Alcohol

What do you call a ham without a glaze? A travesty. Here, we punch up the traditional boozy version with honey, molasses, and brassy red chiles.

Step one: Buy tamarind concentrate.
Step two: Make this cocktail.
Step three: Figure out what else you can do with the tamarind.

Make sure to use plain, unflavored rooibos tea, which will complement the other punch ingredients.

Choose an unaged aquavit like Aalborg.

The longer the spices infuse in the rum, the more flavorful it will be.

Shaking the egg white and other drink ingredients without ice—known as a "dry shake"—helps get the whites foamy without diluting the drink.

Beating the butter and sugar until light and fluffy is essential to this cake's moist, tender crumb.

Cook the figs until just softened: Overcooking or intense boiling will render them tough instead of lush.

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.

We use sparkling rosé wine here mostly for its color. Any decent bubbly will work as a substitute.

"If rum won't give you that warming glow of wellness, the hot tea will." -Benjamin Schiller, beverage director of The Berkshire Room

To cut baking time, fork the tuber a few times, then nuke for 5 minutes.

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.

This heirloom family recipe has the distinctive allspice aroma of the cooking of my hometown, Santiago de Cuba, the only part of Cuba where this complex spice is used in a pork marinade. The combination of cumin and allspice is especially characteristic of my family's cooking. Originally a Christmas dish, cerdo brujo is now one of the most popular dishes at my restaurant Zafra, where we celebrate Christmas every day.

I love how the fruitiness of Cluizel Concepción chocolate, mellowed by a little cream cheese, plays against the caramel and the flowery, slightly musky acidity of the blossoms (actually, calyces) called "Jamaica flowers" in Mexico and red hibiscus in this country. (They are what gives Red Zinger tea its color.) When I first developed this recipe, I used hibiscus to flavor the caramel, but now I include it in a separate sauce where its red color makes a gorgeous contrast with the dark flan. You will find that this flan is reminiscent of the classic cream cheese–fruit paste pairing that Latin Americans like in other contexts. For this recipe, do not use the spice marketed as "cinnamon" in American stores (it's really cassia). Look for the soft, flaky true cinnamon from Ceylon (Sri Lanka), which has a much subtler and more delicate flavor. You can find it in Hispanic markets under the name canela.

Daniel Boulud always had a preference for classic French desserts, so I developed this recipe for the lunch menu when I was pastry chef at Daniel. The dessert itself is very simple: We bake an undocked, thick round of puff pastry, letting it puff up high, and serve it hot, filled with Orange-Scented Pastry Cream and topped with a buttery caramel sauce and a few Candied Pecans. The puff pastry rounds should be baked à la minute, never ahead of time, though the dough can be rolled out and cut in advance, and stored, covered, in the refrigerator for up to a day. Sometimes the best desserts are the simplest.

Here's a good base recipe for using frozen berries to prepare a flavorful sauce. I find that frozen berries need to cook a little to make them less watery and to concentrate their flavor. Look for raspberries that come frozen in a bag. Feel the bag to make sure all of the individual berries are loose and not clumped together. Bags of frozen berries tend to taste better than those frozen in a block.

A hint of lemon is perfect in a creamy baked custard. This one has no caramel to get in the way of the lemon flavor. Lemon juice would be too overpowering here. Instead, the subtle lemon flavor comes from steeping lemon zest in the milk for the custard mixture. The heat of the milk extracts the essential oil from the lemon zest skin, and the milk absorbs the delicate flavor. The hints of cinnamon and vanilla are there to support the lemon, not obscure it. Raspberry sauce makes a perfect complement. I wouldn't dream of serving the custard without it.