Rum

Family: Punches—A very similar recipe for this punch was detailed in 1958 by David Embury, and following his instructions I use [simple syrup—without it, it's far too dry.](<epi:recipeLink id=)

Classic baked Alaska is turned on its head with these individual desserts from Elizabeth Falkner of San Francisco's Citizen Cake. Coconut, pineapple, passion fruit, and a rum-soaked sorbet lend a tropical twist. To save time, use store-bought pineapple sorbet.

Cabell Tomlinson, bar director at Frankies 570 Spuntino in New York City, grew up in the South, where, she says, "the summer air was scented with honeysuckle and lemon balm." Those childhood memories, along with a recipe for the classic Bee's Knees cocktail (rum, lime, and honey), inspired this thirst-quencher. It's equally good with lemon vodka (try Charbay Meyer Lemon Vodka) or white rum (we like Flor de Caña Extra Dry 4 Year). Lemon balm is available at many farmers' markets. Better yet, try planting pots of the prolific herb in your backyard.

Damon Boelte was aiming for something simple and accessible when he concocted this extremely refreshing, very British cooler. "Like a traditional Pimm's Cup, this recipe works well with other spirits, including bourbon, rum, and tequila," he says. "You have my permission to experiment." St-Germain liqueur, made from Alpine elderflowers, brings a floral note.

This crumbly shortbread is studded with dried currants, which are tiny raisins made from Zante grapes. The currants must be soaked overnight, so you'll need to plan your craving a day in advance.

All of the flavors of the tropics make an appearance in this sensational, lemon-hued punch-banana, rum, pineapple, and orange. Serve this at a BBQ featuring great pork ribs.

When we cook with friends at Silvia Baracchi's school, Cooking Under the Tuscan Sun, we often whip up this very simple dessert. I never thought of chocolate as seasonal, but in Tuscany, it's considered more appropriate for fall and winter. Seldom do you find it on a summer menu, perhaps because we have a plethora of plums, melons, and white peaches for hot weather dolce. With this, Silvia suggests a full-bodied sweet red wine with enough alcohol to "clean your mouth." Her choices are a passito from Pantelleria or an aged Recioto. I'm partial to the passito from Arnaldo Capraia.

This aphrodisiac-laden mocktail comes from NYC's Museum of Sex and is a perfect way to set the mood on Valentine's Day. This recipe makes enough cinnamon and cardamom elixirs for eight drinks; if you're making only two, refrigerate both elixirs and they will last up to two weeks. If you can't find granulated honey, substitute raw cane sugar. The saffron rock candy garnish is optional, so feel free to skip it—the Lucky Devil still has plenty of aphrodisiac power without it. To make the Lucky Devil alcoholic, add two ounces of rum, Calvados, or vodka to each drink.

This aphrodisiac-laden mocktail comes from NYC's Museum of Sex and is a perfect way to set the mood on Valentine's Day. This recipe makes enough vanilla elixir, chile elixir, and coconut sea salt for eight drinks; if you're making only two, refrigerate both elixirs and store the salt in an airtight container at room temperature (they will last up to two weeks). To make the Azteca alcoholic, add two ounces of rum or vodka to each drink.

The islands are big—both on TV and in cover girl Brooklyn Decker's pic Just Go With It. Take a blissful insta-vacation with this libation from Lu Lu's Waikiki in Honolulu.—Ashley Mateo

The minty mojito is taken to a sparkling new level with this variation on a tropical themed drink. It is remarkably refreshing—an excellent opening act for an evening of fun and fine dining.

