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.

Bassi salté (festive millet couscous)

When a Senegalese family celebrates, a wedding, a baptism or a religious feast, bassi salté may well be the dish that comes out in huge enamel bowls. Fine millet couscous is steamed twice until feather-light, then crowned with lamb and chicken in a tomato-onion sauce with carrots, cabbage, turnips and sweet potato, and a sweet note from raisins. It is a long cook but most of it is simmering, and the reward is a dish that feeds a crowd: fluffy grains, rich sauce, tender meat and soft vegetables in every spoonful. Don't drown the millet when moistening it between steamings; it should be damp, not wet, or it turns into porridge. Chef's tip: cook the chicken only for the last 35 minutes and check that the thickest piece reaches 74 °C; added at the start with the lamb, it overcooks to dry shreds while the lamb is still tough.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mbourake (peanut and date bread crumble)

Yesterday's baguette never goes to waste in a Senegalese kitchen during Ramadan. Mbourake turns it into a rich, crumbly sweet: the bread is dried, rubbed to crumbs and pounded with roasted peanut paste and sugar until it clumps, then mixed with chopped dates and pressed into balls or served loose in a bowl at the ndogu, the evening meal that breaks the fast. Some families use steamed millet instead of bread. It tastes like a cross between peanut cookie dough and a date bar, sweet, nutty and filling, and it is good with a glass of café Touba or milk. Chef's tip: dry the bread fully until it snaps; soft bread gives a gummy paste instead of a light crumble.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Senegalese ginger juice

Nearly every Senegalese party, baptism and wedding table carries a jug of jus de gingembre next to the bissap, and Dakar street sellers keep it in frosted plastic bottles. Fresh ginger is blended with water, left to steep, strained and sweetened, then brightened with lemon and mint. Expect a sweet first sip followed by a strong, warming burn that is surprisingly refreshing when the drink is ice cold. Some cooks add a little pineapple juice or vanilla for a rounder taste. Chef's tip: taste before serving and dilute with cold water if it is too fierce; the most common mistake is serving it undiluted, when it can be strong enough to make people cough.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Caldou (Casamance fish in lemon broth)

Light, tangy and clean-tasting, caldou is the fish dish of Ziguinchor and the river towns of Casamance, where fresh catches from the estuary are poached in a broth sharp with lemon, sweet with soft onion and tomato, and warmed by a whole chilli. It is ladled over plain white rice so the grains soak up the broth, with an extra squeeze of lemon at the table. Some cooks add a few okra or a spoon of palm oil; this version keeps it simple and light. Firm white fish such as grouper, sea bream or hake is ideal. Chef's tip: keep the broth at a bare simmer once the fish goes in; boiling it hard is the common mistake and turns delicate fish dry and broken.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sombi (Senegalese coconut rice pudding)

Spooned warm from a pot at the Ramadan ndogu, the evening break of the fast, or eaten as a gentle supper on cool Dakar nights, sombi is the Senegalese take on rice pudding. Broken rice is simmered in water first, then in coconut milk and a little dairy milk until it turns soft and creamy, sweetened just enough and finished with vanilla and a pinch of nutmeg. The texture is looser than a baked rice pudding, almost porridge-like, with a clean coconut taste. Broken rice, sold as brisures in African shops, cooks fastest and gives the right silky feel. Avoid boiling hard once the coconut milk goes in, or it splits and turns greasy. Chef's tip: add the coconut milk only after the rice is half cooked in water, because grains boiled from raw in coconut milk stay hard and the fat can split.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Thiéré with vegetable sauce

On the night of Tamkharit, the Muslim new year, families across Dakar and the Wolof heartland sit down to thiéré: fine millet couscous steamed until light, moistened with a rich sauce and eaten from a shared bowl, while children go door to door in costume afterwards. Most households add lamb or beef; this is the meat-free way, with cabbage, carrot, turnip, sweet potato and chickpeas in a tomato and black pepper broth. The millet is grainy, nutty and soft, the sauce soaks into it, and a whole Scotch bonnet adds perfume rather than burn if left unbroken. The usual mistake is steaming the millet only once, which leaves it gritty; it needs a second steaming after being moistened. Chef's tip: rub the couscous between your palms after the first steaming to break every clump; skipping this is why home thiéré turns heavy and lumpy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lakh (millet porridge with sweet curd)

