Weeknight Meals

The star of this turkey chili recipe is plump, tender GOYA® Low Sodium Red Kidney Beans. Mix with quick-cooking ground turkey, tomato sauce, and smoky, GOYA® Chipotle Chiles in Adobo Sauce. In just 30 minutes, you’ll have a mouthwatering pot of healthy, nourishing chili that tastes like it’s been simmering for hours. Top with cheese, avocado, and cilantro for heaven in a bowl.

Toss chopped raw kale with sweet carrots, creamy avocado, and nutty farro for texture, then dress it in a garlic dressing reminiscent of green goddess dressing.

A surprisingly easy sweet-tart lamb roast is just the thing to feed a crowd this Easter.

Shredded coconut, which is cut more finely than the thick flaked type called for here, will work in a pinch.

The frittata will be easier to remove from the skillet if it sits for a few minutes—the top will deflate and the edges will pull away from the pan.

This recipe, with its double dose of coconut, is a quinoa game-changer.

Slow-roasted cod—simply topped with a zesty, rustic relish—is just the thing to brighten up any winter dinner party.

A decadent side that goes with almost everything—even breakfast.

Without the hassle of breading and frying, eggplant Parmesan goes from special-occasion project to easy weeknight dinner.

You can cut and butter the bread well in advance, but don't bake it till guests arrive.

While waiting for a main course to finish cooking, you can make this simple salad with the remnants of a bunch of broccoli. Or, you can integrate the shaved broccoli, which is sweet, mild, and tender, into other lettuce-based salads, or julienne the strips for cabbage slaws.

You can dress this salad about half an hour in advance to no ill effect—the hearty greens can handle it.

If you've never bought kohlrabi before, here's a great reason to try it.

Strisce means strips—any long pasta will work—and Chiantigiana refers to the Tuscan wine used to flavor the sauce.

Mom's Russian "Hamburgers" Kotleti for lunch, kotleti for dinner, kotleti of beef, of pork, of fish, of chicken—even kotleti of minced carrots or beets. The entire USSR pretty much lived on these cheap, delicious fried patties, and when comrades didn't make them from scratch, they bought them at stores. Back in Moscow, Mom and I harbored a secret passion for the proletarian, six-kopek variety produced by the meat-processing plant named after Stalin's food supply commissar, Anastas Mikoyan. Inspired by his 1936 trip to America, Mikoyan wanted to copy Yankee burgers in Russia, but somehow the bun got lost in the shuffle and the country got hooked on mass-produced kotleti instead. Deliciously greasy, petite, and with a heavy industrial breading that fried up to a wicked crunch, Mikoyan factory patties could be scarfed down by the dozen. Wild with nostalgia, Mom and I tried a million times to recreate them at home, but no luck: some manufactured treats just can't be duplicated. So we always reverted back to Mom's (far more noble) homemade version. Every ex-Soviet cook has a special trick for making juicy, savory patties. Some add crushed ice, others tuck in pats of butter or mix in a whipped egg white. My mother likes her kotleti Odessa-style (garlicky!), and adds mayo as binding instead of the usual egg, with delightful results. The same formula works with ground turkey or chicken or fish. Buckwheat kasha makes a nostalgic Russian accompaniment. Ditto thin potato batons slowly pan-fried with onions in lots of butter or oil. I love cold kotleti for lunch the next day, with some dense dark bread, hot mustard, and a good crunchy dill pickle.

Umami-loaded ingredients (tofu and miso) make this the most addictive ranch ever.

Giving the broccoli a head start on the salmon in this one-pan dish lets it get nicely browned, coaxing out its natural sweetness.