Category Archives: Easy

Japanese Baking Adventures: Matcha Pound Cake

One reason I find authenticity annoying is that some of the best cuisine out there has happened when one group takes the traditions of another and makes it their own. In fact, that is a lot of Jewish cuisine, generally, as I have written on this blog for over a decade. 

a cup of frothy green tea in a cup
Matcha (photo T. Tseng/CC)

Another example is Japanese-style baking. Though Japan has a delicious native sweets tradition, Japanese cuisine has also incorporated a baking tradition stemming from German and French baking in the 19th century and earlier Portuguese innovations. The history of Japanese baking has been well-documented elsewhere. You can find these baked goods in bakeries, Japanese convenience stores (konbini), restaurants, cafeterias, and many places in Japan – and at many Japanese shops here in the USA.

I actually enjoy the Japanese versions of these baked goods more than the Western “originals.” They are a touch less sweet and a good deal lighter, and often incorporate Japanese ingredients like matcha or red bean, which I enjoy. (The lightness comes from using lighter flours and rice flour.) I also find that these baked goods tend to have a comforting, understated nature to them. Normally, these are desserts I would buy elsewhere, but my husband asked me to try my hand at making some.

shelves of pastries with tongs and trays to take them with labels in Japanese
A bakery counter in Japan (photo Kawasaki Yusuke/CC)

Hence this pound cake, based on a recipe for a lemon pound cake in Brendan Liew and Caryn Ng’s Konbini,which is a cookbook of Japanese convenience store cuisine. Pound cakes are fairly popular in Japan, and the Japanese pound cake is a very relaxed treat. I have made mine with matcha rather than lemon, and a little less sweet even than the original. Feel free to adjust the sweetness to your taste.

Matcha Pound Cake

Based on a recipe by Brendan Liew and Caryn Ng in Konbini

Makes one 9-inch/22.5-centimeter long loaf

Ingredients:

  • 4.25 ounces/120 grams white flour
  • 1.4 ounces/40 grams potato starch
  • 1.4 ounces/40 grams glutinous rice flour
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • 3.5 ounces/100 grams white sugar
  • .35 ounce/10 grams matcha powder (culinary grade)
  • 6 tablespoons melted butter
  • 6 tablespoons whole milk + 1 tablespoon for glaze
  • 2 large eggs
  • 2 ounces/56 grams bittersweet baking chocolate, chopped
  • 1.75 ounces/50 grams confectioner’s sugar

Method:

  1. Preheat your oven to 175 C/350 F. Grease and line a 9”x5”/22.5 centimeter loaf pan.
  2. In a bowl, sift together the flours, starch, baking powder, salt, sugar, and matcha powder. I do so by mixing them with a whisk.
  3. Whisk together the butter, 6 tablespoons of milk, and eggs.
  4. Pour the egg mixture into the flour mixture and mix until combined. You should have a reasonably thick batter that is darkish green in color.
  5. Fold in the chocolate until combined.
  6. Pour the mixture into the prepared pan and bake for 1 hour to 1 hour 10 minutes, or until a toothpick comes out clean.
  7. Remove and let cool, first in the pan and then out of the pan.
  8. While the cake cools, make the glaze by mixing together the confectioner’s sugar and remaining tablespoon of milk until you have a loose liquid.
  9. Spoon the glaze over the cake. The cake keeps covered at room temperature for 4-5 days.

Thanks to David Ouziel and AJ Faust for repeat user acceptance testing of this recipe, and to my friends at Mishkan Torah Congregation in Greenbelt and my husband’s friends for testing the final version of this recipe.

Arugula Basil Pesto – Garlicky Joy

Here is a quick recipe for an arugula basil pesto that I cobbled together from a few recipes recently. Arugula adds a peppery kick to the basil, and also, many nutrients. I also added some nutritional yeast for an umami kick, but feel free to leave that out. This is a great recipe for using up the arugula-in-baggies that you find at many supermarkets here in the US.

