Tigania, from tigani, the word for “frying pan,” usually refers to a dish of quickly seared small pork cubes finished with wine that is one of Greece’s favorite carnivorous mezedes. But vegetarians and vegans are having their day in Athens, too, and despite the incredible wealth of traditional plant-based dishes that are part of Greek cuisine, there’s also a move toward redesigning the classics to appeal to a growing audience of vegetarians. This dish in so many ways represents the new Athens: Greek but international, too, culled from tradition but changed, a mix of well-known Greek ingredients like honey, with newcomers like soy sauce, which would have been an unthinkable, even unknowable, addition a generation ago.
One of my favorite things that I ate in Singapore was chile crab, a cultural icon. A sweet and tomatoey sauce, enriched with eggs and used to smother giant crabs. We also got a black pepper butter crab which was so buttery and peppery. We ended up combining the two crabs and it created the most delicious bite we could have imagined – peppery, spicy, and slightly sweet. I’ve encompassed that glorious bite into a burger. To make it more budget friendly I’ve opted for shrimp instead of crab, but feel free to switch out the shrimp for 8 oz / 225g lump crab meat, or even any cooked fish for an easy fish patty.
Juicy chicken skewers—marinated in aromatic spices and coconut milk, then grilled for a smoky char—are a street-food favorite you can enjoy in your own backyard. Served with velvety peanut sauce, each bite blends sweet and salty flavors with a hint of heat. For vegetarians, double the mushrooms and skewer them separately.
Classic Cuban picadillo—ground meat flavored with sweet raisins, savory tomatoes, salty olives, and fragrant cinnamon—is the ultimate comfort food. Here, I’ve turned those same flavors into an easy-to-make warm dip that uses black beans in place of the meat (with a hint of soy sauce to add some umami). The result can be eaten warm or cold with tortilla chips.
Since beef was expensive in Japan when I was growing up, it was a real treat when my grandmother, Hatsuko Ishikawa, invited us over for a meatloaf with amakara (salty and sweet) sauce, made with soy sauce, honey, and vinegar. She made hers in a round cast-iron skillet and always served it with potatoes, which were tossed in the pan (with the lid closed) to make them fluffy. This recipe is enhanced with a miso-infused shiitake mushroom sauce, my own wafu version of meatloaf.
Rice is the headlining ingredient in this herb-forward “salad,” but it wouldn’t be khaao yam without the inclusion of earthy toasted coconut. The dish is a beloved breakfast on Ko Yao Noi and beyond, sold from vast bowls at Muslim-run tea shops.
This version, taught to me by Bussaba Butdee, who runs a homestay on Ko Yao Noi, includes the rather decadent addition of grilled shrimp, which she happened to have on hand. These are not standard and can be omitted. Less optional for southern Thais is the herb called bai phaa hom. Known colloquially as—no, I’m not making this up—“dog and pig fart herb,” the leaf provides the dish with a unique, but not as unpleasant as the name might suggest, aroma. It’s unlikely you’ll be able to find bai phaa hom outside southern Thailand, and khaao yam made without it will still be tasty, but it, admittedly, won’t have the same unique fragrance.
Serve this as a southern Thai–style breakfast or as lunch.
Bún cha’ hails from North Vietnam, where the cuisine is much more understated and subtle compared to the boldness and spice of its southern counterpart. I’ve never been up north, but my cousin’s uncle lived there and treated us to bún ch’a when he came to visit. It’s fresh, savory, sweet, and herby all at the same time. Traditional bún ch’a features rice vermicelli noodles served with a vegetal broth, seasoned pork patties, and caramelized pork belly slices. My version presents you with several dining options. You can either dip the noodles in the sauce mixture, pour the sauce all over the noodles, or enjoy it as a lettuce wrap. When you choose the lettuce to use, you can use anything but iceberg—it’s too watery! I recommend seeking out Persian (mini) cucumbers because they’re seedless and add an extra crispy texture to the experience. The pork patties are best when they’re grilled, but if you don’t have easy access to a grill, you can pan-sear them instead.
We wanted to step back for a second and think about the transformation of tteokbokki over the past decade. While so much of Korean cooking got spicier and more extreme, the classic, all-day utility dish made of rice cakes, fish cakes, and fiery gochujang went . . . pink. Enter rose tteokbokki, a gentle, creamy version that has grown in popularity in Korea. Begin with frozen rice cakes. They’re better for this dish than fresh ones, which tend to break down easily and lose their shape. The key to adding flavor to the rice cakes is to simmer them gently in a light bath of salt and sugar in advance. Deuki spotted this technique at a market in Seoul and hasn’t looked back.
Another twist here is the addition of apple preserves or syrup. Layering in subtle sweetness is a good way to counter the heat of the chile paste. Some home cooks like to add ketchup, but the preference here is for apple, a more natural form of sweetness. The final step is the addition of cream, which gives the dish its namesake hue. Use as much or as little as you want, or skip the step fully if fire-engine red is your favorite shade for sautéed rice cakes
In the debate over rice or noodles, I choose noodles. Dishes like this remind me why. Noodles come in so many shapes and sizes and textures. The type of noodle can make one dish feel entirely different from another one. A big favorite is udon, a thick, extra-chewy noodle. The first time I had udon was in Japan, and it was in a noodle soup that was perfectly rich and salty. I ate it so fast. My friend the cookbook author Hetty McKinnon had a similar experience in Tokyo, and this is her ode to that life- changing udon. No exaggeration: this is one of my favorite noodle dishes I have ever cooked, and I think it might be your new favorite dinner, too.
This adaptation of a classic CHamoru marinade has become my go-to for grilling chicken and pork. It comes together quickly and packs a punch; soy sauce and lemon deeply penetrate the meat, which is then infused with abundant garlic and ginger. Start your marinade the morning of your cookout instead of the night before, as this soy-heavy marinade is potent. Once you begin cooking, baste the chicken with the remaining marinade several times to glaze and char, being sure to let the marinade cook before taking the meat off the grill.