Fritter

Falafel is the best known of bean fritters, and—because it’s usually made from chickpeas and/or fava beans—the best tasting. Canned chickpeas are too soft for falafel, but the recipe is pretty easy anyway; the dried beans are soaked, not cooked, and the frying is straightforward. The addition of an egg prevents the batter from falling apart, which is a common problem. It may not be strictly traditional, but it works. The little fritters are best in a huge pita, with a pile of raw vegetables, but they’re also nice served as a starter, with some greens and a little Tahini Sauce.

Potato croquettes are not served much in Italy, except around Rome. When I first began working in Italian American restaurants, potato croquettes were always paired with a vegetable as a side dish. I grew fond of the dish, I guess, because it combines two things Americans love: mashed potatoes and fried things.

I love asparagus and cook it many different ways, and on my visit with the Maugeri family, one of the oldest and largest family produce farms in New Jersey, I discovered this delicious recipe. I was told it is a family recipe handed down through three generations, and I am delighted they shared it with me so I can share it with you.

These tasty fried rice balls have been enjoyed in Italy for centuries. They are great when just out of the skillet, but are delicious at room temperature as well. They can be fried in advance, then reheated. At our restaurant Del Posto in New York, the chef sends them out as a palate teaser.

The apples in these treats are slightly roasted, which gives them a wonderful flavor that contrasts nicely with the crispy texture of the batter. Any kind of apple can be used, but a tart one such as Granny Smith or Crispin works great. The sparkling apple cider enhances the apple flavor, but it can be substituted with a light beer if you prefer. Serve the fritters on their own or dip them in some warm cajeta (add about 2 tablespoons of rum or brandy per cup of warm cajeta to add a nice kick and thin it out a bit) or Natilla (page 163).

I grew up on these tasty little fried cakes, which Granny Foster used to serve for breakfast with fried eggs and biscuits, or sometimes for supper along with mashed potatoes and coleslaw. Like most Southerners, Granny used canned salmon in her croquettes. I opt instead for freshly poached or grilled salmon, a move that allows the delicate, grassy flavor of the fish to come through. Crispy and satisfying (the name croquette comes from the French for “to crunch”), these easy treats are an excellent way to revitalize leftovers from last night’s salmon dinner, ensuring that the switch from canned to fresh fish does not necessarily sacrifice convenience.

The addition of tender yellow squash lends nice texture and sweetness to these savory little balls of fried goodness. If you plan to serve them in the traditional manner with fried fish—try frying them in the same oil as the fish; this will add an extra layer of flavor and make for less cleanup.

The contrasting flavors, textures, and colors make this vibrant summertime dish a feast for the eyes as well as the mouth. It is tops served with a fried egg for breakfast, and you can turn it into a filling lunch or dinner by scattering the cakes with grilled shrimp or chicken breast.

These seem to cry, “Brunch! Brunch!” Take the time to make someone special a Sunday morning treat with a big cup of café au lait, and you won’t regret it. These fritters, a take on beignets, the French Quarter’s most famous doughnut, are a snap to make.

The first time I passed through London—long before I started cooking—I figured out that some of the best food was to be found in the ubiquitous Indian restaurants. Fortunately for my traveler’s budget, it was also the cheapest! One of my favorite discoveries was an onion bhaji, a cluster of fried onion slices bound with a spicy, aromatic batter. The flavors stayed in my memory for a long time, and after much research, I came up with this recipe. The batter is made from high-protein chickpea flour (also called besan or gram flour at Indian markets), which gives it a rich flavor. At Bayona we serve bhajis with seared scallops and carrot-cardamom sauce, but they are awfully good by themselves for snacking, with a drizzle of cilantro-spiked yogurt or your favorite chutney.

A cala is a rice beignet or fritter that used to be sold by New Orleans street vendors back in the 1800s. It was a tasty way of using up leftover rice, since rice was a staple on the table pretty much every day. I first researched cala recipes when I started cooking Sunday brunch at Savoir Faire many years ago. I wanted to find an authentic yeast-raised batter, which causes fritters to develop a more interesting (slightly fermented) flavor than when a baking powder version is used. I love to eat these warm, with strawberry preserves and plenty of café au lait.

