Dairy

Sometime during the first year of my marriage, I visited my mother-in-law in her kitchen. There she was, listening to the radio, whistling (she is a formidable whistler) and rolling cream cheese dough around raisins and nuts to form the crescent-shaped cookies known as rugelach. I was spellbound—I'd had no idea that rugelach could be made at home. As far as I knew, rugelach, like ketchup or ships-in-bottles, were only made in laboratories. But here was my mother-in-law shaping the cookies with ease. And a short time later, there I was, eating them with ease. These cookies weren't like the rugelach my mother bought every week at the local German bakery—they were much better. I was so excited I asked for the recipe.
My mother-in-law wrote it out in her precise hand on a 3-x-5 index card. And, as she wrote, she told me that this recipe was not exactly the same as the one her mother used, that it had come from Mrs. Strauss, her next-door neighbor, and that she was sure I'd have no problem making the cookies as long as I didn't overmix the dough.
She was right. I was a newcomer to the world of baking, but I had no problem with the dough, the only potentially tricky part of the process.
Since then, I've made rugelach countless times, but nowadays my dough is even more foolproof because I make it in a food processor. I've also made a few other changes to the recipe. While my mother-in-law's rugelach were filled with cinnamon-sugared nuts, mine also include a slick of jam, some currants and a handful of chopped chocolate. This is a very old recipe, and I have no doubt that everyone who has made it has added or subtracted a little bit to make it her own—and my mom-in-law, Mrs. Strauss, and I expect you to do the same.

A tartine is an open-faced sandwich usually composed of a slice of crusty artisan bread topped with a spread, vegetables, and sometimes meat or fish. They are usually served along with a soup or a salad to make a complete meal—definitely one of my favorites. In this recipe, figs, Serrano ham, goat cheese, and greens are piled on top of a savory hazelnut crust.

Chef Kris Wessel of Florida Cookery in Miami Beach, Florida, shared this recipe as part of a Palm Tree Christmas menu he created exclusively for Epicurious.

We're always experimenting with new flavor combinations, so once you get the basics down, have fun mixing and matching.

These addictive little fritters can be made in bite-size pieces perfect for cocktail parties, or slightly larger for plated appetizers. Their texture and flavor are reminiscent of hush puppies. Here the fritters are pan fried, but they can also be cooked in a deep-fryer at 375°F for about 3 minutes, turning them over halfway through cooking, until browned.

We love the way Dijon mustard enhances the similarly assertive flavor of the kale, while mellow pine nuts and Parmesan cheese balance it out. You can make this salad a day ahead; the flavors develop and deepen with a little extra time in the fridge. It's also delicious served warm or at room temperature.

Here, tiny puffs of amaranth and crunchy, nutty toasted wheat berries are suspended in lightly sweetened, tangy whipped cream and yogurt, along with whatever fresh fruit you have on hand. Serve it as a special breakfast treat, or add a little more sugar and call it dessert.

The key to this recipe is using a ripe, in-season peach. Here in Arizona, we get amazing peaches from the farms in the city of Queen Creek, as well as from Utah. It's always good to get to know the produce guys at your local grocery store because they will tell you when peaches are in their prime. Peaches contain numerous nutrients that are good for your body, including niacin, thiamin, potassium, and calcium. They are also high in beta-carotene, which promotes healthy hearts and eyes. The darker the peach's color, the more vitamin A it has in its pulp. Peaches may also help in maintaining healthy urinary and digestive functions. There's some evidence that flaxseed oil, which is a good source of omega-3 fatty acids, may help reduce your risk of heart disease, cancer, stroke, and even diabetes.

A sformato is essentially a soufflé that doesn't rise because there isn't any air or egg white whipped into it—foolproof! I serve it in place of mashed potatoes, since it has a great flavor without an excess of butter and cream. If I have people over, I'll bake it in individual gratin dishes with a few fresh thyme leaves on top for presentation's sake. Delicata squash has a flavor similar to that of butternut, but the skin is much thinner—edible, in most cases—and the squash is more delicate overall (hence the name). The flesh of a butternut or acorn squash would be a fine substitute. Cooking with squash in the fall and early winter months will yield the best results with this recipe. I find that out of season the squash become a bit waterlogged. You can do everything but bake the sformato in advance. Bring the dish to room temperature before baking.

After Hugh and I got married, just before I started writing this book, I started experimenting with vegetable dishes that could qualify as "man food." I came up with this dish featuring the fabulous combination of barely sweet squash and savory onions. At this point I count on one hand how many times I had made a tart, so I was pleasantly surprised when this went over as well as it did. I will not lie; this tart has a fair number of steps and will leave you with a sink full of dishes, but it's well worth it. If you like, you can make the tart shell, roast the squash, and sauté the chard a day in advance, then bring everything to room temperature before assembling it. Make sure that there are no holes in the tart crust and that it is completely cooked before adding the filling. I've had the egg mixture leak through the crust before, so hopefully I'm sparing you the same frustration.

