Growing up, this is one of the things we often made for parties with other Japanese-Australian families and it was always a hit with everyone, especially with the children – we nicknamed this dish ‘yummy chicken’, which says it all really.
The key here is marinating the chicken in the sauce. Don’t be tempted to keep all the delicious marinade in the tray because it will just burn. Instead, drain off the marinade, cook it separately to reduce it, then use it as a glaze towards the end of cooking. You could use fish fillets here instead of the chicken, too. Sake is used for flavour and is a tenderiser, but if you don’t have it, you can use a splash of white wine instead. If you don’t have mirin handy, try a delicate honey instead, which is what my mother would have used.
If ever there was a weekend Shabbat cult food, jachnun—deep golden coils of buttery dough baked low and slow—fits the bill. As is the case with yeasty, brioche-like kubaneh bread, jachnun, which contains only baking powder, is traditionally placed in the oven or on a hot plate before Shabbat on Friday, then devoured the following morning after synagogue prayers. It’s sold in almost every makolet (mini-market) and from food trucks and carts all over the country, and in the neighborhood where I live (Tel Aviv’s Yemenite Quarter), tiny jachnun joints (usually open only on Friday and Saturday) sell it by the piece with its traditional accompaniments: resek (grated tomato), schug (hot sauce), and hard-cooked eggs.
My mother, Larisa, was born in Odessa, Ukraine, and has made borsch all her life. ’This is the hot winter version: vegetarian and super-quick to prepare but also hearty and filling, with a lovely sweet-sour flavor and gorgeous red beet color. It’s served garnished with fresh herbs and a dollop of sour cream.
When we decided to write this book, our first thought was, “You know what the world needs right now? Another take on vitello tonnato!” Just kidding—nobody needs another version of this classic Piedmontese dish. But because tomato season is so special and because Ryan’s and Steph’s moms really loved this version, in which savory beefsteak tomatoes play the part of thinly sliced veal, we just had to include it in here.
Cake
ACTIVE TIME: 1 HOUR — BAKE TIME: 35 MINUTES — TOTAL TIME: 1 HOUR 35 MINUTES — MAKES ONE 10-INCH PIE
One of the most iconic Vietnamese dishes is the French-inspired bánh mì: a fresh, crispy yet fluffy baguette filled with the most captivating flavours and textures.
I adore àkàrà. These sumptuous, deep-fried fritters are enjoyed across West Africa and the diaspora. A true triumph for the humble black-eyed pea, they are known as koose in Northern regions and acarajé by custodians of West African culture in Brazil. I remember joyous mornings feasting on the classic duo of steaming hot àkàrà and Nigerian “pap”—a creamy custard made with fermented corn. In my version, ginger and spring onions add a little warmth and bite to the fritters. Àkàrà is wonderful served plain, stuffed in a baguette (as you’ll find them in Dakar, Senegal), or stuffed with chunks of spiced prawns and peppers, as enjoyed in Salvador de Bahia, Brazil.
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!
The chefs at my culinary school in Guangzhou would often whip up this homestyle dish for our family lunches. Tossed on the stinging-hot sides of a wok, cabbage leaves wilt quickly and caramelize on the edges; this recipe makes them aromatic with dried red chiles and Sichuan peppercorns, and laces them in a savory, vinegar-tinged sauce. Use your wok or skillet over the highest flame, and you should still get a nice seared-in juiciness and aroma without an industrial burner. If you’re doubling the recipe, stir-fry it in two batches to avoid overcrowding the wok, which would steam rather than sear the cabbage. When prepping the cabbage, tear the leaves with your hands instead of using a knife for maximum raggedy edges—Chinese cooks swear it tastes better this way. The best cabbage for stir-frying is the flat-headed, looser Taiwanese cabbage, which has sweeter and more tender leaves.