Pork

The Chinese repertoire has many kinds of rolls—savory, sweet, thin, fat, fried, and unfried—and they’re all hard to pass up. The Cantonese fried version is bigger than its Shanghai kin, and it is encased in a large version of a wonton skin. Cantonese spring rolls, also known as egg rolls, have gotten a bad rap in America because they’re often greasy, overly doughy, and bland. However, when made from thin skins and a savory-sweet mixture of fresh vegetables and meat, Cantonese spring rolls reveal their worth as a splendid snack. Resembling gold bars and symbolizing wealth, prosperity, and good fortune, spring rolls are savored during the Lunar New Year, which is called the Spring Festival in Chinese. Cantonese spring rolls often combine pork and shrimp, but I prefer to keep the focus on tasty roast pork, which is best when homemade. Finely chopping and shredding the ingredients is time consuming, but you want the filling to be compact so that it fills out the long shape of the roll. Lighten your workload by making the filling and skins in advance.

There are numerous fillings for fried spring rolls, and this one is my take on an old-fashioned Shanghai filling. The surf-and-turf combination of pork and shrimp is punctuated by earthy bamboo shoots and shiitake mushrooms. Whereas the Cantonese filling on page 79 is savory-sweet (and can be used here), this filling is more robust and offers wonderful depth, so much so that dunking them in a touch of vinegar is all you need to create a wonderful mouthful. Most spring roll fillings are cooked first because the frying is fast, and you want to ensure that the meat is cooked and that there’s a minimum of moisture, so the skins don’t soften up too much as they sit once out of the fryer. When preparing this and other similar fillings, cut the main ingredients so that they match in size and roll up well. I typically buy pork tenderloin steaks and freeze them for 10 to 15 minutes to make them easier to cut. Canned bamboo shoots work well so long as they first are boiled briefly to eliminate any tinny flavor. Spring rolls are great as a snack but also terrific for a light lunch along with a green salad.

These open-faced dumplings are a requisite part of the Cantonese dim sum repertoire. In contrast to their dainty size and frilly edge, shāomai (siu mai in Cantonese) are packed with a pork filling that’s typically punctuated by earthy mushrooms and crunchy water chestnuts. The dumplings here are made from thin wonton skins that have been cut into circles. Don’t confuse them with the Jiangnan version from the area between Shanghai and Nanjing, which is made from hot-water dough wrappers and filled with a sticky rice mixture. Both go by the name shāomai, which literally means “cook and sell,” reflecting their perennial popularity. Feel free to add chopped raw shrimp to the filling (cut back on the vegetables) for variety. Any of the wonton fillings can be used, too; but do remember to double the pork and shrimp filling on page 41 or quadruple the shrimp filling on page 70, adding a beaten egg white in each case to insure a smoother texture. The shape of siu mai enables them to hold a lot more filling than other dumplings of the same size.

Most people think of wontons as being fried and in soup broth, but they may also be served like Italian ravioli in a light coating of splendid sauce. Here, the sauce is nutty, spicy chile oil punctuated with fresh garlic and soy sauce. Feel free to dial the heat up or down by varying the amount of chile oil. The full amount is definitely not for the faint of heart. If you have semi refined, cold-pressed peanut oil on hand (the kind employed for making the chile oil on page 216), use it instead of the canola oil for an extra roasty dimension. These wontons make a terrific snack or an elegant, eye-opening starter. If you can, substitute the greens below with 1/4 cup thawed and well-squeezed shepherd’s purse, a mild vegetable that’s sold frozen at Chinese-American markets.

I’ve met few people who dislike fried wontons. They are irresistible: they fry up to a wonderful light crispness, staying true to their Cantonese name, which literally means “swallowing clouds.” Wrapping the filling in a thin skin is the secret to generating such an ethereal quality. Most commercial wonton skins are, sadly, on the thick side and turn a bit chewy after frying. For better results, look for Hong Kong–style thin wonton skins at an Asian market or, better yet, make your own at home. Fried wontons are most often enjoyed dipped in sweet and sour sauce, but they can also be served in a bowl covered by hot broth; the skins turn chewy and contribute a delightful richness to the soup.

