Vegetarian

This tart and spicy condiment is always served with a Sadhya feast. It is especially nice mixed with plain rice and yogurt as a palate cleanser. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

In this surprising main course, Redzepi pot-roasts whole celery roots. Be sure to use small celery roots; larger ones will not cook evenly. The chef also cooks small heads of cauliflower in this way.

This Mexican dish of tortilla chips smothered in chile sauce is just as good for dinner as it is for breakfast. If you don't want to make your own chips, substitute your favorite brand, but don't skimp on the garnishes; they add color and freshness.

Stephen Cole, bartender at The Barrelhouse Flat in Chicago, created this dressed-up take on the classic gin and tonic for our story Spring Cocktails Perfect for Brunch. While you should feel free to use your favorite gin, for this absinthe-laced cocktail, Cole suggests trying Hayman's Old Tom Gin, which is slightly sweeter than more traditional English dry gin.

We use fresh lemon juice for this vinaigrette as often as we do vinegar.

South Indians don't use ghee in cooking the way North Indians do, much preferring their coconut oil. But they always have a spoonful with their parboiled rice and dhal. The first step of a Sadhya is mixing ghee, rice, dhal, crushed pappadam, and a little salt. This mixture is eaten by hand and forms the first bites of the Sadhya. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

Erisheris are thick curries traditionally made with yams or pumpkin, toasted coconut, and whole kidney beans. They are hearty and earthy, with a tropical twist of coconut and curry leaves. My variation, made with sweet potatoes, crosses over beautifully to a fall or winter menu; I've even served it for Thanksgiving. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

Serve with warm tortillas or rice to make a heartier meal.

To make perfect rings of fresh pineapple slice in 1/2"-thick circles, then round off the edges and punch out the core with 3 3/4"- and 1 1/4"-diameter cookie cutters, respectively.

This dough is chewy, bubbly, and better than what you'll get at most pizza places. It bakes wonderfully in a home oven, on a pizza stone or a baking sheet. And thanks to the brilliant no-knead method of Jim Lahey—owner of New York's Sullivan Street Bakery and pizza spot Co.— it's easy to prepare, deriving its character from overnight fermentation, not laborious kneading. Just remember to start at least 1 day ahead.

This quintessential Kerala vegetable curry marries many of the best ingredients of the region: coconut, curry leaves, green chiles, and a host of tropical vegetables. All the vegetables are cut into batons and poached in a spiced yogurt-coconut sauce. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

This aromatic mixture of split peas and vegetables is a staple in the South Indian diet. It always accompanies favorite snacks such as dosas (lentil crêpes) and idlis (lentil dumplings). A traditional Sadhya feast wouldn't be complete without this flavorful source of protein. Asafetida (a garlicky resin from the sap of a fennel-like plant; it's often used in lentil dishes) and fenugreek provide its pleasantly pungent aroma. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

I grew up on green beans thoren, and while I'll never tire of its crunchy deliciousness, I think adding corn makes it even better. And even though people don't often associate stir-fries with Indian cooking, this dish is a favorite in Kerala. It's a combination of diced vegetables and coconut, but the key is moistening the coconut so it can soak up the ground spices first. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

We love the way these quickly pickled, supercrisp pears play off the briny and intense kimchi.

In North India these legume wafers are called papad and are dry-roasted over a flame, but in the South they are deep-fried until they form lots of air bubbles and become light and puffy. They are sold in many flavors, but plain is preferred in Kerala. Pappadams are always part of a Sadhya: You crush one up and mix it together with rice, dhal, and ghee. The pappadam helps to bind all the ingredients together so you can form balls when eating with your hand. Store-bought wafers are used almost exclusively by Indian cooks because the traditional recipes are labor-intensive and require days of drying in the hot sun. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

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.

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.

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.