Stir, Sizzle, Bake

Sometimes, you’re lucky enough to know you’re experiencing a defining moment as it takes place. Maybe you’re in your kitchen, rolling out a circle of dough, and then placing it in the pan and watching the disc bubble up, blister, and become bread right before your eyes. Then you tear into the probably-too-hot-but-who-cares flatbread, and you think: I did it! I made naan, from scratch, for the first time…and it’s holy-mackerel delicious.

Maybe for you, it was something else. For me, though, this naan moment was real. So I’ve got to thank chef Caroline Fidanza of the Brooklyn sandwich shop Saltie, whose recipe I was testing that day in my kitchen. While I kept her ratio of dry-to-wet ingredients and cooking method, I added whole-wheat to the mix and opted for labneh as my wet ingredient, which, although referred to as a soft cheese, is more like an extra-thick yogurt. To give my naan some New York City personality and flavor—by way of the Middle East—I threw za’atar into my dough. When you bite into the blistered, hot bread, it’s as though you’re eating a NYC slice, without the sauce, cheese, or mess.

1 (16-ounce) container labneh (1⅔ packed cups), or 1⅓ cups plain low-fat or regular kefir yogurt drink (see Note)

1 In a large bowl, whisk together the flours, kosher salt, baking powder, and za’atar. Using a wooden spoon, stir the labneh into the dry ingredients. When the dough becomes too stiff to mix with a spoon, dust your hands with flour and begin to knead the dough in the bowl, continuing until the ingredients are thoroughly combined. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it ferment in the refrigerator for at least 1 hour and up to 2 days.

2 Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high, so it gets very hot. Meanwhile, shape the dough: Dust your work surface liberally with flour (make sure you have enough on hand as you go, because the dough will be very sticky). Shape the dough into 10 balls, 3 to 3½-inches in diameter. Use a floured rolling pin to roll each ball into a circle about 6 inches in diameter. Stack the circles as you go, separating them with wax paper to prevent them from sticking together.

3 Once the skillet is smoking, coat it with 1 tablespoon of the oil. Pick up a dough circle, stretch it out a bit more, shake off any excess flour, and place it in the skillet. Cook the naan for 1 to 2 minutes, until it starts to bubble. Drizzle ½ teaspoon of the oil over the top of the naan, then use tongs to flip it. Cook the naan for 1 to 2 minutes more, until its underside is blistered and speckled with brown spots and there is no visible raw flour. (If you’re unsure whether it’s ready, watch the flatbread’s edges; when they start to curl up and brown, like a pancake, it’s done.) If the naan is getting too crispy or starting to burn, reduce the heat to medium.

4 Repeat with the remaining dough, adding 1 teaspoon of oil to the pan between one naan and the next. Stack the finished flatbreads on a plate as you go to keep them warm, sprinkling each with a pinch of flake salt.

5 The naan should be eaten warm. Wrapped in plastic, it will keep at room temperature for up to 2 days. Before serving, reheat it in a 350°F oven until it’s warmed through.

NOTE Labneh is a strained yogurt, a Middle Eastern fermented milk product. If you can’t find labneh, you can replace it with kefir, which is now available in major supermarket chains across the country, and has a similar texture and acidic punch.

One night I stopped by a friend’s dinner party in Brooklyn and found food editor Alison Roman making a distractingly aromatic naan that channeled her love of garlic bread. I immediately wanted to do the same. She told me she incorporated the allium into the dough, but I never had a chance to ask her how, or to taste the results, because I had to leave for another dinner.

A few months later, I tested a recipe from San Francisco chef Brandon Jew that included a garlic purée unlike anything I’d ever had—silky smooth, almost like finessed mashed potatoes in texture. In his technique, the garlic is cooked low and slow in enough oil to cover, yielding a result that’s better even than roasted garlic. For my roti, I use butter instead of oil to create a garlicky ghee that goes into the dough and is brushed onto the roti. You could sprinkle the bread with sea salt and be more than satisfied. But the real WHOA effect hits if, right before you take your first bite, you spread a purée made with that butter-braised garlic directly on the warm, floppy bread.

1 Place the garlic and butter in a medium saucepan and bring to a simmer over medium-low heat. Slowly simmer the mixture, skimming the white foam off the top as you go, until the melted butter takes on a clear, deeper, more concentrated golden hue and ceases to sputter, the milk solids at the bottom of the pan begin to brown, and the garlic cloves are soft enough to mash with a spoon with very little pressure. This may take up to 1½ hours.

2 Strain the ghee into a storage container, discarding any sediment and reserving the garlic cloves in a separate container. You should have at least 2 cups of ghee. Set aside to cool.

3 Sift the kamut and 1 teaspoon of the table salt together into a large bowl. Add 2 tablespoons of the cooled ghee and use your fingers to incorporate it into the dry ingredients, rubbing it through the flour so it’s evenly distributed. Slowly add the water, using your hand to work it in, until the dough comes together in a ball. I use the swirl-n-grab method: one hand sifts through and grabs the contents of the bowl in a circular motion while the other slowly pours in the water. You should find yourself grabbing larger and larger clumps as the dough comes together.

4 Gather the dough into a ball and begin kneading it; if it needs more water, add it by the teaspoon, adding less than you think is necessary so you don’t overdo it. (If you add too much, and the dough becomes wet, coat your hands with the flour and knead it into the dough.) Knead the dough for about 7 minutes, until your bowl and hands are free of any dough or flour and the dough itself is smooth and supple. Cover the bowl with a damp kitchen towel and set aside to rest for 30 minutes.

5 Meanwhile, purée the cooked garlic in a food processor, incorporating 1 teaspoon of water to stabilize the emulsion. With the motor running, drizzle in ¼ cup of the ghee, little by little, until combined. (Alternatively, you can purée the garlic in a bowl using a fork, then whisk in the ghee.) Transfer the purée to a bowl and season with the remaining ¼ teaspoon table salt. Add the basil and stir to combine. Taste the purée: if you prefer a milder garlic flavor or your garlic has any bitterness, stir in a small amount (about ¼ teaspoon) of sugar. Give it another taste, adjusting the seasonings as needed. Set it aside and keep warm.

6 Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high, so it gets very hot. Meanwhile, shape the rotis: Divide the dough into 10 equal portions and, using your palms, roll each into a ball. Cover the dough balls with a damp cloth. Working one at a time and keeping the others covered, place a ball on a well-floured work surface and, with a rolling pin, roll it out into a small circle. Flip it over and roll it a bit more, repeating this action until you have a thin 6-inch disc.

7 Place the rolled-out dough on the hot skillet. After a few seconds, when you start to see the dough bubble up, use the back of a spoon or a pastry brush to gently swipe ¼ teaspoon of the ghee on its surface. Flip it over and swipe more ghee onto the other side. Flip the dough again and cook for 1 to 2 minutes. Meanwhile, roll out your next ball of dough, making sure to liberally dust your work surface with flour as you go.

8 Flip the roti in the skillet and give it another 1 to 2 minutes. Use your pastry brush to lightly apply pressure when it puffs up, or else try running the back of your spoon over the roti a few times as it cooks to encourage the bread to rise and bubble.

9 When both sides are nicely speckled with brown spots, transfer the roti to a napkin-lined basket or deep serving platter, smear another ½ teaspoon of the ghee over the top, sprinkle with a pinch of the flake salt, and cover it with a kitchen towel to keep it warm and prevent it from drying out.

10 Repeat with the remaining dough. You will need to add extra ghee to the skillet a few times throughout the course of cooking the rotis. If the skillet starts to overheat and smoke or the rotis burn, reduce the heat to medium and add ¼ teaspoon of ghee to the pan before adding the next disc of dough.

11 Serve the rotis hot; you can slather each one with ½ teaspoon of the garlic-basil purée before serving, or serve the purée on the side as a condiment. Though they’re best eaten right away, you can stack the rotis, separated by wax paper, wrap them in aluminum foil, and refrigerate them for up to a day or freeze them for up to 3 months. Reheat them in the foil at 425°F for 15 to 20 minutes. Any unused ghee will keep in a sealed container in a dry, cool place for up to 2 months. Stored in a sealed container, the garlic purée will keep in the refrigerator for 3 days.

