These savoury fritters, rich in plant-based protein and packed with veggies, were born out of a burning desire to get more legumes into our kids’ diets. Coat with breadcrumbs to get them across the line and you will be making these for years to come! Serve them hot or cold, solo, dunked in a dip or tucked into a wrap. They remind us of yummy cafe corn fritters and are a hit with the whole family every time.
“Jerk” refers to both the seasoning, and the style of cooking over pimento wood. Pimento is unique to the region, and Jamaica remains the largest producer, which is why it has become so deeply tied to the island’s culinary identity. The global popularity of jerk cooking has led to the excessive harvesting of pimento wood, significantly reducing its availability.
Sofrito: This aromatic mixture is the heart of many traditional Puerto Rican dishes. Use as a base for rice, beans, stews, or marinades to add authentic Puerto Rican flavor.
Green seasoning is one of the most important building blocks in Caribbean cooking. Almost every island has its own version, and it is the first layer of flavor in countless dishes. At its heart, it is a blend of fresh herbs, garlic, onions, peppers, and citrus, pounded or blended into a paste. Some cooks lean heavily on culantro (chadon beni), while others use more parsley or thyme, and the balance of heat depends on what peppers are at hand. Green seasoning is more than just a marinade—it’s memory and instinct in a bottle. You season your chicken with it before it ever touches a pot, rub it into fish before frying, stir it into stews, or even fold a spoonful into rice for depth. Every cook has a jar tucked into the fridge, and every family swears by their version. To understand Caribbean food culture is to understand that seasoning begins here.
This giant crumbly cookie is a specialty of Mantua, in Lombardy. But I first tasted it at a cooking class at the home of a chef from Parma, in Emilia-Romagna, where it is also popular. This makes sense, as Parma is just about an hour south of Mantua, and popular cookies tend to travel beyond their place of origin.
Also known as torta sbrisolona, the name of this cookie roughly translates to “crumbly cake.” It comes from the verb sbricolare, which means “to crumble.” The cookie was once upon a time prepared by farmers using simple ingredients that they were likely to have on hand—flour, cornmeal, sugar, a little lard or butter, and almonds. It was eaten as a snack to revive them after a long morning of work.
When assembling your sbrisolona, resist patting the sandy dough into the pan too firmly. It needs to be loosely packed in order to yield that fall-apart texture that makes it so irresistible. Once baked, it is customary to break this cookie into irregular pieces for serving, though you can cut it with a knife for a neater presentation.
Adis is a traditional lentil stew made with just a few simple ingredients: lentils, onions, tomatoes, and spices. My mom used to prepare it for me when we lived in Brussels. (I was often anemic, and this dish has always been one of my favorite iron-rich meals.) Sometimes she would enhance it with some khlii (see Preserved Beef, page 73), or add leafy greens and carrots for a nutritional boost. In this version, I’ve opted for sun-dried tomatoes for their sweet, intense flavor and kale for its earthy notes as well as its nutritional value. The vinegary red onion topping is optional, but it brings an appealing sweet-tart punch to the dish. I usually serve this comforting stew with crusty bread, but rice and quinoa are also good options.
I have learned the hard way, again and again, to always get insurance. That’s where the dusting of Microplaned cheese comes into play on these crispy smashed potatoes. Because the truth is, there’s plenty you can do to maximize crispy edges and tender centers. The baking soda in the cooking water, the rough toss with cooking fat before the high heat roast, and the temperature all contribute texture. But every now and again, you’ll come across a bag of potatoes that refuses to turn golden and crunchy.
Here is a light and fresh interpretation of jerk. Salmon is marinated with robust seasonings and pan-seared to perfection. The zesty herb salsa combines the freshness of cilantro, the heat of Scotch bonnet, and the tang of lime. If you’re not feeling herby, try the Mango Salsa (page 217) with this salmon instead. This recipe is perfect for everyday dinners and special occasions alike and embodies the bold, dynamic spirit of Jamaican cuisine. Enjoy it with a squeeze of lime to bring all the flavors together.
When I think of the foods that truly symbolize growing up on Long Island, one of them has to be the humble corn muffin. Bagel shop (or, as we call it, “bagel place”) and deli culture is something we Long Islanders take very seriously. Both establishments require great bagels, buttered kaiser rolls, bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwiches, thin chicken cutlets, massive slabs of crumb cake, overly sweetened iced tea lemonades (we call them half and halfs), and cakey corn muffins. No matter what you’re ordering, you always ask for the side-car corn muffin, which is cut in half, buttered, and toasted on the griddle. You’ll be handed a grease-stained brown paper bag with a massive, yellow corn muffin inside, with a quarter pound of softened margarine plopped in the center. The muffin is somehow moist yet dry. And most of the time only half of it ends up in your mouth because it shatters into a million bits on your lap. (I still think my parents are cleaning crumbs out of their cars from decades ago LOL.) Despite the mess, they are a sweet and savory staple and something I will forever crave. When creating this recipe, I wanted all the flavors of corn muffins past—but with a slightly less crumbly texture for an even more enjoyable eating experience.
An Italian contorno that combines two of our favorite things: perfectly prepared beans and cooked greens. A cima puree, essentially more blanched greens blended with olive oil until silky, holds everything together while staying on brand. The combination tastes creamy, vital, and very Italian.
It’s important to use home-cooked chickpeas and heavily blanched cavolo so the cooking liquor from both can be added as needed when you bring everything together.
One of my favorite things that I ate in Singapore was chile crab, a cultural icon. A sweet and tomatoey sauce, enriched with eggs and used to smother giant crabs. We also got a black pepper butter crab which was so buttery and peppery. We ended up combining the two crabs and it created the most delicious bite we could have imagined – peppery, spicy, and slightly sweet. I’ve encompassed that glorious bite into a burger. To make it more budget friendly I’ve opted for shrimp instead of crab, but feel free to switch out the shrimp for 8 oz / 225g lump crab meat, or even any cooked fish for an easy fish patty.
You’ll find these juicy, sticky, charred wings at Singapore’s hawker centers (or food courts), where there’s usually at least one vendor flipping them over a charcoal grill. The chicken wings are marinated in dark soy sauce, oyster sauce, and garlic, then served with a spicy dipping sauce made of chiles and lime.