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Sausage

Baked Eggs with Merguez Sausage, Tomatoes, and Smoky Paprika

If you don't happen to have eight ramekins, you can assemble the sauce and eggs in a single baking dish and increase the baking time if needed.

Pasta with Grilled Sausage, Peppers and Eggplant

This dish turns the satisfying Italian American sandwich filling–sausage and peppers–into a hearty pasta dish.

Chorizo-Lemon Butter

Kielbasa and Cabbage Soup

Serve up the Polish pair as a hearty soup.

Charred Octopus Taco with Harissa, Chorizo Crushed Potatoes, and Pickled Ramps

These tacos combine tender grilled octopus with spiced harissa and piquant chorizo potatoes and are finished with the acidic bite of quick-pickled ramps.

Beans and Sausage

Earn bragging rights by seeking out the bittersweet choricero pepper and traditional blood sausage to cook with, or use the other ingredients we've suggested—this homey dish will still taste superb.

Klobasnek (Sausage Kolaches)

IF YOU MEET A CZECH TEXAN, he or she will politely inform you it's incorrect to use the term sausage kolache when referring to a sausage-stuffed kolache. When you scrunch up your face with confusion, the person will then kindly explain that the correct term for this savory pastry is klobasnek. But wait, let's back up here for a minute. If you're not familiar with a kolache, then you may be wondering what the heck I'm talking about. Allow me to explain. A kolache is a sweetened yeast roll that's been stuffed with a fruit, cream cheese, or a poppy seed filling. The roll is either square or round, and there's a well in the center to contain the filling. With a klobasnek, the dough is wrapped entirely around the filling, and the only way you can tell what's inside is to take that first bite. You find these pastries all over Texas, though they were first introduced in Central Texan Czech communities, such as the small towns of West and Caldwell. While the origin of the term klobasnek for the sausage-stuffed version is a little vague, The Village Bakery in downtown West has claimed provenance for the term. What's interesting, however, is that these Czech pastries are more associated with Southeast Texas than with Central Texas. The two pastries are different things, but some people still insist on calling them sausage kolaches. This doesn't bother me, but I can see how it could upset some linguistic purists. No matter what you call them, however, they are good. I like to eat them for breakfast, warm from the oven when the cheese is still melted and the sausage juicy with a snap. Though they are still good a few hours later at room temperature and can easily be reheated, too.

Sunday Sauce with Sausage and Braciole

Ask anybody's nonna: Making Sunday sauce is not an exact science. You can use other meats—like thick pork chops or short ribs—in place of or in addition to the ones listed here.

Dublin Coddle

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.

Royal Street Red Beans

The Creole dish of red beans and rice has been part of our cuisine for centuries. Traditionally, ham or pork was served on Sundays, and Monday was wash day. Because the beans could cook on the stove all day, it was the perfect meal to use the leftover ham and free up several hours away from the stove while tending to the laundry. You might even say this meal was one of our ancestors' original slow-cooker recipes!

Creamy Queso with Chorizo

In defense of Velveeta: Its texture is supreme.

Pan-Seared Sausage With Apples and Watercress

This 30-minute one-skillet dinner is just the thing for an October weeknight.

Acorn Squash with Kale and Sausage

Feel-good food: New research shows the vitamin C in acorn squash may help boost your mood.

Turkey Breast Stuffed with Italian Sausage and Marsala-Steeped Cranberries

As with biscotti there is an undeniable American-Italian influence at play here but, once again, I embrace this. Actually, though, American-Italian food has had its own influence on the cooking of the Old Country: these days, I am reliably informed by my Italian publisher and celebrated food writer, Csaba dalla Zorza, you can find dried cranberries with relative ease in Italy. The true Italian Christmas dinner is very much about the capon. Yes, you can find capons outside of Italy, although not everyone can quite cope with the idea of eating a castrated cockerel. Many understandably view old-school caponization with distaste, although it is considered ethically acceptable if the rooster has been chemically rather than surgically castrated. I don't know about you, but the idea of eating meat that has been flooded with the types of hormones necessarily involved here gives me the willies. Besides, my Christmas Dinner is my Christmas Dinner: unchanging, ritualistic, an intrinsic part of me. When in Rome, and all that, but if I'm cooking at home, I don't fiddle with my time-honored menu. I'm not going to give an evangelical tub-thump about my turkey brining techniques, as I've done enough of that in the past, but I am still open to other ways of celebrating the Big Bird and this recipe is a case in point. For me, it is perfect for any sort of seasonal supper party, but really comes into its own on a buffet table, as it carves fantastically and is as good (maybe even better) cold than hot, so you can make it in advance and then be the world's most unharried host on the night. You need to go to a butcher to get a while breast joint and you need to ask for it to be butterflied and boned and make sure the skin is left on. I know it might sound a bit of a faff, but take it from me that stuffing a while double breast joint is very much easier than stuffing and rolling a single breast joint, as is more commonly found in supermarkets. Basically, all you're doing here is opening out your boneless turkey joint, smothering it with stuffing, and folding it over. What you end up with, for all the ease of its creation, is nothing short of a showstopper.

Baked Mini Pumpkin Pots

I think "pumpkin pots" might just be one of my new word combinations. Pumpkin pots. Pumpkin pots. Pumpkin pots. It just makes me happy the way the words flow together. It also makes me happy the way the flavors of the pumpkin, sausage, herbs, and eggs come together in this perfect little side dish for fall feasts.

Turkey Gumbo

Chris Shepherd, executive chef and owner of Underbelly in Houston, Texas, shared this recipe exclusively with Epicurious. This Cajun and Creole classic is often served with rice, but Shepherd insists his version doesn't need the starchy side. Studded with turkey meat and andouille sausage, it's filling enough on its own. Making a solid roux is essential to gumbo, because the flour and fat mixture thickens and flavors the dish. For newbies, Shepherd recommends patience. Roux must be cooked slowly over low heat and it requires just about constant attention, so take your time and be prepared to stir. For more on Shepherd, plus four more chefs' recipes for transforming your Thanksgiving extras, see The Five Best Leftover Turkey Recipes.

Beer Cheese Fondue

Soft pretzels, sliced German sausages, pickled garden vegetables, and roasted Brussels sprouts can all be dipped in this oozy cheese sauce for one amusing wintertime party. Swiss Alpine-style cheeses are the best choice for fondue, given their earthy, robust flavor and excellent melting quality. Substitute any easy-melting cheese for the Gruyère found in this recipe. Raclette, Emmentaler, Cheddar, Fontina, and Gouda are all delicious choices, and can be blended for a more complex flavor.

Sausage and Broccoli Rabe Frittata

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.
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