Since beef was expensive in Japan when I was growing up, it was a real treat when my grandmother, Hatsuko Ishikawa, invited us over for a meatloaf with amakara (salty and sweet) sauce, made with soy sauce, honey, and vinegar. She made hers in a round cast-iron skillet and always served it with potatoes, which were tossed in the pan (with the lid closed) to make them fluffy. This recipe is enhanced with a miso-infused shiitake mushroom sauce, my own wafu version of meatloaf.
When asked my favorite way to serve slicer tomatoes, I always reply, “with brown butter, black pepper, and salt.” There is something about the nuttiness of brown butter that takes peak-season tomatoes to a whole new level. Our favorite tomatoes to serve this way are classified as brown tomatoes, which tend to have a meatier, more robust, umami-forward taste than green, red, or orange types. A seed called Paul Robeson has been a favorite to plant since our first year, and when combined with a decadent drizzle of brown butter, it takes on a mystical, toasty flavor. To dress this dish up, apply nothing more than a few briny capers, delicate slivers of shaved sweet onion, a scattering of earthy chanterelle mushrooms, or petite leaves of fresh basil.
When Forbes asked me for tips on eating well, I immediately offered this recipe, which is a stew filled with vegetables and dal. My version of a one-pot vegetable dal—an easy weeknight meal—is a play on a traditional recipe to incorporate more vegetables and greens. This stew is packed with protein and fiber. I love adding stewed tomatoes for a pop of color on top, versus cooking them down in the recipe.
I will probably get a lot of flak for this recipe. ‘What?! You’ve taken us through this entire exercise and now you’re giving us a recipe that is not authentic?’ I know, I know, but I call it Gateway for a reason. As a nice entry-level weekday cassoulet, this is not bad. Try it, tweak it, double it for your friends, and then, when you are ready, go tackle the real thing!
I love cooking with coconut milk. It has the perfect consistency for making vegetable dishes filling and rich and can be either sweet or savory. It’s also good for our immune, cardiac, and digestive systems. This recipe uses coconut milk as a base for cooking collard greens, a popular leafy green in West Africa, the American South, and many other parts of the African diaspora. Add in the butternut squash and you have an elegant, unforgettable dish that just might change the way you think about vegan food forever.
My mom, Karen, tells me that this recipe was inspired by watching the ladies in her hometown cook at the Pierz Fun House, a social club used for weddings and other public functions. They would make these potatoes by the hundreds: halved russet potatoes, sandwiched with butter and onions and bay leaves, smashed back together, and baked in foil. When you unwrapped your potato, the onion would lie pallid in the middle, and the butter would pool in the foil.
Smartly, my mom pivoted to baking each potato half open-face, so that the onions crisped into dark toupees on top. She also scored the potato flesh deeply before baking, so that the butter knew where it was supposed to go: down the cracks to the bottom skin. After an hour or so in the oven, the skin bakes to a dark brown callus. When I was a kid, I’d capsize my potato boat so that the soft cubes of potato fell out and I could fold the shatteringly crisp bottom around a piece of meat, like a taco.
Of all the various vinaigrettes and dressings in this book, this is probably the one my husband, Joe, and I make the most. It’s Caesar-ish, thanks to garlic and anchovy, while lots of lemon juice makes it bright and bracing. Dijon gives it a bit of creaminess without actual cream or cheese, and it comes together in a mortar and pestle, which gives it a rustic, extra-homemade quality. We’re anchovy enthusiasts, and if I had a soapbox to stand on to profess my zeal for the tiny fish, I would. I know they’re not for everyone, but if you like the savory bite of Caesar dressing, you’ll absolutely love this.
Buckwheat is the most popular grain in Slavic cuisine. When a crisis hits any Slavic country, buckwheat is usually the first thing that disappears from grocery store shelves. That’s how much people rely on it in their diet. I was never crazy about buckwheat when I was a kid. But when mom made me this soup, everything changed. It has the most alluring deep flavor of buckwheat and mushrooms with the right balance of sweetness and earthiness. It’s just like being wrapped in a cozy blanket and taking an autumn walk in a forest. I love eating this soup piping hot with the darkest rye bread I can find.
Make the labneh: Line a medium sieve with muslin or finely woven cheesecloth and place atop a container large enough to catch any drips. Transfer the yogurt to the muslin and place the whole thing in the refrigerator overnight. The liquid that separates is whey and can be saved for another use, such as baking sourdough, adding to salad dressings, or fermenting. Store the labneh refrigerated in a sealed container for up to 10 days.