Not a traditional Florentine, this lacelike biscuit is the kind you just can't leave alone. Although its crisp lightness is quite extraordinary, you could brush one side with melted dark chocolate if you like, to justify the name and give it a more substantial texture.
This panna cotta is like eating vanilla ice cream.
These are my rendition of my grandmother's sugar cookies, the ones she used to make for us every week, sprinkling the tops of the cookies earmarked for my brother and me with cinnamon sugar and the tops of those meant for our parents with poppy seeds. Actually this recipe is a composite of grandmother recipes, from mine and my husband's (with an Aunt Bertha recipe tossed in for good measure), all of which were written on small recipe cards and fingerprint-stained long before they came to me.
Back in the day, home cooks used to clip recipes from women's auxiliary books and the Sunday papers, or they'd find them on the label of a trusted brand. My mom made her pecan pie from the recipe on the back of the Karo corn syrup bottle. She even called it "Karo pie." Our version of this classic pie is rich and buttery and features plenty of crunchy Georgia pecans and a shot of Kentucky bourbon.
This piecrust is revolutionary. It's a press-in crust, with no rolling or chilling required. Plus, it's buttery and flaky, and so easy to prepare it just may give you the courage to go forth and make a pie on a whim. You can use either granulated sugar or light brown sugar. Both are equally delicious here.
I cannot imagine a holiday without this traditional Southern pie on the table. I use almost every spice in the cabinet to add depth and warmth to the silky filling. Serve it with a big dollop of whipped cream, with a dusting of freshly grated nutmeg on top.
Do you love cream cheese icing? Do you consider it the best part of carrot cake and red velvet cupcakes? If so, then you need to try this recipe. It's old-fashioned, and it takes a little more time, but oh, it's worth it. This is so creamy, so rich — and it tastes of cream cheese all the way.
Quince is the most luscious fall fruit, but not as widely known or easily found as it should be. It holds its secrets tightly inside; quince is very astringent and not pleasant to eat when raw, but when cooked with sugar it turns coral-pink and delicious. It's also very high in pectin, which means that it is practically perfect for sorbet. This fragrant sorbet, spiced with star anise and vanilla, is thick and smooth — more like a sherbet than an icy sorbet — and it makes a wonderful accompaniment to autumn gingerbread and apple cake.
This is a cake that should come with a warning: Only proceed if you love molasses. If you do love molasses and its dark, bitter sweetness, then proceed immediately, and with haste. This cake is dark, fudgy, damp and rich. It's like a chocolate cake for people who don't like chocolate.
Crème brûlée is simply one of the sexiest recipes going. You know that tap-tap moment, when the caramelized crust shatters, and you dip into the creamy custard below? Heaven. The rustic burnt topping makes each bite different and more delicious than the last. I confess, though, that I find classic crème brûlée a little fussy. I do make it and love it (see our basic crème brûlée recipe here), but when I was working on my forthcoming book about pudding, Bakeless Sweets, I wondered whether there was an easier way. Could I make crème brûlée without the oven and water bath?