Simmer

This soup is perfect for a chilly autumn night, when you just want to wrap yourself in a warm blanket and watch television. It is as easy as cutting up the vegetables and waiting for them to cook. And the best part is, because the vegetables get puréed in the end, it doesn’t matter how big or small or funny shaped they are. But do be careful not to put too much in the blender at a time, unless you’re trying to redecorate your kitchen.

No one can deny the comfort food factor associated with a steaming hot pot pie with its crispy crust and delicious sauce. Even if your mom never actually made one for you from scratch, at least she probably bought you frozen ones on occasion. Our version is made with lots of vegetables, and it’s a treat for meat eaters and vegetarians alike.

This is one of my favorite salads in the whole book, despite what anyone says about the color. Soba noodles, which are made from buckwheat, are a kind of gray-brown color, so everyone thinks the salad looks a little bizarre or even unappetizing—until they try it and realize that it’s a delicious twist on pasta salad. The lime juice and fresh veggies make it refreshing and light.

It can be expensive to buy sushi, but it’s pretty cheap to make at home. And it’s nice because then you can use whatever vegetables you like, rather than settling for the standard vegetables that are in most rolls. You can use what we’ve listed here, or pick something completely different. It’s up to you. Nori (seaweed sheets), rice vinegar, sushi rice, and wasabi paste are the special ingredients to seek out for this dish. They may all be available in your supermarket or natural foods store, or (definitely) in an Asian food store. Bamboo sushi mats are cheap and handy to have if you are going to make maki sushi regularly; they can be found in most kitchenware stores these days.

Okay, I like tabouleh, but obviously not as much as the people in a town in the Metn district of Lebanon. They are listed in the Guinness World Records for making the world’s largest bowl of tabouleh. It weighed in at a hefty 1,514 kilograms. That’s 3,338 pounds of tabouleh. Where do you suppose they got a bowl that big?

So, I know pasta and winter squash sounds like a strange combination, but I promise it’s really good. Not only that, but all the colors make this a beautiful dish as well. The easiest way to peel the squash is to cut it into quarters first, then scrape out the seeds and cut off the peel. Because they’re so hard, if I do it any other way I’m afraid my knife will slip and I’ll cut myself

Soup is great because you can make a lot when you have time and freeze it in smaller portions so that you always have a quick home-cooked meal on hand. You can even take the frozen soup with you if you have access to a microwave to reheat it. Plus, it is chock-full of vegetables and pretty low in calories.

Quin-what?! Okay, so maybe you haven’t ever heard of quinoa (pronounced “KEEN-wa”), but this “wonder grain” (actually a seed) is deliciously nutty and chewy and exceptionally nutritious. This salad makes a great meal, and you can take any leftovers for lunch. What I like the best is that it’s a nice alternative to the standard pasta salad.

We use dried herbs as much as possible because it’s easier to have them on hand and they’re cheaper. But this is one of the cases where dried herbs just won’t work. Not that the other ingredients in this salad aren’t good, but the fresh tarragon, which has a light licorice flavor, makes this dish what it is. Don’t even bother making it with dried tarragon.

I love all pesto, but when it’s homemade you absolutely can’t beat it. It’s so fresh and delicious that you really don’t need to mess with it. This pasta is fabulous hot, but—bonus—it’s also great cold. So you can have it for dinner one night and then take the leftovers for lunch the next day.

Who doesn’t like lentil soup? This soup is as easy as cutting up a few vegetables and putting them in the pot. The hard part—if you’re hungry—is waiting for it to cook. This is great on a cold fall day when you need a little something to warm you up. It reheats really well, and you can even freeze it if you have any extra.

This is probably one of the easiest things you will ever make; plus, it gives you an opportunity to try new vegetables. If there are certain vegetables in season or on sale, just substitute those or include them along with the vegetables in the recipe.

Here is the Vietnamese version of the familiar Chinese egg drop soup. At its heart is a base of onion and tomato, which is cooked down to concentrate flavors and impart a lovely color. The pork adds richness, and so do the eggs, which also contribute a creamy finish to round out the tangy notes. This soup was a weekly standard at our family dinner table, and my mom would sometimes substitute tofu cubes for the pork to vary the flavor. When I have extra time, I mince the pork by hand for an authentic touch. For instructions on how to do it, see page 69.

