I’ve had an earworm for the last few weeks. Ever since finding a record called “Apples, Peaches, Pumpkin Pie” by Jay & the Techniques, the title track has been playing in my head nearly constantly. It’s a great song—have a listen. This pie is not what the song is actually about, but I just couldn’t shake the idea of making it. In an uncanny confluence of new seasonal fruits and old musical discoveries, apples, peaches and pumpkins all happen to be in … Read More
There’s really nothing that parallels that burst of succulent kernels when sweet corn is in season, late summer. Just the noise of biting them straight off the cob—often uncontrollably fast—is a soundtrack to the season. Not to diminish the enjoyment of pure corn on the cob, maybe slicked with butter, but I’ve been slathering those juicy ears with a combo like this all summer: mayo mixed with some kind of spicy sauce. This one really hit the mark.
You don’t have to reinvent the wheel for a meal. Especially not in the summer, when it’s often hot and humid enough to make the stove a scary place. I seem to wind up with so many heads of lettuce in the summer, too—from my CSA or farmers markets or friends—that I have to play a version of pin the tail on the donkey with them that involves lettuce heads, not donkey tails.
This wonton filling is proudly—if improbably—fashioned after san bei ji or Three Cup Chicken. This is one of the ultimate dishes from Taiwan, and one I love enough to try to twist into different forms any day. It starts with a deeply satisfying blend of soy sauce, sesame oil and rice wine (the eponymous “three cups”), and it’s splashed with copious aromatics—garlic, ginger and basil. I wanted to get its zingy, herbal flavors inside a wonton for a refreshing filling based on … Read More
It may be the twilight hour for spring but I’m savoring as much fresh asparagus as I can get. You know those ethereally green, snappy twigs of juicy, crispy, woody goodness won’t be in season for much longer here in the Northeast. If you’ve been simply grilling them like I have been a lot these short pre-summer nights—or perhaps enjoying them raw in a lightly dressed salad—then you may be ready to coddle them with some eggs, cheese and buttery … Read More
Cooking is empowering. And it’s unique, in that this simple exercise provides you with one of the few daily necessities for survival—food. You can’t say that for going to the gym, or writing a brilliant essay, as empowering as those activities may be. It’s not always the case that whipping up a plate of dinner gives you a great sense of personal accomplishment. But when you cook something that surprises, impresses even yourself (and as a bonus, your friends or … Read More
I’m a big fan of two-ingredient “salads”—if you’ll allow me to call them that. What makes a salad a salad? It’s not uncommon to see a “tomato salad” with just tomato and dressing. So is the imperative on fresh vegetables? (Not so! What about chicken, egg or grain-based salads?) Does it need to be cold? (No! Warm or room-temperature salads are a typical Moroccan side, like with carrots, for instance.) To me, it seems the word “salad”—and especially if we look at … Read More
I’m convinced that big chunks of root vegetables are the perfect complement for rich, hearty winter stews—they absorb all their juices like savory sponges while adding to the complexity of the sauce. Even if nontraditional, they can make a stealthy starring role in such venerable cold-weather, long-cooked staples as cassoulet—with or without the addition of meat. Or wine-braised short ribs.
Who says you can’t put miso in chicken soup? Or chicken in miso soup? I get it—miso paste is a great plant-based source of protein and flavor. Chicken soup, made from flesh and bone, needs little help in those departments. But I couldn’t decide. When it comes to winter slurping satisfaction, both chicken soup and miso soup are such all-time comforts. If you like both those soups, too, they only get better when you combine them.
Growing up, pretty much any time I ate fish it was prepared in one of two ways: steamed whole, then drenched with julienned ginger, scallions and soy sauce. Or, pan-fried whole, then drenched with spicy, garlicky bean sauce. Later on, I would grow to love dipping fried fish sticks into ketchup and savoring every juicy bite of a Cajun-seasoned catfish fillet. But at the beginning, it was all about whole. Head, tail, cheeks, eyes, fins—the whole shebang.