Easy

The now-familiar gnocchi (preceding recipe) have gotten all the attention, but these—if a bit less elegant—are quite wonderful, considerably easier to handle, and far swifter to prepare. They are ideal alongside dishes like Sour Beef Stew with Horseradish (page 379).

A big potato pie, one of my grandmother’s favorites. She made this in a big cast-iron skillet, usually without butter, but it is better this way and can usually be made a couple of hours before eating; it remains quite crisp. Serve to a crowd, along with a stew or roast.

About as far from the classic “American” mashed potatoes as you can get, these are equally rich (especially with the butter), but far more flavorful. They’re great with simple roasted meat or poultry but are not for the faint of heart.

Once not only a staple but a main course, this is one of those side dishes many people can’t get enough of. Serve with something light and lean, like plain broiled fish.

Amazing how minor touches in familiar dishes can make such a huge difference. Anyone who grew up eating baked potatoes with butter and sour cream will be pleased and surprised at how aromatic and delicate these are.

A very, very fast dish, because the squid must be cooked only briefly to prevent toughness. So make your side dishes first; rice is the natural choice, and it will keep perfectly well over low heat while you stir-fry. Thai basil is so unlike Italian basil that they might as well be different herbs; not only does the Thai variety look different, but it is infinitely mintier. If you’re using Italian basil, therefore, you might consider adding a small handful of mint leaves. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla). If your squid hasn’t already been cleaned, see page 98.

This should be hot, garlicky, and spicy, a dish you want to serve over rice or with crusty bread; once the shrimp juices have mingled with it, the sauce is irresistible. Although it’s a perfect weeknight dish, this also makes a great appetizer at a dinner party.

The combination of sauerkraut, juniper, and fruity wine is a divine one. You might as well use a German wine to be completely consistent. Best with pork, like Baeckoffe (page 399).

Chipotles are smoked jalapeños, and they’re available dried (soak them in warm water until soft before use) or in cans. When canned, they’re called chiles in adobo; adobo is a red sauce from Veracruz that’s perfect for this dish. Serve this spicy dish with plain white rice and lots of it.

I ate this by the Gulf of Mexico, in a place with pink and avocado-green walls, a mariachi, and an outside shower. It tasted just as good last winter in Connecticut. Serve this, if you like, with Cebollas Curtidas (page 615) or any other relish or salad. Rice is also good, as are French fries.

Along with Cochinita Pibil (page 351), this is among the best uses for the annatto-based Recado Rojo, one of the most beautiful and flavorful sauces in the world. Serve with loads of plain white rice.

Just because I identify a dish with a country doesn’t mean it’s made exclusively there, and chile-fried shrimp is practically universal. So calling this a Mexican dish is a little like calling grilled steak an American dish. But I like to make this with the relatively mild chiles used in Mexico, and I like to serve it with rice and beans, so there it is. This is best made with homemade Chili Powder (page 609), but if you prefer, use a chile powder dominated by ancho or New Mexican chiles, which have warmth but not high levels of heat. Arroz a la Mexicana (page 517) is a great side dish for this, along with a green salad.

The sweetness of coconut milk tames the heat of this quick stew somewhat, but it remains a dish for fans of fiery food. If you cut the number of chiles to one, however, that will change. In any case, you will want a fair amount of plain white rice with this one.

Tamarind is a large seed pod grown and used in the cuisine of almost every equatorial country. Its pulp is processed into a dark brown paste, which is used as you might tomato paste, concentrated stock, or, for that matter, ketchup—as a simple flavor enhancer that completely changes the nature of the sauce into which it is stirred. You can make your own paste (page 585) or buy the paste now sold in bottles at many Asian stores. (There is also a kind of instant tamarind powder, which is not very good.) The bottled paste is concentrated to increase its strength, so if you use homemade tamarind paste, double the quantity (or add to taste). As for this recipe, you can use the same process to make almost anything in a tamarind sauce, but shrimp, because it requires minimal cooking time, is by far the easiest. I like to brown the shrimp first for a little more flavor, but you could actually start this recipe with the second step and add the shrimp after the onion. The dish is best when quite sour and not—as happens at too many restaurants—a sticky combination of sweet and sour.

A quick little stir-fry, great for a weekday dinner, and especially good if you can get a chunk of country ham, like prosciutto, Serrano, or Smithfield. Great, too, with sautéed Chinese sausages (sold at every Chinese supermarket) in place of ham. With white rice, this makes a nice little meal.

This wrapped dish, best assembled at the table, is great fun, either as a starter or as part of your main meal, and as fitting for a weeknight as tacos. It has a wonderful combination of contrasting flavors and textures: the spicy filling is offset by the sweetness of hoisin sauce and the cool crunch of lettuce.

Though Chinese cabbages, like bok choy and Napa, have become more widely available here, I still prefer this dish with ordinary green cabbage; its crunch is unsurpassed. Serve this with Basic Long-Grain Rice or Fried Rice (page 506).

Because this dish has only two ingredients, finding the best shrimp is of utmost importance. In Hong Kong, where only live fish is considered fresh, live shrimp are common. Here you may find them at some fishmongers (especially in Chinese neighborhoods) and even in some Western supermarkets. The wine traditionally used for this dish in the south of China is Mei Kuei Lu Chiew and is quite strong and a little sweet; you can find it at many Chinese markets. Shopping hassles aside, this dish is worth trying. Serve it with an assortment of other Chinese dishes or as a starter.

The usefulness of miso is nearly unlimited, and it can convert the simplest of ingredients into an exotic dish, a secret of much of Japanese cooking. Here the fermented soybean paste is combined with scallops and a little seasoning, then allowed to sit for a while before being grilled or broiled. It’s a traditional dish, in some parts of Japan the home-cooking equivalent of slathering something with barbecue sauce before cooking. For ease of use and strict authenticity, the miso should be thinned—it’s too thick to use straight—with mirin, the sweet, golden-colored wine made from rice (and Japan’s most important sweetener before the introduction of white sugar). Mirin, too, comes in a naturally brewed form called hon-mirin; it’s preferable to aji-mirin, which may be boosted with corn syrup; check the label. But the amount of mirin is so small, and its flavor in this dish so subtle, that you can use a fruity, sweet white wine in its place or even honey. If you can, try this with Asparagus Salad with Soy-Mustard Dressing (page 190) or a plain salad. And a bit of short-grain rice, of course.

More than anywhere else, cooks in Portugal combine seafood and meat with abandon, and it usually works. This dish cries out for crusty bread. If you want a milder garlic flavor, add it along with the tomatoes so it cooks a little longer.