Southeast Asian

This Southeast Asian–influenced dish is perfect for summer dining: it is light and refreshing, with tangy sweet-and-sour flavors. I love green papaya, an ingredient that has an appealing crunch and natural sweetness. Lemongrass, another one of my favorite Southeast Asian ingredients, adds a wonderful lemony fragrance. I cook with both at my restaurant.

This light and flavorful noodle dish is one of my favorites. We use a lot of Asian ingredients at my Chicago restaurant, foods I shop for myself at the local Asian market. The best part of those trips is the Vietnamese place next door, where I stop regularly, shopping bags in hand, for a delicious bowl of pho before heading back to my kitchen. Lightly dipping the beef in broth to cook it, as I describe below, is referred to as “shabu-shabu” in Japan.

One of Thailand’s signature dishes, pad thai is as popular in Japan as it is here in America. Rice noodles are easy to overcook, so be sure to prepare this dish in small batches. If you do want to serve four people, prepare enough ingredients for four servings (including doubling the sauce), but cook the recipe in two batches, one after the other. Also, use a nonstick skillet, if possible, because rice noodles can stick to a regular pan.

I tasted an unforgettable version of this dish on a trip to Thailand a few years ago, in the city of Chiang Mai, which is famous for its vibrant Thai curries. I love the mixture of aromatic flavors and textures here, and the way this dish is sweet, pungent, and spicy all at once. If you can find them, use Thai eggplants, which are a pale green in color, and have a nice, delicate flavor. Or you can substitute slender Chinese eggplants. This dish has a lot of ingredients but is very straightforward and easy to prepare.

The national dish of the Philippines, chicken adobo is popular in Filipino immigrant communities all over the world, including the Hawaiian Islands. This recipe comes from my auntie’s friend, Violet Sadural, who was born in the Philippines and now lives in Honolulu. Beef, fish, vegetables, chicken, and pork can all be cooked adobo style. Although open to the discretion of each cook, the basic adobo ingredients are usually vinegar, soy sauce, garlic, peppercorns, and sometimes ginger. The dish is served simply, with white rice and stir-fried vegetables.

This is one of my absolute favorite recipes and it’s so easy to make. The garlic gets the flavor going, the peanut butter adds the creaminess, and the chili paste adds the heat. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating: if you haven’t used chili paste before, be careful; it’s extremely hot. You may want to start with one tablespoon and add more to taste.

Vietnamese food is perhaps my favorite of all the cuisines in the world, and I would eat it every single night if I could. At the start of every Vietnamese meal, I order a Vietnamese coffee. A glass with a sweet dose of condensed milk is brought to the table with a well-worn stainless-steel filter balanced on top, dripping steaming hot coffee into the thick, sweet milk. Once brewed, it all gets stirred up and ice is added. I thought the flavors would make an excellent ice cream, and I was right.

This tart-sweet relish is thick enough for you to plop some into the crevices of a samosa for a wonderful, classic Indian food taste treat. Tamarind is known as the “date of India,” and the delectable marriage of the two kinds of dates in this chutney is a natural. Both ingredients lend body, their flavors perfectly complementing each other. I’ve eaten this chutney off a spoon. If available, use jaggery (unrefined Indian sugar) or Southeast Asian palm sugar instead of the brown sugar. Sticky dark brown slabs of tamarind pulp are sold at Chinese, Indian, and Southeast Asian markets in a double layer of plastic packaging. Soft dates, such as Medjools, work best. Otherwise, soak chewy, hard dates in just-boiled water for about an hour to soften them, then drain and proceed.

Vietnamese cooks, particularly those from the southern region, love to add creamy richness to their sweets by drizzling on a little of this sauce (called nuoc cot dua ngot) right before serving. I don’t limit my uses to Viet preparations; this simple sauce can grace many Southeast Asian foods. Somewhat thick like yogurt, the sauce can be prepared days in advance for you to use cold, warm, or at room temperature.

