My dad often made clam chowder around the holidays as a special treat for Thanksgiving or Christmas, which elevated its status in my family. When Dad brought home clams, we always knew what that meant. I’m not exactly sure where or when he learned to make clam chowder, but he did pick up a lot of recipes while he was in the army. I like to imagine that some tough, tattooed cook taught it to him on the sly during mess hall duties.
This is a classic chowder, hearty and creamy, and serving it with crusty bread or oyster crackers makes it extra satisfying. All things being equal, though, I really like this over rice, too. You can also make the soup thicker and serve it with linguini like a clam sauce. Try it out!
In the tradition of Singapore or Hong Kong–style street noodle hawkers, India’s version of stir- fried noodles is easy, and it’s a straight-up banger. Our instant noodle of choice is the dried Maggi noodle, which is nearly as beloved in India as Maggi tomato sauce (aka ketchup). Simply cook the noodles in water with their seasoning packet, and in a separate pot cook up the vegetables with a bunch of spices and some soy sauce. Combine the contents of both pots to make a thick, salty noodle-y treat (you can thank me later, after you can’t eat another bite).
When summer corn is in season and you can’t think of enough ways to enjoy it, make this cold soup. It’s refreshing as a light lunch or the start to a warm-weather dinner of grilled meat or fish. Just remember not to season it until it’s fully chilled, because the temperature really affects what and how you taste. Salty-ass corn is no bueno.
Provoleta, or grilled provolone, is a popular appetizer in Argentina, typically eaten before a meal of grilled meats. Provoleta is also the name of the cheese used for the dish—it’s a low-moisture variety that is designed to be grilled. That being said, provoleta isn’t easy to find in the United States, so grab some run-of-the-mill provolone and cook it in a cast-iron skillet, either on a grill or on the stovetop.
Heck, you can even toss it in a hot oven to heat it up and make it a tad gooey.
I love chimichurri, an herby, vinegary sauce that pairs nicely with the saltiness of provolone, which is usually finished aging right in time for summer. I like to add Castelvetrano olives to my chimichurri for a bit of texture and because, well, I love olives. Feel free to skip them if you don’t feel the same way.
When people say they love a Caesar salad, what they’re saying they love is the creamy anchovy lemony dressing. Romaine, the typical green for this salad, is great, but has nothing going on flavorwise. Fennel, on the other hand, now, fennel has character—a slightly licorice-y flavor that’s crunchy at the bottom (the bulb) and herby up top (the fronds). This recipe uses both aspects of fennel, as well as swapping out the croutons (the second best part of a Caesar salad) for a delicious savory granola. More flavors; better crunch. The cheffiest thing about this recipe is also the easiest: the fennel oil. The bright pop of green from the oil is an impressive touch. Here I use the leftover tops and trimmings from the fennel to make the oil, but you can use any greens you have lying around—spinach, chives, basil, parsley. Whatever you use, make sure to cool it quickly, as that’s how you maintain the brightness of the color.
On days when I’m not in the mood for rice and beans, I make mofongo because, like white rice, it really goes with everything. Mofongo is basically fried and mashed green plantains that are shaped into a large ball (see Tip). And unlike tostones, which require double-frying, mofongo is fried just once, which makes it easier to prepare. Peel, fry, mash, and you’re done. Just make sure to not let the plantains sit for too long after frying, as they can get tough. Your best bet is to fry and mash immediately. If you still find the plantain is too tough to mash, add a little water or warm chicken broth to help soften it. If you want to turn this into an even heartier meal, top it with the meat of your choice and enjoy its rich, savory flavor with just the right hint of garlic.
Tofu haters often cite “blandness” as an excuse to steer clear of the plant-based protein. But its blandness is actually its biggest strength! It so wonderfully absorbs whatever sauce you add to it—like this utterly craveable Korean-inspired gochujang sauce. The sauce does the heavy lifting here; all you do is add some preprepped vegetables and a grain, and you’ll have a home-run dinner in minutes.
There are endless tasty ways to tackle cooking ribs, but as an indoor enthusiast, I appreciate the ease, predictability, and seasonless nature of this trusty low-and-slow oven to broiler method. The entire process is mostly hands-off and delivers flavor-blasted, fall-off-the-bone ribs every time. Please note that this foolproof barbecue sauce is made with mostly pantry staples and begs to be used on everything from these ribs to grilled chicken, meatloaf, and wings. To round out your rib party, I recommend serving them with Cauliflower-Potato Mash (page 220) or Caramelized Onion Potato Salad (page 230) and a big salad during the cooler months, or with Zucchini Cornbread Muffins (page 207) and “Summer Mess” (page 210) or Heirloom Tomato and Watermelon Salad (page 212) when summer strikes.
In Danish, this dessert is called rødgrød med fløde, literally “red porridge with cream,” though in this type of porridge, there are no grains—just peak-season berries (and sometimes rhubarb) gently simmered into a silky and tart fruit soup.
Fruit porridges are common across Scandinavia, from blueberry to rose hip, made with fruit harvested at the height of its season. A piece of advice about sugar: Start with less—you can always serve a little extra at the table for those who want more sweetness.
If you ever visit Denmark, be prepared: Danes delight in hearing foreigners trip over the famously tricky name of this dessert in Danish. It took me ages to master it myself, but now it rolls off my tongue as smooth as the cream that gets poured over each serving.
These beautiful pastries can be found in many Chinese bakeries, particularly throughout Hong Kong. We’ll use the same fluffy dough as that of the sausage-filled Czech klobásník (page 112), but instead of leaving it whole like a pig in a blanket, the hot dog–filled pastry is sliced and twisted to form the shape of a flower before being topped with sesame seeds and scallions. Once baked, the flowers are glazed with sugar syrup to give them a nice sheen.