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Lamb and chicken poach slowly in a saffron-tomato broth with chunks of root vegetables and chickpeas. Merguez sausages grill or fry separately. Couscous steams (or is rehydrated quickly with hot broth and butter). Everything plates separately on a vast platter; diners build their own bowls and slick with harissa.
Pork belly is simmered until tender, prawns are poached briefly, and vermicelli is cooked just al dente. Everything cools to room temperature, then rice paper rounds are dipped briefly in warm water and rolled around lettuce, herbs and the protein with the pink of the prawns showing through the wrapper. The peanut-hoisin sauce is the make-or-break: it should be thick, sweet and lightly garlicky.
Two strong Caribbean flavours pulled into a single one-pan dinner: jerk on the inside (in the meatballs), curry on the outside (in the sauce). The meatballs are pork rather than the more common beef, which suits jerk better, pork carries the allspice-and-Scotch-bonnet seasoning the way it was historically intended (the Maroons of eastern Jamaica originally jerked wild boar, not chicken). Around them sits a coconut-curry sauce: shallot, garlic, sweet bell peppers, Jamaican curry powder bloomed briefly in butter, then full-fat coconut milk to mellow everything into something almost ice-cream-rich. The two flavours sit alongside each other rather than fighting, the jerk reads spicy-savoury, the curry reads sweet-aromatic, and a bite that includes both is genuinely better than either alone. Smell is curry powder bloomed in coconut milk, deeply Caribbean. One of the easier dishes here, 50 minutes start to finish, all in one pan, and a modern Black-American food-blogger creation rather than a traditional Jamaican dish; the cross-pollination is the point.
Pork shoulder (uncured, fatty) and a small amount of bacon are chopped into 5 mm dice (not minced, the texture is key). Mixed with white pepper, mace, sage, salt and a touch of anchovy paste for umami. The hot-water-crust pastry: flour is mixed with hot water-and-lard mixture, kneaded warm into a pliable dough. Two-thirds of the dough lines a tall round tin (or is moulded freestanding around a glass jar); the filling is packed in tight; a lid of remaining dough is laid over the top with a 1 cm steam hole punched. Baked at 200°C for 30 min, then 160°C for another 60-75 min. Left to cool. A rich pork stock (made from trotters or with gelatin sheets) is poured through the steam hole while the pie is still warm. Refrigerated overnight to set the jelly. Sliced and eaten cold.
Roujiamo is often, lazily, called the Chinese hamburger, but it is older than the burger by perhaps a thousand years and structurally quite different. The bread is a flat, lightly leavened, sometimes laminated wheat round, with the layered Tongguan style (flaky and croissant-like) considered superior to the softer baijimo. The filling is rich braised pork, shoulder or belly, simmered with rock sugar, soy and warming spice until it shreds under a knife, then chopped fine on a board with raw onion and cilantro and a spoonful of its own dark cooking liquid. The whole assembly is then crammed inside the freshly fried-and-baked bun while everything is still hot. Roujiamo is a quintessentially Xi'an dish, the product of a city that for centuries sat at the eastern terminus of the Silk Road; the bread tradition comes from the Hui and Uyghur Muslim communities of the northwest, while the braised pork belongs to the Han Chinese kitchen. Difficulty for a home cook is moderate to high, the lamination of the bread takes practice, and there are multiple components on timed tracks, but the result is one of the great street foods of China, and the buns and meat can both be made ahead.