Beer

Make a Thanksgiving dinner, Southwestern style, any night of the year with this stuffing shortcut.

Fajitas are fun, but a lot of work at the table. This recipe switches up a cornbread crust for the flour tortilla and ground beef for the usual sliced steak. Reinvent a fun food, tonight, with Fajita Beef Pie!

The word borracho was a nineteenth-century north-of-the-border term for a drunkard, and so the name of this recipe literally means “drunken pinto beans.” Simmering the pintos in beer and fresh cilantro gives them a unique flavor.

Chuck roast needs to be tenderized by marinating it in an acidic mixture containing lemon juice, vinegar, beer, or wine. The roast should not be cooked to well-done, as it will not be tender. Cooked in the convection oven, the roast develops a deep, rich brown on the outside while the meat inside stays tender and juicy. For this recipe to work best, be sure to select a roast that is at least 3 inches thick.

Beef chuck, or shoulder, offers excellent cuts for stews and braises, because the meat is extremely tasty and, over long cooking, all the connective tissue adds flavor and body to the dish. For this braise (and the Sugo alla Genovese, page 112), I especially like the compact chunk of meat cut off the top of the shoulder blade, which is known by many names, including “top blade” or “top chuck shoulder” or “flatiron.” This piece is usually sliced and packaged as steaks, but ask your butcher to give you a whole top blade, as a roast. The more common beef chuck or shoulder roast, which comes from the underside of the shoulder, would be fine in this recipe, too. (It might be called “chuck pot roast” or “under blade chuck.”)

Virtue Feed & Grain in Alexandria, VA, serves this take on an Old Fashioned, just one of their signature "hoptails."

On New Year's Eve 1996, we decided we wanted a warmer place to celebrate, so we jumped on a train to New Orleans, took a paddleboat down the Mississippi, and ate dinner while watching the fireworks. The next day, there was the Sugar Bowl game and the Court of Two Sisters on Royal Street, in the French Quarter, where we went for mimosas and brunch. This routine became a tradition for a few years—but now it doesn't beat toasting in the year with our girls, so we brought the flavors home. This recipe holds a particularly funny memory for us. One year we had a bowl of some of these saucy, spicy shrimp at a restaurant on the pier, just before jumping on the paddleboat. Pat couldn't keep the spoon away from his mouth, and he ended up spilling a tremendous amount of that dark roux down the front of his white sweater. So there he was, sipping champagne and watching the fireworks with a huge stain! He didn't mind a bit.

In winter, the section of our cupboard devoted to onions seems to grow exponentially, filled with all forms of eye-dripping lovelies: red and white onions, shallots, massive white-bulbed scallions. Grilling a sack of onions down to a cereal bowl of caramelized noodles is a rare fall pleasure. And few pillars of French cooking are as widely and voraciously loved as scalding hot onion soup cloaked in a blistering layer of melted Gruyère. But like with many epic dishes canonized by the cuisine of rural folk, vegetarians usually remain wholly uninvited. So how does one mitigate the beef stock in every single recipe of the gooiest of soups? Our "ah-ha moment" was beer. After trying small batches of all three colors of the proverbial tricolore (blue, white, and red) we settled on Chimay Blue, a dubbel style beer that's become a household name for boozers. This so-called grande réserve, or any other basic dubbel, is a super substitute for the essence of animal gore. The malts and sugars play on your tongue in a way that's strikingly similar to the flavor of liquefied fat and tendon.

At Peels in New York City, chefs Preston and Ginger Madson tweak this Low Country favorite with two secret ingredients: a little Budweiser and a lot of tasso, a Cajun-spiced ham, which you'll find at specialty foods stores and cajungrocer.com. You can sub in andouille sausage if tasso is not available.

"I created this pitcher drink for people to sip on their front porch, or for city folks to drink at our sidewalk café," says Damon Boelte, bar director at Prime Meats in Brooklyn. If you've never had a beer cocktail or, better yet, a cocktail made with drinking vinegars, let this be your introduction to two growing trends in the bar world. Look for Laird's Bonded Apple Brandy, a.k.a. applejack ($23), made by America's oldest family-owned distillery, at better liquor stores.

Best with beef, pork, lamb, game meats

Guinness, the Irish stout, gives the brine for these simple barbecued lamb steaks much of its punch. Like most dark beers, Guinness has a bittersweet molasses flavor, which is great with lamb. But the hidden power of a Guinness brine is its alcohol content (about 4 percent). Alcohol accelerates the absorption of flavorful components directly into the protein structure of meat, yielding a steak that not only retains about 10 percent more moisture, but also is able to deliver a hit of seasoning with every bite. The flavors of chipotle chiles and cumin in the brine are reinforced with a smoky rub and a dark, pungent Guinness BBQ sauce. A word of warning: the sauce burns easily, so only brush it on the meat at the very end of grilling. In fact it is more flavorful served as a table sauce, although the steaks do look nice varnished with glaze.

Serve these refreshing beer-and-lime coolers over ice.

This triple threat dessert offers three distinct textures and flavors: A nutty, crumbly crust is filled with a dark chocolate pudding enriched with bittersweet chocolate, cocoa, and chocolate stout, then topped with a billowy bourbon whipped cream. For more seasonal recipes, download the free Gourmet Live app and stay tuned to the Gourmet Live blog for the latest updates.

Micheladas are popular beer cocktails south of the border, and when you have one on a sweltering hot day, it's easy to see why. The flavors of a Bloody Mary, jazzed up with the oh-so-refreshing bubbles only a cold beer can provide, plus a bright squeeze of citrus to boot? Yeah, I'll be in my hammock if anybody needs me.

Home turf: Texas
Local flavor: Chili is practically a religion in Texas. The thick, meaty "bowl of red" dates back to San Antonio in the 1820s. By the 1880s, the city's plazas were full of pushcarts run by "chili queens" who would lure customers with live music. And Texans may argue about chili ingredients—but purists agree that the hearty stew would never, ever involve beans.
Make it a meal: Round things out with cornbread, iceberg wedges with artisanal blue cheese, and Shiner Bock (Texas, $8 per six-pack), a full-bodied Texas brew. A few tablespoons of masa (corn tortilla mix) is used to thicken this chili.