My mother got this recipe from her friend Judy, a Korean woman who immigrated to Argentina before making her way to the States. Judy’s empanadas are like grown-up hot pockets, neatly packaged meals of tomato-y beef, melty cheese, hard-boiled egg, and a single olive tucked into each like in a dirty martini (which makes all the difference). Stored in the freezer, they feed the family happily throughout the holiday season.
Almond flour has been a pantry staple in Paris for as long as anyone can remember. It happens to be less expensive than it is here and, perhaps because of the turnover, usually quite fresh. In the States, it’s still seen primarily as an alternative to flour for people with gluten sensitivity or for the health conscious, who like it for its protein content. Almond flour provides texture and taste, and it keeps a cake moist, as almonds are naturally high in fat. It’s for this reason that I use less oil than in an all-flour yogurt cake. The downside is that almond flour cakes don’t rise quite as high. Made with equal portions of flour and almond flour, however, lets you capture the best of both worlds. This cake is light, tender and moist and lasts for days. Like the classic yogurt cake, it plays well with spices, extracts, liqueur, syrups and floral waters. Here I’ve added sliced almonds to the top, for crunch.
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.
This is my favorite cake of all time. I love it when we have to judge this round on The Great British Bake Off! The perfect lemon drizzle has a light and airy sponge and a sharp, zesty crunchy topping. My version has quite an intense lemony flavor, but other than that it’s a total classic and I don’t think you should mess with those classics. The only thing to remember is to pour over the drizzle while the cake is still warm.
If we all ate fika, I think the world would be a much better place. Fika is a Scandinavian ritual, like afternoon tea. Traditionally, a range of buns are served that you share with your neighbours, people you work with or friends (imaginary or otherwise). It’s such a great custom and even the mighty Volvo plant in Sweden stops for fika every day. What follows here are the recipes for three different flavour buns, all made from the same dough, but with different fillings (butters) and glazes. We recommend the Milky Way glaze with the cinnamon bun, the coffee glaze with the cardamom and orange bun and the orange glaze with the Nutella bun, but it’s totally up to you. We’ve given quantities for the butter and glaze recipes, but to be honest, you can adjust them depending on whether you want a subtle hint of flavour or a big mouthful, so don’t feel tied down to the measurements.
When I was growing up, we ate several dishes that I thought were really unusual and unique to my mother. Macaroni soup was one of them. Small pasta shapes swimming in chicken or veggie broth, flavored with shiitake mushrooms, peas, carrots and ham. Sometimes Spam was also in that bowl. To me, this didn’t feel like a distinctly Chinese dish, so I assumed it was just something my mum made when she was short on time. I continued to think it was a family recipe until a very recent trip to Hong Kong, where I saw it on the breakfast menu at McDonald’s and practically every other cafe and cha chaan teng menu. I was shocked. Only then did I realize it was actually known as “Hong Kong–style breakfast”; it dawned on me that I still had much to learn about my family culture.
At a cafe close to my hotel in Hong Kong, I ordered a variation of this dish—tomato soup brimming with macaroni pasta, topped with scrambled egg. My love for this dish was instant, inspiring a childlike wonder for a bowl full of textures and childhood memories, just with a little twist.
The first time I took a sip of our new Sunny Little Thing Citrus Wheat Ale I immediately thought about brunch. Sunny Little Thing is easy to drink, has a smooth mouthfeel and is citrusy and bright. It’s a perfect accompaniment to cut the rich, fatty flavors of the hollandaise and sunny side eggs and enhances the smoky flavors of the cold smoked trout. I used it as an ingredient in the hollandaise sauce in place of some of the lemon juice and the bright citrus notes really shine through.
Of all the savory breakfasts in my book Dining In, this one is definitely the heartiest and most time consuming. Even so, it’s still a basic one-skillet deal. It’s also the one dish I am most likely to eat for lunch or dinner, with or without eggs, because I find chickpeas simmered with dried chorizo and fresh tomatoes to be one of life’s greatest pleasures.
Like a hard cheese, cured yolks can quickly add savory depth and complexity to a wide range of foods—soups, salads, pastas, and even meats.
A highlight at the Adjarian Wine House is this open-faced cheese bread, with its bright yellow egg yolk at the centre, the most iconic dish from the Autonomous Republic of Adjara. Adjarian (or Adjaran) khachapuri is a favourite throughout Georgia, and involves participation from the diners who stir the egg into the hot cheese to finish its cooking. The edges of this khachapuri are quite thick. The diner breaks off a chunk by hand and dips it into the eggy cheese. I like the version where the dough edges are enriched with grated cheese before baking.