 24 of 147 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 1 of 7