Cookbooks

Soft pretzels, sliced German sausages, pickled garden vegetables, and roasted Brussels sprouts can all be dipped in this oozy cheese sauce for one amusing wintertime party. Swiss Alpine-style cheeses are the best choice for fondue, given their earthy, robust flavor and excellent melting quality. Substitute any easy-melting cheese for the Gruyère found in this recipe. Raclette, Emmentaler, Cheddar, Fontina, and Gouda are all delicious choices, and can be blended for a more complex flavor.

This Old World mustard recipe is an authentic replica of the sweet-style mustard that is served at any Biergarten in Bavaria. Prepare it at least a few days, and preferably a week, before you plan to dip your pretzels.

Toss chopped raw kale with sweet carrots, creamy avocado, and nutty farro for texture, then dress it in a garlic dressing reminiscent of green goddess dressing.

These savory puddings work as a brunch or side dish, with their corn husk "handles" making them look like cheerful sunflowers. After you remove the kernels from the cobs, you scrape the corn milk from the cobs with the back of a knife, then simmer the cobs in cream and milk. This mixture forms the base of the pudding batter, which you pour into corn husk–lined muffin tins. The result is part corn muffin, part soufflé.

Sorenson uses locally made House Spirits coffee liqueur, made with Stumptown beans, in this cold-brew cocktail. It's delicious, but hard to find outside of Oregon. In its place, use any other coffee liqueur.

While waiting for a main course to finish cooking, you can make this simple salad with the remnants of a bunch of broccoli. Or, you can integrate the shaved broccoli, which is sweet, mild, and tender, into other lettuce-based salads, or julienne the strips for cabbage slaws.

Mom's Russian "Hamburgers" Kotleti for lunch, kotleti for dinner, kotleti of beef, of pork, of fish, of chicken—even kotleti of minced carrots or beets. The entire USSR pretty much lived on these cheap, delicious fried patties, and when comrades didn't make them from scratch, they bought them at stores. Back in Moscow, Mom and I harbored a secret passion for the proletarian, six-kopek variety produced by the meat-processing plant named after Stalin's food supply commissar, Anastas Mikoyan. Inspired by his 1936 trip to America, Mikoyan wanted to copy Yankee burgers in Russia, but somehow the bun got lost in the shuffle and the country got hooked on mass-produced kotleti instead. Deliciously greasy, petite, and with a heavy industrial breading that fried up to a wicked crunch, Mikoyan factory patties could be scarfed down by the dozen. Wild with nostalgia, Mom and I tried a million times to recreate them at home, but no luck: some manufactured treats just can't be duplicated. So we always reverted back to Mom's (far more noble) homemade version. Every ex-Soviet cook has a special trick for making juicy, savory patties. Some add crushed ice, others tuck in pats of butter or mix in a whipped egg white. My mother likes her kotleti Odessa-style (garlicky!), and adds mayo as binding instead of the usual egg, with delightful results. The same formula works with ground turkey or chicken or fish. Buckwheat kasha makes a nostalgic Russian accompaniment. Ditto thin potato batons slowly pan-fried with onions in lots of butter or oil. I love cold kotleti for lunch the next day, with some dense dark bread, hot mustard, and a good crunchy dill pickle.

When you think about peppers, comfort food usually isn't the first thing that comes to minds. But to us, it means home, and for different reasons. Crystal's mawmaw always made great stuffed peppers, and we put that recipe in our first cookbook. And when Sandy tastes a poblano pepper, she's instantly reminded of this recipe, since Sandy's oldest sister, Yvonne, makes these for her every time she comes home for a visit! Poblano peppers are smaller and spicier than their bell pepper cousins, but they're not too hot. Fairly mild overall, they pack a ton of flavor. Best of all, they've perfect for stuffing with a variety of ingredients.

This dish comes together fast for a simple weeknight meal, and it's also elegant enough to serve to any important guest.

Citizens of Casseroleville, bow in the presence of the king of all baked dishes! This recipe gets two thumbs-up not only for being gluten-free, but also for allowing you to keep your blood sugar in check. By replacing lasagna noodles with thin layers of sliced zucchini, the carbs stay low, but the flavor is still full and zesty. We suggest using a mandoline for even slices and quick prep. Just be careful—those things are sharp!