Arugula and garlic both have long Jewish histories: I wrote about arugula for the Forward back in 2016! Garlic has long been associated with Jews and Jewish cooking, especially in Italy, Greece, Turkey, and Lithuania. There were superstitions around garlic, a lot of garlic grown in home gardens, and garlic was often the most readily accessible seasoning. 

Eat this with pasta, fish, potatoes, vegetables, bread, or whatever else you wish. I have eaten this pesto with gnocchi – as shown in the photo – and very much enjoyed it.

Gnocchi with a light green pesto with dark flecks in a bowl
Arugula basil pesto served on gnocchi – forgive the messiness of the photo please! (Photo mine, December 2025)

Arugula Basil Pesto

Makes 2 cups


½ cup pine nuts
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
½ cup shredded Parmesan cheese
5 cloves garlic
3 cups arugula
3 tablespoons lemon juice
½ teaspoon table salt
1/3 cup basil leaves
2 teaspoons apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon nutritional yeast (optional)

  1. Toast the pine nuts. Here are two ways to do so:
    • Heat a dry skillet over medium heat, then add the pine nuts and heat, stirring constantly, for three minutes, or until they visibly change color or have a noticeable toasted-nut smell. Remove immediately from the heat.
    • Spread evenly on a microwave-safe plate, then microwave in 30-second spurts on high heat until golden color and fragrant. 
  2. Place the pine nuts in a food processor with the remaining ingredients.
  3. Puree the mixture until it is consistent and well-mixed throughout.
  4. Store in the refrigerator in a covered container for up to four days.

Great Books: Vietnamese Vegetarian, by Uyen Luu

My husband loves Vietnamese food. The balance of flavors speaks to him; he loves the textures and the forward tastes; and he likes lemongrass more than anyone I know. He asked me to make more Vietnamese food recently. (Reader, I lovingly cater his meals.) I decided to buy a cookbook, and chose Vietnamese Vegetarian, by Uyen Luu, because we do not eat much meat. This quick purchase was an excellent one, which I now recommend to you.

Book cover of Vietnamese Vegetarian by Uyen Luu: with stylized vegetables and the subtitle "simple vegetarian recipes from a Vietnamese home kitchen"

Vietnamese Vegetarian is an incredible book for three reasons: its approach, its flexibility, and of course, the recipes.

First – this book is a perfect example of what an accessible showcase of a cuisine can be. The recipes are rooted in what Vietnamese people eat in Vietnam and the diaspora, of course. Many common favorites are in this book – pho, sour soups, noodle salads, and summer rolls among them. However, Luu does not insist that you always find the exact ingredient someone might use in Vietnam, and offers options and substitutions, especially aimed for someone not near Vietnamese or other Southeast Asian stores.  For example, she offers quite a number of potential substitutions in her noodle recipes – and explains how you may need to adjust the recipe.

Secondly – this book accounts for flexibility in recipes in a way that I will seek to emulate more on this blog, now. Many of her recipes come with a dizzying array of options: be it to bake or fry the spring rolls, which herbs to include in your banh xeo crepes, or the multiple seasoning options for simple stir-fried greens. After reading this book, I will now include more “choose your own adventure” posts here.

Green Thai basil in a garden
Basil (rau húng quế), which frequently appears in the book’s recipes. (Photo VanGenius via CC/Flickr)

And, of course, the recipes are delicious. Many of these recipes are a bit complex – especially the ones involving rice flour (which is very easy to mess up!) – but well worth the time. On the simpler side, I have really enjoyed the tofu with tomato and Thai basil (called rau húng quế  in Vietnamese) and the lemongrass tofu, and the cold noodle dishes are all really tasty. I also recommend the many-recipes-in-one garlicky greens close to the beginning of the book. Even with my experience in cooking, that recipe gave me many new ideas.

Vietnamese food culture is a wonderful world, and Luu’s book is a great place to start. I recommend the book and hope you enjoy it. Be sure to also explore Vietnamese eateries in your area if you are so able: this cookbook has heightened the joy of going to these businesses for me as well. I now deeply appreciate, even more, the creativity and human endeavor of this cuisine.

