Scallion

Take a page from Korean cooks who gently simmer lean beef with lots of scallions, onion, and garlic for a light, flavorful stock. The black peppercorns impart a golden hue as well as a spicy undercurrent. I prefer shank because there’s a little marrow bone for flavor, the gelatinous meat imparts richness, and the left overs can be used for an old-fashioned Chinese treat (see Note below). You can opt for oxtail, rump, brisket, or other stewing meat but know that a little bone, meat, and fat together make for good stock flavor.

Commonly sold on Styrofoam trays at Chinese and Southeast Asian markets, these opaque white rice rolls flecked with orange dried shrimp and green scallion are a terrific southern Chinese snack. Purchased ones are seldom as tasty as homemade because producers tend to be skimpy with the dried shrimp, which give the rolls their oomph. These steamed rolls can be eaten as is, dipped in sweet soy sauce. Or they can be panfried to a delicate crisp. When served with other dishes, a few rolls are all you will need. For a light main course with a salad, double or triple the recipe.

Rice roll fillings are often precooked and reheated through steaming, but this popular one involves a filling of raw beef and orange zest that requires steaming to complete the cooking. For efficiency, professional Chinese cooks typically add the raw beef to the rice sheet about 30 seconds into cooking, but that is a difficult technique. Filling cooked sheets and then steaming them to cook the beef is easier and the results are the same. You do not have to use the baking soda in the filling, but some Chinese cooks use it as a meat tenderizer and to lend a silky texture. The beef should be hand- or machine-chopped so it isn’t too finely textured and clumpy (see page 158 for guidance).

It is easy to overindulge in these chewy-soft dumplings because they slip right down your throat. Just as you are savoring the rich scallion oil, well-seasoned filling, and tangy-sweet-spicy dipping sauce, the dumpling is gone, and you must eat another. The skin of this central Vietnamese specialty is traditionally made of tapioca starch; I add a little wheat starch for firmness, lest the dough become unpleasantly rubbery. Some Viet cooks laboriously wrap each bánh bot loc in a banana leaf and steam them. I don’t have such patience and boil mine for the “naked” (tran) version. When peeling the shrimp, save the shells for a stock to use in the sauce.

If you like pot stickers and steamed buns, you’ll love these spongy-crisp panfried treats from Shanghai, where typically they are cooked in humongous shallow pans (much like large paella pans) with wooden lids. These buns are made of yeast dough that is filled with an aromatic pork mixture and then fried and steamed in a skillet. Cooking under cover with a bit of water delivers plenty of moisture to puff up the buns. Ground beef chuck or chicken thigh can stand in for the pork in this recipe. A bāozi is a mini bāo (bun) and for that reason, I like to keep these true to their name and shape small ones. However, you can elect to form sixteen medium-size (2 3/4-inch) buns. Roll the dough circles out to 3 1/4 inches in diameter and use about 4 teaspoons of filling for each bun; increase the water and cooking time a tad.

The Chinese repertoire has many kinds of rolls—savory, sweet, thin, fat, fried, and unfried—and they’re all hard to pass up. The Cantonese fried version is bigger than its Shanghai kin, and it is encased in a large version of a wonton skin. Cantonese spring rolls, also known as egg rolls, have gotten a bad rap in America because they’re often greasy, overly doughy, and bland. However, when made from thin skins and a savory-sweet mixture of fresh vegetables and meat, Cantonese spring rolls reveal their worth as a splendid snack. Resembling gold bars and symbolizing wealth, prosperity, and good fortune, spring rolls are savored during the Lunar New Year, which is called the Spring Festival in Chinese. Cantonese spring rolls often combine pork and shrimp, but I prefer to keep the focus on tasty roast pork, which is best when homemade. Finely chopping and shredding the ingredients is time consuming, but you want the filling to be compact so that it fills out the long shape of the roll. Lighten your workload by making the filling and skins in advance.

Most people think of wontons as being fried and in soup broth, but they may also be served like Italian ravioli in a light coating of splendid sauce. Here, the sauce is nutty, spicy chile oil punctuated with fresh garlic and soy sauce. Feel free to dial the heat up or down by varying the amount of chile oil. The full amount is definitely not for the faint of heart. If you have semi refined, cold-pressed peanut oil on hand (the kind employed for making the chile oil on page 216), use it instead of the canola oil for an extra roasty dimension. These wontons make a terrific snack or an elegant, eye-opening starter. If you can, substitute the greens below with 1/4 cup thawed and well-squeezed shepherd’s purse, a mild vegetable that’s sold frozen at Chinese-American markets.

