Bacon

The bacon wrap is a genius way to secure flavorful fresh herbs inside the fish.

A long-standing Maryland favorite, the crab cake—plus fresh avocado and a dollop of Sriracha mayo—pumps up an iconic sandwich.

Inspired by the classic steakhouse wedge, this salad gets a double hit of smokiness thanks to the bacon and grilled iceberg.

"The contrast of tender radish and crisp bacon is even better with a little cider vinegar." –Brad Leone, test kitchen manager

The King (otherwise known as Elvis Presley) was known for his swiveling hips, his dreamboat eyes, his smooth crooning, his ridiculous sequined jumpsuits, and his eccentric palate. One of his favorite snacks was a grilled peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwich, which to some might sound obscene, and to others (me), obscenely delicious. This pie marries the sweet, smoky, salty, nutty flavors of Elvis's favorite sandwich in a rich, gooey, messy cream pie. Fresh banana pudding, topped with peanut butter whipped cream in a peanut butter¿bacon cookie crust. Need I say more? You probably only need to eat this once in a lifetime; you'll never forget it.

We have to thank the geniuses at Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland, Oregon for inspiring these sweet dreams intertwined with a strip of thick, salty bacon, all drizzled with a glaze made with real maple syrup. It's almost too good to be true. You may need to clear your schedule for a month or two so you can make these EVERY weekend.

Phyllo dough can seem scary at first but once you understand that the sheer quantity of layers will mask the flaws of any individual sheet, you will gain confidence.

Maureen Butler, Meath: Bridge-playing mother of four As a child growing up in Dublin, we always had this served to us at the end of the week when all that was left were rashers, sausages and potatoes. Everything was put into the one pot and cooked. It was delicious, particularly on a cold winter's day.

Our favorite Dutch oven is heavy-duty, big enough for any stew, and handsome enough to put on the table.

This is a perfect autumn salad: not so much cooked as wilted greens in a warm, savory-sweet vinaigrette. Here in the South, we are lucky to have so many different greens that grow remarkably well virtually all year round. From the traditional collards, spinach, mustard, and turnip greens to the international varieties that have recently made their way here, including bok choy, tatsoi, and komatsuna, there are a variety of tastes and textures to choose from. No matter where you live, experiment with seasonal greens until you find your favorites. If you're shopping at the farmers' market, most of the vendors will be happy to let you have a few nibbles for taste-testing. The same goes for the squash—you can use butternut, acorn, pumpkin, African, or any similar variety. At Summerland Farm, we are lucky to have American chestnut trees planted by my ancestors, and even luckier that those trees survived the chestnut blight that killed most American chestnuts in the first half of the twentieth century. Fresh chestnuts—often grown in California—are available in many natural foods stores in the cooler months. If you can't find chestnuts, hazelnuts or cashews would make a good substitute.

It might seem like a long time, but cooking the bacon until it's welldone means it'll stay crisp at the table.

The flat cut of brisket is leaner than the point cut (or deckle) but still has enough fat to keep it juicy. It will hold its shape better as it cooks, and slices neatly.

Created by Epicurious member Kathe Miller from Chelan, Washington, this beautiful salad has a wonderful presentation as well as a rich taste. Try it as a starter, or as a satisfying lunch. Miller recommends pears that are tender but crisp, giving the salad a divine texture and bite that is at once crunchy and juicy.

I have written a recipe for panettone dressing before: the sweet seasonal fruit bread was cubed, toasted, and mixed with Italian sausage; this is very different, not least because I see it not as an accompaniment to turkey (which has its own interior stuffing) but to be served, at parties or over cocktails, in small squares, like savory brownies. As ever, feel free to substitute the plainer pandoro if you wish, though I do think the rich fruitiness is part of this unconventional appetizer's charm.

The Christmas season in Puerto Rico is blessed with balmy weather and clear skies. There is nothing like dining under the shade of a gourd tree on Christmas Eve, savoring every morsel of the earthy tamales called pasteles and adobo-flavored pork while looking at the sea. Puerto Rican women get together with their families to prepare pasteles by the hundred, freezing them until needed for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, family reunions, the Fiesta de Reyes, and the religious season called octavas that follows the Feast of the Epiphany. It is the blend of the tiny pepper ají dulce and broad-leaf culantro in the fragrant sofrito (cooking sauce) that gives an unmistakable Puerto Rican identity to these earthy tamales. A dash of vinegar lends the sofrito just the right amount of tang against the mild dough of malanga and plantain tinted orange-yellow with achiote-infused lard. I learned to make these in the traditional kitchen of the Puerto Rican side of my family. While one person took care of trimming the plantain leaves, others were busy grating the vegetables and making the sofrito. There the vegetables are grated by hand, though you can find machines designed specially for this purpose in any market or use a food processor. Puerto Ricans are extremely fussy about the wrapping—it has to be perfect and watertight because pasteles are normally boiled. But I prefer to steam them.

For seven centuries, Moors and Christians fought one another in Spain, but in the guise of black beans and rice they surrendered to each other's charms within the all-embracing New World pot. Like the hybrid culture that flourished in medieval Spain, the rice dish known as moros y cristianos is an exemplar of exchange between civilizations. It is feast food in Cuba, where you'll find it in the western provinces. Considering that there is a Veracruzan version of this dish and that Cuba always imported black beans from Mexico, we are left in doubt as to which version came first. Regardless of its place of birth, it is one of the most felicitous rice and bean combinations I have ever tasted. The flavors of all the other ingredients are absorbed seamlessly by the rice, the vinegar providing point and counterpoint to the mealy beans, the aroma of cumin and oregano a subtle backdrop for the meaty smoked bacon, which in turn joins forces with the olive oil to add aroma and sheen to the rice. And then the color, a dark brown or hybrid of white and black.