Vietnamese Vegetarian, by Uyen Luu

Vegetables So Jewish They Are Called Jews (Green Beans and Carrots)

“¿Te gustan judías?”  “Do you like judías?”

I laughed – of course I like Jews. My interlocutor, who was from Spain, seemed confused. She was talking about green beans.

Never mind that I was more accustomed to the deeply Mexican word, ejotes, or the less common poroto and vainita. (Every Spanish-speaking country has their own word.)What I found interesting was that in Spain, and several other countries, the word for “green bean” is literally “Jews” or “green Jews.” (PDF in Spanish) Well, “green Jewish women.”

Green beans and carrots in a red sauce in a white bowl
Green beans and carrots (photo David Ouziel/March 2025)

Though green beans are native to the New World, they have been associated with Jews pretty much ever since reaching the Old. Before the Inquisition and the colonization of the Americas, fava beans were called judías in Moorish Spaindue to the Jewish propensity to eat fava beans. The similar, but smaller, green beans picked up the moniker once they arrived on European shores. Though most of the plants were grown for their mature common beans, some varieties produce pods suitable for eating – the green beans we know today. These became popular by the beginning of the 17th century across the Mediterranean – especially in Jewish communities. Many North African communities adopted green beans as a traditional food for Rosh Hashanah, because the name sounds like the Aramaic word for “plenty.” (For this reason, many other communities eat black-eyed peas.)

Many fantastic green bean dishes exist across the Jewish world – especially stewed with another New World star, the tomato. That recipe, fasolyas or fasolakes, has hundreds of variations. Jewish and non-Jewish Iranians cook lubia polo, a rich dish of rice, green beans, and often, meat. Egyptian Jewish stew lamb or beef with green beans – and sometimes, tomatoes too. Indian Jews sauté green beans with mustard and cumin. They are all delicious.

I took inspiration from three sources for this dish. One is a green bean dish perfected by my husband’s late grandmother, who was from the venerable Jewish community of Thessaloniki (Salonica). She cooked her green beans in a tomato-based stew – a different recipe, but the seasoning is inspired by her. When my father-in-law makes the dish, I usually consume four helpings. The dry stew and the addition of carrots are inspired both by a recipe from Tuscany and Italian Jewish communities and the Ethiopian fasolia, in which green beans and carrots are sauteed such that the green beans’ juices become part of the stew.

Eat this dish with bread, rice, or any carbohydrate you like.

Green Beans and Carrots

Serves 4-5 as a side

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 medium yellow onion, diced

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 tablespoon white wine or rice wine vinegar

1 pound/450g green beans, chopped into 1.5”/4cm pieces

3 medium carrots, peeled and chopped into 1.5”/4cm matchsticks (roughly 1/4”/1/2cm wide)

2 tablespoons tomato paste

1 tablespoon bouillon base (or 2 bouillon cubes)

½ teaspoon ground black pepper

1/2 cup water

  1. Heat the oil in a large skillet on medium-high heat, then add the onions and garlic.
  2. Sauté the onions and garlic for a 4-5 minutes or until the onions are quite soft and translucent.
  3. Add the vinegar and sauté for another minute.
  4. Add the green beans and carrots and mix in, then sauté for 30 seconds.
  5. Add the tomato paste, bouillon base, and black pepper and mix in thoroughly. Then, add the water.
  6. Bring to a simmer, then reduce the heat to medium-low and cook for 10-15 minutes, stirring regularly. Allow the vegetables to become soft and the sauce to reduce. If the sauce is very reduced, add a splash more water.
  7. Once the green beans and carrots are tender and the sauce is reduced, turn off the heat.
  8. Serve hot or warm. Keep leftovers in a sealed container in the fridge for up to five days.

Thank you to David for conducting User Acceptance Testing on this recipe!