NOTE Similar to atta, the durum wheat flour traditionally used for roti, ancient kamut, has a notably buttery character, which is even more appropriate for this particular recipe.

On the Grind

Toasting and grinding your own spices, seeds, and nuts make a huge difference in the quality and intensity of flavor in your baked goods. You can toast them right in your cast-iron skillet. Preheat the pan on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high. Once the pan is hot, pour the seeds and/or spices in, shaking the pan so they spread out and don’t stick together. Toast them, shaking the skillet every few seconds, until they begin to brown and release their oils, emitting a concentrated, heady smell.

Time will vary depending on the quantity and size of the items and on how brown you like them to get. When they begin to release their aroma, they’re ready. If you like a more deeply toasted result, wait for that scent to intensify, but watch them carefully so they don’t burn, which can happen quickly. For a sense of timing, follow the chart below.

WHAT TO TOAST	HOW LONG
2 tablespoons Sichuan peppercorns	3 minutes
½ teaspoon sesame seeds	2–3 minutes
1 teaspoon cumin seeds	2 minutes
¼ cup pumpkin seeds	3 minutes
1 teaspoon ground cardamom pods	3 minutes
¼ cup pine nuts	3 minutes
2 cups cashew nuts	4–5 minutes

This Sri Lankan breakfast skillet bread, which is typically served with a chile paste or coconut sambal (a spiced relish), has a few alterations. First, for some extra nuttiness, I substitute spelt for half the standard white flour. Next, I add some cardamom to the batter; it’s irresistible when paired with coconut. I also swipe coconut butter on the hot rounds when they come off the skillet. And then I eat them—just so. Keep in mind that this is an extremely thick batter. Some might even call it a dough, although it would be a very wet one. Don’t let these categories trip you up. If you do, you might prevent yourself from pouring a bit of maple syrup over the rotis and eating them like pancakes, American style. That would be a shame.

½ teaspoon ground freshly toasted green cardamom pods or store-bought ground cardamom

1 Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium so it gets very hot. Meanwhile, in a medium bowl, whisk together the coconut, flours, salt, and cardamom. Form a well in the center of the dry ingredients and add the warm water. Using a wooden spoon, stir until a thick, coarse batter forms.

2 Melt 2 teaspoons of the coconut oil in the hot skillet and tilt to coat. Using a tablespoon or medium cookie scoop, drop 4 heaping portions of batter into the pan. Wait a few seconds for the batter to become spreadable, then flatten each glob of batter with a spatula to form discs about 3 inches in diameter and ¼ inch thick.

3 Cook the rotis for about 4 minutes on the first side, until toasty brown. Flip them over and rotate them 180 degrees clockwise, for more even doneness. Cook them for 3 minutes more so both sides are equally browned.

4 Transfer the rotis to a serving plate. While they’re still hot, spread coconut butter on each. Repeat with the rest of the batter. Eat them right away, with maple syrup, if desired.

NOTE Most Asian groceries have grated coconut in the freezer section. Bring it to room temperature before using it in this recipe.

This Moroccan pancake is a more challenging stovetop bread to make because it’s one of the thinnest. A cross between a crepe and a flatbread, m’smen reminds me of filo dough in terms of handling. Greasing your palms—and the dough—is key. Of course, when you’re starting out, no one will care if you make them a little thicker. Either way, it’s going to be delicious, and I’ve made a few adjustments to guarantee as much, like the addition of ras el hanout. I suspect this Moroccan spice blend, comprised of allspice, possibly aphrodisiacal ash berries, potentially toxic belladonna leaves, and a myriad of other aromatics, may have been used by the witches in Macbeth. It’s certainly cast its spell on me.

1 In the bowl of a stand mixer, using a whisk, stir together the flours, ras el hanout, baking powder, and salt. Add the egg. Fit the bowl on the mixer and, using the dough hook, mix the ingredients at medium-low speed. With the mixer running, gradually add the water until a ball of dough forms. It shouldn’t be sticky or too moist. If necessary, add more semolina flour, 1 tablespoon, or less, at a time. Continue to mix the dough for about 8 minutes more, or until it is very smooth, soft, and elastic. (You can do this by hand if you don’t have a stand mixer, but note that the dough may seem as if it doesn’t have enough moisture to come together at first. Don’t worry—once you add the very last bit of water, it should come out just right.)

2 Turn the dough out onto an oiled, nonporous work surface (like a smooth countertop, Silpat mat, or baking sheet). Grease your hands and the dough with the oil, too. Using either your thumb and index finger in a grasping-and-squeezing motion or a bench scraper, divide the dough evenly into 12 pieces, each about 1½ inches in diameter. Shape the pieces into tight balls the size of a walnut or tiny tangerine and place them on an oiled baking sheet. Coat each ball with more oil and cover them with aluminum foil or a kitchen towel.

3 Coat your hands with more oil. Working one at a time and keeping the others covered, place a dough ball on the greased work surface. Pat the ball into a disc, and, using the top of your palm and heel of your hand, massage the dough into a large, flat circle, pushing outward so it gets thinner and thinner. Continue to push and flatten—being careful to avoid tears—until you’ve got an evenly paper-thin, nearly transparent sheet of dough about 7 inches in diameter (or 9 inches, if you’re a more experienced dough-handler). Brush the dough with some of the melted butter and sprinkle it with semolina flour.

4 Fold the top and bottom edges of the dough toward the center, one on top of the other, to form a long rectangle that resembles a folded crepe. Brush the dough with butter, then fold the right and left edges toward the center, one on top of the other, to form a 3-inch square. Pat the packet and brush it with more butter. Set the packet aside on an oiled pan. Repeat with the remaining dough. Cover the packets again, as before, and let them rest for 15 minutes.

5 Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium.

6 Working with your hands on your oiled work surface, using the same massaging technique as above, press one of the dough packets out into a 6-inch square. Carefully lift the square with your fingers, transfer it to the hot skillet, and cook for about 3 minutes per side, or until the bread is speckled and golden brown and its center has puffed a bit. If the dough begins to puff too much, press it down with a spatula. Transfer the finished m’smen to a rack to cool and repeat with the remaining packets.

7 When you’re ready to eat them, reheat the m’smen in a hot, dry skillet. Alternatively, eat them immediately when they come off the pan. Enjoy them with melted butter and honey, or, as I do, serve them with goat cheese, honey, and coarsely chopped oil-cured black Moroccan olives. If you love ras el hanout as much as I, you can sprinkle some more of that over the top, too.

8 Wrapped individually in aluminum foil, the m’smen can be kept in the refrigerator for a couple of days or in the freezer for up to a month.

NOTE Smen, a fermented clarified, cultured butter, is a foundation of Moroccan cuisine. Sour and funky, it is produced by using butter made—most often—from goat and/or sheep milk. I wanted to incorporate it into this flatbread, but it’s a hard ingredient to come by. Instead, I recommend goat butter, which you can find in local food specialty shops, including Whole Foods. It has a gamy richness that imparts a smen-esque depth. Regular unsalted butter is fine, but to get more flavor from it, try clarifying it first. Clarified butter is the result of cooking the fat to separate—and remove—its solids and water from its butterfat. For maximum pungency, clarify your goat butter.

In Norway, making this giant, crepe-thin, potato-based flatbread is an art, passed down and practiced generationally. Sam Sifton included a bare-bones recipe in a Thanksgiving story in the New York Times, providing alternative instructions for those who do not have the designated griddle, the square-cut grooved wooden rolling pin, or the thin paddle designed for transferring the slender wafer of dough from the countertop to the pan. I doubt I ever would have attempted this thing if not for one knee-weakening temptation: food writer Simon Hopkinson’s Saffron Mashed Potatoes.