Used in Chinese, Japanese, and Southeast Asian cooking, chile oil is easy to prepare at home, and it’s infinitely better than store-bought. Its intense heat enlivens many foods, especially dumplings, which benefit when chile oil is part of the dipping sauce or used as a garnish. Some cooks add aromatics, such as ginger, star anise, and Sichuan peppercorns, to the oil, but I like to keep the chile flavor pure. While you may use other cooking oils, such as canola oil, my preference is for the kind of peanut oil often sold at Chinese markets, which is cold pressed and filled with the aroma of roasted peanuts. It is texturally light, has a high smoking point, and offers a wonderful nuttiness that pairs well with the intense chile heat. Lion & Globe peanut oil from Hong Kong is terrific. Use just the infused oil or include the chile flakes for an extra brow-wiping experience.

If you enjoy rice pudding, you’ll love these Thai packets of soft sticky rice flavored by coconut cream. Steaming in banana leaves lends an alluring fragrance to the rich rice, which encases soft banana and cooked black beans. The beans offer interesting texture and color contrast in these popular street snacks. According to legend, kao tom padt (also called kao tom madt) was all that some religious pilgrims had on their journey to visit the Lord Buddha. They presented their precious food to the Lord Buddha upon arriving, and that gesture continues today as these packets are still an offering at religious ceremonies. Thai cooks typically make these packets in large quantities and thus soak and boil a fair amount of black beans. For small homemade batches, canned black beans, drained and rinsed of their canning liquid, work fine. Omit the beans for nom n’sahm chaek, a Cambodian New Year must-have. You can also grill the steamed packets and serve them with the Coconut Dessert Sauce (page 221).

Soft and chewy sticky rice dumplings have a nuanced natural sweetness that is savored by fans of East and Southeast Asian cuisines. As the recipes in this book show, they lend themselves to many occasions, cooking techniques, and fillings. Regardless of type, sticky rice dumplings never fail to please. Old-fashioned cooks pound just-cooked sticky rice to create their dough. Modern cooks like me reach for convenient glutinous (sweet) rice flour for our favorite sticky rice dumplings. Preparations involving poaching the dumplings and serving them in broth (like a sweet soup) are common in Asia. I grew up with this classic Vietnamese rendition, not realizing that fried shallots contributed to their richness until my mother revealed it to me one day. The intersection between sweet and savory contributes to these dumplings’ allure.

Mung beans are a staple legume in many Asian kitchens, where their delicate, buttery flavor lends richness to both savory and sweet treats. Like red beans, mung beans can be made into a lightly sweet paste to be stuffed inside a baked or steamed bun or dumpling. In fact, the two bean pastes are practically interchangeable. Whereas sweetened red bean paste is vaguely chocolate-like, sweetened mung bean paste resembles marzipan, both in texture and nuanced flavor. This is a Vietnamese version of the paste, with vanilla to round out the flavor and salt to inject a little oomph. Mung beans are sold at many Asian markets and health food stores. Look for the yellow ones that have been hulled and split. The green ones still have their tough skins.

Like an American “popper” snack, this diminutive sweet enjoyed in Indonesia, Malaysia, and Singapore should be eaten whole: when you bite into it, the dumpling squirts lovely melted palm sugar into your mouth. The lightly smoky, caramel-like sugar then blends with the chewy rice dough and rich grated coconut in your mouth. These dumplings, also called klepon, are typically celadon green, since the dough features pandan (screwpine) leaves, a beloved ingredient in many parts of tropical Asia (see the Note below on buying the leaves). I like to amplify their herbal essence with vanilla. If pandan leaves are unavailable, just the vanilla and water are fine. Many cooks add food coloring for a cheery mint-green note; I prefer not to. Seek out Malaysian and Indonesian palm sugar (called gula melaka and gula jawa, respectively) for the best results. It is sold at Chinese and Southeast Asian markets, usually as thick cylinders wrapped in paper or plastic. The reddish-brown sugar is solid but moist. Shave off thin pieces with a knife to measure it out easily. If palm sugar is unavailable, combine 1/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar and enough molasses (a good tablespoon) to moisten the sugar well enough to roll it into balls.