Tomato Soup

I want to kick off 2025 with this simple tomato soup. I have made a variety of freehand tomato soups now and again over the years – this one is perhaps a bit more elaborate than usual. It goes well with sandwiches, latkes, or anything particularly “carby.”

Many fist-sized tomatoes of various shades of red in a box
Fresh heirloom tomatoes, before cooking or canning, at a farmer’s market in Charleston, SC. (Photo mine/September 2017)

While we do not necessarily think of tomato soup as an explicitly Jewish dish, many Jewish cookbooks have included it over the years. Fania Lewando included more than one tomato soup in her vegetarian Yiddish-language cookbook nearly a century ago in Lithuania, as did many cookbooks for immigrant Jews in the early 20th century in the United States. Many South African Jewish community cookbooks have tomato soup recipes as well – and I do wonder if my freehand soups are subconsciously inspired by those of my South African grandparents (may they rest in peace). These soups are all enabled by canned tomatoes – a miracle of modernist food that allows us to enjoy the summer wonder of tomatoes in the dead of winter, or far from anything green. (Incidentally, the best tomato soup I ever had was at a restaurant inside a tomato greenhouse in Iceland.)

Red-orange soup in an orange bowl with the reese's logo
Tomato soup mine, not Reese’s. (Photo mine/January 2025)

I add the luxuries of some fresh tomatoes and basil to my soup, but these can easily be swapped for dried basil and more canned tomatoes. This is a soup that does well as leftovers, and feel free to make in large quantities and freeze for later.

Tomato Soup

Makes 4 big or 8 small servings

3 tablespoons butter or vegetable oil

1 small Vidalia onion, roughly chopped

1 large carrot, roughly chopped

4 stalks celery, roughly chopped

5 cloves garlic, smashed

2 15 oz/425g cans diced tomatoes, unsalted

A handful of fresh basil, roughly chopped, or 2 teaspoons dried basil

1 tablespoon bouillon base or two bouillon cubes, crushed

4 cups water

3 small Roma tomatoes, roughly chopped (see note above)

1 teaspoon table salt

¾ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

  1. In a medium-sized Dutch oven on medium-high heat, melt the butter or heat the oil.
  2. Add the onion, carrot, celery, and garlic, and sweat for a few minutes, stirring regularly, until the onion is noticeably softer and smaller.
  3. Add the diced tomatoes and mix in.
  4. When the tomatoes start bubbling, add the basil and bouillon and mix in thoroughly.
  5. Add the water and bring to a boil.
  6. When boiling, add the tomatoes, salt, and pepper.
  7. Simmer for 15-20 minutes, or until the peel is coming off the tomato pieces. Stir often.
  8. Turn off the heat.
  9. Blend the soup with a stick blender or in batches in a food processor.
  10. Serve hot. The soup keeps for up to six days in the refrigerator or four months in the freezer.

Thanks to David Ouziel, Thomas Hamed, Dan Reed, Maryam Sabbaghi, and Douglas Graebner for participating in User Acceptance Testing for this recipe.

How to Be A Good Colleague in the Office Kitchen

It has happened to many of us: you walk into the kitchen in your office, hoping to warm up your leftovers (perhaps from one of my recipes, I hope). And there, piled on the kitchen counter, is the orange shock of powdered cheese from mac-and-cheese.

Kitchen inconsiderateness has struck again.

Coffee maker clipart, drink illustration
Drawing from Openverse

I am lucky enough to work in an office with colleagues who keep our shared kitchen quite clean and are generally “good kitchen buddies,” so I have been insulated from kitchen problems for the past few years. I cannot say the same about some other places I have worked. In addition, many friends, have shared horror stories with me about their office kitchens, especially in the post “return to office era.” Meanwhile, a few of my colleagues (who, I repeat, are doing great!) have noted that a list of common rules would actually be helpful.

So here is my attempt to write something on being a good co-worker when you share a sink, microwave, fridge, and maybe even toaster oven, coffee maker, or kettle with dozens of other people.

