As you start planning spring's first picnic, these are the wines you want.
Dongbei, better known as Manchuria, stretches up toward Siberia from Beijing, where winter temperatures drop well below freezing. The food here is hearty and meaty to bulk up against the cold, and the region is home to one particular beloved dish.
These are the kitchen staples we love best, the secret weapons we keep on our shelves no matter what, because there's lot you can do with a bottle of clam juice.
Tiki culture as we know it was invented in Hollywood—it couldn't have happened anywhere else.
To the Japanese, nagashi somen—a game of running chilled noodles down a split bamboo pipe with cold water, and catching them with your chopsticks—is as evocative of summer as running through sprinklers and swimming in cool rivers. But what if it's winter in New York, and you have no bamboo or running stream? I couldn't let such trifles stop me.
Dried noodles have mostly replaced homemade udon or soba in the Japanese home kitchen, but the fresh soba tradition is alive and well in Seattle at Miyabi 45th, where chef Mutsuko Soma rolls out noodles daily to make sure they are smooth enough to slurp, strong enough to dip, and subtle enough in presentation to let the quiet flavors of buckwheat whisper in each diner's mouth.
Sherry vinegar might just be the one vinegar to always have on hand. Here's why.
Ever since giving up soda a couple months back, I've been drinking a lot of iced tea and coconut water. A lot of coconut water. After having drunk, tasted, and meticulously note-taken my way through every brand of coconut water I could find, I consider myself a sort of expert on the subject, and I've got some opinions on what makes great coconut water, and who does it the best.
Spring is in the air! Can you feel it? Because...I can't, not yet anyway. Luckily, I can see it, mainly in the form of fresh young produce on my supermarket shelves. It may not be picnic weather just yet, but the first tender asparagus and sweet peas are just starting to return to our tables, and in my book that's reason enough to celebrate. Here's a four-course brunch menu to get you started.
In the early-to-mid 20th century, Americans cooked from scratch mostly because there was no other option. They needed solutions: what to make with a brisket and not much else, or how to cope with a half a carton of milk that was smelling suspicious. You probably can't turn to Ottolenghi to use up your sour milk. But you can turn to a book that's seventy-five years old and eat exceedingly well as a result. Here are the ones that belong on your bookshelf.
The way my grandfather tells it, my great-great-grandmother always kept a pot of soup barely simmering on the back burner of the wood stove. Over time, that soup morphed and changed; she'd add trimmings of this and bits of that as the pot needed replenishing, a waste-not-want-not approach to cooking that has always resonated with me.
Chances are, it's never struck you as particularly odd that there's an entire supermarket aisle devoted to nothing but cereal. But cereal's position as America's default breakfast food is a remarkable feat, not of flavor or culture, but of marketing and packaging design. It's a century-long history of advertising, a brilliant campaign that capitalized on the intersection of industrialization, health-consciousness, and changing class attitudes that completely upended the way Americans ate. Here's how it all went down.
If you're not familiar with the numbing, tongue-tingling bite of Sichuan peppercorns, they can be a nerve-wracking ingredient to bring into your kitchen. So we asked chefs around the country to show just how versatile this spice can be, and how to incorporate into food well beyond the Sichuan standards, without the pain.
Do you remember how, when you first started drinking beer or wine, it all tasted more or less the same? Eventually you figured out which beers were more or less bitter, or what lies beyond those fruity grape flavors. And after a while you picked out a few styles that you really enjoyed. It's the same with tea. Developing a palate for it takes time—and practice.
Frozen dumplings can be flavorful, satisfying, and almost indistinguishable from fresh ones, especially when you cook them properly. Then again...they can also suck. That's why we set out to try as many nationally available brands of Chinese-style pork dumplings and potstickers as we could get our hands on, tasting each and every one to see which ones are worth your precious freezer space.