Asian

Traditional pot stickers, complete with fresh dough and the requisite number of pleats, are best saved for a special occasion. This version, made with store–bought wonton wrappers, is easy enough for a weeknight meal. A flavorful filling of ground chicken and celery (left over from Sage Stuffing) is seasoned with sesame oil and soy sauce and enclosed within the simply folded wonton—no pleats involved. We do cook the pot stickers the conventional way, by first frying them and then steaming them until the water evaporates and the bottoms are crisp and golden. It is imperative to use dark chicken meat (from legs and thighs) because it doesn't dry out the way leaner white meat can.

Get the irresistible flavor of samosas without all the frying. Phyllo (left over from Roasted Winter Vegetable Baklava ) makes an ingenious wrapper for our take on the popular Indian snacks, although the filling of garam–masala–spiced potatoes and peas is quite traditional. They bake up light and crisp, ready for a dip in chutney or raita. Serve these samosas with a salad for a vegetarian main course, or make smaller ones as appetizers.

With the coconut milk left over from our Sweet–Potato Coconut Purée , try this very modern spin on steamed mussels. Fennel and tomatoes are common pairings with mussels, but garam masala is the wild card here, contributing an unexpected depth of curry flavor to the coconut–milk broth and tender mussels.

It's only natural to use leftover chicken broth (from Blade Steaks with Rosemary White–Bean Purée ) to make chicken soup. But what a soup! Steeping ginger and scallion greens in the stock and then poaching the chicken in it is a quick way to achieve a depth of flavor. The final soup is enriched with silky ribbons of just–cooked eggs, shreds of tender chicken, and fresh rings of scallion. Best of all, this satisfying soup is easy enough to pull together after work.

Half a can of chickpeas left over from the Moroccan–Style Lamb and Carrots gets new life in this raita flavored with toasted cumin and fresh mint. Serve this cool Indian condiment with naan or crisp flatbread; it also tastes great with grilled lamb or chicken.

Stirring homemade chutney (left over from Country Pâté with Pineapple Chutney) into softened cream cheese makes an easy and irresistibly bright spread. A topping of crunchy curried walnuts gilds the lily and also plays up the chutney's cheery color.

Sichuan peppercorns are a wonderful ingredient to have on hand—they lend such an unusual fragrance and flavor to foods (and not just savory foods; check out chef Raquel Carena's Mocha Mousse with Sichuan Peppercorns). In China, cooks traditionally toast the peppercorns to release their aroma and then grind them together with salt. Juicy roast chicken liberally rubbed with this spice blend makes a universally appealing dish. Its flavor is warm and subtle—serve the extra spice blend on the side so guests can sprinkle more on if they want to.

This traditional sweet is believed to have originated in Sichuan, where walnut trees from Persia were first planted in China. As with many Chinese foods, the walnut is imbued with symbolic meaning: it is believed to benefit the mind because the shelled nut looks like a brain lobe. Brain food or not, the walnut was a deliciously significant sweet long ago in Sichuan and western China. Reminiscent of halvah, mashed walnuts encased in a thin, flaky dough and covered with sugar syrup is a famed tea-time dish and just one of many Sichuan creations based on walnuts. In this recipe, walnuts go through four distinct cooking processes: they are boiled, reboiled, glazed, and finally deep-fried. Once a provincial sweet, they emanated outward from Sichuan many years ago, turning up in restaurants in Shanghai, Guangzhou, and Hong Kong, usually as appetite-whetting, pre-meal snacks and just as often as snacks to conclude a meal along with fresh fruit. They were quickly dubbed "honey walnuts," though they are glazed with sugar syrup. They began to appear in the West about forty years ago, with the onset of the popularity of Sichuan and Hunan restaurants. These days, they are a standard offering. One particularly attractive aspect of these crisp, sweet walnuts is that they do not become soft if stored properly. Packed into an airtight container and left at room temperature, they will keep for at least 1 week. They will keep for at least 6 months in the freezer, and when served directly from freezer to table, they will still be crisp. Although I do recommend freezing them for an inordinate time, I did once leave them in the freezer for a year as an experiment. They were perfectly crisp and not at all stale. If you decide to make walnuts for storage, do not double the recipe, as the walnuts won't cook properly. Instead, make individual batches. Pecans can be prepared the same way.

These small dumplings come with both a story and a significant history. According to legend, they were born in the imperial kitchen when a cook, making dumplings for the emperor, forgot a batch that was slowly cooking. They were singed brown, slightly burned. With no time to spare, and an impatient, hungry emperor waiting, the cook, a nimble and adaptive fellow, arranged the dumplings on a platter, burned sides up, and presented them to the emperor as a new dish that he called, quotie, which means "stuck bottom." The emperor was delighted. Legend or not, it is a fact that these browned half-moons filled with pork and vegetables were eventually sold daily by the thousands from small streetside stands to satisfy the morning habits of people in Beijing and Tianjin, who called them jiaozi, or "little dumplings." It is a tradition that exists to this day. As popular foods do, these jiaozi migrated to Shanghai, where they became known by their imperial name of quotie, to describe their cooking process. The habit of morning pot stickers swept Shanghai, and to this day they are sold, as in Beijing, from small streetside stands. Over the years, they migrated south to Guangzhou and Hong Kong, carried by Shanghainese fleeing the Japanese invasion of their city, and sold first by refugees on the streets as a way of making a living. They have become part of the accommodating dim sum repertoire, and are referred to in Cantonese as wor tip, or "pot stickers." Serve them with a ginger-vinegar sauce (see note).

Sea bass are generally found swimming in the tanks of Chinatown fish markets. They are usually small because the fishmongers also sell to restaurants, which typically like to steam the larger fish. Steaming, as I have noted, is the preferred way for cooking whole live fish. But if you are unable to find a live fish, fresh flounder, sole, or red snapper will do nicely for this recipe.

Grandma also serves the rich, spicy soup with cucumber salad and scallion pancakes.

Pineapple helps give this Asian salad a perfect balance of hot, salty, tangy, and sweet.

In Japan, dengaku refers to food that's been miso-glazed and grilled. This Kyoto-style dish was developed by chef Abe Hiroki at EN Japanese Brasserie in Manhattan. Of course Hiroki makes his own tofu, but we used storebought tofu with great results.

A Japanese-style noodle soup that's full of healthful things: mushrooms, yams, carrots—and even salty, savory, vitamin-and mineral-rich seaweed. For details on the ingredients used in this dish, see "Ingredient Tips" at the end of the recipe.

If you don't have time to drain regular yogurt, buy thick, Greek-style yogurt, available at many supermarkets and at specialty foods stores.

Position racks in the top third and the bottom third of the oven so that the chicken and the carrots can roast together.

Lamb khorma is sensuous curry made by simmering lamb with yogurt and cream and thickening the sauce with a cashew paste. If you can find goat's milk yogurt or sheep's milk yogurt, it will make a discernable difference in this dish.