With a little tweaking, I was able to mesh Simon’s recipe and Sam’s, and the result? Think saffronated, browned mashed potatoes. Most important, I acknowledged the impossibility of perfection and focused, instead, on the pleasure in the process and the deliciousness to come. My lefse, which I affectionately refer to as LAUGH-se for their complete lack of legitimacy or tidiness, wins, hands down, in the flavor category. They aren’t intended to be authentic; they’re for people like me who know not of fjords and aren’t afraid of trying something new and different.

1 In a large bowl, using a wooden spoon, mix the mashed potatoes with 1 cup of the flour. Stir until the flour has been absorbed into the potatoes before adding another ½ cup of the flour. The mixture will show dry, crumbly streaks that are then incorporated and leave a mass of thicker mashed potatoes in their wake. Add another ¼ cup of flour to make the mixture more doughlike. Add more flour by the tablespoon, as needed, until the mixture becomes a workable dough.

2 Turn out the dough onto a lightly floured work surface and knead it a few times to smooth it. Using your hands, roll it into a thick log and then, using a bench scraper or sharp knife, divide it into 10 portions. Roll the pieces of dough between your palms to form small balls and place them on one large or two medium plates. Cover the plate(s) with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour.

3 Ten minutes before you plan to start cooking the flatbreads, preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high.

4 Dust your work surface with flour and pour some more into a small bowl. Remove one ball of dough from the refrigerator and toss it in the bowl to coat it with flour. Shake off any excess and set the ball on your work surface. Using the heel of your hand, flatten the dough into a thick disc. Sprinkle both sides with more flour.

5 Dust your rolling pin with flour and gently and slowly begin to roll out the disc from the center, pushing out in one or two directions a couple of times before flipping the dough over and rotating it. Repeat the rolling gesture a few times, carefully spreading the dough out in a circle as you continue to flip and rotate. You may need to sprinkle more flour on the dough or your rolling pin as you go.

6 Once the dough is as thin as possible (not so thin that it’s tearing or that you can’t move it), shake off any excess flour and drape it over the rolling pin. This will become easier with practice.

7 Melt the butter in the hot skillet. Gently lay the dough in the pan and cook for about 2 minutes, until the bottom is flecked with brown. Using a thin spatula, flip the dough and cook for 2 minutes on the second side. Transfer the lefse to a plate and cover with a clean kitchen towel.

8 Repeat with the remaining dough. After you flip the flatbread in the skillet to cook the second side, take another dough ball from the refrigerator and roll it out, so it’s ready to go into the skillet immediately after the first is done. If the flatbread begins to stick to the pan, melt a small pat of butter in the skillet and blot away the excess with a paper towel so the pan is just coated with fat. You may need to do this after every two to three rounds. If the pan gets too hot, reduce the heat to medium. Keep the finished flatbreads under the kitchen towel so they stay warm and don’t dry out.

9 Lefse—and “laughse”—are best enjoyed warm. Roll them up and eat them as is, with or without a pinch of salt, or spread on some orange marmalade, tomato jam, or romesco sauce first. Try experimenting with your own toppings.

10 Leftover lefse can be stacked, separated by wax paper, wrapped in aluminum foil, and refrigerated for up to a week or frozen for several months. Thaw at room temperature (if frozen), and reheat, still wrapped in the foil, in the oven at 350°F for 10 minutes before serving.

2 pounds russet or Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into chunks (about 6 heaping cups)

1 Put the potatoes in a medium-large saucepan. Add enough cold water to cover them by 1 inch and 1 teaspoon of the salt. Bring to a boil over high heat. Once the water comes to a boil, cook the potatoes for 10 to 15 minutes, until fork-tender.

2 Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, combine the saffron, garlic, and milk and heat over medium-low heat just until the edges of the liquid start to bubble, about 10 minutes; do not scald the milk. Turn off the heat, cover the saucepan, and let the flavors infuse for 10 minutes. Add the olive oil to the milk infusion and gently reheat over low heat.

3 Drain the potatoes and pass them through a food mill into the bowl of a stand mixer. Fit the mixer with the paddle and with the mixer running on low-medium speed, slowly stream in the infused milk mixture and whip until the potatoes are smooth. (If you don’t have a stand mixer, you can do this in a large bowl with a whisk; just make sure to whisk the potatoes until smooth.)

4 Stir in the remaining 1 teaspoon salt. Taste and season with more salt, if needed. Set the purée in a warm place for about 30 minutes to fully develop the saffron flavor. If using for the lefse, refrigerate the mashed potatoes overnight or for up to 3 days; but if you haven’t the willpower to resist, spoon them into a serving bowl or onto 4 plates and dig in.

I’ve seen plenty of crispy, flaky, slightly greasy (winningly so, usually) scallion pancakes thanks to years of eating Chinese-American food in New York City and beyond. Though they’re listed as “pancakes” on menus, they’re not made from a batter; they’re made from a laminated dough, meaning each thin stratum is separated by a layer of fat—in this case, oil. And if we’re being semantically responsible, since the dough is unleavened, we have to acknowledge that a scallion pancake is, in fact, a flatbread.

I added a secret weapon: a powder made of dried shiitake mushrooms, which lends a subtle, meaty boost. There’s more pepper in my dough, too. I love those dark-dusty-rose-colored buds, with their mild citrus flavor that gives way to a pins-and-needles tingling on the tongue. These tweaks give the otherwise relatively bland flour-and-water base enough presence to make it worthwhile. And it gets even better when brushed with a buttery, gingery Shaoxing wine sauce. Is it a flatbread, or is it a pancake? Does it matter?

1 Start the dough: Place the flour, shiitake powder (if using), baking powder, and salt in a food processor and pulse a few times to combine. With the motor running, add the boiling water through the feed tube in a thin stream, followed immediately by the cold water. Process for 1 to 2 minutes, until the dough forms a rough ball. Process for another minute. Turn out the dough onto a lightly floured work surface and knead it for 30 seconds to 1 minute, so it’s smooth and forms a more compact ball. Cover it with plastic wrap and set it aside for 15 minutes.

2 Finish the dough: Using a bench scraper, divide the dough into 8 equal pieces. Cover them with plastic wrap. Working with one at a time and keeping the others covered, place one piece of the dough on a lightly floured work surface and shape it into a ball. Using a lightly floured rolling pin, flatten it into an 8-inch-wide disc.

3 Sprinkle ½ teaspoon of the sesame oil over the flattened dough, followed by ⅛ to ¼ teaspoon of the Sichuan pepper, according to your heat preference. Using your fingertip, evenly spread them together over the dough’s surface. Sprinkle 2 tablespoons of the scallions over the dough, leaving a bit of room around the edges.

4 As tightly as possible, roll the dough up like a jellyroll to form a cigar-shaped tube. Coil the tube into a tight spiral, making sure the tail end is sealed and tucked in. Flatten the coil with your palm. Using a rolling pin, gently roll the coil out until it’s between 6 and 7 inches wide and around ¼ inch thick. (If any scallions burst through the dough, use your fingers to repair holes and incorporate the scallions back into the dough.)

5 Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually increasing the heat from low to medium while you begin to roll out the second piece of dough. When the skillet is hot, add the peanut oil: For a chewy, doughy flatbread, add 1 teaspoon peanut oil and tilt to coat. For a crispy, shallow-fried pancake, add 2½ tablespoons peanut oil instead.

6 Brush any excess flour off the first dough round and place it in the skillet. Cook for 4 minutes, until the underside is toasted and covered with brown spots with no raw flour visible (if it’s a thinner disc, check it after 3 minutes). Flip the flatbread over and cook for 4 minutes more, until the second side resembles the first. Transfer the flatbread to a rack to cool slightly, then wrap it in a kitchen towel so it stays soft.

7 Repeat with the remaining dough. While one round is in the pan cooking, shape and fill another, keeping your eye on the dough in the skillet as you work. Continue to flour your work surface and rolling pin as you go, and add 1 teaspoon of peanut oil to the skillet before you cook each flatbread.

8 Serve immediately. (Alternatively, you can keep them in the warming drawer of an oven or in an oven set to 200°F.) Brush the flatbreads with the warm Shaoxing-Butter Sauce, whisking it first to incorporate again. If you are skipping the sauce, sprinkle the flatbreads with flake salt as soon as you take them out of the pan. You can also dip them in soy sauce.

