Sprout

Chow fun is indeed fun chow when you’re in the mood for tasty Asian-style fare.

Use the extra loin from the Pork Loin with Figs and Port Sauce (page 217) in the recipes below (you’ll have enough meat to make both).

SMART SUBSTITUTIONS The dressing in this healthier chef’s salad omits the mayonnaise and includes a combination of low-fat buttermilk and reduced-fat sour cream in its place. A mere tablespoon of honey helps to thicken it. Plus we’ve left out the eggs, ham, and croutons from the salad in favor of turkey, avocado, and sprouts.

Here’s my take on Pad Thai. There are a lot of ingredients here, but most of them keep well in your pantry, and substituting is easy—you could use finely chopped cabbage in place of the bean sprouts or substitute soy or hoisin sauce for the nam pla.

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.

A dish that combines the style of Chinese soup noodles with the flavors of Indian curries. This version, made entirely with fresh ingredients, is probably superior to any you’ve had at a restaurant.

Okonomiyaki, a savory pancake, is a Japanese bar snack, something that you eat (or make) while you’re drinking. There are restaurants in Japan that make nothing but okonomiyaki, where you sit at a bar or table with a griddle set into it and pick what you want in your “pancake.” Everything is fair game, from sliced roasted pork to enoki mushrooms—even to the loose bits of fried batter that are a by-product of tempura called tenkasu. This batter, which includes shredded cabbage, is made in the style linked with Osaka; in Hiroshima, the other part of Japan where the pancake is popular, they add soba noodles to the batter. Obviously it’s a very flexible recipe. Here I use bean sprouts and peas, but vary it as you like. For example, omit the sprouts and peas and use 1/2 cup sliced squid and 1/2 cup asparagus tips; in the summer, substitute 1 cup fresh corn kernels scraped off the cob. You might look for Japanese Kewpie brand mayonnaise to finish the okonomiyaki; the container makes it easy to do the very 1980s squeeze bottle garnish of mayo and okonomiyaki sauce (which is like ketchup and also comes in a squeeze bottle, available at Japanese markets) that is part of the dish’s charm. Personally, what I like is the eerie way the bonito shimmy when they’re scattered across the pancake.

This finger food is popular in the south of China, Southeast Asia, and, of course, many American Chinese restaurants. It’s perfect for parties and super easy to make, especially with store-bought egg roll wrappers. They can be filled an hour or two ahead of time and fried immediately before serving or—though it isn’t ideal—fried an hour or two ahead of time and crisped in a warm oven later.

The combination of anchovy paste and soy sauce is a good substitution for Asian fish sauce, which is used to flavor many Thai dishes. If you have fish sauce on hand, use 2 tablespoons and omit the anchovy paste and soy sauce.

Fried rice is super easy, yummy, and, shockingly, not necessarily too bad for you. Although our version has the word fried in the name, we use cooking spray instead of oil to reduce the calories, and you can also add a little fiber by using brown rice instead of white. See? Actually good for you! Rice is really cheap, and the vegetables in this recipe aren’t too expensive either, so this a staple of my diet.

At a glance, this recipe may look like the one for Sizzling Crepes (page 274), and in fact these crepes from the central region begot sizzling crepes. But the popularity of the child has eclipsed that of the parent, and nowadays it is hard to get banh khoai unless you make them yourself or go to the source, Hue, where delightful crepes live up to their name. They are crunchy, rich from being cooked in a fair amount of oil, and full of toasty rice flavor. Banh khoai are traditionally fried in special small cast-iron skillets (five to six inches in diameter) with long handles (so you can avoid the splattering hot oil). They are difficult to find, however, so I use an eight-inch cast-iron or heavy nonstick skillet.

This Southern Vietnamese specialty is technically a pickle because the vegetables steep in brine, but it is eaten in large amounts, more like a salad, with intensely flavored pork and fish kho (dishes simmered in caramel sauce). The texture and flavors of the vegetables provide the perfect bright contrast to the inky, deep flavors of kho. Flat, delicately flavored Chinese chives are traditionally combined with the bean sprouts and carrot. Because these chives can be hard to find, I often substitute leafy green scallion tops. Select small scallions the width of a chopstick or medium scallions. Larger ones can be too harsh. If you can find Chinese chives, substitute a nickel-sized bunch for the scallions.

The market: stumpy carrots, the prickle of frost, dark greens, the scent of wet soil. Here and there among the trestle tables are shallow baskets: Russian kale, tips of cavolo nero with their infant leaves, broccoli heads the size of a mushroom, and sprigs of purple and white sprouting so small you can hold ten in the palm of your hand. Each sprig of vegetable is so precious, so diminutive, as timid as a chanterelle. I pick them up with finger and thumb, which seems the way they must have been picked from their stems. These are shoots plucked from the stem after the growing heart of the plant has been removed. No smothering of cheese sauce, just a three-minute trip in the steamer and a classic hollandaise to dip them in, let down with a dash of cream and a grating of zest from a blood orange.

The funny thing about gyoza is that I never cooked them—until I moved to America. Back home I always went out for these extremely popular, garlic-infused pan-fried dumplings, which have a special place in the hearts of Japanese. When I arrived in America, gyoza was one of the comfort foods I missed the most, so I started cooking them at home. That’s when I realized how easy it is to prepare perfect gyoza: they simply need a fragrant, juicy, flavor-packed filling; crispy skin on the bottom and silky skin on top; and a spicy dipping sauce. Now my kids and I love to make homemade gyoza together. This recipe is the classic pork-filled version that I grew up with. Keep in mind that you can conveniently freeze uncooked gyoza for up to a month. To prepare, follow the fry-steam technique below with the frozen dumplings—no need to defrost. Just extend the cooking time by 3 minutes. Note: You can also prepare this dish without pork belly. Just substitute more ground pork (1 pound total). But I love using pork belly here because it adds so much flavor and richness to the gyoza.

To tell you the truth, I first created this dish by accident, when I added lamb instead of beef by mistake. But when I tasted it, I realized it was no mistake! Lamb might not be a traditional Japanese ingredient, but it’s delicious when mixed with these Asian flavors and vegetables. If you prefer beef, though, you can always use that instead. Follow the fresh Egg Pasta recipe on page 112, but leave out the optional squid ink.

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 love this dish warm or cold! Just be careful, fresh noodles don’t need to cook very long. If they are overcooked, they will get kind of mushy and loose their texture. This is one of my favorite dishes for those bring-a-dish dinners, because even if there is nothing else I like, I can make a meal out of this.