This is an American-style Italian frittata or Spanish tortilla, an open-faced omelet that's a great last-minute brunch dish. The potato chips are layered throughout yet still retain their firm texture. (You don't even need to add salt to the eggs, because the potato chips provide the seasoning.) You can enjoy this warm or at room temperature, with sour cream on the side. Or if you're a ketchup-on-your-eggs person, use the San Marzano ketchup. (After I came up with this dish, I saw similar versions done by José Andrés and Ferran Adrià. A good idea is a good idea no matter how many people come up with it.)

My wife, Jazmin, is of Honduran descent. When you walk into her mother's house, everything is Latin-inspired, especially the cooking. This dish is a Latin staple, and because Jazmin likes it so much, arroz con pollo has become a staple for us. You can throw in half a bag of frozen peas toward the end to up the nutritional content. We serve it with a bottle of hot sauce on the table and a bowl of yogurt.

When you're making preserves, fully 50 percent of your success is in the shopping—good fruit makes good jam. Technique matters also, and a sound recipe makes a difference. But the crucial remaining factor is organization. Especially when dealing with a large quantity of perishable fruits or vegetables, you have to think through your strategy and plot out your work. If you can't get everything put up immediately, you have to take into account how the produce will ripen—and soon fade—as it waits for you. My strategy for how to use a bushel of peaches would look something like this: First day/underripe fruit: Pectin levels peak just before ripening, so I'd start with peach jelly. If you don't want to make jelly, give the peaches another day to ripen. First day/just-ripe fruit: Peaches that are fragrant and slightly yielding but still firm enough to handle are ideal for canning in syrup, as either halves or slices in syrup. Second day/fully ripe fruit: As the peaches become tender and fragrant, make jam. Third day/dead-ripe fruit: By now, the peaches will likely have a few brown spots that will need to be cut away, so I'd work up a batch of chutney, which requires long, slow cooking that breaks down the fruit anyway. Fourth day/tired fruit: Whatever peaches haven't been used by now will likely look a little sad, but even really soft, spotty ones can be trimmed for a batch of spiced peach butter. Southern peach chutney evolved from an Indian relish called chatni that British colonials brought home during the days when the sun never set on the Empire. According to The Oxford Companion to Food, chatni is made fresh before a meal by grinding spices and adding them to a paste of tamarind, garlic, and limes or coconut. Pieces of fruit or vegetable may be incorporated, but the chief flavor characteristic is sour. The British turned that into a fruit preserve, explains the Oxford Companion: British chutneys are usually spiced, sweet, fruit pickles, having something of the consistency of jam. Highest esteem is accorded to mango chutney… . Chutney later spread across the Atlantic to the West Indies and the American South, where the esteemed mango was replaced by the honorable peach.

June 24 is the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, the traditional day to harvest green walnuts for making nocino, a delicious liqueur invented at a congress of witches, according to Anna Tasca Lanza, the doyenne of Sicilian cooking. Lanza's witches were Italian, but other countries from Croatia to France to the chilly Teutonic regions equally claim greenwalnut liqueur as their own. I learned to make it at the Institute of Domestic Technology, a cooking school in Altadena, California, where I also teach. When you harvest the nuts—working barefoot, according to some folklore—they are smaller than eggs, smooth to the touch, and crisp like apples, because the shells have not yet hardened. The nutmeats, at this stage, are jelly. Like most liqueurs, nocino is easy but requires patience. You slice the nuts and cover them with strong booze, sugar, and spice, and allow the mixture to infuse for forty days, until it is nearly black. The real test of patience begins after you bottle it. Ten-year-old nocino is said to be the best, and certainly you would never drink this summer's batch before cold weather sets in this fall. Mature nocino has a complex flavor of nutmeg, allspice, coffee, and caramel. Drink it neat as a digestif, or use it to flavor desserts. A few tablespoons of nocino lightly whisked into a cup of heavy cream will cause it to seize, as if magically transformed into cooked custard. The thickened cream is called "posset," and can be used as a sauce alongside cakes or other desserts. My nocino recipe is based on those from the Institute of Domestic Technology and Lanza's Sicilian cookbook The Garden of Endangered Fruit. Its fundamentals are green walnuts, 80-proof grain spirits, and sugar. (My secret ingredient is coffee beans.) You can change the aromatics if you like, but use small quantities, because the spices can take over. Green walnuts are sometimes available at farmers' markets, or can be ordered online at www.localharvest.org.

Toasting the curry powder with other aromatic ingredients before adding the liquid intensifies the flavor of this quick take on chana masala. You can roast the cauliflower and tomatoes a couple days ahead; cool, cover, and refrigerate until ready to use.