NOTES

• To make the dough in advance, refrigerate the prepared rounds in plastic wrap until the next day. Wait until right before you start cooking the dough to make the sauce.

• Make the shiitake powder with 1 (1-ounce) package dried shiitake mushrooms (about 15). Place the dried mushrooms in a food processer and run the machine until they’re ground into a fine dust, up to 5 minutes. Store the powder in a sealed container at room temperature for up to a year.

In a small saucepan, melt the butter over medium-low heat. Reduce the heat to low and whisk in the wine and soy sauce. Add the ginger and bring the sauce to a simmer, increasing the heat to medium-low, if necessary. Reduce the heat to very low to infuse the sauce with the ginger’s flavor and keep the sauce warm while you make the flatbreads.

“Cast-iron bread baking was a totally new concept to me when we started,” Lauren Crabbe admitted before recounting an anecdote that I found consoling after taking my first stab at these farls (or “fourths” in Middle English). She and her Belfast-born husband, Michael McCrory, opened Andytown Coffee Roasters in San Francisco, where she makes his grandmother’s quartered bread on the stovetop. In the early stages, Lauren ran into an older Irish neighbor and told him her soda-related troubles. He advised: “Don’t beat yourself up over it—it took my wife thirty-five years to get hers right!”

Luckily, there are a lot of good loaves on the way to right. Even my not-so-perfect specimens were a joy to eat, especially when I added a tablespoon of caraway seeds. (You could also try dill, fennel, or anise seeds, cracked pepper, or chopped rosemary.) There’s something surprisingly satisfying about making your own bread—from start to finish—in a pan on your stove. The dough takes no time at all, not to stir together or to shape. The less you handle it, the better. And then you get to see it bake right in front of you, not through the glass of an oven window. It’s almost like magic, and it comes with a bolstering sense of accomplishment.

1 Using a small fine-mesh sieve, evenly dust the surface of a 10-inch cast-iron skillet with 1 tablespoon of the flour—you should still be able to see some of the pan underneath the layer of white. Preheat the pan over low heat, gradually raising it to medium-low. The skillet should get hot, but not so hot that it burns the flour. Adjust the temperature as necessary.

2 Using a sifter or fine-mesh sieve, sift together the remaining 2½ cups flour, the baking soda, sugar, baking powder, and salt into a large bowl and stir with a whisk to combine. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients. Pour the buttermilk into the well in a slow, steady stream, stirring with a wooden spoon to combine as you add the liquid. The texture should be wet and sticky. You may not need to use all the buttermilk (start with 1 cup); alternately, if the dough is too dry, add more of the liquid, 1 tablespoon at a time, stirring to incorporate.

3 Transfer the dough to a heavily floured surface. With floured hands, quickly and gently form the dough into a loose ball and then knead it into a disc about 8 inches in diameter, taking care not to overwork the dough. Cut a cross into the surface of the dough, creating four equal quarters. The dough will expand and rejoin at the cuts, but clear dividing lines should remain.

4 Make sure the dough is generously floured; otherwise, the bread will stick to the pan. Carefully place the dough in the hot skillet, patting it down so it fills the pan to its edges. It should only be about ½ inch high at this point. Cook the dough for 2 minutes, then raise the heat to medium and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, until it grows to reach just over 2 inches high, its top is dry, and it releases when you shake the pan. Monitor your skillet to avoid burning; you can occasionally rotate the pan, off-center, around the flame to prevent charred spots. If the sides stick, use a butter knife to free them before shaking the bread loose.

5 Use a spatula (or the Upside-Down Plate Trick) to flip the dough. If there’s evidence of burning flour on the skillet, dust it with a bit more flour to cover the charring patches before returning the dough, flipped, to the pan. Cook on the second side for about 12 minutes, occasionally rotating the pan and the bread itself, until tapping the dough produces a hollow sound. If you see or smell any evidence of burning, reduce the heat immediately, as necessary (though a small bit of char adds flavor). When it’s done, the bread will have an airy, fluffy interior. No wet dough should be visible. Cooking time will vary based on weather and pan heat; if you are unsure if your bread is ready, tear it across the pre-cut lines to check it.

6 Remove the finished bread from the pan, swaddle it in a kitchen towel to trap moisture and soften the crust, and let it cool on a wire rack for at least 1 hour.

NOTE Unbleached all-purpose flour will work just as well here; you may need to add a bit more buttermilk to get the right dough consistency.

Loafing Around

To help you master skillet loaves in less than thirty-five years, here are a few things to keep in mind as you find your stovetop groove:

• You’re going to need a lot of bench flour, and you shouldn’t start second-guessing yourself when you use it. Lauren Crabbe suggests dusting your skillet with flour as much as you would dust brownies with confectioners’ sugar.

• It’s better if the dough fills the pan all the way to the sides. It won’t stick, because of all the flour you’re using. Pushing the uncooked loaf all the way out there prevents you from ending up with doughy edges; no one wants those.

• If you are less practiced or dealing with a finicky gas burner, rotate the pan around the flame, slightly off-center. Moving the pan around the flame will allow you to control the distribution of heat. Once you’ve flipped the loaf to its second side, rotate the bread itself. And if you’re more concerned with uneven cooking or burning than you are with doughy edges (as above), then by all means do not pack the loaf tightly into the pan; leave enough space between the dough and the skillet’s rim to be able to move the bread itself while the first side is cooking.

• This recipe has a built-in bonus: the layer of flour in your skillet will reveal your pan’s hot spots. Even before you put the dough in the pan, the preheating process will have begun to toast the flour, and you can see which—if any—patches are getting browner than the rest.

• When you flip the half-baked bread over, you’ll have an even clearer sense of your skillet’s trouble areas. Darkening may be more extreme, and if you’re a cast-iron-baking beginner, you may end up with a few burnt flour circles. Worse things have happened. The more you get to know your pan, and to make stovetop breads on it, the easier it will be to maneuver your way to evenly cooked loaves.

A few years ago, my mother and I decided to continue our tradition of taking long-weekend bonding trips together and went to Portland, Maine, in the fall. Our first stop was Standard Baking Company, where we tried a promising oatmeal raisin cookie. What I especially appreciated about their version was that, instead of having cinnamon—the expected spice—in its dough, it featured nutmeg, which gave it a sharper, more complex, and savory appeal.

I’ve used the recipe for farls as the foundation for a bread that marries oatmeal and raisins—common Irish soda bread ingredients—with nutmeg, same as that cookie. I brought in two types of oats—rolled and steel-cut—a trick borrowed from Martha Rose Shulman, which makes a more textured loaf. Because it’s also made with whole-wheat flour, this flat, crusty round has a wonderfully nutty flavor. Its popcornlike aroma gets me every time I set one on the stove.

1 Using a small fine-mesh sieve, evenly dust the surface of a 10-inch cast-iron skillet with 1 tablespoon of the all-purpose flour—you should still be able to see some of the pan underneath the layer of white. Preheat the pan over low heat, gradually raising it to medium-low. The skillet should get hot, but not so hot that it burns the flour. Adjust the temperature as necessary.

2 Using a sifter or fine-mesh sieve, sift together the remaining ½ cup all-purpose flour, the whole-wheat flour, baking soda, baking powder, and the ½ teaspoon salt into a large bowl and stir with a whisk to combine. Add the nutmeg, brown sugar, and steel-cut oats, then whisk everything together again, breaking up any clumps of brown sugar. Add the rolled oats and stir with a wooden spoon to incorporate. Add the raisins and stir again to coat them with the flour.

3 Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients. Pour the buttermilk into the well in a slow, steady stream, stirring with a wooden spoon to combine as you add the liquid. The texture should be wet and sticky. You may not need to use all the buttermilk (start with ¾ cup); alternately, if the dough is too dry, add more of the liquid, 1 tablespoon at a time, stirring to incorporate.

