Newsletters featuring recipes that hit close to home (I Made the GIFS, too!). Written while I was Senior Editor at Panna.
Coda alla Vaccinara
Roman Braised Oxtail
Hello, are you a carnivore? Then keep reading. Not to shoo any vegheads out there—but if you’re down to chomp on a vertebra, slow-braised in rich tomato sauce, Roman-style, then we’re cut from the same coda.
I grew up in a kosher home: meat was more expensive and eating it was an event. So, for my 26th birthday, I wanted to make my favorite Panna recipe for my family. Plus, there’s no better way to celebrate your own mortality than by munching some bones.
I hopped a bus to Hasidic Williamsburg, found a kosher butcher that stocked oxtail, and brought it to the burbs to cook my birthday feast.
This isn’t a meat-lover’s dish in the sense that a steak is—it’s a cross between a stew and the chewy tendon I love in a classic Pho. A low oven tenderizes an otherwise tough cut into sticky, collagen-rich morsels you’ll need to gnaw at (the fun part, if you ask me). The crushed tomatoes and vegetables become beefy and caramelized.
My dad dunked some bread into the sauce: It had Old World flavor, he remarked. My mom, usually the more intrepid meat-eater, helped herself to a big piece. She wanted the ragù with pasta the next day. My sister loved the celery matchsticks, which are nestled in towards the end. They confit in the tasty fat that bubbles to the top, and freshen each bite.
I’m craving it, writing this. If you’ve tried it already, you probably are, too. Never made Roman oxtail? Our recipe will tell the tale.
Coda and out,
Aliza
Some starchy serving suggestions:
Som Tam
Thai Papaya Salad
I first tasted som tam in Bangkok, in 2012. Juicy tomatoes, chiles, garlic, roasted peanuts, snappy long beans, the spongy crunch of unripe papaya—all lovingly muddled to extract a spicy, sweet, and sour dressing—but something was missing.
That’s because I was sharing it with my vegetarian then-boyfriend. A vegetarian’s trust typically rests in salads—but not in Thailand, where briny sea creatures add funk and salt to all kinds of dishes. Of course, I’d traveled halfway around the world to taste just that.
Working with Andy Ricker last year introduced me to a side of Thailand I hadn't experienced on that trip. The chef is a stickler when it comes to replicating the country’s flavors and techniques, so when I tasted his som tam, I was floored: it was vibrant and harmonious, something I could eat on repeat. Papaya salad isn’t a seafood dish, but fish sauce and sundried shrimp round out the bright acidity and sweetness. Ocean funk is the last Power Ranger to unite the flavor trust.
Replicating the salad for a dinner party required me to venture to my favorite Asian supermarket for ingredients that are now pantry staples. Once you stock up on palm sugar, fish sauce, dried shrimp, and tamarind paste (which all have impressive shelf lives), making som tam is easy.
I’ll confess, I’ve taken some shortcuts. I don’t have a Thai mortar and pestle, so I improvise with a meat tenderizer handle and stainless steel bowl. And when I’m too lazy to hunt for a green papaya (pretty much always), I toss cucumber ribbons or shredded cabbage with the same lightly muddled mix-ins—it’s still fantastic. As long as you have the essential flavors, this salad is dynamite, and will definitely perk up your taste buds when December doldrums hit.
Peace, love, and fermented fish,
Aliza
Serving suggestions:
Dal
Indian Lentil Stew
As a food-obsessed kid who was spoon-fed Bible stories, there was one that always irked me: Esau selling his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of lentil stew. Seriously, lentils? I could understand a crock of meaty chili, even chicken soup. But as the eldest child, I couldn't imagine relinquishing my rank for some lame ol’ legumes.
Fast forward 15 years, when I lived in Varanasi, India for a summer during college. I probably spent more time hunched over retching in bathrooms than I did at my internship. Weak and desperate for anything that could soothe my white-girl guts, I turned to dal. Piping hot and smooth, flavorful but not too spicy, it was a consoling dose of nutrients when I needed it most. Dal was my salvation.
Suvir Saran's recipe is similarly sublime. Until I worked at Panna, I’d never made dal myself. Not only is Chef Saran, in my opinion, the jolliest chef on our site, but the way he turns dry, yellow pebbles into a creamy, rich, nourishing pot of gold is nothing short of alchemy. The spiced ghee (clarified butter) drizzle is heavenly and dramatic. Lentils cooked this way aren’t lamentable, but luxurious, especially when you’re craving comfort. If they could change the course of a nation in the Bible and bring my belly back to health in India, then they'll definitely help you brave the coming cold this season.
Stay cozy this fall,
Aliza
Serving suggestions:
I love swirling in plain yogurt, buttermilk, or kefir for some cool tang
Chinese Dumplings
By Anita Lo
There are some dishes I cook alone. Patiently paddling a risotto is a mesmerizing meditation, and I fry solo to spare guests the spattering. Dumplings are different: they bring the party. Well, I guess it depends how you define a party. For me, sipping whatever my friends pick up and stuffing wrappers with gingery pork-shrimp filling is a pre-game for the dozens of dumplings we’ll devour once we’re pie-eyed.
Reasons to host a dumpling klatch: it's hands-on fun, awakens the competitive spirit (someone’s pleats ultimately win "Best in Show"), and whatever you don’t cook will freeze beautifully. (Yes, friends, you are the Keebler elves fueling my weeknight dumpling dependence.)
I love them potsticker-style, but with a crowd, it’s easier to steam. I’ve learned to save cabbage leaves from the filling recipe to line a colander that fits snugly into a stock pot: a giant makeshift steamer. Does that count as a party trick? If the reward is juicy dumplings, my friends will let me have that one.
Serving Suggestions: