East Asian

Though not traditional, fried wontons are extremely popular. They are an easy finger food for parties and a snack that your kids will love. If you’re making the wrappers, try to get 60 out of the dough, or you may have a little filling left over.

Chawan-mushi is an egg custard flavored with stock and soy and laced with a number of tasty tidbits. In Tokyo, I had a bowl that contained tiny amounts of myoga (a potent member of the ginger family), shrimp, chicken, ginkgo nut, and yuzu, an Asian citrus fruit. None of these is essential, and you can substitute for any or all of them, as I do here. The fillings, called gu, are supposed to be whatever you have on hand. If you have covered ramekins, they are ideal for this preparation. But covering the pot works just as well.

It’s quite possible that nothing has ever sounded worse to you, but believe me, nearly everyone who tries these crisp, salty, sweet tidbits falls in love with them (some prefer the less assaultive Thai version in the preceding recipe). Best served as a little nibble, but hard to stop eating once you start, these rank as one of my favorite snacks to accompany an ice-cold beer or cold sake (or some soju, the deceptively mild Korean vodka). Buy the smallest dried anchovies (page 25) you can find for this dish, preferably no more than an inch or so long.

Serve these spicy little pancakes as an appetizer—they’d even work at a cocktail party—or as part of a meal. They’re not especially delicate (in fact they’re pretty filling), and they’re frequently served at room temperature, so feel free to make them in advance.

An inspiration from Tadashi Ono, a talented Japanese chef now living in the United States. Succulent beyond belief and a most refreshing and appetizing starter. Most octopus sold in this country is frozen, which is not necessarily a bad thing. But if you can find fresh, sweet-smelling specimens, by all means use them. In either case, have the fishmonger clean the octopus. (Or do it yourself, by inverting the head and discarding its contents.)

Thin, cold slices of beef in a flavorful soy sauce make a popular starter at Chinese banquets. The dish is usually served alongside other chilled meats, like Soy-Poached Chicken (page 274) and Barbecued Pork (page 373). You can also use it as a sandwich stuffing or snack on it at any time. For information on Szechwan peppercorns, see page 369.

This is special-occasion food for many Chinese, served as part of large meals. The eggs simmer in their special dark liquid, and eager hands reach in to retrieve an egg, peel it, and devour it. The smoky flavor and pretty patterns on the eggs are mysterious looking but easy to create. By all means, make these ahead of time, as you would any hard-cooked eggs.

Compare this recipe, which is usually served cold as a panchan (small appetizer or side dish), with the Japanese version on page 184, and you’ll have a vision of the difference between Japanese and Korean cooking, which are closely linked and starkly different at the same time.

Northern Chinese and Taiwanese meals—especially in restaurants—often begin with a little nibble, dishes of savory snacks that are set on the table with tea. They are generally items that you can pick up with your chopsticks and pop in your mouth in one motion. This cold celery dish is a perfect example, with just the right gentle crunch and bite to whet your appetite.

GINA These pot stickers are ideal appetizers for the ladies. They look like cute little presents. They can be prepared early and kept warm for serving. They’re also flavored with soy, sesame, and a bit of our Neely “medicine”—cayenne pepper. Finally, they’re made with ginger—a tonic of sorts to settle our stomachs after the cocktails and conversation.

This Korean dish is usually eaten wrapped in lettuce leaves, but you could serve it over white rice instead. For added spice, serve Asian chile-garlic sauce on the side.

In this recipe for a popular Chinese dish, an egg is stirred into the simmering soup to form tiny ribbons. For more flavor, add a teaspoon of toasted sesame oil just before serving.

I am an egg foo yong connoisseur, so I was completely confused when I tried it here in Phoenix. The egg patties were plain and hard and the vegetables were served on top. I found this so disturbing that for the first few months we lived here I tried every Chinese restaurant in a fifteen-mile radius that was listed in the phone book. None of them served the version I was used to, with the vegetables inside. You know what happened next: I came up with this 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.

When my nieces and nephews were toddlers, they loved this oven-roasted pork, tinged with char. They requested it whenever they visited grandma’s house, and she would cut it into tiny pieces and serve it atop sticky rice. I share their enthusiasm but savor the pork in many other ways, too: with regular rice, as a filling in steamed bao (page 265), stuffed into baguette sandwiches (page 34), added to wonton noodle soup (page 222), and as part of moon cake filling (page 300). A mainstay of Chinese barbecue shops and a Viet favorite, xa xiu is the Vietnamese transliteration of the Cantonese char siu (thit means meat.) To make the pork look appetizing, it is often prepared with food coloring, sold by the bottle at most Viet markets. But chemical coloring isn’t needed here. The marinade imparts an appealing reddish brown.

Chinese celery has a wonderfully intense and rather wild flavor when eaten raw, which explains why it is always cooked before serving, as in this simple stir-fry. It looks like pencil-thin stems of Western celery with roots attached, and in a bunch, it could be mistaken for Italian parsley because the leaves are similar. At a Chinese or Viet market, choose Chinese celery that looks crisp and fresh (check the roots) and use it within a couple of days of purchase.

In classic stir-fries such as this one, beef, a special-occasion meat in Vietnam, is paired with a vegetable that is equally prized and costly. Here, it is cauliflower, traditionally considered a luxury vegetable in Vietnam because it used to be grown only in the cool areas around Dalat. To allow these precious ingredients to shine, they are treated simply with little sauce and only a few other ingredients. Taking a cue from Chinese cooks, I use flank steak for stir-frying. Cut across the grain into small pieces, it cooks up to an inimitable tenderness. To complement the beef, I select cauliflower that tastes sweet, looks dense, and feels heavy for its size.

These terrific shallot slices are like bacon bits—a garnish for when you want to add final rich notes. For them to turn out well, you must first remove all the excess moisture from the fresh shallots. Many Viet cooks skip that step and fry up presliced dehydrated shallot. Sold at Chinese and Vietnamese markets, the time-saving alternative sadly lacks flavor and depth, much like the difference between onion soup made from scratch and a packaged mix. However, they are convenient and inexpensive, which perhaps explains why hành phi are sometimes overused to embellish food. I am a traditionalist when it comes to this garnish. I prepare it the day I need it so that it stays crisp, and I always start with fresh shallots to capture their subtle sweetness. I especially like them sprinkled on bánh cuon (steamed rice crepe rolls, page 270) and xôi bap (sticky rice with hominy, page 247).

Heavily influenced by the cuisine and culture of the Middle Kingdom, Viet cooks prepare many classic Chinese sweets, including these cookies. Although Chinese almond cookies are available at Asian bakeries and markets, I prefer to make them myself to ensure that they are full of real almond flavor. The cookies are slightly crispy at the edges and tender in the middle, and have a nice rich color from the glaze. I often make a double batch of this dough and freeze the extra, along with some whole blanched almonds, so that I can simply thaw the dough and bake it up when I crave the cookies.

Long before I knew about Chinese American egg foo yong, I was dipping these tasty pancakes in fish sauce and soy sauce and enjoying them with hot rice. When my mother was short of time, she would prepare a couple of plates full of these yellow, pink, and green pancakes for dinner. They are incredibly easy to whip up and yet taste fancy. The edges get fluffy and crispy from frying in a liberal amount of oil, and each rich bite contains a bit of tasty shrimp. I don’t devein the shrimp for these pancakes because I have found that it leaves unattractive lumps. But if you prefer to devein them, do so.