Daikon

When we visited Kyoto, a few hours' ride from Tokyo on the famous Bullet train, we found a little restaurant in the heart of town that won us over with the names of dishes listed on the menu: Firecracker Tofu, Pickled Mixed Radish Salad, and the mysterious sounding Okonomiyaki. The chefs were clearly having fun at this place, and we were blown away by the depth of flavor they achieved with such simple preparations. We threw back some sake and tore through plate after plate of food. This salad is inspired by that meal, featuring quirky sea beans (a seaweed-like swamp/beach vegetable) and the haunting flavor of shiso (Japanese mint). You can find fresh sea beans at a gourmet market. If they're not available, substitute pencil-thin asparagus. Look for shiso in Asian markets, but substitute fresh cilantro if you can't find it.

Not only is this salad refreshing, it also contains many ingredients valued for their cleansing properties. Its fresh flavor is especially enticing to me in the spring, but it’s welcome all year round; in fact, I recommend this salad frequently throughout the book. I often make it when I want a refreshing contrast to a hearty, spicy, or bold dish.

The word daikon actually comes from two Japanese words, dai (large) and kon (root). And that’s just what it is. Daikon radish, a large white root vegetable, is often served grated in small quantities with Asian meals, since it’s considered a good digestive aid. I often combine it with one or two other vegetables—if one, that would be carrots, as presented here, and if two, I’ll also grate any broccoli stem I’ve saved in the fridge. It’s a refreshing little salad that goes with just about any kind of meal.

Here’s another good way to utilize root vegetables raw; the dressing adds a rich, delicious flavor.

My love of rice paper began in childhood with candies that came packaged in colorful boxes, mostly pinkish and with children pictured gleefully jumping. Inside were gummy candies, chewable like jujubes, only softer. The fun part was unwrapping the outer paper and getting to the inside wrapping. At first it seemed like another layer of paper, a bit stiff like cellophane. But then you would pop the candy into your mouth and let the wrapping hydrate until soft enough to chew. I always found it a thrill “eating” my way from seemingly inedible paper to edible candy. So it is with rice paper wrappers for Vietnamese spring rolls” What seems at first glance a large plastic disk not for consumption, with hydration becomes supple enough to enfold all manner of comestibles.

Essentially a simplified sauerkraut and a very light pickle. Use good-quality soy sauce and serve this as a side dish with Japanese or other Asian food. Do not try to make this in very hot weather; fifty or sixty degrees is ideal. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: any mixture of vegetables, as in the variation.

You can use this technique for radish (especially daikon), eggplant, zucchini, even cabbage; salting time will vary, but in every case you will wind up with an ultra-crisp vegetable that is great as a snack, a garnish, or an addition to salads and soups.

This Japanese spin on coleslaw is a refreshing salad, and serving it with crispy fried tofu coated with sesame seeds makes for a great, quick dinner. Even though the tofu is fried, you only need a little bit of oil, so it’s still a nice light meal.

The Vietnamese name for this fast pickle literally translates as “sour stuff.” Although it doesn’t sound enticing, it is exactly what you want to serve whenever you need a simple garnish (or side) that is tart, sweet, and crunchy. I keep a jar of it in the refrigerator for stuffing baguette sandwiches (page 34), for serving alongside grilled meats such as Grilled Garlicky Five-Spice Pork Steaks (page 143), and for adding to Duck and Chinese Egg Noodle Soup (page 220). Some people like the vegetables on the sweet side, but I prefer a tangy flavor and therefore use less sugar. When selecting daikons, look for evenly shaped, firm, smooth, unblemished roots.

Oxtail is a favorite ingredient in countries as diverse as Jamaica, France, and Korea. When you taste it, it’s not hard to understand why. To release oxtail’s rich, sublime flavors, though, you must slowly braise it for hours until the meat is absolutely tender. It’s worth the wait.