4 Transfer the dough to a heavily floured surface. With floured hands, quickly and gently form the dough into a loose ball and then knead it into a round about 8 inches in diameter, taking care not to overwork the dough.

5 Cut a cross into the surface in the center of the dough and make sure it is generously floured; otherwise, the bread will stick to the skillet. Carefully place the dough in the skillet, patting it down so it fills the pan to its edges. It should only be about ½ inch high at this point. Cook the dough for 2 minutes, then raise the heat to medium and cook for about 10 minutes, until it has risen at least 1 inch, its top is dry, and it releases when you shake the pan. Monitor your skillet to avoid burning; you can occasionally rotate the pan, off-center, around the flame to prevent charred spots. If the sides stick, use a butter knife to free them before shaking the bread loose.

6 Use a spatula (or the Upside-Down Plate Trick) to flip the dough. If there’s evidence of burning flour on the skillet, dust it with a bit more flour to cover the charring patches before returning the dough, flipped, to the pan. Cook on the second side for 10 to 12 minutes, occasionally rotating the pan and the bread itself, until tapping the dough produces a hollow sound. If you see or smell any evidence of burning, reduce the heat immediately, as necessary (though a small bit of char adds flavor). When it’s done, the bread will have an airy, fluffy interior. No wet dough should be visible. Cooking time will vary based on weather and pan heat; if you are unsure if your bread is ready, tear it across the pre-cut lines to check it.

7 Remove the finished bread from the pan, swaddle it in a kitchen towel to trap moisture and soften the crust, and let it cool on a wire rack for at least 1 hour.

Rocky Yazzie, founder of a fry bread pop-up in San Francisco, was born into the Diné (more commonly known as Navajo) tribe in New Mexico, where he grew up making this hot, bubbled bread with his grandmother. It was the result, he explains, of an 1883 congressional act that relegated Native American tribes to their respective reservations and rationed their provisions. Fry bread provided an economical way to stretch the small quantity of flour each family was given. Like so much of cuisine born out of poverty, there’s nothing skimpy or insufficient about these puffy, light, crispy rounds.

Frying bread is a lot easier than I expected. As Rocky taught me, the dough should be so thin, you can nearly see through it. He prefers lard or coconut oil for frying. Both add flavor—the first will give you something funky; the second, something nutty and mildly sweet. I decided to blend the two and found that they balance each other beautifully. The fat has to be deep enough to allow the dough to float, and hot enough to cook the bread in just a few seconds. You might be surprised to learn—I was—that there’s no need for a thermometer; you can tell the fat’s ready just by looking at it.

1 In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, 1 teaspoon of the salt, and the baking powder. Add the milk, then, gradually, the warm water, using your hand to work the liquid into the dry ingredients to form a solid ball of dough free of lumps. As it begins to come together in the bowl, use a loose kneading motion to continue to incorporate the water into the flour. Do not overwork the dough. It should be tacky, but not wet. You may not need all the water, or you may need to add a bit more. If there’s too much, add more flour, up to a tablespoon at a time, and quickly knead it into the dough until the desired consistency is reached.

2 Cover the dough with a damp kitchen towel and let it rest for 1 hour. It will continue to absorb liquid, and its surface will smooth out.

3 Turn the dough out onto a floured work surface and, using a bench scraper or knife, divide it into 12 to 16 equal-size portions. Holding it in your hands, roll each one into a ball about 2 inches in diameter. Place the balls on a floured cutting board or Silpat and cover them with a damp kitchen towel for 15 minutes.

4 In a 10-inch cast-iron skillet, heat 1 cup each of the lard and coconut oil (enough to fill the pan one-quarter to one-third full), gradually increasing the heat from medium-low to high. When you see the melted fat begin to ripple in rings after about 20 minutes, you’re ready to fry. (Another good indicator is a steady, rapid flow of tiny bubbles; if you stick a chopstick into the fat, those same bubbles should immediately rise up around it.)

5 When the frying fat seems close to ready, working one at a time and keeping the others covered, place one of the dough balls on a well-floured work surface and, using a well-floured rolling pin, roll it into a very thin, flat round, 6 to 7 inches wide. It should be so thin that you can almost see through it when it goes into the skillet. Shake off any excess flour, then gently drop it—away from you—into the hot fat. The dough should float up and begin to bubble and puff up immediately. Use a chopstick to make a small (¼-inch) hole in the dough to keep the puffing under control.

6 After 30 seconds to 1 minute, when the underside of the bread is golden, use tongs to flip it over. If it’s not quite ready, wait another 30 seconds to 1 minute to flip it. The second side should take about the same amount of time to cook. Once both sides are crisped and golden, use tongs to lift the finished bread out of the skillet. Gently tap the bread against the side of the pan to remove any excess oil and place it on a plate lined with paper towels. Sprinkle the bread with salt and keep it warm in the warming drawer of your oven or in the oven with the temperature below 200ºF.

7 Repeat the process with the remaining balls of dough, making sure the fat is hot enough before adding the dough to the skillet. If the oil seems too hot, reduce the heat to medium-high; if it seems too low, raise it back to high. The dough will lower the temperature of the fat and absorb some of it, so check the amount of fat, too. If the center of the bread looks pale and isn’t darkening like the rest of the dough, it means there’s not enough fat in the pan. Adding a tablespoon of either lard or coconut oil to the skillet after each frying should keep it level, but you may need to add more. Use the moments between removing one finished fried bread and bringing the fat back to the right temperature to roll out the next ball of dough.

8 Eat the fry bread while it’s hot. Trickle honey and shake confectioners’ sugar over it, or pile it with pinto or black beans, onions, tomatoes, and cilantro.

As soon as I discovered green pea flour in one of the crammed aisles at my local spice emporium, Kalustyan’s, I knew I would use it to make a panisse, a chickpea flour–based cake cut into thick, crispy sticks akin to French fries. Who cares if I’d never made one before, even with the requisite flour? Chickpeas are kind of bland anyway. But green peas? They’re naturally sweet and taste incredibly verdant, like spring.

Empowered by a panisse post on pastry chef and cookbook author David Lebovitz’s blog, I assumed it would be easy enough. I would follow his recipe for the polentalike batter, swapping in the green pea for the chickpea flour. I thought wrong. The first time I attempted the batter, I ended up with what looked like lumpy green pudding. I had forgotten that peas cook a lot faster than garbanzos (they really don’t need to be cooked at all). I tried the batter again, trusting my pea-guided intuition. On round two, I got it right, and it took less than half as long as it would have had I been making a traditional panisse. Once I sliced it and crisped the sticks up in my skillet, I discovered they tasted better, too.

Freshly ground black pepper or crushed red pepper flakes, for serving (optional)

1 Using a paper towel, lightly grease a 9-inch square cake pan or a similar size pan or baking dish with 1 teaspoon of the olive oil.

2 In a medium saucepan, combine 4 cups water, the remaining 2 teaspoons olive oil, and 1½ teaspoons of the salt. Heat the mixture over medium-high heat until the water is hot, but not boiling—just until the tiny bubbles at the bottom of the pan begin to rapidly rise to the surface. Reduce the heat to medium, dump the green pea flour into the pot, and as the flour combines with the water, whisk the mixture continuously for just a minute or so, until it thickens.

3 Switch to a wooden spoon or heatproof spatula and cook the green mixture, stirring continuously, for 2 to 3 minutes, until the batter is bubbling and thick enough to hold its shape. Stirring should be noticeably more difficult, and you should be able to see the bottom of the pan as you drag the spoon through the mixture. Remove the pan from the heat and, working quickly, stir in the sugar and the remaining 1 teaspoon salt. Taste and add more salt as needed. Immediately remove the pan from the heat.

4 Working quickly, while the batter is hot, use a spatula to scrape it into the prepared pan and smooth the top. Press plastic wrap directly against the surface of the batter to prevent a skin from forming and place the pan in the refrigerator for 1 hour to set. (The batter will keep in the refrigerator for up to 2 days.)

5 When you’re ready to fry the panisse, unmold the batter (it will have solidified) onto a cutting board and slice it into batons about 3 inches long, 1 inch wide, and ½ inch thick.