Practically the national food of Tibet, these hearty steamed dumplings are full of fragrant ginger, garlic, and Sichuan peppercorn. Momos are festive foods which are often prepared as a group activity for parties and special celebrations, particularly Losar, the Tibetan New Year. To minimize the karmic damage of eating meat, Tibetans favor larger animals for food, since one can feed many people. Naturally juicy and rich-tasting yak meat is typically hand-chopped for sha momo, but ground beef, particularly chuck, works well. Fatty ground pork or lamb, or dark meat chicken are excellent too. If you have time, hand-chop or grind the meat (instructions are on page 158) yourself for a nice toothsome bite. Adding oil and water enriches and hydrates the filling, making it extra succulent.

Whereas boiled dumplings have crinkly skins that are tender from having been immersed in hot water, and panfried dumplings have skins that are a combination of crisp bottom and chewy top, steamed dumplings are texturally in between—the skins are slightly chewy and soft. Gentle steam heat also protects the filling flavor and you taste it more, a bonus for delicate combination such as this one. Unlike many other Chinese dumpling fillings, this vegetarian filling is cooked first to allow the cornstarch to work its cohesive magic, binding the vegetables and pressed tofu together so that they are easier to control when you are assembling the dumplings. I like to use some of the liquid from soaking the mushrooms to season the filling with an earthy savor; if you do too, remember to strain the heady liquid through cheesecloth or paper towel to remove any bits of grit. For details on brown, meatlike pressed tofu, see page 17.

I can’t begin to quantify the sheer number of new ingredients and splendidly unexpected flavors that my friends in the Nguyen family introduced me to many years ago, but it is their barbecues that really hold a special place in my heart. Besides falling in love with the delicate, fragrant aroma of lemongrass, I couldn’t help but feel welcomed by their astounding hospitality

This salad was inspired by one of those gorgeous, colorful Bollywood flicks that offer a feast of singing, dancing, and romance. I love Indian food, as it was my first real introduction to all things curry. Only much later did I learn that turmeric, a typical spice in curries that gives them a yellow tint, has tremendous antitumor and anti-inflammatory properties. And to think, I loved it just for its taste! Here, I was hankering for a swirl of flavors with an Indian feel. The chicken makes a great starting point because it’s full of protein and amenable to all sorts of accessorizing. In this case, the mango and raisins play delightfully off the curry spices.

As much as I love to cook, I also really enjoy watching other cooks go through their creative process. Recently I was at a conference at the Commonweal Retreat Center, where I was able to observe one of my favorite cooks, Claire Heart. She brought out this dish, and the first thing I noticed was that it had bok choy. Now that’s a great vegetable, but it tends to be bitter. She completely solved that problem by pairing it with yams to create a dish that tasted like a vegetarian Chinese Thanksgiving. It was a completely unique and delicious pairing. The colors blew me away as well. I went home and decided to play around with her concept, adding a little ginger for zing and digestion and a few more Asian-style flavors. Thank you, Claire!

These delectable little pancakes are appreciated by adults and children alike, and are the perfect accompaniment to Asian-style soups.

Try serving this offbeat pan bread, studded with pink beans and scallions, with hearty vegetable soups and stews. I especially like this with soups that feature corn and/or squash.

A collection of vegetarian soups wouldn’t be complete without this Spanish classic. It’s especially delicious topped with Garlic Croutons (page 159).

With the help of a food processor, this tasty, no-cook soup will be ready to eat in minutes. Serve with stone-ground tortilla chips or warmed flour tortillas.

This garden-fresh medley is a good choice when you want a summery soup that is slightly warm rather than chilled.

This Asian-style soup is a treat for mushroom aficionados. Scallion Pancakes (page 157) are a good accompaniment. This is a perfect introduction to a simple meal of stir-fried vegetables with tofu.

As in many Asian-style soups, this ingredient list may look long, but it’s a snap to prepare. Adding any of the optional ingredients gives this soup a deeper and more authentic flavor.

You’ll love making and serving this earthy medley of colors, textures, and flavors on a rainy spring evening.