When I first tasted this Shanghai specialty in Vancouver a few years ago, I wondered how it could have escaped me so long. The stupendous filling is remarkably simple, with a mild bite from the raw daikon radish, smokiness from the ham, and richness from the sesame oil. The pastries can be shaped as rounds with an arty spiral pattern of layers or as oblongs with a handsome linear pattern of layers. They are a classic Chinese banquet morsel, but there’s no need to wait for a special occasion. Enjoy them as a snack, accompanied by other dumplings or a clear soup.

This soup is very warming, and more filling than more common, very brothy miso soups.

Here’s one for a party: Roast a large piece of beef and feed a big crowd. If your gathering is in the backyard, toss the onions in the marinade and grill them until they’re a little bit charred. But if you are cooking the onions indoors, roast them in a cast-iron skillet until they start to caramelize. The radish slaw—a mix of daikon and red radishes with a little bit of horseradish (a traditional condiment for roast beef)—contributes crunchy, spicy coolness. The mayo, though, is the genius of the sandwich. When you order a roast beef sandwich at a restaurant, you always hope it will come au jus—everyone loves to dip into those delicious flavors. Well, as ’wichcraft sandwiches are often eaten on the go, we let the beef rest after we roast it and then use the drippings in the mayo. You get the flavor of the dip without the drip (although, admittedly, this is still a three- or four-napkin sandwich).

When we think of kimchi we tend to picture the classic kind found in Asian supermarkets, which is made primarily with Napa cabbage stained red from the chili powder and pungent with garlic. Interestingly, although that is indisputably the most popular variation, kimchi can be made with a wide array of vegetables and spices, with regional variations that affect the ingredients used and levels of heat and spice. Here we’ve used red cabbage for two reasons. The first is because we like its sweet flavor and slightly sturdy texture. The second, more practical, reason is that these fermented pickles are generally deemed ready when enough lactic acid is produced to change the pH from 6.5 to approximately 3.5. Red cabbage juice changes color at this pH and becomes a bright reddish-purple, giving you a visual cue when fermentation is complete. Kimchi is a surprisingly good condiment for grilled hot dogs. It is a great way to doctor up packaged ramen at home. In place of coleslaw on a sandwich, it can add an unexpected kick to anything from corned beef on rye to pulled pork on soft white bread. Its heat and tang are wonderful for cutting through rich ingredients, and as a substitute for sauerkraut in choucroute, it is utterly delicious.

These spring rolls are so fresh tasting that they’re addictive. The beet turns the noodles a pretty pink—way cool. Wear gloves when you cut up the beet so your hands don’t turn purple—not a festive look.

David makes these pickles to be enjoyed right after seasoning, while they are still vibrant and crunchy.

Pretty-in-pink salmon is loaded with heart-healthy omega-3 fatty acids.

The difference between good and bad tempura is the batter—the goal is a light, crisp coating that doesn't absorb oil when fried. There are several important steps for achieving this texture: 1). Don't overmix the batter. When you stir in the water, mix very gently just until the dry ingredients are moistened. Don't attempt to work out the lumps, or the batter will become heavy. 2). Be sure the water you mix in is very cold. This will make a cold batter that will remain light when fried. 3). Mix the batter just before frying. Making it ahead will produce a heavy coating. 4). Dry the shrimp and veggies well before dipping them in the batter. This will help the batter adhere. 5). Be sure the oil is the proper temperature. If it's not hot enough, the batter will absorb oil before it cooks and the result will be greasy tempura. Tempura is traditionally served with boiled soba noodles and shredded carrots or daikon radish.

"Koreans are short rib masters," says Chou, who lived and cooked in Korea for several years. "It's their favorite cut." While some ribs are sliced thin, marinated, and grilled, others are reserved for stews and soups. Kalbi jjim, one of the country’s best-known concoctions, shares some ingredients with a European beef stew—namely, carrots, onions, and potatoes—but here the brothy, slightly sweet dish gets its robust undertones from dried mushrooms, soy sauce, fish sauce, and molasses, plus a dollop of hot red-pepper paste. Though it is rustic-looking, the meat's tenderness and the broth’s amazing depth make clear why this dish is a national treasure.