Cookbooks

Although Nelly Custis omitted sugar in her recipe for these lovely, delicate pancakes, published cookbooks of the period often suggested "strewing" sugar over them before sending them to the table. E. Smith, for one, additionally recommended garnishing them with orange, a suggestion also included here. This recipe can be readily doubled.

This recipe is adapted from one in The Lady's Companion (1753), a popular cookbook of the time. Mrs. Washington's sister Anna Maria (Nancy) Dandridge Bassett owned a copy that is now in the Mount Vernon library. This is an example of one of many "made dishes," including fricassees, hashes, and ragouts, enjoyed by the gentry from the Elizabethan period onward; these comprised "meat cooked and served in a flavoured sauce." Sauce was considered "an important part of all such dishes." This stew is best when made a day or so before it is served, giving the flavors time to blend.

Editor's note: Use Jim Lahey's no-knead dough recipe to make his Popeye Pie. While I'm not picky about the flour—either bread flour or all-purpose is fine—what does concern me is how the dough is handled. Treat it gently so the dough holds its character, its texture. When you get around to shaping the disk for a pie, go easy as you stretch it to allow it to retain a bit of bumpiness (I think of it as blistering), so not all of the gas is smashed out of the fermented dough. I prefer to hold off on shaping the ball until just before topping it. If it's going to sit for a while—more than a couple of minutes—cover it with a damp kitchen towel to prevent it from drying out. I offer you two approaches for shaping. The simpler one, executed completely on the work surface, is slower than the second, where you lift the disk in the air and stretch it by rotating it on your knuckles. Lifting it into the air to shape it is more fun, too.

The beauty of this salad is that it is vibrant proof that some terrific ingredients simply deserve each other, even if the partnership doesn't come to mind immediately. A cookbook-writing friend came to the restaurant one day, ordered this asparagus and avocado combo, tasted it, and kept muttering, "Genius, genius!" Not me. Nature did it.

This pizza is one of my most popular dishes, a kind of warm spinach salad on a crust. I've been serving it since the earliest days at Sullivan Street (its origins—how I came to make it—are now lost in the mists of memory). But, even today, to the best of my knowledge, I'm the only one who offers it. Try it at home, and right after that first bite, you'll see why it's one of the most popular pies I've ever devised. When I make the Popeye in my home kitchen, I deviate from the usual system in this book and bake it (as called for here) rather than placing it under the broiler. The image of that mound of spinach directly under flame just seems wrong—I'm not even sure what would happen, but it wouldn't be good.

Quivering cranberry slices that melt into the meat and slowly caramelize give this brisket its lovely character. Even better, it takes so little effort for this sweet alchemy to work. Roberta Greenberg, the long-time assistant to the rabbis at this well-known New York City synagogue and the keeper of this recipe, suggests reducing the sauce on the stove after reheating it if you prefer it thicker. It is good enough to make you convert.

Basically, this is what you'd offer your future in-laws to ensure their undying affection. This is a taste-great, feel-good classic Jewish brisket, but while the recipe has been in the family for years, Joan is not averse to a new tweak or twist: Add a jar of sun-dried tomatoes, dry or packed in oil, for a more intense flavor. Or add a 2-inch knob of ginger and a few large strips of lemon zest to the pot—remove them before serving. Note: "Not Too Gedempte Fleysch" means "Not too well stewed." I didn't know either.

This is the go-to recipe for knowledgeable brisket lovers. Who then share it with others. Who share it with—perhaps—the Obamas and other notable families. So warm and welcoming, the secret is what Nach did way before anyone else: slice the meat midway through cooking. If you serve this the day after you make it, reheat, covered, for about 1 hour in a 325°F oven.

I've been doing the previous marinades forever. This new one is first cousin to a good barbecued tofu: piquant, sweet-hot-rich, and scintillatingly tasty. The tofu is baked in the marinade/sauce, which cooks down and coats it, caramelizing them. You'll probably have to soak the baking dish overnight before washing it, but it's worth it. Vary this using fruit juice concentrate instead of honey or sugar, and adding extra ginger, orange zest, or both. For an incendiary smokiness, add chipotle in adobo.

A lot of commercial red bean ice creams are just your basic, junky, mass-produced ice creams made with inferior ingredients like gums and thickeners, with a little of the red-bean paste called anko stirred in. Not so the following: a custard-based, from-scratch ice cream, enriched with enough anko so that you really get both its flavor and the extra creaminess contributed by its starch. The vanilla is optional; some feel it detracts from the red- beaniness, but I think it enhances it. If you want to go to town with this one, serve it in scoops sprinkled with a little matcha (brightly colored powdered green tea), and offer matcha-flavored meringues alongside; you can make them from the egg whites you'll have left over from the ice cream. Those who are allergic to dairy products can make this using canned full-fat unsweetened coconut milk: substitute 4 cups for the milk and cream.

There are countless variations on this much-loved recipe, which has its origins in kosher cooking. By making a meatless (pareve) version of chopped liver, Jews who keep kosher get to enjoy a much-loved dish while sticking to the dietary requirements of nonmeat meals. While this is often served as a Sabbath appetizer, particularly in homes with Ashkenazic roots, and also as a seder dish, novelist Ellen Levine brings it to the annual potluck picnic that gathers together writers and illustrators of children's and young-adult books from all over new England. It's always swiftly scarfed up. As odd as it may sound to prepare a vegetarian spread whose name references an animal organ, somehow this dish lacks the turn-up-your-nose unpleasantness of many pseudo-meat dishes. Maybe this is because its origins are based in authentic foodways. But it could just as well be because it is very versatile and just plain good. as with all home-style dishes, from bouillabaisse to barbecue to gumbo, there are many versions of pareve chopped liver, and whichever one you grew up with is, to you, the one and only. I've attempted to give at least a nod to some of these variations following the main recipe, but this is my take on Ellen's. Try it as a sandwich spread or with crudités; or serve it with crisp crackers, toasted baguette slices, or, at Passover, matzoh.

Mixing up a batch of anko is simplicity itself. This is slightly less sweet than most Japanese versions. Feel free to add more sugar if you like, though this is plenty for me. Although most Chinese sweet bean pastes are sieved for extreme smoothness and incorporate oil or lard for a richer mouthfeel, I prefer this method, which is lighter.

Kyler Serfass, manager of Brooklyn Homebrew, shared this recipe as part of Epicurious' homebrewing primer and how-to videos. Cascadian dark ales, which are also called India black ales or Black IPAs, are dark hoppy beers that are growing in popularity among homebrewers.

This is the classic salad dressing, one I rely on all the time not only for salads but as a marinade for meats, to drizzle on crostini, and more.

I love these cheesy, salty, crispy wafers not only because they are so yummy, but because they are so versatile. I put them in bread baskets, add them to soups, and serve them topped with scoops of salad.

This is a robust dressing that is good with strongly flavored greens like escarole or spinach. It’s also very good on grilled foods and vegetables like potatoes, or as a dressing for chicken and pasta salad. Because the garlic thickens the dressing and gives it body, less oil is needed than for a conventional vinaigrette.

This simple recipe is not only great for bread-dipping, but can also be used to liven up the flavors in other dishes—as your cooking oil, or in salad dressing, or as a pasta topping, or just drizzled over grilled fish or meat.

This basic white sauce is what gives many pasta dishes, like lasagna, a rich creamy texture. It’s not hard to make and you’ll find lots of uses for it.