Make Ahead

Cantonese deep-fried sticky rice dumplings can be filled many ways, but there is usually chopped rehydrated shiitake mushroom and a little chopped dried shrimp for savory oomph. With those two ingredients in this vegetable-laden alternative, you won’t miss the meat.

This malleable, snowy white dough is the foundation for many Cantonese dim sum favorites, such as Chiu Chow Dumplings (page 137) and Har Gow Shrimp Dumplings (page 135). Wheat starch dough is easy to manipulate; texturally, it is like Play-Doh. In fact, I’ve seen rabbit-shaped dumplings made from this type of dough. You can definitely sculpt it, though I mostly focus on making sure the filling is sealed up well. When cooked, this dough has a translucency that allows the filling colors to be visible in a beautiful, impressionistic way. Wheat starch on its own would make a dough that is too firm, so dim sum cooks commonly add elasticity by way of tapioca starch, though cornstarch and potato starch are options, too. The oil lends suppleness and richness. This dough can be prepared up to 6 hours in advance and kept at room temperature in the plastic bag. When forming wrappers from this dough, do your best to keep the cut dough and formed wrappers covered with plastic wrap to prevent drying. At Chinese markets, look for plastic bags of wheat starch near other starches and flours; Middle Eastern markets sometimes carry it, too. Tapioca starch is reasonably priced at Chinese and Southeast Asian markets but is also available at health food stores, specialty grocers, and some supermarkets.

One of the most common curry puff fillings features well-seasoned potatoes and a little meat. I like to use ground lamb because it pairs terrifically with the bold spice blend that Malay cooks often identify as meat curry powder. I’ve broken it down for you here, but feel free to substitute 2 1/4 teaspoons of your favorite curry powder (if salt is already in the powder, add salt to taste only after the filling is done). For a vegetarian rendition, omit the meat and increase the potato to 3/4 cup, adding extra water as needed during cooking.

The notion of canned sardines in pastry may seem distasteful, but millions of Southeast Asians consider karipap sardin to be delightful soul food. Any fishy intensity is mitigated by a simple combination of supporting ingredients, including ketchup, lime, and fresh chile. Chopped hard-cooked egg adds richness to this quintessential curry puff filling. For small cans of sardines (5 1/2 ounces, which is about the size of a regular can of tomato paste), head to a Chinese, Southeast Asian, or Latino market. Many Asian cooks prefer Ligo brand. Canned sardines sold at supermarkets come in larger portions, so just use part of the can. This filling is also good on toast.

When you buy stuffed buns in Asia, there is usually a vegetarian option that features vegetables and pressed tofu. The fragrant, tasty filling is delightful and satisfying enough to please meat lovers. While you can feature just one vegetable, such as a leafy green, I like to create a varied filling that’s full of surprising textures and flavors. It’s important to cut the vegetables and pressed tofu into small, thin pieces so that the cooked filling is easy to measure and wrap up in the dough.

Cantonese cooks have been creating curried bāo fillings for years, but for buns with both a Southeast Asian and an Indian edge, stuff them with this curried chicken filling that contains plenty of spice and a touch of coconut-milk richness. The ingredient list looks daunting only because of the number of spices, a combination that yields aromatic, flavorful results. If you have a good curry powder, such as Sun Brand, feel free to substitute 1 tablespoon for the spices below; decrease the amount of salt if the curry powder contains salt already. Or skip the toasting and grinding and substitute equal amounts of ground spices for the whole ones, using two pinches of black pepper for the peppercorns. The flavors will still be good.

Baked buns, called guk bau in Cantonese, are a wonderful southern Chinese creation. They can be filled with a whole host of things, including sweet bean pastes and savory preserved pork shreds. Some have a crumbly crust that’s akin to coffee cake topping. My favorite renditions are slightly shiny and sticky from having been brushed with a lightly sweet honey glaze. Whatever the filling inside, whether it is spicy chicken curry, roast pork, vegetables, or bean pastes, you can’t lose. Commercially produced Chinese baked buns are nearly cloying and super soft, whereas these have a delicate flavor and texture resembling that of challah.

Most people think of wontons as being fried and in soup broth, but they may also be served like Italian ravioli in a light coating of splendid sauce. Here, the sauce is nutty, spicy chile oil punctuated with fresh garlic and soy sauce. Feel free to dial the heat up or down by varying the amount of chile oil. The full amount is definitely not for the faint of heart. If you have semi refined, cold-pressed peanut oil on hand (the kind employed for making the chile oil on page 216), use it instead of the canola oil for an extra roasty dimension. These wontons make a terrific snack or an elegant, eye-opening starter. If you can, substitute the greens below with 1/4 cup thawed and well-squeezed shepherd’s purse, a mild vegetable that’s sold frozen at Chinese-American markets.

I’ve met few people who dislike fried wontons. They are irresistible: they fry up to a wonderful light crispness, staying true to their Cantonese name, which literally means “swallowing clouds.” Wrapping the filling in a thin skin is the secret to generating such an ethereal quality. Most commercial wonton skins are, sadly, on the thick side and turn a bit chewy after frying. For better results, look for Hong Kong–style thin wonton skins at an Asian market or, better yet, make your own at home. Fried wontons are most often enjoyed dipped in sweet and sour sauce, but they can also be served in a bowl covered by hot broth; the skins turn chewy and contribute a delightful richness to the soup.