Here’s one I stole from my friend, mentor, and sometimes tormentor from Louis XVI Restaurant, Daniel Bonnot. He taught me how to make these about twenty-five years ago. Beignet is essentially just a fancy French word for a fritter. In New Orleans, people have been known to subsist on beignets and coffee alone. This is not advisable. Feel free to substitute chopped crayfish tails for the smoked salmon—both versions are dangerously addictive.

The summer before I started cooking professionally, a friend and I spent three months on a sailboat in the Bahamas. Hey, it was tougher than it sounds! Every day we had to catch our dinner with spears, no less. If we didn’t get a fish or lobster, one thing we could always count on was finding conch. They were and are delicious, but man, are they labor-intensive, as it’s hard to extract the meat from their shells. These fritters, which are easy enough to stir together on a sailboat and are served all over the Bahamas, are so delicious that we didn’t (and you won’t) much mind the work, especially as your conch meat will already be extracted from the shell. Serve them with ice-cold beer, plenty of hot sauce (or my Cat Island Cocktail Sauce), and a creamy Lime Mayonnaise (p. 181) that will help cool the fire. And don’t be surprised if they inspire you to slip into a swimsuit and snorkel mask.

Since the corn is not cooked for the salad, it’s important to use the freshest you can find, preferably from a roadside stand or farmers’ market. Serve the fritters warm, topped with dollops of cool sour cream.

Because these crispy bean cakes are broiled rather than fried, the recipe doesn’t call for much oil, so the cakes contain less fat; they are also easier to prepare than fried versions.

I got the idea for this recipe from a Greek restaurant I worked at. The horseradish sauce is my favorite thing about them because I love that rush of spiciness that clears the sinuses.

Smooth, well-seasoned meat and seafood pastes have many uses in the Vietnamese kitchen. Here, a pinkish orange salmon paste is shaped into small cakes before undergoing a two-step cooking process: an initial steaming to cook the cakes, followed by broiling, grilling, or frying to crisp the outside. The cakes are sliced and served as an appetizer or dunked into Simple Dipping Sauce (page 309) and eaten with rice for dinner. If you have enjoyed Thai fried fish cakes (tod mun), these will remind you of them. When my mother came to the States, she substituted salmon for the rich-tasting tuna she had used in Vietnam. I have since prepared the cakes with the ahi tuna available here, but the results were too firm and dry. The fattier salmon is superior. If you can’t find skinless salmon fillet, buy 2 1/3 pounds of skin-on fillet and remove the skin before you cut the fish into chunks. The cakes can be frozen after they are steamed and then thawed and crisped for a good last-minute meal or snack. The recipe is also easily halved, but I advise you to make the whole batch and tuck away the extras for when you need a quick dish.

Golden orange and crispy, this Hanoi specialty blends the fragrance and crunch of sweet potatoes with the brininess of shrimp. The fritters, which look like roughly formed nests on which whole shrimp rest, are cut into bite-sized pieces and bundled in lettuce with fresh herbs and cucumber. My mother taught me to soak the potatoes with a bit of slaked lime (calcium hydroxide), which Southeast Asian and Indian cooks use to crisp ingredients for frying and pickling. It is basically moistened food-grade slaked lime powder, the same compound used to treat corn for making Mexican masa. The Vietnamese call it voi and it is sold in small, round plastic containers in Chinese, Thai, and Viet markets, usually stocked in the flour aisle. Two varieties are available, red and white. I prefer the white one, though the red one, which has been colored by the heartwood of the cutch tree and is traditionally chewed with betel leaf, may also be used. A small container of slaked lime lasts for a long time because only a little is needed.

Tender, flavorful, and lightly crispy, these fritters release a heady coconut fragrance as they fry and are complemented by a spicy-sweet dipping sauce at the table. Traditionally, the corn was crushed in a mortar, but an electric mini-chopper or a food processor eases the workload with a fine result. For coconut cream with the best texture and flavor, make your own or use the thick, creamy plug that rises to the top of a can of Mae Ploy brand coconut milk.

Fried oysters are essential in a Hangtown Fry, which also includes eggs and fried bacon. The dish is thought to have been created during the California gold rush in a camp called Hangtown, near Sutter’s Mill in the Coloma Valley. The town acquired its gruesome name because of frequent hangings, often carried out by vigilantes. For this recipe, you can either shuck the oysters yourself or buy fresh shucked oysters from your fishmonger.