East Asian

Simple and incredibly delicious. If you prefer a thick sauce, like that served at many Chinese restaurants, add cornstarch (as directed) at the end of cooking; it’s by no means necessary, however. Use the smallest clams you can find, preferably just an inch or so in diameter. Cockles, which are even smaller, are often the best choice; manila clams (which are brown) are also good. Serve this dish with Basic Long-Grain Rice (page 506).

Nori, the familiar seaweed used for rolling sushi, is a popular snack in Korea, especially when treated this way. And if you use the pieces of nori to pick up clumps of rice—a common after-school snack—you may find yourself making this frequently.

Wonderfully sweet, this side dish is the Japanese equivalent of butter-glazed carrots. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Butternut or other winter squash or carrots.

One of the few recipes in which eggplant is boiled. It’s an unusual preparation, and a good one, but you can also sauté it, as in Sautéed Eggplant (page 456). Small eggplants are almost always preferable to large ones, and the Japanese know this better than anyone; you don’t even see large eggplants there. (If you must use a larger eggplant, try to get a very firm one, which will have fewer seeds.) Typically, this is made with wasabi powder; but I had it prepared with Dijon mustard in Japan, so I consider this version perfectly legitimate.

There are two keys to this salad. The first is buying dry, pressed tofu (bean curd), which is sold at most Asian food markets and some natural food stores. It’s much firmer than regular tofu and has a dense, chewy texture and a brown skin. (If you can’t find it, use extra-firm tofu and press it yourself; see page 491.) The second key is allowing the salad to marinate long enough for the tofu to absorb the dressing. That part’s easy, but it does require advance planning.

Usually served as a panchan (side dish or small appetizer), this makes a fine little salad, too. Like many panchan, it contains sesame oil. To trim bean sprouts—a process I consider unnecessary but many people worldwide believe essential—simply pull off the thin little tail.

Crunchy, mildly sweet, and lightly spicy, this is a lovely little salad I learned in Kyoto. If you can find myoga—a lily root that looks something like garlic and is sold at some Asian markets—use it instead of the onion. Like onion, it’s spicy and peppery; unlike onion, if you eat too much of it, you forget everything— or so I was told.

A popular accompaniment for White Cut Chicken (page 273), this is also good stirred into soups.

This is no more than hoisin sauce spiced up. It’s great with Spring Rolls (page 38) or Lumpia Rolls (page 68) and makes an acceptable substitute for Sesame-Chile Paste (page 591). Like every other bottled condiment, hoisin varies in quality: look for a jar that lists soy as the first ingredient and little more than that, sugar, chile, and spices. As for chili sauce, look for Vietnamese chili-garlic sauce, sold at almost every Asian food store; like hoisin sauce, it keeps indefinitely in your refrigerator.

A good all-purpose fresh chile sauce, one that will keep for a couple of weeks in the refrigerator. Hot but flavorful; great for bland foods, such as Hainanese Chicken Rice (page 275).

A complex, multipurpose sauce that is good enough to eat with a spoon; adjust the proportions to your taste once you get used to it. Serve it warm, with Grilled Satay (page 101), Fried Satay (page 100), Spring Rolls (page 38), or simply rice crackers, sold at many Asian and health food markets, or other crackers. See page 500 for information on Asian fish sauces like nam pla.

You can buy go chu jang, the excellent, slightly sweet and not-superhot Korean chile paste that is a part of Crab Soup (page 135) and many other Korean dishes, but in many places it’s easier just to make this substitute, which keeps for about a month, covered, in the refrigerator. It’s a good sauce for any grilled food or even raw vegetables. The best chile powder for this is not the typical Mexican chile powder but ground Korean chiles—co chu kara—which (obviously) you can buy at Korean markets (you can also buy pretoasted and ground sesame seeds). It’s bright red, looks like coarse cayenne, and is not super hot. A good alternative is chile powder made from ground New Mexico chiles.

This common, versatile sauce is usually served with grilled fish or vegetables or with shabu-shabu, but it turns up everywhere and can be used in many ways. It keeps indefinitely—a friend of mine insists it’s best after months in the refrigerator; certainly it’s no worse. You can buy yuzu juice frozen or—sometimes—fresh at Japanese specialty markets; it has a unique flavor but close enough to lemon and lime that the combination is a good substitute. You can also get bonito flakes at Japanese markets. If you are serving this as a dipping sauce at the table, garnish with finely chopped scallions or chives.

This is not the pickled ginger served at most Japanese restaurants: It’s better, because it contains no preservatives or coloring. It will not turn pink, or only slightly, but it will be delicious. You may have to play with the sugar content: Some people like it far sweeter than others. Two tablespoons, the amount I use here, is the minimum. If at all possible, use fresh young ginger for this recipe. It will be pinker, with a soft, smooth skin, not woody, like most of the ginger at the market (which is fine for other recipes and uses). Young ginger is easier to peel and slice, and the resulting pickle will have a more delicate texture.

Sesame seeds flavor foods from the Middle to the Far East, and this Japanese version is sublime. Spooned over grilled or broiled chicken, meat, or full-flavored fish, it produces a kind of instant teriyaki. It’s also fine over lightly steamed spinach or other vegetables. Good with a little minced ginger added, too.

The smell of dashi—the basic stock common to hundreds of Japanese dishes—is everywhere in Japan. And that makes sense: it’s a quickly made stock that gives all kinds of foods a good, distinctive flavor. The two main ingredients—kelp (a kind of seaweed also called kombu; see page 484) and dried bonito flakes (bonito is a type of tuna)—are esoteric, but they’re sold at every Japanese market and now at many more general Asian markets and health food stores. The process is simple, the results reliable; try it. But whatever you do, steer clear of instant dashi, which is just about as good as chicken bouillon cubes, which is to say not good at all.

A festive dish that takes a bit of preparation—a simple enough process, but quite a few steps. Nevertheless, it’s a delicious and unusual noodle dish, and because it’s best served at room temperature, you can make it a couple of hours in advance. Substitute shrimp or fish for the meat (or omit it entirely) if you like. Precooked fish cake is available at Korean or Japanese markets. Potato starch noodles are available at Korean markets.

A prime example of the simplicity with which you can successfully treat fresh Chinese egg noodles, which are available at many supermarkets.

These Chinese meatballs are so named because of their large size.When served in the center of cabbage leaves, the dish resembles a lion’s head and mane; or at least that’s what they say. In any case it is an unusual, delicious dish that’s easy to make.

The first time I had hiyashi somen they were a revelation. It was a staggeringly hot day, and a Japanese friend was cooking dinner. When I found out we were having noodles, I was a little dismayed—I was more in the mood for a salad than for pasta. Then she brought out (what I now know as) hiyashi somen, in little bowls on top of ice with a cool dipping sauce to accompany them—perfect food for a blistering day. You can top the somen with poached and chilled shrimp or room-temperature grilled shiitakes, but it’s plenty good plain, as here. If you want to significantly speed up an already fast dish, skip the dried shrimp and sugar (or substitute homemade sugar syrup). For information on dried shrimp, see page 185.