One of my favorite sources for fresh wonton skins is a market-cum-noodle shop in Oakland’s Chinatown called Hop Yuen. A three-hour round-trip excursion to this shop is worth it to me because I can get pliant, thin skins that are made without coloring or other additives. Those are the benchmark for these homemade ones, which are just as nice, and they come together handily with just a few ingredients and a low-tech, hand-cranked pasta machine. The Chinese term for these wrappers is pí, which literally means skin, and they function as a light, supple casing that protects and contributes texture to a dumpling. You may have a source for excellent Chinese skins, but do try making them yourself. You can control the thickness and cut them to whatever size you like, and it is a fun project. The dough can be made in a food processor or by hand, and a pasta machine makes rolling out the dough an easy and quick job. Moderate-gluten flour, such as Gold Medal all-purpose, produces terrific results that are neither overly chewy nor too soft.

Whereas boiled dumplings have crinkly skins that are tender from having been immersed in hot water, and panfried dumplings have skins that are a combination of crisp bottom and chewy top, steamed dumplings are texturally in between—the skins are slightly chewy and soft. Gentle steam heat also protects the filling flavor and you taste it more, a bonus for delicate combination such as this one. Unlike many other Chinese dumpling fillings, this vegetarian filling is cooked first to allow the cornstarch to work its cohesive magic, binding the vegetables and pressed tofu together so that they are easier to control when you are assembling the dumplings. I like to use some of the liquid from soaking the mushrooms to season the filling with an earthy savor; if you do too, remember to strain the heady liquid through cheesecloth or paper towel to remove any bits of grit. For details on brown, meatlike pressed tofu, see page 17.

Stuffed eggplant, tomatoes, zucchini, and, in this case, onions typically make their appearance on the table for special occasions in traditional Greek homes. Vidalia onions, if you can find them, are a bit flatter and sweeter than yellow onions, and they are perfect for stuffing. Just slice a bit off the top and a tad off the bottom, and you’ve got the perfect “cup” for holding something delicious. Serve these with a plate of tomatoes or a green salad.

Apples and walnuts ripen at about the same time, and are often grown in the same region. Pair them with a crusty, rustic loaf of bread, some spices, milk, and eggs, and you’ve got a perfect dessert for a fall afternoon. Puddings and bread puddings are particularly easy to make in a slow cooker, and the results are nearly always perfect.

Most split pea soup recipes are ridiculously predictable. Some onion, a bit of carrot, maybe some cut-up spuds. A ham hock. Inevitably, split peas are the main attraction, usually cooked to a mushy consistency. But I was looking for texture and additional flavor, so I added some dried chanterelle mushrooms; half an onion, thinly sliced well browned; some chopped tomatoes; fresh celery leaves; carrots; and spinach. I considered adding liquid smoke because the ham hock was out. But as luck would have it, one of my wooden spoons caught on fire, so I let it burn, then put out the fire and stuck the charred spoon in the soup. If a winemaker can use charred oak to enhance flavors of her wine, then why can’t I use charred wood for that desired essence of smoke in my soup? (P.S. DO NOT try this at home! Using a smoked salt should achieve similar effects without the fire!)

“What’s the advantage to cooking artichokes in a slow cooker?” you might ask. The answer is that while the artichokes are cooking, you’ve bought yourself a big chunk of time to do other things while the chokes cook completely unattended. If you are like me, you may get no further than pulling the chokes out of the pot with tongs and sitting down to them with a nice serving of homemade garlic-tarragon mayo. But I’ve given a few other suggestions in case you get bored.

For most of us, the mention of lasagna conjures up mouthwatering images of rich tomato sauce layered with rich cheeses and thin noodles. But a type of lasagna can also be made using polenta rather than pasta. In this polenta lasagna, the old familiar formula appears, but the packaging (polenta instead of lasagna noodles) is new. I recommend making the tomato sauce a day ahead of time, and possibly having two slow cookers on hand so that you can pour the polenta quickly from one into the other.

My first introduction to Thai curries came while I assisted a friend in preparing a luncheon for Nancy Reagan at the Reagan Presidential Library in Simi Valley, California. What a surprise: the curry sauce was red! Although Thai curries have many ingredients in common with those of neighboring India, they tend to be tinged with a hint of sweetness from the combination of coconut milk and a traditional dash of sugar, and they are often colored red or green by the red or green chiles in them, rather than the more familiar yellow color of Indian curries. As with most Thai curries, serve this over rice.

In southern India, dal is traditionally served thin like a soup, then ladled over rice. But in northern India, where dal is traditionally scooped up with roti or served on rice, it is usually made thicker, almost the consistency of a porridge. I’ve suggested 4 to 5 cups of water so that you can make it thin like the southern Indians or thicker like a northern “stew.” In addition, you can vary the heat intensity in the finished dish by the number of serrano chiles you add. Keep in mind that one serrano will add heat to the whole dish.

My friends who live in the countryside were surprised one morning to wake up and see me climbing their walnut tree in my pajamas, swiping the rock-hard, unripe green orbs off the branches. Once I’d picked enough, I climbed down and confessed that I could barely sleep the night before in anticipation of collecting enough of them to make a batch of nocino, an Italian liqueur made from unripe walnuts. It took a while for them to figure out what I was talking about. When I returned a few months later with a tub of Vanilla Ice Cream (page 143) and drizzled inky-brown nocino over each scoop, no one questioned my early-morning motives. If you know someone with a walnut tree, give this liqueur a try. And be sure to give them a bottle as a thank you, so you’ll get invited back to gather more green walnuts the following year.

Figs have two seasons—the first figs appear in late summer and the second batch shows up around mid-autumn. If you miss the first one, not to worry—the second is usually more prolific and the figs are even tastier. Don’t be put off by fresh figs with skins that are split and syrupy; those are the ones that taste the best. For jam making, I like black Mission figs, which are the most common variety, but this recipe will work with others as well. Figs are high in natural sugar, which means that the jam cooks relatively quickly.