6 Fill a 10-inch cast-iron skillet one-quarter to halfway up the sides with olive oil. Heat the oil over low heat, gradually raising the temperature to medium-high. When the oil begins to shimmer, it’s hot enough. (To check if it’s ready, add a crumb of the panisse batter to the pan. If the oil sizzles up around the crumb, you can proceed.) Fry the panisse sticks in batches of 5 or 6 at a time so as not to crowd the pan. Cook for 3 minutes, or until the bottoms are golden and crisp. Flip the panisse sticks with tongs and cook for 3 minutes more, or until the other side is also golden and crisp. The exterior should be crispy-thin, while the interior should resemble that of thick-cut French fries or baked polenta—starchy and soft.

7 Place the finished panisse sticks on a paper towel–lined plate and season them aggressively with more salt (about ¼ teaspoon per batch) and, if you like, lemon zest or a squeeze of lemon (or both) and either freshly ground black pepper or red pepper flakes. Repeat with the remaining batons, adding more oil to the skillet if its level drops, and bringing the oil back up to temperature between batches. If the oil gets too hot, reduce the heat accordingly. Season each batch as it comes out of the pan. Expect to get 7 or 8 fry batches from one recipe’s worth of batter.

8 Panisse is best eaten right away. If the sticks get too cool, you can reheat them in the oven at a low temperature, or in your cast-iron skillet with a little oil. If you don’t want to eat them all at once, you can set half aside, covered, at room temperature, for Panisse Panzanella with Wilted & Raw Lettuces.

I spent a semester abroad in London and adhered to a strict diet of those springy, soft griddle cakes hit with a pat of butter and jam, or crème fraîche and smoked salmon, or honey and cheese. If you could put it on a crumpet, I did. When my pants stopped fitting, I knew I had to cut myself off, which was easy enough to do once I returned to the States, where, because people think English muffins and crumpets are interchangeable, you will only find the former. The instant I thought to have the latter in this cookbook, I worried I might fall off the wagon.

Once again, temptation is nigh. This recipe produces the prerequisite galactic holes and proper texture, inside and out, but it does the crumpets of Merry England one better. Anna Higham, a young British pastry cook, had the brilliant notion to put pomegranate molasses in the batter. It heightens the tart, yeasty flavor characteristic of crumpets and maximizes the caramelization that yields a crispy base and rim for their spongy interior. The crumpets make an excellent foundation for the familiar pile-ons of my undergrad days and for a newer Egg Salad Melt with Roasted Asparagus.

This recipe calls for three crumpet rings, which are inexpensive and readily available online or at any baking supply shop. You jerry-riggers out there will find ways to repurpose empty tuna cans for the cause, but it’s okay—you don’t need DIY skills to execute this procedure. It’s pretty easy. It’s also lots of fun, and it fills your kitchen with a magical yeasty fragrance. As Anna says, “It’s such a hopeful smell.”

2 In a medium saucepan, combine the milk, ⅔ cup water, and the molasses, quickly stirring to combine. Gently warm the mixture over low heat until it reaches 110° to 115°F. Remove the pan from the heat and whisk in the yeast. Let the mixture sit for 5 to 10 minutes to activate the yeast. It should be foamy and smell a little sweet and yeasty.

3 Pour the wet mixture into the bowl with the dry ingredients and, using a wooden spoon or rubber spatula, beat the ingredients together for 5 to 10 minutes. You should have a smooth batter. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and cover it with plastic wrap or a kitchen towel. Set aside until the batter has doubled in volume, 45 minutes to 1 hour.

4 Dissolve the baking soda in the warm water and, using a wooden spoon or rubber spatula, beat it into the batter. Scrape down the sides of the bowl once more and let the batter sit for another hour, until it has doubled in volume.

5 About 10 minutes before the batter is ready, preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-low. Meanwhile, butter 3 crumpet rings.

6 Once the batter is ready and the pan is hot, raise the heat to medium and add 1 teaspoon of the butter. Tilt the pan to coat, then blot any excess butter with a paper towel so the skillet is slick.

7 Place the greased rings in the skillet and pour a heaping ⅓ cup batter into each. Cook for about 5 minutes, until holes have started to appear around the outer two-thirds of the crumpets. Reduce the heat to medium-low and, using a spatula, nudge the crumpet rings clockwise, to shift their places in the pan so they cook evenly. After about 5 minutes more, once the entire surface of each crumpet looks dry, using small tongs, remove each ring, then with your spatula, flip the crumpets over and cook them for up to 4 minutes, to give their top sides some color.

8 Using a spatula, transfer the crumpets to a wire rack to cool. Repeat with the remaining batter. Between each batch, raise the heat to medium, add another teaspoon of butter (blotting the excess as before), and re-grease the crumpet rings.

9 Let the crumpets cool completely before toasting them to eat. To store, put them in a sealed container or wrap them in plastic wrap and refrigerate until you’re ready to toast them. They’ll keep in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.

NOTE Anna also taught me a trick for measuring a dough’s rise: “I marked a line on the outside of the bowl with a Sharpie where I judged double to be so that I knew what I was shooting for.” Instead of getting indelible ink on my bowl, I used a small, thin strip of masking tape.

When I began doing research on skillet-friendly loaves, I found The Book of Bread, one of two cookbooks on that subject that Judith Jones and her husband, Evan, wrote together in the 1980s. It had to be a sign. A few months earlier, I’d met Judith, the legendary editor responsible for introducing the American cooking—and reading—public to Julia Child, Madhur Jaffrey, Lidia Bastianich, and Claudia Roden, among others. At ninety, she was still as eager to stand at her stove as she’d ever been. Sometimes, she confessed, at four p.m., she begins to get so excited about the prospect of making dinner that she can’t hold off until a more appropriate hour. Her enthusiasm made me want to cook more. I kept my copy of the Joneses’ tome within reach while I was working on many of this chapter’s breads and on this one, especially.

It’s important to have a reliable pita recipe in your repertoire. The bread can be stuffed with whatever you like—egg salad is a favorite of mine. I wanted to maintain its versatility, so instead of going crazy with spices or heavy seasoning, I made a minor, flavor-enhancing alteration and applied some toasted barley flour to the dough. You can tell what it’s going to do for the pita as soon as you toast it—the flour starts to emit the most wonderful sweet, nutty aroma; it reminds me of the smell of baking biscuits. Each time I placed an uncooked disc on the hot skillet and watched it puff up like a blowfish, I felt like breaking into applause. In those seconds, I thought of Judith. Maybe, at the same time, she was in her kitchen, clapping with uncontained delight over whatever she’d just made for dinner.

1 Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-low. Add the barley flour to the pan and toast it, stirring continuously with a wooden spoon or spatula, for about 10 minutes, until it begins to smell like baking biscuits and slightly darkens in color. Transfer the toasted flour to a medium bowl to cool. Rinse and dry the pan thoroughly.

2 When the toasted barley flour has cooled, add the whole-wheat and all-purpose flours to the bowl and whisk the flours together.

3 In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in ½ cup of the warm water. Meanwhile, in a smaller bowl, combine the remaining 1 cup warm water with the salt, 1 tablespoon of the extra-virgin olive oil, and the honey (if using). Once the yeast has completely dissolved and is foaming, stir in the contents of the smaller bowl until everything is well combined. Add the flours and stir until a dough forms.

4 Turn the dough out onto a floured surface and, with floured hands, knead it for about 10 minutes. As you work, add extra flour as needed to yield a firm and elastic dough. Clean out the bowl that held the dough, dry it, and rub it with the remaining 1 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil, blotting any excess with a paper towel. Place the dough in the bowl, turning it so it’s evenly coated with the oil. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and put it in a warm place for about 90 minutes, until the dough has doubled in volume.

5 Place the dough on a large, lightly floured work surface and roll it into a foot-long log. Using a bench scraper, divide the dough into 12 equal portions. Roll each into a ball about 2 inches in diameter. Use your palms to stretch the dough, and your fingers and thumbs to pull the edges down and into the center, tucking them together with a pinch where they meet at the base of the ball. Set them on a floured baking sheet for 5 minutes, covered with a kitchen towel.