Thick, warm millet porridge topped with cold, sweetened curd: lakh is a Senegalese pairing of contrasts that turns up at naming ceremonies, family gatherings and on Ramadan evenings in Dakar. The millet is rolled into tiny pellets and simmered until it sets like soft polenta, then a creamy sauce of soured milk, sugar and baobab powder is poured over, its tang lifted by vanilla or orange flower water. Each spoonful mixes chewy, nutty grains with something cool and lightly sour. Plain yoghurt mixed with a little cream stands in well for Senegalese soow; use pasteurised dairy and keep leftovers in the fridge. Don't pour the curd over hot porridge; let the lakh cool so the curd stays thick and fresh. Chef's tip: cool the porridge until just warm before adding the curd, so the sauce stays thick instead of thinning out.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Café Touba (spiced Senegalese coffee)

Poured from tall kettles into small cups on street corners from Dakar to the holy city of Touba, café Touba is coffee roasted together with djar, the smoky, peppery pods also called grains of selim, and often a few cloves. The drink is linked with the Mouride brotherhood and its founder Cheikh Amadou Bamba, and it is drunk sweet and strong at any hour. It has a deep roasted bitterness with a tingle of pepper and clove at the back of the throat. Roasting green beans at home takes about 20 minutes and makes enough for several pots; if you cannot get green beans, toast the spices separately and grind them with medium-roast coffee. Most people go wrong by grinding the djar (selim pepper) too coarsely, so its peppery note never comes through. Chef's tip: roast over a moderate heat and keep the beans moving, since high heat burns the outside while the inside stays raw and sour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Dakhine (rice with peanut sauce and lamb)

Somewhere between mafé and a risotto, dakhine is everyday Dakar comfort food: lamb or beef simmered in a peanut and tomato sauce, with the rice cooked right in the same pot until it soaks up all that nutty, savoury flavour. The result is thick, rich and very filling, the meat falling apart into the rice and a gentle heat from a whole Scotch bonnet. It is eaten from a shared bowl at lunchtime, with a squeeze of lime or a little chilli sauce on the side. Chef's tip: make sure the lamb is completely tender before the rice goes in, because the rice sets the timetable after that; adding it too early is the common mistake that leaves tough meat in mushy rice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Yokhos (Casamance oysters with onion and lemon)

In the mangrove creeks of Casamance, women gather oysters from the roots at low tide, and in villages around Ziguinchor and Oussouye yokhos are grilled over wood until they pop open, then tossed in a sauce of soft onion, lemon and chilli. The oysters turn plump and firm, briny against the sharp, sweet onions. Eat them with rice or bread as a light meal. Mangrove oysters are rarely sold abroad, so use any fresh rock or Pacific oysters. This dish is always cooked: buy live oysters from a reputable fishmonger, discard any with broken shells or that are open and do not close when tapped, and throw away any that stay shut after grilling. Chef's tip: simmer the oyster meat in the sauce only until the edges curl and the flesh is firm right through; that takes about 3 minutes, and going much longer makes them rubbery.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mbakhal (Saloum rice with peanuts and dried fish)

Mbakhal belongs to the Saloum, the peanut country around Kaolack and the Sine-Saloum delta, where it is cooked for gatherings and the Muslim feast days. Rice is simmered until soft and almost porridge-like in a sauce of ground peanuts, tomato and onion, together with black-eyed beans and guedj, the sun-dried, salted fish of the Senegalese coast. The flavour is deep and savoury, the texture creamy with bursts of bean and chewy flakes of fish. Salt cod or smoked fish are fair substitutes for guedj. Chef's tip: soak and taste the dried fish before you season, and add salt only at the end; over-salting is the most common mistake with mbakhal, since guedj and stock both carry plenty.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ditakh juice

When the round, brown-shelled ditakh fruit comes into the markets of Dakar and Casamance, juice sellers turn its bright green, fibrous pulp into one of Senegal's most refreshing drinks. Ditakh grows on a wild tree of the region and is famously rich in vitamin C; its juice is vivid green, tart and fruity, somewhere between green apple, lime and tamarind. The pulp clings to a fibrous stone, so it is soaked and rubbed off by hand, then strained and sweetened. Outside Senegal look for frozen ditakh pulp in African shops; there is no real substitute. A frequent slip is blending the stones with the pulp, which makes the juice bitter. Chef's tip: work the flesh with your fingers rather than a blender, because blending crushes the bitter fibres and stone into the juice.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ngalakh (millet in baobab-peanut cream)

Every Easter, Christian families in Dakar, Thiès and Ziguinchor make big pots of ngalakh and carry bowls of it to Muslim neighbours and friends, a gesture of sharing that many Senegalese treasure. Steamed millet pellets are folded into a thick, tangy cream of baobab pulp and peanut butter, scented with vanilla, orange flower water and nutmeg, and sometimes studded with raisins. It is served chilled, sweet and nutty with a citrus-like sourness from the baobab, and it keeps well for a couple of days. No dairy is used, so it is vegan. Chef's tip: use plain peanut butter with no added sugar or palm oil, and let the dessert rest in the fridge for a few hours, because the flavours only come together once the millet has drunk up some of the cream.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Majarisco

Its name blends 'majado' (mashed plantain) and 'marisco' (seafood), and along the coast of Piura and Tumbes, near the Ecuadorian border, it's what cevicherías and beach restaurants serve when you want something hot and filling. Mashed green plantain is folded into a sauce of garlic, onion, ají and seafood juices, with prawns, squid and mussels running through it, so every forkful is creamy, garlicky and briny. Serve it with lime and salsa criolla. Mussels must be alive: tap any open ones and discard those that don't close, and discard any that stay shut after cooking. Overcooking the seafood is the most frequent mistake; it goes in at the end, just until pink and opaque. Chef's tip: keep the mussel cooking liquid and use it to loosen the mash; it's pure seafood flavour.

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.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chuño phuti

Chuño are potatoes freeze-dried the ancient way on the Altiplano: left out on frosty nights, trampled to squeeze out the water and dried in the high sun, so they keep for years. In Puno and across the border in Bolivia, they are soaked, crumbled and fried with onion, then scrambled with egg and fresh cheese to make phuti, a hearty breakfast or supper eaten with a hot tea. The texture is dense and slightly chewy, and the flavour earthy and a little tangy. Chuño is sold dried in Andean shops; it must soak overnight (ideally 24 hours, with the water changed) and then be peeled, which adds time before you start. The mistake is not soaking or rinsing enough: under-soaked chuño smells strong and stays hard in the middle. Serve with a fresh tomato salsa or uchucuta. Fresh cheese is usually made with animal rennet, so use a vegetarian one if needed. Chef's tip: squeeze the soaked chuño hard between your palms before crumbling; the drier it is, the better it fries.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Arroz con pato

Chiclayo and the northern coast claim arroz con pato as their own, and family lunches and big Sunday gatherings there often centre on a deep pot of it: duck legs browned and simmered in dark beer and a purée of coriander and spinach, then rice cooked in the same green, duck-rich liquid with peas, red pepper and ají amarillo. The rice is moist and loose, the duck tender with crisp edges, and it is served with salsa criolla and, often, papa a la huancaína. The beer contains alcohol, and not all of it cooks off; for an alcohol-free pot use alcohol-free beer or the stock swap in the ingredients. A common mistake is skipping the browning, which leaves flabby skin and a pale, fatty rice; render the duck slowly first and pour off excess fat. Chef's tip: let the cooked rice rest under the lid off the heat for 10 minutes before fluffing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Pesque de quinua

Up on the Altiplano around Lake Titicaca, where quinoa grows at almost 4,000 metres, pesque is everyday food: quinoa cooked until it collapses, then beaten with milk, a knob of butter and crumbled fresh cheese until it looks like a loose, savoury risotto. Puno families eat it for a warming lunch or supper, often with a glass of milk poured over or a fried egg on top, and in the cold dry air it is exactly what the body wants. It is soft, nutty and mildly salty. The step people skip is rinsing the quinoa, and the natural saponins then leave a soapy, bitter edge; rub it under running water until the foam stops. Serve with a tomato salad or a spoon of uchucuta for some heat. Andean fresh cheese is usually set with animal rennet, so choose a vegetarian fresh cheese if needed. Chef's tip: cook the quinoa in a little more water than usual and leave it a few minutes longer than for a salad, so it turns creamy and the grains burst.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Shámbar

Mondays in Trujillo mean shámbar: market stalls and huariques across the city put out pots of this thick, smoky soup of cracked wheat, chickpeas, broad beans, peas and canary beans, cooked with smoked ham hock, pork ribs and pork skin, then stirred through with a fried paste of ají panca and garlic and a handful of mint. It is earthy, porky and rib-sticking, and each bowl gets a scoop of crunchy cancha just before eating. Soak the beans and the wheat overnight. People often cook everything together from the start, and the peas turn to mush before the chickpeas soften; cook the hardest pulses first. Chef's tip: toast the wheat in a dry pan before soaking it; it gives the soup a nutty depth the locals look for.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Inchicapi

