This is the ultimate one-pot meal that feeds many and comforts all. By far, my favorite traditional main course. Essentially a soup made with meat (a combination of beef and pork) or seafood and root vegetables, the dish varies from home to home and town to town.
A whole book could be written about this dish, since it has been adapted and appropriated by many countries across Latin America and the Caribbean. Hence, sancocho recipes are personal, unscripted, often use locally available ingredients , and can be watered down if unexpected mouths show up.
Serving and eating sancocho is particularly personal. I go with how it was always served at my mother’s home: Once the soup is ready, the roots, corn, and meats are taken out of the broth and divided onto large platters. The broth is then strained, skimmed, and reheated to be served on the side along with lime wedges, avocado slices, white rice, and ají.
Each person gets a plate and a bowl, and they assemble their own sancocho as they wish. Some cut the roots and meats up to add back into the broth, while others eat it separately and sip the broth between bites. Whichever way you choose is fine.
Regardless, there is a lot of silverware involved.
I’m a believer in low-key meals that still feel glorious and indulgent, and here each bite of cod feels more luxurious than the last, but the work is minimal. When you want to celebrate the smallest of achievements, like learning to change a tire or finishing a book, this is the meal, boos. I don’t know anyone with a pulse who doesn’t love garlic butter—a golden ticket to a surere flavorful meal. This is a great recipe to have in your back pocket if you’re hosting a small dinner party and want to save your energy for playing host. And while you wait, pour yourself a glass of wine, make a cocktail, or just kick it.
My mom had a beautiful relationship with her in-laws. That she was neither Mexican nor Catholic was never a problem. She won them over. She told me she would sit down to a conversation about calculus with my grandfather, who also had an amazing mind, and he’d leave her behind in three sentences. Mom learned to cook Mexican food from my grandmother, who was a really good cook.
We like to make a big batch of these noodles for a night of staying in, eating noodles, and binge-watching whole TV series. These aren’t your standard takeout sesame peanut noodles. First off, there’s no peanut butter—instead, deep and distinctively nutty sesame paste and chili oil contribute the bulk of the texture and flavor. A hint of Chinese black vinegar, with its malty, slightly sweet bite, cuts the richness of the sesame paste and plays off the heat of the chili oil. Balanced and complex, these noodles hit all the right flavor notes.
Pernil is a Latin dish of tender, super-flavorful slow-roasted pork with the ultimate crispy skin
This main looks deceptively meaty on the plate, and it satisfies on the same level. Tandoori spice mixture has an intense spicy flavor that meets its match with rich, unctuous portobello mushrooms. The cool cilantro sauce offers a creamy counterpoint and is entirely sunflower-seed based.