6 Working one at a time, keeping the others covered, flatten a dough ball on your work surface with a floured palm, then roll it out into a thin, 6-inch-wide disc using a floured rolling pin. Return the disc to the floured baking sheet and repeat with the remaining dough balls. Let the discs rest, covered, for 20 minutes.

7 Ten minutes before you plan to cook the pitas, preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high.

8 Add ½ teaspoon of the olive oil to the hot pan and tilt to coat, blotting any excess oil with a paper towel. Place one of the pita discs on the hot pan and cook it for 15 to 20 seconds, then gently flip it over with a spatula. Cook for about 1 minute, until big bubbles begin to emerge on the dough’s surface. Flip the bread again and cook until it puffs up like a balloon. You can facilitate this by applying gentle pressure—either with a towel or, if you’ve got a light enough touch, with your spatula—to the spaces where bubbles have formed. (You want to nudge air into areas in the dough that are still flat.) The entire cooking process should take about 3 minutes. It should be quick, but gradual. If the dough begins to burn, reduce the heat as necessary. Stack the finished pitas under a kitchen towel to keep them warm and prevent them from drying out.

9 Repeat to cook 3 more pitas, then add ½ teaspoon of the olive oil to the pan. Cook 4 more pitas, add the remaining ½ teaspoon olive oil, and cook the remaining discs. Wrapped in plastic, the pitas will keep in the refrigerator for up to 5 days and can be warmed or toasted before serving.

A hoecake batter is a sludge formed from cornmeal, salt, boiling water, and lard; when fried in a greased, sizzling-hot pan, it develops a crunchy 14-karat-golden crust. Hoecakes are denser than pancakes and both lighter and crunchier than hot-water cornbread. Once a staple of slaves’ diets in the American South, they’re still served with collard greens to sop up the cooking liquid—or potlikker—left behind. Nashville pastry chef Lisa Donovan taught me how to make them. I snuck maple syrup into her base and decided to pour it all into my skillet in one go. In texture and flavor, the exterior of this large hoecake has all the perks of cornflakes; plus, its interior offers a soft cushion for my teeth to land on. It needed no improvement. Or so I thought, until I tried adding Korean kimchi—along with some toasted nori—on top. This may sound a little kooky and busy. You’re just going to have to trust me and give it a try. And keep this in mind: Flipping a single, large fritter is no easy task. If things get messy, you’ll be grateful for those garnishes.

3 or 4 (2½ by 4-inch) sheets toasted nori, cut widthwise into matchsticks or torn into confetti-size bits

1 Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high, so it gets very hot. Meanwhile, make the batter: In a small saucepan, bring 1⅓ cups water to a boil over high heat. In a large bowl, combine the cornmeal and salt. Add ⅔ cup of the boiling water to the cornmeal and stir to combine. Continue stirring and slowly add 2 tablespoons more water, 1 tablespoon at a time. Add the maple syrup and stir to combine. The batter should be thin enough to slowly pour but also thick enough to spread with a spatula. If the batter is too thick to pour, add more boiling water as needed, 2 teaspoons at a time, and stir to combine.

2 Melt the lard in the hot skillet, tilting to coat, then remove the pan from the heat and pour off the fat into a small heatproof bowl. Add 1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon of the melted lard to the batter and stir to combine. Reserve the remaining melted lard.

3 Reheat the skillet over medium-high heat until hot. Add the reserved melted lard and the canola oil to the pan and tilt to coat. Pour the batter into the pan. Quickly spread and even out the batter with a spatula or knife, leaving some room around the edges of the skillet for flipping. As the batter cooks, gently jiggle the pan from time to time to prevent sticking. As the edges start to solidify and toast, gently slide your spatula beneath the hoecake and begin to loosen it from the skillet. As frying proceeds, slide the spatula closer to the center of the pan. Cook for about 8 minutes, until the edges are crisp and nicely browned and the rest of the hoecake looks set. If your hoecake is completely loosened from the base of the skillet and slides when you nudge it with your spatula or gently shake the pan, flipping should be no big deal. If the hoecake seems less amenable, use the Upside-Down Plate Trick.

4 Cook for about 6 minutes more, until the second side is golden brown; the interior of the cake should be soft. Turn off the heat and garnish the hoecake, in the pan, with the kimchi, scallions, sesame seeds, and salt to taste. Top it off with the nori and serve hot.

NOTE Achieving the right batter consistency is important. The coarser your grain, the more water you will likely need to add to the batter. If you’re using a medium grind, for example, you may need to add 2 extra tablespoons (as opposed to teaspoons) to the mixture.

The Upside-Down Plate Trick

Why does it seem like getting stuff out of your skillet is harder than cooking anything in it? Maybe because it’s a hot, heavy pan and there’s potential for your food to stick to it. Here’s how I do it:

• Make sure the edges of your baked good are completely detached from the cast iron. If needed, run a butter knife around the interior wall of the pan to loosen them.

• Place a plate the same size as the pan (or even slightly larger) over the skillet and, with pot holders, grab hold of both the plate and the pan handle, and turn the duo upside down so the skillet is on top. The cooked item should drop onto the plate.

• If it won’t budge, flip it again so the plate is back on top. Set the plate aside and try gently slipping a spatula under the outer rim of the crust to slightly lift the item from the pan.

• Put the plate back over the skillet and try the trick again.

• The same principle applies if you need to flip a facedown baked good from one plate to another to present the finished product right-side up.

• If you have flipped something to cook its other side and need to return it to the pan, carefully slide the item off the plate and into the skillet on the uncooked side and proceed as directed.

These arepas are based on a recipe for the Colombian-style ones, which are distinguished from their Venezuelan counterparts by their flatter, larger shape and the fact that they can be made with yellow—as opposed to white—corn. This, I learned from Maricel E. Presilla’s encyclopedic cookbook Gran Cocina Latina, where I discovered arepas de queso asadas, or grilled corn and cheese arepas.

When Ms. Presilla makes them at home, she chars them under the broiler. I created a similar effect without a grill or an oven (which is where the “lazy” comes from—and where it stops). For textural contrast, I incorporate seared corn kernels into the batter. Then I work at least two types of cheese into the dough. The cool crunch of the lime-splashed slaw makes the corn-flecked arepas seem even warmer, softer, and gooier by comparison. It’s worth the extra effort.

6 tablespoons (¾ stick) unsalted butter, melted, plus 1½ teaspoons for the pan

1 cup frozen or fresh sweet corn kernels, thawed and gently patted dry, if frozen

1 pound soft fresh cheese, such as queso blanco or queso fresco, or a combination (2⅔ to 3 packed cups)

⅓ pound aged cow’s-milk cheese, such as cotija or Pecorino Romano, grated (about 1⅓ cups)

1 Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high. When the pan is hot, add the 1½ teaspoons butter and let it melt, tilting to coat. Add the corn and cook for about 8 minutes, stirring from time to time to avoid sticking, until both sides are burnt. Transfer the charred corn to a small bowl and set aside to cool.

2 In a large bowl, combine the corn flour and sugar. Gradually add the water, incorporating it into the dry ingredients with your fingers. Work in 3 tablespoons of the melted butter, kneading the mixture to form a soft dough. Knead in the cheeses, 1 cup at a time. If the dough seems too dry, add 1 to 1½ tablespoons more water. Taste for seasoning and, if necessary, add the salt to taste, ¼ teaspoon at a time. Keep kneading the dough until it’s supple, smooth, and lump-free. It will feel like a cross between lukewarm mashed potatoes and Play-Doh.

3 When the dough is just about right, quickly and gently knead the corn kernels into it and shape it into a compact sphere, working in any remnants that may have stuck to the base of your bowl. Line the bowl with a piece of plastic wrap. Return the dough to the bowl and cover with a damp kitchen towel. Set aside for at least 15 minutes.