“If I can’t have sushi, I must have gyōza,” says my friend Makiko Tsuzuki, a self-described gyōza otaku (dumpling fanatic). The Japanese love pot stickers, ordering them at ramen noodle shops, patronizing gyōza restaurants, and visiting the Gyōza Stadium food theme park in Tokyo. They consider the dumplings essential to their cuisine, despite the fact that gyōza were popularized only after World War II, when Japanese soldiers returning from China brought back their taste and knack for making Chinese dumplings. Gyōza is the Japanese pronunciation of jiaozi. Like their Chinese parent, gyōza can be boiled, steamed, fried, or served in soup (see Variation). Pan frying is the most popular cooking method, which is why gyōza are commonly known as pot stickers. The filling strays from Chinese tradition by including a kick of garlic, a touch of sugar, a dose of black pepper, and a smidgen of sake. Sesame oil has a lesser role in the filling but a bigger role in pan frying the dumplings. Sesame oil has the same smoking point as butter and thus cooking with it is fine.Gyōza may be dipped in vinegary soy dipping sauce or biting hot mustard.

Bursting with flavor, these northern Chinese dumplings are a specialty of Beijing. Dating as far back as the late Han Dynasty (25 to 220 c.e.), plump boiled morsels such as these are members of the jiaozi family of dumplings, which include pan fried guōtiē (page 33) and steamed zhēngjiao (page 35). Jiaozi are not just for a modest snack or meal, they are a must-have for northern Chinese Lunar New Year celebrations. Their shape resembles gold ingots, harbingers of good fortune. Easy to make for a crowd, shuıjiao (which means “water dumpling”) are especially good hot from the pot and tumbled in a soy-vinegar dipping sauce piked with chile oil. Pork and napa cabbage comprise the classic jiaozi filling, but you can use one of the lamb, beef, vegetable, or fish fillings on the following pages. Or substitute chopped shrimp or reconstituted dried shiitake mushrooms for half of the pork.

Sorry, guys—no “In a Pinch” quick fix here. If you want proper pulled pork, you gotta give it the time it needs. An overnight brine bath helps keep it moist through the long, slow, 12-hour journey to porcine perfection. Serve the pulled pork on hamburger buns, drizzled with your favorite barbecue sauce or more Sriracha, if you feel so inclined.

These little breakfast treats really put their ready-made store-bought counterparts to shame, and they couldn’t be easier to make. If you are watching your waistline or just aren’t partial to pork, ground chicken or turkey can certainly be used in its place. But with those leaner meats, exercise extra caution to avoid overcooking the patties and drying them out.

Larb is traditional Thai comfort food. The mint adds a clean jolt of flavor to this casserole-type meal. My cousin Abi lived in Thailand for a time and helped me fine-tune my version of this classic dish. Typically, the meat and rice are served over raw cabbage, but we think this style is pretty tasty as well. You can use serrano, Anaheim, or almost any other kind of chile pepper if you can’t find a jalapeño. Of course, your meal will be as spicy as your chile. Consider adding 1 tablespoon of chopped fresh basil or cilantro to the mint mixture for a slightly different taste.

My kids love the sweet and spicy flavors of this meal. The pork together with the potatoes, carrots, and green beans offers a kid-friendly, well-rounded dinner loaded with nutrients and low in fat. Look for boneless center-cut pork loin, 1/2 inch thick. Or substitute a turkey tenderloin, a salmon fillet, or even chicken for the pork.

Feel free to make this recipe using ground turkey or pork instead of beef, or even meat-substitute crumbles. You could also use a tenderloin cut of meat. Look for peeled and chopped butternut squash in your supermarket vegetable aisle.

Adobo, or roasted, pork is a staple in Latin America and some parts of Southeast Asia. This is just one version of the Latin American-style dish, made easier as a Glorious One-Pot Meal. Replace the rice and broth with 3/4 cup of quinoa and 1 cup of broth for a more authentic South American meal. Ancho chiles are actually dried poblano chiles, which are rich in flavor and popular for cooking. They’ve been described as looking and tasting like prunes, though certainly with more of a bite. Anaheim chiles are a milder substitute. You can use boneless frozen pork chops without increasing the cooking time. However, if they are frozen with the bone in, you may need to allow ten extra minutes in the oven. You can also substitute flank steaks or chicken pieces with good results. I like to add a sliced fresh tomato to this recipe. Layer the sliced tomato on top if there is still space in the pot after adding the green pepper.