From the riverside kitchens of Iquitos and the Peruvian Amazon comes inchicapi, a festive chicken soup traditionally made with a free-range hen for birthdays and fiestas. Raw peanuts and a little maize flour are ground and stirred into the broth, which turns it creamy, pale and nutty, and pieces of cassava, garlic, ají dulce and sacha culantro (a long, serrated, strongly flavoured coriander) finish it. It is served with rice, boiled plantain or cassava. If you can't find sacha culantro in Asian or Latin shops (sold as culantro or ngo gai), use a big handful of coriander. The pitfall is adding the peanut paste dry: it clumps and catches on the bottom, so loosen it with broth first and stir often. Chef's tip: use raw, not roasted, peanuts; they keep the soup pale and give it the right fresh, milky taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Choros a la chalaca

Named for the people of Callao, Lima's port, choros a la chalaca are what you order with friends at a seafront cevichería on a hot afternoon: steamed mussels, chilled, each on its half shell under a bright, wet salsa of red onion, tomato, Andean corn, rocoto and lime. Cool, sweet, briny and sharp, they are eaten with your fingers in two bites, often before a ceviche or a jalea. Here the mussels are fully steamed open first, so nothing is served raw. People often overcook them while waiting for the last stubborn shells, which leaves the rest rubbery; lift them out as soon as each one opens. Chef's tip: dress the salsa no more than 15 minutes ahead, and spoon a little of the juice onto every mussel; that juice is the whole point of the dish.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tiradito

Lima's Japanese-Peruvian cooks turned ceviche on its head with tiradito: instead of cubes soaked in lime, the fish is cut thin like sashimi, laid flat and dressed at the last minute, so it stays silky with only the surface turning white. The sauce here is the classic golden one, ají amarillo blended with lime, garlic and ginger, fruity and medium hot. It is served as a starter in cevicherías and upmarket Miraflores restaurants with boiled sweet potato and corn. Because the fish is eaten almost raw, this version uses sashimi-grade fish frozen at −20 °C for 24 hours first (allow for that), kept cold and eaten the moment it is dressed; it is not for pregnant women, young children or anyone with a weakened immune system. The mistake people make is dressing it ahead: after ten minutes the lime cooks it through and it turns chalky. Chef's tip: chill the plates in the freezer for 10 minutes before you lay out the fish; it keeps the slices firm while you work.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Huatia

After the potato harvest in May and June, families in Puno, Cusco and across the highlands build a huatia in the field: a little dome of dry earth clods heated with dried brush until the clods glow, then knocked down over freshly dug potatoes and oca so they bake slowly underground. Opened an hour later, the potatoes are smoky, floury and so soft their skins split, and the oca turns sweet and tangy. Everyone eats them with their hands, with salt, chilli sauce and fresh cheese. This recipe gives an oven method for home cooks: a lidded pot bedded with coarse salt and herbs, which traps heat and steam much like the earth. If you do try a real huatia outdoors, use a clear patch of ground away from anything that can catch fire and keep water nearby. Don't uncover the pot early to check: the steam escapes and the potatoes turn leathery. Fresh oca is sold in some markets as New Zealand yam; small sweet potatoes will do. Chef's tip: choose potatoes of a similar size so they all finish together, and serve with uchucuta.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Kapchi

Kapchi (sometimes spelled capchi) comes from the Quechua for something like 'dressed' or 'creamed', and around Cusco it turns up when the fresh broad beans are in season: green habas, potatoes and soft fresh cheese simmered with milk until the sauce turns thick and pale, with ají and a handful of huacatay. Market stalls in San Pedro sell it with rice, and families make it at Easter as a meatless dish. It is gentle and creamy with a herby, slightly minty finish, and the beans stay sweet and tender. The trap is boiling the sauce once the cheese is in; it splits into curds and goes watery, so keep it at a bare simmer. Serve with white rice or boiled potatoes and a spoon of uchucuta. The same recipe works with sliced mushrooms instead of beans, which Cusco cooks also do. Queso fresco is usually set with animal rennet, so pick a vegetarian fresh cheese if you need to. Chef's tip: peel the beans of their pale inner skins after blanching; it takes ten minutes and makes the dish far silkier.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 24 of 171 recipes

Show more recipes

Page 1 of 8