We all know some tried and true rules – don’t put fish in the microwave, don’t steal other people’s food, don’t set things on fire. But I think there are some basic rules that everyone should make an effort to follow – which are followed by fewer people than we care to admit.

green leafed plants
Photo by Marc Mueller on Pexels.com

So, to start you off on being a good kitchen co-sharer and co-worker, I have five rules that I suggest you follow.

  1. Clean your mess. If you spill it, you clean it, now. If you see that something of yours went off, you toss it, now. It does not wait. It is not a later project. This is your responsibility. If you need help, by all means, get it, but in a shared space, you do not less your mess fester.
  2. Monitor your stuff. It is your responsibility to make sure you do not have anything rotten in the fridge or cupboards, and it is your responsibility to make sure that when you put things away, you are not causing a risk for anyone else.
  3. Be accountable. If you break something, own up to it! If you spill something, clean it up – and own up to it! Honesty is a very important principle in any shared space.

    Beyond honesty, communal duty is also important. Make sure the duty to ensure the kitchen is clean rotates among different colleagues. Put it in writing, and make sure that folks check it, and take their turns. Kindly, professionally, but firmly dismiss excuses. For example, if someone is unsure how to clean the kitchen, you can always suggest they look up one of the many excellent guides available on the internet.

    If you do have trouble, I suggest making a list of tasks. As patronizing as it may sound, a list will help people remember things that are often forgotten – especially tasks like descaling the coffee maker or cleaning the microwave.

    Be prepared for some juicy excuses. I have now experienced more than one autistic person who has told me – someone who very much has autism – that their autism meant that they could not clean a shared space. With all honesty, the insistence of many fellow neurodivergent people on sloughing off all communal duty under the slogan of “but, brain” enrages me in a stapler-touching way. (Enjoy the ‘90s reference.) The answer to this is to find ways to make the duty as accessible as possible, not slough it off on other colleagues who might have their own access needs. I actually made an entire site about it.
  4. Fix what you see, when you can. This is related to #1. If you see that someone else did a bad thing – say, leaving a spill uncleaned – you should fix it. Even if it is not your fault. Saying “not me” builds bad rapport – and also, heightens the risk for everyone. The longer a mess goes unaddressed, the more likely consequences – vermin, a slip and fall, or even a nasty smell – are. Of course, there is an exception here: do not try to fix things that you cannot fix – say, a completely fried toaster oven. That could get dangerous pretty quickly.
  5. Wash your hands early and often. I have a gut feeling that many people get food poisoning in shared work kitchens because of all the flying bacteria and varied skills with food safety. You also never know who might have an allergy, and what your hands have picked up elsewhere in your office. A hand wash rarely hurts.

And lastly, in the spirit of #3: I am sure I missed something. What else would you add?

Ice Pops Are a Delight of Modernist Cooking

Shana tova! Here is one last post for 5784.

I have lately been very into ice pops – and for reference, my most recent birthday was my 33rd, not my 5th. You may know these as popsicles – which comes from the brand name Popsicle. I am especially fond of the mango Greek yogurt popsicles sold at Whole Foods. And while I have mostly been invested in making and eating ice pops, I do think that they are a really good example of why modern food is good, actually.

Green popsicle held by someone
Matcha yogurt popsicle (photo mine, October 2024)

Ice pops are a perfect example of modernist cooking – functionally, they were not even feasible until the late 19th century. Why? Well, refrigeration and freezing as we know it only became widely available around then – and icehouses before that were pretty much the domain of the wealthy. (Some ancient practices like the Iranian yakhchal were available more widely in their regions.) Freezers were more common in commercial settings – like stores – well into the 20th century; the majority of American homes did not have a refrigerator or freezer until the late 1930’s. Most people in much of the Global South still do not.

The history of ice pops closely tracks this history: frozen mass-market treats beyond ice cream became common in the late 19th century, and popsicles were invented early in the 20th century. In developing countries, popsicles often become popular first as commercial refrigeration becomes more common, then as more consumers have freezers at home.

