Corn

This vegetarian take on a traditional Mexican red pozole—pozole being the name not only of a type of stew, often made with pork, but also of the large dried corn kernels (hominy) integral to the mixture—is rich and satisfying. The accompaniments are an essential and fun part of the dish, adding some fresh crunch to the toothsome bite of hominy, beans, and vegetables. It's the perfect meal to have waiting on the back of the stove for family and friends as they straggle in from near and far for a holiday weekend.

This variation on the "little swamp" theme features sourdough bread and those ever-appealing Southwest seasonings: fresh chilies, cilantro, cumin, and corn.

Even though peameal has nothing to do with the bacon we know and love, many still refer to it as "Canadian bacon." They call it that in Canada, the place on both sides of Quebec—joking, joking....Part of the history of Montreal is an overdramatized opposition to Toronto. Maybe it's hockey, maybe it's the separatist thing, or maybe it's just a friendly rivalry. Regardless, we love Toronto. It's where our favorite butcher, Stephen Alexander, has his shops (Cumbrae's) and it's the national capital of oyster bars (Rodney's, Oyster Boy, Starfish). It's also home to Kids in the Hall, John Candy, the Black Hoof, and, of course, the Saint Lawrence Market, where you can get a peameal bacon bun with maple mustard. Peameal is not made with peas anymore. Like most aspects of life, ranging from food to plastic, peameal is being taken over by corn. We make our peameal with dried yellow peas crushed in the processor. The purpose of peas or cornmeal is to wick and dry, thus preventing spoilage. You will let the meat brine for a minimum of four full days, ninety-six hours, in the fridge. It is necessary to have a brine injector; they sell them nowadays for under ten bucks in big stores.

Polenta is cornmeal and comes in yellow and white as well as in instant form. Served on soup plates and eaten with a spoon, this soft polenta is topped with a mushroom stew that is particularly delicious when it incorporates some wild varieties. A satisfying side, the polenta can also be served in larger portions as a vegetarian main course.

Francis Butler grew up on the family ranch and continues to preside over the dry, windy land. The lonesomeness of ranch life, she says, was offset by "group cooks" such as the annual Thanksgiving tamale making: "Wild turkey hunting has been a West Texas sport for as long as anybody remembers, and tamale-stuffed turkey may have been an early tip of the hat to the Mexican ranch hands who've been around for at least as long as the turkey. This recipe dates back to the early 1900s. I got it from a family whose grandmother was German but had been raised in Mexico. I make it most often in the cold months, but I've been known to put a tamale-stuffed turkey in the roasting pit in my time, as well. You can use commercial tamales, of course, but I like the two-day ritual of making tamales and then making the turkey. I always double or triple the tamales and freeze the extra. These days people use more barnyard turkey than they do wild. Before you go thinking that's a sorry thing, let me tell you this. You feed your chickens or turkey some chile peppers before you decide. That spicy sweet flavor gets into the meat and you know what they mean when they say it doesn't get any better." This stuffing is also delicious in chicken and squab. Serve with high-quality corn chips, salsa, and sour cream.

Highway 84 runs from Santa Fe to Colorado. About forty minutes north of Santa Fe, the highway cuts a paved path through Ohkay Owingeh, a Native American reservation, and the roadside becomes dense with fast-food outlets, outposts of national grocery chains, Walmart, and billboards for Ohkay Casino, Hutch and Norma Naranjo's sprawling midcentury home is set about fifty years back from the road, a shrine to the tug-of-war between new ways and traditional ones. In the backyward Mr. Naranjo built two hornos (behive-shaped adobe ovens). Inside the house, a handmade wreath of dried chiles hangs on one wall and a string of made-for-tourists ceramic peppers on another. A naïve painting of St. Francis hangs not far from a cluster of the dream catchers that the couple and their two grown children fashion from string, feathers, and yarn, just as their Pueblo ancestors did. "We go to church one Sunday and dance the traditional dances the next," said Mrs. Naranjo. A retired social worker, she gives cooking classes and does a little catering. But she spends most of her mornings working the two-acre minifarm where she grows vegetables from seeds that have been passed from one Pueblo generation to another for at least a thousand years. "The history of our people is in those seeds," she says. In the evenings, when her husband builds hornos on the terraces of hotels and McMansions, Mrs. Naranjo visits the elderly women in Ohkay Owingeh, who remember life and cooking when it was closer to the land, and collects their recipes and food stories. "Our history lives in our hands as well," she says. Mrs. Naranjo moves with the efficiency of a modern professional as she smooths cornmeal paste on damp cornhusks. Tiny white kernels from several ears of heirloom corn, and diced green chiles and squash, along with a thick, bloodred chile sauce and shredded fresh cheese, are lined up in small stainless-steel bowls at the head of her tamale assembly line. She notes that tamales were stuffed with rabbit, venison, pork—whatever people had. Vegetable tamales were a fine way to make use of the gardens' overflowing crops. She swathes the dough, sprinkles filling, folds, ties, and places the tamale bundles on a rack set over water in a big enameled pot. From time to time, she glances out the window to the backyard, where her husband is feeding small, dry sticks into this new four-by-four horno. Her smaller tamales are, she says, her only concession to modernity: "People love the little ones as snacks, and Hutch and I love them in these green chile stews we make in the horno."

This veggie-licious burger provides 12 grams of filling fiber, nearly half of your recommended daily intake. Cool beans!

Serve this no-frills feast with cold beer and bowls of melted butter and steaming broth for dipping. The broth cleans the clams, particularly steamers, of any stubborn grains of sand. To serve 4, halve the recipe and divide ingredients equally between two large (8-10 quart) pots.

This recipe has been a New York favorite since the mid-'90s, or so claims Otto pastry chef Meredith Kurtzman: "I ate something like this at Gramercy Tavern first, and later at Babbo. So it's not really new." But few have done as well as Kurtzman to capture the season&151;and so much flavor&151;in each bite.

I just love cooking these little snacks as a starter. I like to think of them as the grown-up version of potato wedges with sweet chile and sour cream. Whoever came up with that combination deserves a medal. These cakes work well with shrimp, crayfish and even roast chicken but I especially like them with crabmeat. Enjoy!

Our favorite Mexican street food gets the crostini treatment.

This recipe presents a fun variation on the traditional dish of shrimp and grits associated with the southeastern coastal regions of the United States. Polenta, thyme, capers, feta cheese, and currants update the classic with Mediterranean flavors. The inclusion of honey injects just the right amount of sweetness to complement the dish's many savory flavors. I encourage the use of sustainably raised and harvested prawns here, as they exact a considerably smaller toll on our global aquatic ecosystems.

This easy Epicurious-exclusive recipe is from Chef Dave Northrup of Rush Street in Los Angeles. It's perfect for any Super Bowl or tailgating party. Just pick up an already cooked chicken at the store, shred it, add some fillings, roll up the tortillas, and pan-fry them.

Local island vegetables are used in this colorful dish offered at Jake's in Jamaica. Serve with brown rice or as a side dish with fish or chicken.

The technique: Cooking veggies over moderate heat for a bit longer than you would for a typical sauté helps meld flavors while retaining texture.
The payoff: Side dishes cooked on the stovetop preserve precious oven space.

Cooking the fish in olive oil makes it amazingly moist.

Both corn kernels and corn cobs are used to flavor the cream mixture that forms the base of this surprising dessert. The sweetness of the corn is great with the caramely sauce.