Make Ahead

"Ingredients are considered 'spices' in Algerian cooking," says Zadi, and this slaw illustrates his point, with olives contributing saltiness, carrots and sun-dried tomatoes adding sweetness, and fennel and parsley lending an incredible freshness. In the dead of winter, when vegetables are scarce, the clean flavors of this salad are as close as you're likely to get to a summertime farmers market.

There's character to spare in this layered flatbread, called msemmen in Arabic. The dough is rubbed with spiced oil, rolled into a spiral, flattened, and then cooked on a griddle, for a flakiness that's surprisingly substantial. Zadi likes pairing the flatbread with an acidic dish, which is why we recommend it with the <epi:recipelink id="241504"" target="_new">shrimp charmoula</epi:recipelink>; but, as he points out, the bread actually goes well with the entire meal, so plan on leaving it on the table from Start to finish.

Every spring when the first crates of fava beans are delivered to the kitchen at Piperade, I can almost hear the collective groan from my kitchen staff all the way from my home twelve miles away. I like favas and use them as often as I can when they are in season, but I have to admit they are labor-intensive, requiring both shelling and peeling. However, from my perspective—and judging from the number of orders we get from our guests—they are worth the work. At home, I hand them to my sons to shell while they watch a baseball game on TV, or I enlist guests before dinner. This recipe is simplicity itself and allows the sweet, nutty flavor of the favas to shine. Try to find small beans; older, larger favas are too starchy to use here.

Don't let the delicate look of these hors d'oeuvres fool you. A touch of cayenne gives them a hint of heat that makes them a tasty accompaniment to a pre-dinner cocktail—or even a cold beer.

Turnips are appreciated in Algeria not only for their faithful ubiquity but also for how their characteristics change throughout the winter—sweet and mild at the beginning and assertively earthy toward the end. Here, to emphasize their natural nuttiness and complexity, they're gently glazed with butter, then sprinkled with garlicky toasted bread crumbs and abundant poppy seeds.

A basket full of freshly baked rolls adds a welcoming touch to any holiday table. Combining the crunch of a cracker with the tender yeastiness of bread, these little numbers are especially fun.

These wafer-thin cookies may have been created with Passover in mind, but their shattering crispness and perfume of almonds and lemon make them alluring at any time of year.

Haroseth, a thick condiment of fruit, nuts, and wine, symbolizes the mortar the Israelites used in Egypt. Roberts's particular mix of almonds, pistachios, dates, and dried apricots, reflective of the Middle East, is outstanding (note that we prefer the sweet-tart complexity of California/Pacific apricots to the bland sweetness of Turkish ones). Enjoy leftover haroseth slathered on matzos or crackers; we discovered it's great with Manchego cheese as well.

Food editor Melissa Roberts learned the ins and outs of making escabeche—a Spanish dish that preserves fish by frying it, then pickling it—at Alicia Juanpere's Catacurian cooking school, near Barcelona. As the fish (in this case, robust sardines or mackerel) absorbs the vinegary dressing over time, its flavor deepens, picking up the notes of paprika and cinnamon, orange and lemon.

This comforting dish marries the simplicity of meatloaf with the flavor and depth of a French pâté. Leftover slices naturally make terrific sandwiches, but they're also wonderful panfried in olive oil.

Why should kids have all the fun? A lovely way to keep the conversation going long after dessert, these soft, aromatic little confections are like Peeps for adults. Lillet perfumes the marshmallows with orange and honey notes and gives them a haunting buzz.

This salsa verde, which balances a meal full of spiced dishes, would also complement anything from grilled steak to steamed vegetables.

Here comes the sun: Topped with graceful fans of candied fennel and bathed in a golden syrup, this lemony upside-down cake is a cheery sight. The fennel's subtle sweetness and beautiful form are quite sophisticated, but the cake's buttermilk crumb is pure homey delight. A cloud of whipped cream makes a fitting accompaniment.

This amazingly creamy nondairy flan has two stealth ingredients: almond milk and orange-flower water. The former adds richness but no strong almond flavor, which allows the orange juice and zest to shine. A smidgen of the latter boosts the fragrance of the fruit, but most importantly, it slips in something a little exotic that makes this dessert an absolute knockout.

Judging by the incredulous, delighted looks on the food editors’ faces when they swallowed their first spoonful of what is essentially cold, airy, whipped lemonade, this 19th-century dessert deserves a renaissance. The warm, sunny sweetness of basil infuses the accompanying custard sauce.

The color yellow symbolized joy for medieval Arabs, who were cultivating saffron in Spain by 960 c.e. Sephardic Jews were equally inspired by the coveted spice, and golden rice became a holiday and Sabbath tradition. This version, made with basmati rice, is punctuated by caramelized onion, currants, and fried almonds.

An easy marinade of garlic, lemon, thyme, and a dollop of the North African hot sauce harissa make these green olives memorable. If you can, prepare the olives ahead—they improve with age.

Simple savory tarts abound in Provence. A particular favorite includes slow-cooked onions, mellow and nearly as sweet as marmalade, punctuated with hints of the herbs that grow wild all over the region—in this case, fennel. Cooks are known to vary their crusts depending on the affair, from short, buttery versions to pizzalike yeast crusts; the latter is used here to keep the tart light.

What could be more French countryside than pulling a chilled bottle of homemade (or at least home-doctored) wine from the fridge for a special celebration? This orange sipping wine is a little sweeter and stronger than a regular glass of white, and it's the perfect aperitif for the onion tart with mustard and fennel .