4 Preheat the cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high, so it gets very hot. Meanwhile, shape the dough: Divide it into 12 portions of about ½ cup (or 5 ounces) each and place them under a kitchen towel. Working with one at a time and keeping the others covered, roll one piece of dough into a ball, then flatten it into a circle about 3 inches wide and ½ inch thick. Set the finished disc on a plate and cover with a damp kitchen towel. Repeat with the remaining dough, separating the discs with wax paper and keeping them covered as you work.

5 Combine the remaining 3 tablespoons melted butter and the corn oil in a small bowl. Add 1½ teaspoons of the butter-oil mixture to the hot skillet and tilt the pan to coat. Place 4 of the arepas in the pan. Every couple of minutes, rotate them in place, then after 5 minutes, shift them clockwise in the pan, adding 1½ teaspoons more of the butter-oil mixture to the skillet to prevent burning or sticking. At the 10-minute mark, flip the arepas with a spatula and add another 1½ teaspoons of the butter-oil mixture to the pan.

6 Cook the arepas for 8 to 9 minutes more, rotating them in place every couple of minutes and shifting them all together, clockwise, after 4 minutes as above, adding another 1½ teaspoons of the butter-oil mixture to the pan. When finished, the exterior of the arepas should be crisp and solid, and the inside should be cooked through with a soft consistency comparable to cheesy grits. Repeat with the remaining arepas, cooking them in batches of 4 at a time.

7 Eat the arepas immediately while they’re hot, or keep them warm on a large plate, covered with aluminum foil, while you cook the rest. Top each with a heaping spoonful of slaw, a pinch of salt, and, if you wish, a few drops of your favorite hot sauce.

½ cup fennel, thinly sliced horizontally, then coarsely chopped to resemble cabbage slaw

1 In a medium bowl, toss the jicama, apple, carrot, fennel, and onion together so all the ingredients are evenly dispersed.

2 In a small bowl, whisk together the lime juice, vinegar, and honey until the honey has dissolved. Add the chili powder and whisk to combine. Slowly stream the olive oil into the bowl and continue to whisk so the dressing emulsifies. Season the dressing with the salt.

3 Add the dressing to the vegetables, using your hands or a spoon to toss or stir to ensure the vegetables are evenly coated. Mix in the cilantro. You can serve the slaw right away, but it will improve if you leave it in the fridge to marinate for a couple of hours.

I had been researching a galette for my skillet project—more specifically, a traditional Breton-style crepe made with grassy buckwheat flour. I had big plans for this thing—it would be spicy and salty and fruity and made on the stovetop. To get it right, I consulted Devon Gilroy, head of The Corner restaurant at Hotel Tivoli in upstate New York. Devon’s technique is as clever as its outcome. Parchment paper lines the bottom of the pan to protect the crust and achieve even browning of the delicate batter. But the real hero here is the fruit topping. Ginger—astringent, warming, and refreshing—gives an acidic, bracing brine a sharp heat. (I wanted to pickle everything in it; I certainly had enough left over to do so.) When that liquid is combined with the plums, a sliced shallot, and some additional fresh ginger, you get a caramelized, jammy, sweet-and-sour experience like no other. The cooling whipped goat cheese is a breeze to make, which is true of each building block of this stunningly gorgeous, explosively flavored dish, perfect for brunch, lunch, or as part of a fun cheese course. Somehow, it turns a rustic, free-form construction into a work of art that’s not too pretty to eat. You’ll want to ravish it—I finished the entire galette in one lightning-fast sitting, all by myself.

1 Make the ginger-roasted plums: Preheat the oven to 450°F. Preheat a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on the stovetop, gradually raising the heat from low to medium-high. In a medium bowl, toss the plums, shallot, julienned ginger, olive oil, 1 tablespoon of the honey, and the salt. When the pan is hot, add the plum mixture. Sauté the fruit for about 7 minutes, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon, until the plums begin to caramelize and soften around the edges.

2 Pour in the 2 tablespoons of the brine, scraping the bottom of the pan with the wooden spoon, and cook the plums for 5 minutes more to allow the juices to thicken and become syrupy. Remove the pan from the heat, add the remaining 2 tablespoons honey, and stir to combine. Transfer the skillet to the oven and roast the plums for about 7 minutes, or until the fruit is somewhat dry and browned around the edges but not burnt. The shallot should be sweet and caramelized, and the plums should be soft around the outside, while retaining some texture toward the center.

3 Transfer the plums and any syrup to a small bowl and set aside. Wipe out the skillet.

4 Make the whipped goat cheese: In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle, whip the chèvre and cream on medium speed until smooth and aerated. Add the olive oil and continue to mix until incorporated. Transfer the whipped goat cheese to a small bowl and set aside.

5 Make the crust: In a small saucepan, melt the butter. Take it off the heat and allow to cool slightly. In a medium bowl, whisk together the egg and cold water. In a separate smaller bowl, combine the flours, sugar, and salt and stir to incorporate. Add the flour mixture to the bowl with the egg and water and, using a wooden spoon, stir until thoroughly combined. Drizzle the melted butter into the batter and whisk until all the ingredients are thoroughly incorporated and the batter is smooth.

6 Set a 10-inch cast-iron skillet on a sheet of parchment paper and trace around the bottom with a pencil. Cut out the circle, following the pencil outline. Repeat to make a second parchment paper round.

7 Drizzle the grapeseed oil into the skillet and tilt to coat. Place one of the parchment paper rounds in the greased skillet. Set the skillet over medium heat for 1 minute. Pour the batter into the heated pan and, using a rubber spatula or the back of a spoon, smooth it into an even layer.

8 Cook the batter for about 1 minute, until small bubbles start to form in the oil around the perimeter of the skillet, then reduce the heat to low. Cook for 18 to 22 minutes more, until the edges of the batter are starting to turn golden, forming tiny bubbles, and the top has begun to set; it should feel powdery to the touch and have a matte finish. Use a spatula to nudge the batter away from the sides of the pan to loosen it and to make sure the bottom is solid and ready to be flipped.

9 Place the other parchment paper round on top of the batter. Using the Upside-Down Plate Trick, flip the crust. Gently remove the top parchment. Cook for 5 to 10 minutes more, until the underside is solid and the top is crispy and golden. Using the Upside-Down Plate Trick again, flip the crust out onto a plate and let it cool to room temperature. Once it’s cool, remove the remaining parchment.

10 Gently spread the whipped goat cheese over the crust, leaving a ½-inch edge. Spoon the roasted plums over the goat cheese and drizzle as much of their syrup over the galette as you want, along with olive oil, sea salt, and pepper to taste. Serve immediately.

In a medium saucepan, combine all the ingredients with ½ cup water. Stir the mixture to dissolve the sugar and the salt. Bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, then reduce the heat to low and cook for 10 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and let cool to room temperature. The brine can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks.

Pickling Advice

After adding the pickling liquid in the Ginger-Roasted Plums preparation, you will have a significant amount left over. Here are a few ideas for using extra brine from Devon and his sous chef, Gemma Kamin-Korn:

• If you’re unsure about how much pickling time an item needs, pop a few pieces in a smaller jar and use it as a tester, opening it to check the effectiveness of the liquid and readiness of the ingredients. This allows the rest to remain untouched and sterile.

• For fruits (berries and sliced plums, peaches, or apples), simply pour cold brine over and let them pickle for an hour or two to impart some flavor without overpowering the ingredient.

• For other green vegetables and sulfurous items (broccoli, cauliflower, green beans, radishes, and asparagus), you should also go with cold brine and leave them for at least 3 to 4 days to get very crisp, mild pickles.

• For heartier things, use the liquid while it’s still warm (but not hot) and consider parcooking the vegetable. Baby carrots, for example, will take 1 to 2 days treated this way. (Leave them as is and 5 to 7 days is more like it.) Beets, potatoes, and parsnips should be parcooked and pickled for 2 to 3 days.

• Warm, diluted pickling liquid can be used to infuse and rehydrate dried fruits, like apricots and raisins, in dishes that straddle the line between sweet and savory. They would also be an interesting accompaniment on a cheese or charcuterie board.