These Japanese burgers, known as hamba¯gu in Japanese, are such a comforting, nostalgic meal for me. My mother would make them with a red wine and ketchup sauce that was especially delicious, as it soaked into the short-grain rice. Because my kitchen has no ventilation—it’s awkwardly placed in the middle of the apartment, the farthest point from all the windows—I particularly appreciate making patties in the oven on a sheet pan. I can make a big quantity (ten!) without setting off the fire alarm. The ketchup sauce is the best part and gets made right on the hot sheet pan as you scrape up bits and pieces and mix everything together. If you’re not in the mood for cabbage, you can also serve the burgers and rice with a different vegetable, such as blanched broccoli, our Simplest Arugula Salad (page 274), or even some sliced cucumbers sprinkled with a little salt and vinegar.
In tropical Vietnam, cauliflower is a prized cool-weather crop that’s typically stir-fried, added to soup, or pickled. Home ovens are uncommon in Vietnam, so few people roast cauliflower. In my California kitchen, however, I coat cauliflower wedges in salty-sweet-spicy seasonings typically reserved for Cantonese-style char siu barbecue pork, and then high-heat roast them. The contours of the wedges caramelize here and there to develop a deep savoriness that evokes the prized edges and corners of char siu pork. Serve this cauliflower as a satisfying main dish or tuck it into bao and banh mi.
This is a playful twist on a classic recipe that pulls you back to childhood. I like cooking and pairing spicy, hearty dishes with Torpedo Extra IPA because the punch of the spice and sharp cheddar stand up to the hop forward, bitter notes of the beer.
When I was growing up, we ate several dishes that I thought were really unusual and unique to my mother. Macaroni soup was one of them. Small pasta shapes swimming in chicken or veggie broth, flavored with shiitake mushrooms, peas, carrots and ham. Sometimes Spam was also in that bowl. To me, this didn’t feel like a distinctly Chinese dish, so I assumed it was just something my mum made when she was short on time. I continued to think it was a family recipe until a very recent trip to Hong Kong, where I saw it on the breakfast menu at McDonald’s and practically every other cafe and cha chaan teng menu. I was shocked. Only then did I realize it was actually known as “Hong Kong–style breakfast”; it dawned on me that I still had much to learn about my family culture.
At a cafe close to my hotel in Hong Kong, I ordered a variation of this dish—tomato soup brimming with macaroni pasta, topped with scrambled egg. My love for this dish was instant, inspiring a childlike wonder for a bowl full of textures and childhood memories, just with a little twist.
No ordinary Joes.
Freezing tofu allows the moisture inside the tofu to expand, and thawing it ensures that those spaces remain expanded. This results in a texture that’s more spongy and amenable to marinade than tofu that is just pressed. Freezing-then-thawing firm or extra firm tofu, coating it, and frying it results in a chewy, dense texture not unlike a chicken nugget. Consider this recipe a basic formula, but feel free to experiment with different marinades and sauces.
There are many regional takes on barbecue in the United States, each with its own idea of the perfect sauce to complement barbecued meats. However, Kansas City-style sauces rule supreme when it comes to bottled sauces the supermarket; simply put, it is the style of sauce that most American think of when they think "barbecue sauce." But if you'd rather make your own Kansas City-style sauce at home, try this recipe from America's Test Kitchen. The folks at America's Test Kitchen says they like their barbecue sauce extra-thick. If you like a thinner, smoother texture, the sauce can be strained after it has finished cooking.
The usual go-to cut of pork for backyard barbecue is the pork shoulder, but in certain corners of South Carolina, many pitmasters swear by fresh ham. Fresh ham, cut from the hindquarters of the hog and sold unsmoked and unseasoned, is leaner than traditional barbecue cuts like shoulder. Rubbing salt over the entire surface and letting it sit overnight helped season it throughout and kept the meat moist. A double-pronged cooking approach did the trick: We smoked the meat on a grill for 2 hours before transferring it to a 300-degree oven to cook until it reached an internal temperature of 200 degrees. We then cranked the oven temperature up to 400 degrees and roasted the skin on a baking sheet until it was brown and crispy. This gave us plenty of crispy skin to mix in with the shredded ham. A vinegary mustard sauce, a hallmark of South Carolina barbecue, was just the contrast the sandwich needed. Plan ahead: The ham must be salted at least 18 hours before cooking. You’ll have about 2 1/2 cups of mustard sauce.
Omu raisu (rice omelet) is one of the most popular dishes in Japan, both at home and in restaurants. To Western ears it doesn't sound immediately compelling -- lightly fried rice laced with ketchup and covered with a sheet of runny eggs. It's slathered with more ketchup to finish, which is probably why I jumped on the bandwagon almost immediately and have never looked back. My childhood recollections don't include any warm and fuzzy comfort dishes, so when I feel down and out or just need some food love, this is the dish I invariably turn to.
We're big fans of chicken thighs because they're very tasty and easy to prepare, and they have just enough fat to stay moist on the grill. This is a deliciously sweet, sticky, old-school treatment most often used with wings, but we like it even better with thighs. These are not only great hot off the grill, but when they're cold, too, making them perfect for picnics.