Serves 2 to 4 as a side dish
Tejal Rao, critic at large for The New York Times, has fallen hard for luxuriously, long-cooked greens. Put away your predilection for bright green, still crisp, blanched vegetables, and give this recipe a shot.
Any green can be substituted for the broccoli rabe, from chard to collards to mustard greens. Be sure to double the recipe to have more of these greens in the fridge, ready to go the next day. You can stir them into hot pasta with lemon zest, pile them on thick toasted bread with a smear of ricotta, tuck a spoonful or two under a fried egg, add it to a rice bowl with some smoked sardines, or just have it on the side with some beans.
I have often said you can laab anything. And in “anything” I include bits of leftover meats and vegetables. Tart, spicy, and fresh, this treatment is guaranteed to “fix” any dry Thanksgiving turkey, or the ends of roast beef. I’ve even laab-ed roasted squash and cut-up pieces of omelet. Laab is usually served with sticky rice, but you can serve it with jasmine rice, wrap it in lettuce, or serve it with fresh cucumber. Note: I have provided a small base recipe here because it’s meant for using up bits and bobs in the fridge; scale up to whatever quantity of leftovers you have.
Of all the recipes in this book, this savory dish is the one I make the most often, not just because it’s delicious, but because it connects me to my past. Throughout childhood, my grandma would make me various versions of this soup, and as an adult, it brings me so much comfort to make it and share it with others. Expect a vegan, Mexican-inspired twist on a Chicken and Rice Soup with tofu swapped in for the chicken and with the addition of fresh lemon juice and cilantro. So delicious!
FOR THE SHORTCUT DAN DAN SAUCE (makes 2¼cups sauce, enough for 18 servings):
I first made this soup on a camp stove in my camper van during a six-month road trip, and then again and again and again as the nights grew colder, snowier, windier, darker. It starts with instant soup noodle mix—never leave home without it!—and then follows along the tradition of stracciatella, egg drop soup, hot and sour soup, and sopa de ajo, which are all cloudy with ribbons of egg. As the soup mix simmers, beat an egg in a soup bowl (the warm soup will cook any egg stuck to the bowl). Tear vegetables with your hands to save a knife and cutting board. Add the vegetables towards the end of the soup simmering, then stream in the egg. In a few seconds, what appears resembles clouds, or maybe rags (straccetti means “little rags”), or flowers (the direct translation of the Chinese name for egg drop soup is “egg flower soup”). In one pot, in a few minutes, on a stovetop or campfire, this soup is there for you: starch, vegetable, protein, warmth, comfort, and all.
Hot or cold, for breakfast, lunch, or dinner—things don’t get much more versatile than this fiber-filled frittata. Mix up the veggies to keep it seasonal and interesting for endless weekday options. It’s earned a regular spot on my menu.
We don’t often consider sweet potatoes to be a vegetable to eat raw. During our projects with Louisiana State University, we found several varieties we preferred uncooked, including Covington and Creamsicle. They are sweet, with a lower starch content and smooth cell structure. For inspiration, we looked to Southeast Asia, making the type of sweet, tangy, and umami-rich dressing you might find on a papaya salad. Serve this side dish alongside grilled fish or shrimp or rice noodles.
I love mixing textures of cooked and raw vegetables in salads. In this case, soft wilted spinach with shaved fennel and apple that add sweetness and crunch, while the pistachio butter adds nutty creaminess. I also throw a few crushed, deeply toasted fennel seeds in to add a bit more interest.
More than any other veggie dish in my repertoire, this is the one people request again and again. This recipe originally appeared in my mini-but-mighty Tahini cookbook in 2016, but once I moved to Israel, I made a few changes, like eliminating butter and swapping in olive oil, that reflect the way I cook here. If you can find multicolored carrots, great, and if you can find thinner farmers’ market– style ones, even better. If your carrots are on the larger side, cut them lengthwise so no piece is more than half an inch thick; this softens them up in preparation for their deliciously sweet, lemony tahini glaze. The recipe purposely makes a generous amount of dressing, because you’ll want to put it on everything, from cold noodles to fish and any roasted veggie under the sun. I recommend doubling or even tripling this recipe; the carrots shrink, but people’s appetite for them never does. If you do multiply, make sure to use more baking sheets so the carrots roast, not steam. The carrots are just as good, if not better, at room temperature, making them perfect sit-around buffet food.