Ground Pork

When I was a child, my mom often kept me busy making wontons, putting three or four packages of the skins and a big bowl of pork-and-shrimp filling in front of me. (That’s 150 to 200 wontons!) She served the fried wontons to family and guests alike, who delighted in dipping the crispy morsels into our homemade sweet-and-sour sauce, a lighter version of the Chinese classic flavored with fish sauce instead of soy sauce.

When I visited Tokyo and Kyoto with my friend Devra a couple years back, I didn’t want to leave. I would say it was the beautiful aesthetic, the attention to design and style, the amazingly efficient trains, but really, of course, it was the food. I was especially excited when I learned how much the Japanese revere the sweet potato, one of my all-time favorite foods. In season (fall and winter), street vendors hawk stone-roasted ones—paler-fleshed and sweeter than ours. Famous cookbook author Harumi Kurihara showed me how she loves to mash miso into roasted sweet potatoes, so when I returned home, I knew that even the orange-fleshed varieties here would take beautifully to Japanese flavors. For a kick of bitterness that nicely offsets the earthy miso, use broccoli rabe instead of the broccolini.

You can find ground bean sauce, a gloopy paste of fermented soybeans, salt, sugar, and sesame oil, in Asian grocery stores or order a jar online.

A contemporary take on the ground meat–stuffed marrow. This economical supper stands or falls by the way the meat is cooked. The real flavor here comes from the caramelization of the sugars in the meat. To make the most of this, I have the oil at quite a high temperature as I add the meat, then resist the temptation to stir or turn the meat too soon. Continual movement will result in “wet” rather than crisp-edged, golden ground pork.

The deep sweetness of a roasted pepper makes it a suitable candidate for an exceptionally savory filling. I have tried several over the years: beef with cinnamon and tomato; minced chicken, lemon, and chiles; and more recently mozzarella and cherry tomatoes. Each had its merits, especially the latter with its tart juices. The latest manifestation of the stuffed pepper in my kitchen is one of highly seasoned ground pork with rosemary, Parmesan, and garlic. I think of it as the best yet.

I still remember the first time I tasted this dish. I was sixteen years old and working my first cooking job to earn some pocket money at a restaurant in my hometown that served European food. Until then, I had almost no exposure to Western cooking (I hadn’t even tried pizza yet!). This dish was a bit of a culture shock for me, but I quickly became enchanted with Italian pasta. For the recipe, you can substitute ground veal or ground pork, if you like. Any leftover sauce can be frozen for up to a month.

Everyone in Japan knows ja-ja-men, with its spicy miso and garlicky flavors. Think of it as the Japanese version of spaghetti and Bolognese sauce, a favorite at home and casual restaurants. This may sound counterintultive, but I love eating this dish on a hot summer day—its spices reenergize me.

Spice alert: this ramen is guaranteed to make you sweat. These snappy noodles are very popular in Japan, even in the summer—some people, I guess, don’t find our sultry and humid hot season sticky enough! I, for one, prefer this ramen in the winter, because its rich pork and miso broth is warm and comforting.

Like Miso Ramen (page 19), Shio Ramen hails from the northern Japanese city of Sapporo, and is a perfect antidote to a frigid winter day. Shio means “salt” in Japanese, and indeed, the clear broth has an appealing sea-salt flavor. These noodles are a relatively late addition to the ramen lineup, but they’re now popular across Japan. This is the classic recipe, which is loaded with fresh vegetables.

This ramen is a wintertime standard in Japan, and no wonder: it hails from the city of Sapporo in the far northern island of Hokkaido (home of the eponymous beer), a part of the country that’s very frigid and snowy in the winter. The hearty pork and miso-flavored broth in this dish is the perfect warm-up for even the chilliest day. Miso ramen is a relative newcomer to the noodle scene, becoming popular only since the mid-sixties. But corn, a surprising ingredient for a Japanese dish, has been grown in Hokkaido since the nineteenth century.

Mexican chorizo has a flavor all its own. It is not only easy to make, but its ingredients are also commonly found in your local supermarket. Unlike its Spanish cousin, this chorizo is not cured or smoked. And because most Mexican recipes call for the chorizo to be removed from its casing, stuffing it is not necessary. Just measure out the chorizo into small portions before storing, and it is ready whenever you are.

Meatballs are the ultimate comfort food. And while these are satisfyingly delicious, they also pack a spicy punch. The chipotles add an unexpected smoky heat to the tomato sauce, which only gets better with time. So make them in advance for a no-stress meal, and make sure to make extra so you can have some for leftovers.

Meatloaf is one of my dad’s self-professed specialties. He will spend an hour putting it together, and I swear he adds a pinch of just about every spice in the cabinet. Here we have narrowed down the list substantially, but it is still every bit as good as his. Sorry Dad.

This is the way the rest of my family makes of wonton soup. When I make this for myself, I use vegetable broth and sauté a cup of cabbage to use instead of the pork. I also like to whisk in a beaten egg before the wontons go in for my own version of egg drop–wonton soup.

Pot stickers are one of my family’s favorite appetizers. In fact, my cousins even eat them as the main course. My problem with ordering them from a restaurant is that they never have a vegetarian option, so I prefer to make them at home, where I can sauté chopped cabbage to substitute for the pork.

Thai food is full of bold juxtapositions of flavor and texture. For these crystalline dumplings, the chewy skin is made from tapioca pearls (saku in Thai). The filling of pork, peanuts, shallot, palm sugar, and fish sauce is crumbly, sweet, salty, and savory. To eat, the dumplings are wrapped in lettuce leaves with fresh herbs and hot chiles. Saku sai mu is a popular street food in Thailand; here in the States, I have purchased them at Thai markets and snack shops. Making the dumplings at home ensures freshness and availability, and the ingredients can be found at most supermarkets. Hard-core cooks may handmince pork shoulder or chicken thigh and seek out cilantro root and palm sugar from Southeast Asian markets, but ground meat (avoid superlean pork or chicken), cilantro stems, and brown sugar are terrific stand-ins.

If you like pot stickers and steamed buns, you’ll love these spongy-crisp panfried treats from Shanghai, where typically they are cooked in humongous shallow pans (much like large paella pans) with wooden lids. These buns are made of yeast dough that is filled with an aromatic pork mixture and then fried and steamed in a skillet. Cooking under cover with a bit of water delivers plenty of moisture to puff up the buns. Ground beef chuck or chicken thigh can stand in for the pork in this recipe. A bāozi is a mini bāo (bun) and for that reason, I like to keep these true to their name and shape small ones. However, you can elect to form sixteen medium-size (2 3/4-inch) buns. Roll the dough circles out to 3 1/4 inches in diameter and use about 4 teaspoons of filling for each bun; increase the water and cooking time a tad.

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.

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.

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.

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.