Ask someone what, exactly, red velvet is, and chances are they’ll stare back at you blankly. Nonetheless, red velvet remains the top-selling cupcake in America (“America” means BabyCakes NYC, of course). As I’ve come to understand it, the name dates to the time when people carried books with a belt and wore bonnets, and cocoa powder was still all natural and reacted with the acid in buttermilk and baking soda by turning it a reddish brown, an effect some precolonial marketing genius dubbed red velvet. You might be sad to hear that, historically, red velvet cake was appreciated primarily for its neutral (you can say it: bland) flavor and supple texture, which served primarily as a vehicle for frosting. While I obviously have nothing against frosting, I believe the cake should be more than a booster seat, so I’ve gone ahead and fixed that little problem for you. Thank me by baking these by the thousands.
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.
This classic 15-minute sauce is your secret weapon for homemade mac and cheese, chowder, lasagna, and more.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.
This is the type of soup that, at first glance, might seem a little…unexciting. But you’re underestimating the power of mushrooms, which do the heavy lifting.
I should address the awkward truth that I don’t use butter here but cream instead. You could, if you’re a stickler for tradition (and not a heretic like me), add a big slab of butter to the finished curry.