The Vietnamese love exotic meats, and when such delicacies are unavailable, they enjoy dishes that mimic the real thing. This northern stew features a stand-in for ba ba, a freshwater snapping turtle that thrives in the south, where heavy rains offer it perfect muddy living conditions. Since the turtles are hard to find in the drier, colder north, cooks there add extra pork instead. The original southern stew also calls for pork belly. Although I’ve never tasted the real stew, I grew up eating the mock version, which, with its brilliant yellow color, robust flavors, and varied textures, is excellent in its own right. The fried tofu has a meaty consistency, and thick rounds of unripe plaintain (peel included) add interesting starchiness, astringency, and texture. Both ingredients soak up the sauce and complement the savory, rich chunks of pork. While pork shoulder works well, the best way to imitate ba ba meat and the classic stew is to use skin-on boneless pork shank (available at Chinese and Viet markets). It provides a nice balance of chewy meat and gelatinous skin to imitate the turtle, while its fat recalls the original pork belly. The sour cream is a substitute for a tangy fermented rice mash called me, a favorite northern Vietnamese ingredient that is scarce in the States. Fresh red perilla and garlic add the final flourishes to a delicious combination of flavors. Serve the stew with plenty of rice.

With modern refrigeration, there is no need to make fresh tamarind liquid each time you need it. Just as some cooks freeze cubes of stock for when they need only a small amount, I keep a stash of frozen cubes of tamarind liquid on hand. They cut down on prep time and can be used whenever a dish needs some tartness. For information on buying tamarind pulp, see page 333.

Raised by resourceful and persnickety parents, I always cut and bone my own chickens because I know I will get the pieces the way I want them. Left over bones and scraps are frozen in plastic bags for future stock-making sessions. When the bags are full, it is time to make stock. If you don’t maintain a supply of bones in the freezer, you can buy necks, backs, and wings at the meat counter of the supermarket or at the butcher shop. Many Asian cooks don’t salt their stock, assuming that salt will be added later. I prefer to salt my stock lightly, which allows me to gauge its overall flavor better. If time is tight, make the quick version included in the Note that follows.

This is a cornerstone of Vietnamese cooking. The term nuoc mau was originally coined in southern Vietnam. Northerners know this same ingredient as nuoc hang (merchandising water), probably because it was so often used by food hawkers to enhance the appearance of their wares. Its ability to impart incredibly savory-sweet flavors is the key to simmering meats, seafood, eggs, and/or tofu for everyday kho dishes. Some cooks substitute brown sugar, but the results tend to be too sweet. The inky sauce also lends rich brown color to grilled meats, much as molasses does in American barbecue. Traditionally, the sauce is made by pouring boiling water into the caramelized sugar, a somewhat dangerous step that causes the mixture to bubble and spew dramatically. This method immediately arrests the cooking, so that the sugar doesn’t burn to a bitter black stage. I find it easier to place the pan in a sink partially filled with water, which cools the caramelized sugar, halting the cooking, and then add the water to dilute the sugar. The result with both approaches is the same bittersweet, inky sauce that is a staple in every Vietnamese kitchen.

When definitive heat is what you want in a dish, fresh chiles are what you add. But when you want to inject subtle spiciness and preserve the delicate nuances of a dish, this aromatic mixture is the solution. I grew up with this condiment on the family dinner table, where it sat in a small jar alongside dispensers of fish sauce, soy sauce, salt, and pepper. Its flavors are gentler than commercially produced chile sauces, which often overpower dishes with their vinegary taste. Slowly frying the garlic and chile melds their individual flavors, so that when you add a bit of this mixture to food, it doesn’t assault your palate with its boldness. It is particularly good with stir-fry dishes and certain noodle soups. There are different kinds of chile heat, and through practice and experimentation you will learn when to use them.

Slightly sweet, this simple, creamy sauce is used to finish various sweets in the Viet repertoire. Use it cold, warm, or at room temperature, depending on the preparation.

Our family’s Viet recipe for sweet-and-sour sauce is lighter and more nuanced than traditional Chinese versions. There is no pineapple or tomato ketchup to give it heavy-duty weight and color. Instead, finely chopped vegetables are added at the end, delivering a delicate finish and a colorful confetti-like appearance. Use fish sauce for a lighter color and a slightly briny flavor. Use soy sauce for a darker color and a bolder flavor.