These smashed potatoes are inspired by my favorite stir-fried mala potatoes I get from the Sichuan restaurant near my house. Their version is crinkle-cut, but the seasoning here is the same and the shape is just as playful. Mala refers to a blend of primarily Sichuan peppercorns and spicy chilis, and lends its name to that buzzing, almost tingly sensation you get from eating Sichuan food. This spice mix also includes cumin seeds and white pepper to round out the heat with a little earthiness, turning these smashed potatoes into tingly taters.
I’ve made versions of these crispy, delicate little fried cabbage pancakes at restaurants and in my very own home, where they are a breakfast staple. I’ve often watched my mom bulk them up with canned salmon and loads of the week’s forgotten vegetables. We’d eat them over bowls of hot grits or rice. To me, they are reminiscent of okonomiyaki (loosely translated as “grilled as you like it”), a popular savory pancake from southern Japan. I like to drizzle Spicy Sorghum-Miso Mustard (page 110) over them.
I’m certain there are plenty of small, cute beach shacks on France’s southeastern coast where you can get mussels and fries and drink rosé and pastis with your friends or your lover or alone. But my favorite small, cute beach shack is tucked directly into the seawall (?!) about 20 minutes south of Marseille’s city center, and they toss their mussels in aïoli. Do that here, and add fries.
The Sanskrit kanji refers to the thick, starchy water that’s left behind when rice is cooked for a while; it is also the origin for congee, which is also eaten in other parts of Asia where rice is a staple. While this is the dish my mother always served me when I was unwell (she cooked it with bits of chicken), I’ve given it a bit of a makeover and brought in a few spices.
This hot and fiery soup is seen only in the Indo-Chinese restaurants of India. When the weather is cold or I’m feeling unwell, I often make this soup. To boost the protein, you can add bits of leftover rotisserie chicken or tofu. Serve this with rice wine vinegar, Chilli-Soy Vinegar Sauce, or Indo-Sichuan Sauce on the side.
Toum, the fluffy, garlicky, tangy condiment, originated in Lebanon but is found throughout the Middle East. It is the mandatory condiment for chicken shawarma. Accept no substitutions. Usually, toum means you need to spend loads of time peeling and degerming garlic, juicing lemons, and lugging your food processor onto the counter. This method sacrifices some of the fluffiness for ease. Using an immersion blender to create the emulsion, you can skip the delicate drizzling of oil and blend your way to toum town in a matter of seconds.
Soleil thinks of this oil as an elemental building block kind of seasoning. Think about drizzling it on sticky rice or rice noodles. It’s fantastic on grilled sweet corn, any grilled protein, or vegetable. And in the tradition of Soleil’s family, brush it on a freshly grilled baguette and eat it grill side while watching what’s cooking on the fire!
Chelo means “plain steamed rice” in Farsi, whereas polos are rice dishes with other ingredients folded in, like pilafs—I included a few variations of these.
If there’s one piece of equipment you’ll see in every Persian household, it’s a nonstick pot. Although I almost never use nonstick cookware, for this recipe, it’s essential. It makes life easy when you want to serve the rice on a platter, or flip and invert it for easy release. Trust me and pay the money to invest in that peace of mind.
I made this at ACME restaurant and it turned out to be so popular that we ended up with too many wilting lettuce leaves left over. So I started using the lettuce to make Wilted Romaine Cream Sauce (below) to go with the bottoms. Recipe serves four; add additional bottoms for more servings.