Eating is practically a sport in Singapore, and these very popular pastries are part of he city-state’s eclectic and irresistible cuisine. Possibly Portuguese in origin, these intensely flavored pineapple tarts come in many shapes, from fancy open-faced tarts to carefully carved tiny pineapples. However, for the Lunar New Year, they’re made to resemble tangerines, a symbol of good fortune; in Chinese, tangerine is a homonym for “gold.” A decorative clove (not meant for consumption!) sits atop each one to mimic the fruit’s stem. Traditionally, fresh grated pineapple is used, but many modern cooks opt for canned pineapple. A long simmering turns the fragrant pineapple into a lovely amber-colored jam resembling tangerine flesh. Instead of adding food coloring to the egg-yolk glaze to enhance the pastry’s appearance, I add a touch of ground annatto seed to brighten up the dough. Without the natural colorant, the pastries still taste great.

Full of flavor and textural contrast, Filipino turon embody the Asian knack for taking the commonplace banana and turning it into a spectacular fried treat. A popular street food, these fried rolls benefit from the delicate crispness of Shanghai spring roll skins. The bananas become creamy inside during frying and rather custardlike. You can eat these rolls alone or gild the lily with a scoop of rich vanilla ice cream or drizzle of caramel dulce de leche. Thin strips of jackfruit can be rolled up with the banana, too. The shallow frying can get a little dramatic at the end, but it is well worth the clean-up.

A favorite Indian snack, batata vada are thinly coated by a batter made with garbanzo bean flour, which fries up crisp and then settles into a delicate chewiness. Inside, the cheery yellow potato filling (colored by turmeric) speckled by mustard seed bursts with flavor from chile, ginger, lime juice, and fresh herbs. Each one is a small eating adventure in trying to parse the individual elements while enjoying the synergistic whole. You can make the experience more fun with plops of chutney. Called bondas in Southern India and batata vada in Northern India, these dumplings are beloved all over the country. In Bombay, they are shaped as patties and served in a bun as a hamburger-like sandwich called vada pao. Garbanzo bean flour (called bésan in Hindi) is available at Indian grocery stores and health food markets. It has numerous uses in Indian cuisine, as a thickener as well as in batters for fried snacks.

Soft and somewhat elastic on the outside, this Malaysian morsel contains a spritely filling of dried shrimp, shallot, ginger, lemongrass, chile, and grated coconut. After I tasted my first one in Kuala Lumpur, I quickly learned to say “choo-choo ba-dah” like a local so that I could buy them from street vendors whenever possible. Use the yellow-fleshed sweet potatoes with pale skin because this variety has a lower moisture content and will yield manageable dough that is not too sticky. For the dough, I have provided a range so that you can make dainty or moderate-size dumplings. To determine the amount of flour, use the original weight of the sweet potato. If it weighs 3/4 pound, use 3/4 cup (3 3/4 ounces) of flour. A 1-pound potato requires 1 cup (5 ounces) of flour. Whole unpeeled shrimp traditionally crown the dumpling, but modern versions sold by vendors often lack them. If you opt for the charming old-fashioned topping, purchase shell-on white shrimp (not tiger shrimp) which have edible, thin shells; they are sold at Asian markets.

Banana leaf packets of coconut sticky rice are prepared in many parts of Southeast Asia. These spectacular ones from Indonesia are filled with intensely flavored chicken. Among my favorites, they are a fine example of Indonesian cooks’ ability to create foods that are lusty, earthy, and chock-full of complexity. Lemper ayam are a popular snack and can be simply steamed or grilled; during cooking the banana leaf imparts a deep tealike flavor to the rice. For the best, most robust flavor, grind the spices from seed and use the galangal and kaffir (makrut) lime leaf; these latter ingredients are available at Southeast Asian markets and specialty-food stores, as are the candlenuts and banana leaf. Traditional Indonesian cooks use toothpicks to close up the ends of the banana leaf, whereas many modern cooks staple them shut. Serve the packets alone or as an interesting side dish.

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.