Those who know me know I’m an unabashed fan of stuffed-crust pizza. In fact, I included a recipe for one in my second cookbook. But as I get wiser with age and experience, I have started to think of things like, “Why just stuff the crust when you can stuff the whole thing?”
Held together with two layers of cheese, the prosciutto in this recipe tucks nicely into a pillowy focaccia dough. On top, wild ramps soften and char in the heat of the oven, creating a lovely, sweet onion flavor. If you can’t find ramps, feel free to use young garlic, spring onions, or your favorite pizza toppings. This focaccia is best served the day it’s baked.
This is the kind of food that I enjoy making with family and friends who love to cook. I set out small stations for filling and rolling the cabbage rolls and then cook them together in a large pot. And when I need to do this by myself, it is still one of the most relaxing ways to pull my attention away from the everyday hustle and bustle of life.
If you end up with extra filling for whatever reason (maybe you got tired of making the rolls; I’ve been there and done that), then make the cigar-shaped logs and bread them using the same technique and breading mix used for the Golden Za’atar Onion Rings and present them as vegetarian croquettes to your dinner guests.
I’ve never been a bread pudding person, but I think it’s because the versions I’d tried in the past were almost always very, very heavy. But the concept of custardy baked bread appeals to me on so many levels that I knew it was just a matter of coming up with a lighter and brighter version. The lightness here comes from beaten egg whites that are folded into the bread and custard mixture, giving it a souffléed texture, while the brightness is from lemons—lemon curd, more specifically, which is used also as a sauce for the finished bread pudding. It’s so different from the typical dense, cloying bread puddings I’ve had that it almost feels like a different dessert. Mission accomplished.
Starting out, I was always so scared to try out a Yule Log recipe – they always look so intimidating! But I encourage you to give it a go. Even if it ends up looking like a mess, it’ll still taste delicious! I tried something a little different with this Yule Log and added a line of frozen chocolate cremeux. It’s totally optional but it really elevates the dessert and helps you advance your skills.
This recipe is so light, not overly sweet or heavy. It’s a real showstopper for the Christmas table – the ultimate festive dessert.
Kimchi is deeply ingrained in Korean cooking and usually appears in a few different guises. I love the deep red colour that this pancake takes on from the kimchi and its liquid.
The combination of textures from the crispy outside and soft, gooey inside adds dimension and interest to any meal. You can make a few smaller, individual pancakes or two or three larger ones as you wish, depending on how much batter you add to the pan at a time.
Detroit’s Breakfast House & Grill (now the Hudson Café) was where I first experienced the textural contrast of pillowy waffle and crunchy fried chicken skin, and the sweet-and-salty harmony of juicy dark meat chicken and a slick of maple syrup. The pairing was so satisfying that I fell into a ritual of having it delivered every Sunday morning after a late night out. It wasn’t until many years later that I thought to try this dish in my own style using Hong Kong egg waffles (aka eggettes) and karaage (small bites of Japanese fried chicken). The combination— enhanced with the use of Szechuan peppercorns in the maple syrup and splashes of chili oil—became so popular that I was constantly encouraged to enter local fried chicken and waffle competitions (I never could bring myself to; I don’t really enjoy competitive cooking). I particularly like tearing up the waffle into little individual pieces, then taking a fork and stabbing into one of those pieces, then stabbing a piece of chicken, then stabbing another piece of waffle. You now have a tiny and perfect fried chicken and waffle sandwich that you can eat plain or dunk into a ramekin of warm Szechuan-spiced maple syrup. The waffles are best made in a Hong Kong–style waffle/eggette maker, which they sell online in varying levels of quality. I understand it’s a very specialized thing and of course you’re free to use whatever waffle maker you already have, but the experience won’t be quite the same without one. I’ve heard you can try to sub vanilla pudding mix for custard powder, but I’ve never tried it myself.
In many cultures, the crispy rice that sticks to the bottom of the pot is considered a delicacy. In this recipe, the rice is shaped into patties and fried until the outside is crispy while the inside is still moist, almost gooey. The pickling liquid for the onion is refreshing and aromatic, with mint, spicy chili paste, and the tang of rice wine vinegar. The flavorings in this salad are Asian-inspired, based on some of my favorite rice bowl toppings: fish sauce and soy for umami, spicy ginger, and crunchy peanuts. You can also top the rice fritters with other fresh herbs, garnishes, or sauces for different flavor profiles. If you don’t have Carolina Gold rice (the heirloom grain, not the parboiled rice brand; see p. 156 for more info), substitute any short- or medium-grain rice—their higher starch content will help bind the patties together. Using chilled rice makes it easier to shape the patties.
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.
I love this incredibly moist pistachio cake made with a few ingredients—just pistachios, eggs, and sugar, plus some almond extract and a pinch of salt. Dorie Greenspan has a Simple Almond Cake in her cookbook, Baking Chez Moi, that my aunt has been making for years, and every time I eat it with her, I say I am going to re-create it with pistachios. I am so glad I finally did, because it’s even better than I imagined! I made my own pistachio flour by toasting the raw nuts and throwing them into a food processor. Surprisingly, almond extract really brings out the flavor of the pistachios here.
Serves 3 or 4