Popsicles also reflect the availability of clean water and dairy. Often, the ingredients are not heated – and as a result, harmful bacteria get frozen in situ, still ready to wreak havoc on a digestive system. One reason we can have ice pops at all – and why they are still dangerous in many places – is because of access to water sanitation and pasteurization, beyond refrigeration.

Multicolored popsicles
Paletas (photo Arnold Gatilao/Wikimedia CC)

Every country seems to have a favorite ice pop. In Israel, watermelon popsicles are popular. Mexico has a whole family of paletas with flavors ranging from prickly pear to horchata. In Panama, my partner and I were able to try duros, stickless popsicles with the flavors of various tropical fruits like soursop and guava. (The passionfruit duros are spectacular.) Popsicles are big money in many countries too: Japanese consumers buy billions of yen worth of garigari-kun– soda-flavored ice pops – every year.

Popsicles are fun to make. They are also quick – I am always amazed at the speed at which a few ingredients transform into popsicles going in to freeze. A lot of ice pop recipes are out there, and many of them are quite good! I have sketched out, below, a method for making popsicles that I like, sweetened with honey and with the tang and weight of Greek yogurt. I hope you enjoy.

Make Your Own Ice Pops!

Here is a rough sketch of a popsicle recipe, with two varieties:

Set up

I have six ice pop molds, each of which has a 1/3 cup capacity. So, each of these recipes makes about two cups of filling. If you have bigger molds or more capacity, feel free to do math to increase the filling.

Always leave a little room in the mold for the popsicle to grow as it freezes.

I list Greek yogurt for both recipes, but feel free to use a dairy-free substitute for a pareve ice pop.

Matcha Yogurt Popsicles (based on this recipe)

1 ¾ cups Greek yogurt, 2 tsp culinary grade matcha, 3 tbsp honey, 1 tsp vanilla, pinch of salt. Whisk the ingredients together, pour into your molds, add the sticks, and freeze.

Cucumber Orange Popsicles

Puree one large cucumber and the flesh of one orange, then strain to get the juice. (Discard or compost the solids). This will give you about one cup juice. Whisk the juice together with ¾ cup Greek yogurt, 4 tablespoons of honey, and 1 teaspoon lemon juice. Pour into your molds, add the sticks, and freeze.

Cacao Nib Cookies: The Less-Sweet Cousins of Chocolate Chip Cookies

Mountains, blue sky, and fields with trees and gras
An Andean landscape near Ollantaytambo in Cusco Department (photo mine, May 2024)

I recently went on vacation to Peru – which is a magical country. The people are friendly, the historic sites are majestic, and there is a lot of “verve.” I strongly urge you to go. One highlight, of course, was the food. Peruvian cuisine is, of course, well known for its artful use of native and introduced foodstuffs. But what I find interesting about Peru is how it was very much the cradle – or a cradle – of many of the foods we enjoy in the modern world today: including tomatoes, potatoes, and chocolate. Though cacao is more commonly associated with pre-Columbian Mesoamerica, it was actually first domesticated and grown in what is now the Amazon rainforest of Ecuador and Peru. Cacao is still grown in the region, and Peru is one of the top ten cacao growers in the world.

While there, I went on a “chocolate production experience” – where I got to learn a bit more about cacao nibs. These are bits of cracked, roasted cacao beans that have not yet been processed into chocolate. They have a bitter, nutty, complex flavor that is deep and still chocolatey. Learning about chocolate and cacao in Peru was very interesting – and I enjoyed tasting the different “terroirs” of different cacao beans.

After this experience, I brought back a kilo (2.2 pounds) of cacao nibs. Enter the experimentation.

Cookies with cacao nibs on a colorful striped plate

Many people use cacao nibs as a substitute for chocolate chips in cookie recipes. Most of their cookie recipes, though, are quite complicated, or tend to use a lot of other specialty ingredients (to some of which I am allergic). Instead, I wanted to make a simple recipe with the cacao nibs that highlighted their savory nature, but was still friendly and approachable. Hence these cookies – which I have based on other cookies I have made before.