My friend Marie-Hélène Brunet-Lhoste is a woman who knows her way around food. She's a top editor of the Louis Vuitton City Guides (and one of the restaurant critics for the Paris edition), so she eats at scores of restaurants every year, and she's a terrific hostess, so she cooks at home often and with great generosity. There's no question that she's a great home cook, but for me, she's the most frustrating kind of cook: she never follows a recipe (in fact, I don't think there's a cookbook to be found on her packed bookshelves), never takes a note about what she does, and while she's always happy to share her cooking tips, she can never give you a real recipe—she just doesn't know it. I've watched her in her kitchen, in the hopes of nabbing a recipe by observation, but it's impossible. Like so many really good cooks, Marie-Hélène starts off with a set of ingredients that could be annotated and recipe-ized, but, once she starts mixing, stirring, boiling, baking, or sautéing, she makes so many mid-cooking adjustments that you just have to throw up your hands and content yourself with being the lucky recipient. And so it was with this apple cake, which is more apple than cake, rather plain but very appealing in its simplicity (the chunks of apple make a bumpy, golden top) and so satisfying that we all went back for seconds. Despite knowing that it was futile, I asked for the recipe, and, of course, Marie-Hélène didn't really know. "It's got two eggs, sugar, flour, and melted butter—oh, and rum," she said. "I mix the eggs and sugar together and then I add some flour, some butter, some flour, and some butter." When I asked how much flour and butter, I got a genuinely apologetic shrug, and when I asked what kind of apples she used, the answer was, divers, or different kinds. Since there were only a few major ingredients, I thought I could figure out the recipe—and I did! (Although not on the first—or second—shot.) I've added baking powder to the mix (and I have a feeling Marie-Hélène might have too) and a drizzle of vanilla, which you can skip if you want. What you don't want to skip is the pleasure of having diverse apples. It's really nice to mix up the fruit, so that you have some apples that are crisp, some soft, some sweet, and some tart.

The flavors of a classic Mojito (mint and lime) are blended into a slushy, easy-to-drink cocktail. For a large party, triple the recipe and store the drink in a pitcher in the freezer for up to an hour. Stir to blend before serving.

One of my favorite dishes at Brazil a Gosto, chef Luiza Trajano's elegant restaurant in São Paulo, is a baked cocada (a coconut candy made of coconut and sugar cut into squares) with lemon sorbet. It is so delicious that I had to experiment with it back in my American kitchen. I have to admit I am very happy with the final result and I think you will be, too. This is an unpretentious and easy dessert to assemble. You can prepare everything in advance and just bake it on the day of serving.

Craig promises that if you follow this recipe, you can make dizzyingly delicious Chinatown char siu ribs at home in the oven or on the grill. That makes them a great choice for the winter, when you've got a hankering for ribs and the smoker is snowed in. Many Chinese restaurants use spareribs that are chopped into 3- to 4-inch riblets. If you want, your butcher can make you riblets with a band saw. Craig likes baby backs for this recipe because they are a bit meatier. You can also substitute 4 pounds of pork loin for the ribs if you wish. The booze is important for the marinade because it helps penetrate the meat, and even if you're a teetotaler, don't worry—there isn't any measurable alcohol in the ribs. If you must skip it, use apple juice or water. You can buy char siu sauce at Chinese specialty stores, and it makes a fine glaze, but it doesn't make ribs that taste like Chinese restaurant ribs. That's because you need to marinate the meat in a thin sauce first.

Floating islands are similar to snow eggs but are baked in the oven in a bain-marie (water bath). The dessert can be made in individual portions, as here, or in a large soufflé mold. The bottom of each mold is coated with a caramel finished with butter to keep it a bit softer. The filled molds are then cooked, surrounded by water, in a roasting pan. Some of the caramel adheres to the bottom of the dishes when the floating islands are unmolded, but some of it drips down over the desserts to mix with the custard sauce. The rum-custard sauce is made with fewer egg yolks than traditionally called for in a custard cream. The milk, cornstarch, and sugar mixture is brought to a rolling boil and poured directly on top of the yolks. Because of the small proportion of egg yolks to milk, the temperature of the mixture rises to 180 degrees, ensuring that the lecithin in the egg yolks wil thicken. The sauce doesn't need further cooking and is strained to eliminate any curdled pieces. Here the custard sauce is flavored with rum, but it could be flavored with cognac, bourbon or vanilla instead. Floating islands can be cooked a day or so ahead and kept, covered, in the refrigerator so the tops don't get rubbery. Covering also keeps the dessert moist, preventing the sugar from hardening around the edge of the molds, and thus making the floating islands easier to unmold.

From piña coladas to rum and coconut water, the fruit of the coco palm seems a natural pairing with the elixir of the cane reed. Here is a different twist on the rum and coconut theme—one that can be made in a larger quantity and kept on the sideboard or the bar until ready to serve. It only gets better.