Vegan

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.

The perfect midsummer dish, one that can be served hot or cold. Convert it to a pasta sauce by tossing it, hot, with cooked pasta, a couple of raw eggs, and some freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: Any summer squash.

A simple braised dish that brings a new look to root vegetables. Serve with stir-fries or with plain grilled or broiled fish. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: turnips and radishes of any type will fill in nicely for the carrots or parsnips.

If you’re going to the trouble of making dosa—all the soaking, pureeing, and overnight resting—it’s sensible to make the amount called for in the preceding recipe (plus it’s not like 4 cups of rice and 1 cup of dal cost much more than half those amounts). But it’s unlikely you’ll have the griddle stamina or appetite to make it through all that batter. Hence, uttapam—a fancy version of dosa. These are perfect for lunch—I usually fry a couple and eat them with whatever leftovers there are from the dosa meal the night before. And although it might be untraditional, I season them with a pinch of chaat masala (page 594), but feel free to omit it if it doesn’t appeal or you don’t have it on hand. If you’re using a pancake griddle, you should be able to cook two uttapam at a time; or you could have two nonstick griddles going at the same time.

When you want a rice dish that screams “northern Italy,” but you don’t want something as rich (or as much work) as risotto, try throwing together this Italian rice salad, which was first made for me outside of Milan, served alongside a simply roasted chicken. You could add leftover chicken, shredded cheese, or other more substantial foods to make this into a meal, but it’s a wonderful side dish.

Tabbouleh, the well-known salad that uses bulgur as its base (usually; there’s also a rice version, which I’ve included as a variation), should be dominated by its herbs, mostly parsley but also mint. You can prepare the bulgur ahead of time and toss in the herbs right before serving.

Bulgur, which is precooked cracked wheat (see page 525), needs only to be reconstituted to be ready to eat. Usually this is done with water or stock, but here freshly made tomato juice is the liquid. (I had no idea what I was tasting when I first had this, but fortunately it was explained to me so I could experiment.) The nuts add a welcome crunchiness to this wonderful salad.

A better-keeping bread than the standard baguette or boule, largely because it contains olive oil, and an easy one to fancify, with the addition of olives and rosemary.

Not unlike the preceding recipe, this one, too, is best with fresh, firm small eggplants. Serve as a starter or side dish, especially in summer.

Also called pide or pitta, the now-familiar flatbread of the Middle East—pocket and all—is easy to make at home. As with French or Italian Bread (page 570), you can speed up or slow down the time it takes to make these. It’s best to equip your oven with a baking (pizza) stone, but they can also be baked successfully on cookie sheets. Even better is to use a heavy skillet.

The basic European bread, which requires more patience than work. It’s eminently flexible, because at any time you can refrigerate the dough and retard the process for hours, even overnight. Many people, in fact, believe that the slower you go with bread, the better. So it’s not only acceptable but preferable to make the dough at night, leave it in a cool place to rise for 8 or 10 hours, then proceed with the recipe, taking all day—if you like—to finish it. So, this recipe is written as if you will proceed from start to finish, but you don’t have to do so.

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.

Bruschetta is toast. Usually with olive oil. Often grilled. But no more than that—or not much more. You need coarse, crusty bread; the preceding recipe will give you the kind you want, but any peasant bread will do. The amount of garlic you use is up to you. You might split a single clove and rub it on the slices of bread after they’re toasted; or you might mash a few cloves and smear them on, which is obviously stronger.

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.

In southern Italy, where the flatbread called pizza originated, it was traditionally kept very, very simple, topped with as little as salt, olive oil, and rosemary or a few tomato slices and a bit of fresh mozzarella. Now, of course, you see American-style pizzas on the streets of Rome. The recipes here, then, are a bit of a throwback—very simple and very real. Even simpler if you use a food processor; you can knead the dough by hand, of course, if that’s your preference, but the machine is far easier and more efficient and, in fact, does a better job, at least for most of us. Be sure to see the recipes for Pissaladière (page 45) and Tarte Flambé (page 44), both of which are based on this dough.

In many southern Italian homes, this is daily bread, the closest thing to the prototypical pizza. I vividly remember the first time I tasted it (in Rome)—it blew my mind. Please try it. Not only is it delicious, but it’s the launching pad for making any other pizza you like (see the variations for a couple of ideas). For this to be most successful, your oven should be equipped with a pizza stone, and you should make the dough directly on a peel. However, it’s almost as good on a baking sheet, and I give directions for both.

A delicious way to prepare spinach ahead and present it beautifully. This is a place where perfectly fresh spinach will really strut its stuff. (You could use frozen spinach for this preparation, but it will not taste as good.) For a really stunning look, roll the cold cooked spinach in a bamboo sushi-rolling mat, then slice the log on the diagonal before dipping it in the sesame seeds.

Don’t be deceived by this salad’s simplicity: the lemon dressing and fresh herbs bring out the complex flavors of the tomatoes and onions, and if the ingredients are good, the results are practically miraculous. Note the extremely useful technique of “killing” the onions—as they say in Turkey—which you might try whenever you use raw onions, to tame their harshness. You can make this salad an hour ahead of time, refrigerate, and toss again before serving.

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 crunchy mixed vegetable salad given a twist by the addition of bread. Feel free to improvise with whatever is in your garden or kitchen. The key to this salad is not the choice of vegetables but slicing them as thinly as possible. Use a mandoline if you have one.