There is not much to say about this salad—it is as charmingly simple and straightforward as it appears. You could likely just copy it without a recipe. The point I do want to stress, however, is the necessity of making your own salad dressings. There is all sorts of junk in store-bought dressings and they don't taste nearly as fresh—not to mention that it's ridiculously easy to whisk a few things together or put them in a mini blender. This particular dressing hovers around the vinaigrette family, with just enough crème fraîche to coat the leaves with the thinnest amount of creaminess. Be sure your leaves are cleaned and fully dry so the dressing can cling on. The recipe yields enough for the given salads, but I typically double it so I have extra on hand.

Braising the fennel and simmering the potatoes in cream before assembling the gratin infuses them with extra flavor.

For a bonus do-ahead, peel the potatoes the day before, place them in a bowl of water, and refrigerate to prevent browning.

Grapes appear here in three forms: crushed and whisked into the vinaigrette, halved and tossed with arugula, and aged in saba, a balsamic-like syrup made from grape must.

When I make a vegetarian entrée, it is always in the back of my mind that a minority of people eat this way, so I try to come up with things that are interesting and balanced for a vegetarian but that someone who does eat meat would find filling, or at least a satisfying side dish to their protein of choice. I try to use kale often, as its nutritional profile is quite impressive. In this dish, its short time in the oven helps it to retain most of its structure, but make sure that the oil really coats the kale, since if you use too little you will get something more like kale chips. If you use curly kale, which is less tender than lacinato kale, or you prefer your greens more wilted, you could sauté it quickly instead. I use lots of liquid in the millet, so the result is nice and soft but bound together by the sharply flavored cheese. The bits of millet are still detectable, but it has a comfort food texture. Whether you serve it as an entrée or a side is up to you.

Greek yogurt lends an unexpected tanginess to this light no-bake cheesecake. Use pomegranate juice that has been flash-pasteurized (such as Pom); fresh juice can turn brown when cooked.

Oval Masa Turnovers Throughout Mexico City and the surrounding states, people in all walks of life—bankers in suits and ties, college kids in T-shirts and jeans, women cradling babies—cluster around the tlacoyo vendor who makes their favorite version of this miniature football-shaped masa snack. Most are made with ordinary white or yellow corn, but a few vendors still serve tlacoyos made from the scarce blue-black corn. One day on the way from Mexico City to the popular getaway of Tepoztlán, Ricardo took me on a back road that was virtually enveloped on both sides by fields of nopal cactus. In this area, known as Milpa Alta, the tlacoyos are typically topped with a green salsa and nopales, and not surprisingly, we stopped for a quick, tasty snack. For a more colorful variation, add a contrasting tomato red salsa on half of each tlacoyo.

Well-Fried Beans To make the traditional Mexican well-fried beans, or frijoles refritos, you carry frijoles chinos one step further and fry them again in oil until they are even thicker. This is often done as the last part of a continuous process, or the beans are set aside for a day or two and then finished just before serving. In central Mexico, they are cooked until they are quite dry, but in the states bordering the Gulf of Mexico, they are cooked even more—to the point that they can be flipped over and shaped into a roll. These beans, perhaps with a topping of queso fresco, are a perfect partner for Enchiladas San Luis Potosí and similar enchiladas, soft tacos, or innumerable other dishes. The bean roll is often served as a botana for a casual gathering. Serve the beans as a side on the main plate. If they are shaped into a roll, transfer the roll to a warmed platter, sprinkle with queso fresco, and garnish with chopped white onion. Push some totopos in the top as a decoration and for scooping up the beans and then cluster more around the sides.

Fried Beans When Ricardo first came to Mexico City, he ordered beans in a small fonda and the cook asked, "Fritos o refrito?" (Fried or refried?) That was when Ricardo began to understand the various stages of bean cookery. The first stage, frijoles chinos, is a common way of cooking beans in and around Mexico City. The name confusingly refers to the way the bean texture resembles the tightly curled hair of African slaves brought to Mexico in the middle of the sixteenth century. This same preparation is typically called frijoles fritos by cooks in central Mexico, though it differs somewhat as the beans are served before they have absorbed all of the broth and are still somewhat runny. You can make fried beans from almost any type of dried bean. The diminutive black bean is commonly used in southern Mexico and red or brown beans are popular in the rest of the country. If you are in a hurry, an equal amount of canned beans may be substituted with additional water added to the can liquid if needed. These tasty beans are served in homes and in small market fondas almost any time of the day. They partner perfectly with grilled meat and egg dishes, such as Huevos al Albanil. Serve them in a separate small, flat dish or as a side on the main plate. A light sprinkle of fresh cheese will provide a color and taste contrast.

Frascatelli, a semolina dumpling, is the one homemade pasta suited for weeknight dinners. Just sprinkle water over a tray of semolina flour; the dumplings cook up in about a minute.