I have made these cookies several times now, and I really enjoy them. They are akin to a less-sweet cousin to a chocolate chip cookie, and the cacao nibs add a pleasant nuttiness. Many of the “taste-testers” who tried this recipe over several renditions over the past few weeks made similar comments to me. I hope you enjoy these cookies too.

Cacao Nib Cookies

Makes about 30 cookies

1 stick (8 tablespoons) butter or a butter substitute, softened

1 cup sugar (you can reduce this if you wish)

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 large egg

½ teaspoon salt

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1 ½ cups whole wheat pastry flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 cup crushed cacao nibs

  1. Preheat your oven to 375F/190C. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.
  2. Cream together the butter and sugar until well combined and beginning to get fluffy. Add the eggs and vanilla extract and mix thoroughly.
  3. Sift together the flour, baking powder, salt, and cinnamon.
  4. Add the flour mixture and the cacao nibs to the butter mixture and mix to form a dough.
  5. Let the dough rest for five minutes.
  6. Place walnut-sized balls on the cookie sheet, about 2 inches/5 centimeters apart.
  7. Bake for 11 minutes, then remove from the oven. Let sit on the cookie sheet for an additional 15 minutes.
  8. Store in an airtight container for up to a week.

Thank you to my co-congregants at Mishkan Torah synagogue, many friends, and my colleagues for participating in User Acceptance Testing for this recipe.

Playing with Ingredients: Sichuan Pepper Butter Pasta

And now, a well-timed recipe: with butter, for Shavuot. This recipe was inspired by a conversation two years ago – but first, a little context on Sichuan peppercorns, one of my favorite spices.

Sichuan peppercorns
Sichuan peppercorns (Didier Descouens, February 2011/Wikimedia Commons – CC)

Sichuan peppercorns are a delicious spice native to China. They provide a smokey, slow heat to food with a famous tingling (mala in Chinese). These peppercorns – which are different from the black peppercorns we add to food – are a key part of Sichuan cuisine and all its fiery deliciousness, and predate the introduction of chilies to China in the 17th century. Until 2005, they were not allowed in the United States, but now they are key to the increased popularity of Sichuanese cuisine. I have enjoyed using them while cooking Sichuan-style boiled tofu and other delicious things.

Cue to a party two years ago, when I got to meet Yao Zhao, who started 50 Hertz, which imports high-quality Sichuan peppercorns to the United States. We started talking about the wonders of the pepper, and he pointed out that it would be wonderful if people used Sichuan pepper more…with foods other than Sichuanese cuisine! As an authenticity skeptic, I really liked this idea.

Whole wheat noodles glistening with scallions
Sichuan peppercorn butter noodles with a healthy quantity of scallions on top. (Photo mine/June 2024)

More recently, I accidentally created this recipe while thinking back to that conversation. On a whim, I added some Sichuan pepper to some buttered pasta that I ate with fish and a salad. Since then, I have iterated on this recipe to produce this version.

This recipe goes well with crunchy vegetables and soft proteins like fish and tofu. You can also garnish with herbs if you like, but I appreciate the acidity of the scallions. This recipe tastes far better with whole wheat pasta – the nuttiness really matches the tingly sensation well.

Sichuan Pepper Butter Pasta

Serves 4

14 oz/400 grams short pasta (recommend whole wheat)

Water

1 tablespoon green Sichuan peppercorns (I recommend 50Hertz)

3 ½ tablespoons unsalted butter or vegan butter

2 teaspoons light soy sauce

1 teaspoon Chinkiang vinegar*

Chopped scallions, to taste

  1. Cook the pasta in the water according to package directions. Reserve ½ cup of the pasta water before draining.
  2. While the pasta is cooking, toast the Sichuan peppercorns: heat a skillet or griddle dry, over medium heat, then add the peppercorns and cook for about a minute, stirring. Remove from heat.
  3. Grind the Sichuan peppercorns to a rough grind – you can use a spice grinder or mortar and pestle.
  4. In a pan over medium heat, melt the butter. Then, add the pepper, soy sauce, and vinegar and mix thoroughly. Turn off the heat.
  5. Add the butter mixture to the pasta, and add back the pasta water. Stir over low heat until thoroughly combined.
  6. Garnish with the chopped scallions and serve.
  7. Store leftovers in an airtight container for up to four days.

