Kwanzaa

This shrimp's gentle preparation yields an utterly soothing broth that tastes just right first thing in the morning. Grab some grits or a warm biscuit to help sop up the juices.

When a meat is "potted," it's usually preserved beneath a layer of fat or made into a paste such as shrimp paste or deviled ham. Miss Lewis, however, merely cooked the birds in an iron pot on the stove. She gives the option of roasting in the oven, and that's what we did because it plays up the contrast between the rich, tender, moist dark meat and the crisp skin. Miss Lewis would never waste any part of such a luxurious bird, so she chops up the livers and adds them to the bread stuffing, which may look unprepossessing but is actually delicious. This is a simple, elegant meal, so treat yourself to a wonderful Bordeaux.

If you read Edna Lewis's cookbooks, you will come to understand that southerners do not boil their vegetables to death. They cook them until they are perfectly, magnificently tender—and there's a big difference. Try this versatile side and see: It's absurdly easy and full of deep, sweet flavor.

Here, a velvety sauce studded with salty nuggets of country ham strengthens, rather than hides, the meaty savor of asparagus. But what we particularly love about this dish is the toast, made from a sturdy white sandwich loaf, one from a bakery (not from the packaged-bread aisle at the supermarket), the kind of bread that doesn't disintegrate under an extravagant topping but instead turns succulent.

This bread is turned out of the skillet to reveal a lovely array of whole sage leaves.

Tostones In many Latin American countries, crunchy tostones are as popular (and served as often) as french fries are here. A single bite of their salty crust and tender interior will tell you why they're so beloved.

Catfish stays tender and moist when baked in a crunchy crust of bread crumbs and cornmeal. A take on traditional New Orleans rémoulade adds a piquant punch.

Mama Sugar says this dish was common at Juneteenth celebrations years ago but is now seldom seen. It's a homey dessert, substantial and rich with butter and cane syrup, and it deserves a comeback.

This slightly sweet mash tastes great with roast pork or lamb.

Sheila Jacobs and Lynn Kramer of Abreu, Cabrera, Dominican Republic, write: "We're both from the U.S., but we have lived in the Dominican Republic for about 25 years. We're friends, business partners, and neighbors, so we entertain together often. Cooking the local dishes has made us feel a part of the country."

Named after the heart-shaped callaloo leaves from the taro plant, this traditional stew can be made with crab, lobster, and shrimp, or taro root and coconut milk. But all versions of the dish call for okra and, of course, callaloo leaves. Spinach makes a great substitute for the callaloo.

In Jamaica, this dish turns up by the seaside or near rivers, as janga (river crayfish) are often used. It is seriously, deliciously hot — wash the heat down with ice-cold beer. Using uncooked shrimp that have been deveined with the shells intact will make the shrimp much easier to peel.

It is said that eating Hoppin' John on New Year's Day will bring good luck. Here's a fresh take on the southern dish traditionally made with salt pork (we've subbed in andouille sausage) and served over rice.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are from The Glory of Southern Cooking by James Villas. As Villas explains, hoppin' John is eaten on New Year's Day because black-eyed peas look like coins and are considered lucky. Wanna know why this age-old dish of black-eyed peas and rice is eaten all over the South on New Year's Day to bring good luck? Because the peas look like little coins that swell when cooked, that's why. (Some say for ultimate success and prosperity, you should eat exactly 365 peas.) Stories abound about the obscure origins of the name hoppin' John, one being that, in antebellum days, a certain lame black cook named John hopped about a plantation kitchen on one leg while preparing the dish. Of course, the debate rages from region to region over the correct approaches to hoppin' John. Must the peas be served with rice? Should they actually be cooked with rice? Are tomatoes a key ingredient, and if so, should they be stewed and spooned over the peas and rice or simply chopped raw over the top? Should the peas be cooked till they're almost mushy or just al dente? Herbs added? Everything cooked in a saucepan or cast–iron skillet? Here's the way I do hoppin' John, which is wonderful with baked spareribs or braised country ham or chitlins — or anything else you can think of.

Three southern favorites—tender catfish, mellow roasted okra, and sweet corn—are united by an irresistible butter sauce.

Find a good-quality jerk paste, and it's like Caribbean magic—you can make a complete island meal in a flash.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from The Dooky Chase Cookbook by Leah Chase and are part of our story on Mardi Gras.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from The Dooky Chase Cookbook by Leah Chase and are part of our story on Mardi Gras.

This fried chicken recipe is excerpted from The Dooky Chase Cookbook by Leah Chase.