*If you cannot find Chinkiang vinegar, rice vinegar will do – add another half teaspoon of soy sauce in that case.

Tofu with Garlic Ginger Soy Sauce

First: two things for which I need to say “sorry.” I apologize for not posting much and still not posting about the situation in the Middle East – beyond busy-ness, others have said things more eloquently than I can. Forgive me, too, for posting a recipe for something that is obviously kitniyot and may contain chametz about a week before Passover. You can always save this recipe for later.

Now, to business: I realize I have not posted a tofu recipe of my own on this blog, which is ironic, because I love tofu and I eat a lot of it. (My social distancing matrix recipe from 2020 only half counts.) As in, I buy tofu pretty much every time I shop for groceries. I am not vegetarian – but I do not eat much meat, and I really adore tofu. The texture is so pleasing, and one can do so many things with it. It is also a food with a fascinating history; I recommend listening to this Gastropod episode to learn more.

This is a simple recipe based on Korean dubu buchim that I have made often recently. It has become a frequent favorite in recent months. It is an amalgam of several different recipes from various authors and bloggers I like – with a particular focus on the books and blogs I use for Korean recipes. The firm but yielding texture of the tofu meshes nicely with the savoriness of soy, and the ginger adds a nice zing. It also comes together quite quickly – which is nice for weeknights.

I hope you enjoy this recipe. It is very versatile and goes with many things. I enjoy this especially with cooked greens and some nice rice.

Pan-fried tofu with a dark soy sauce with garlic, ginger, and scallions on a yellow plate on a white counter.
(Photo David Ouziel/March 2024)

Tofu with Garlic Ginger Soy Sauce

Based on recipes by Kathy YL Chan, Robin Ha, Emily “Maangchi” Kim, Deborah Madison, and Sue Pressey (My Korean Kitchen)

About 3-4 servings

1 pound/454 grams extra firm tofu

2-3 tablespoons sunflower seed oil (or any other high-smoke point neutral oil)

4 scallions, finely chopped

1 inch/2.5 cm fresh ginger, crushed

5 cloves garlic, crushed

3 tablespoons soy sauce

1 tablespoon toasted sesame oil

1 tablespoon rice wine vinegar

1 teaspoon chili flakes (optional)

Sesame seeds, for garnish (optional, any color)

Cilantro for garnish (optional)

  1. Pat the tofu with a paper towel or other towel until dry. (You do not need to “press” the tofu, but can choose to do so.) Cut into half-inch/1 centimeter-thick slabs. I usually make the slabs about 2 inches long and 1 inch wide (5cmx2.5cm).
  2. Heat a large frying pan or skillet on high heat and add some of the oil, then immediately turn the heat to low. Add a batch of the tofu, laying the pieces face-down on the pan.
  3. Cover and let cook for 5-6 minutes, or until brown on the pan side. Flip the pieces, put the cover back on, and cook for another 4-5 minutes, or until brown. Remove and plate. You will likely need to fry the pieces in batches. The oil can splatter, so be careful.
  4. While the tofu is cooking, mix together the scallions, ginger, garlic, soy sauce, sesame oil, rice wine vinegar, and chili flakes to make the sauce.
  5. When the tofu is done cooking, turn off the heat for the pan. Plate the tofu and pour the sauce over the tofu. Garnish with the cilantro and sesame seeds, as you wish.
  6. You can eat this dish at any temperature you like. Store leftovers in a covered container in the refrigerator for up to five days.

Thank you to David Ouziel and Timmy Woitas for participating in User Acceptance Testing for this recipe. Thank you to Adam Sperber for requesting the recipe after seeing it on my Instagram.