I come back time and again to this pie (or, in the more American sense, tart). It is as much a staple at a festive party (topped with whitefish or salmon caviar) as it is at a simple dinner with friends. Creamy, salty and full of flavor, it is ridiculously easy to make. Traditionally, we make it with Västerbottensost, a Swedish hard cheese with a sharp, salty character. You might find Västerbottensost difficult to track down, so an extra sharp cheddar or aged gruyère works just as well.
Sitting gracefully somewhere between an ice cream cake and a pavlova, the vacherin is an effortlessly chic French showstopper of a summery dessert. It is made with layers of ice cream and sorbet, sandwiched between crisp meringue disks. Wrapped tightly in plastic wrap, it can be made ahead and kept in the freezer for up to four weeks.
When you are ready to serve it, simply decorate it with whipped cream, plain or infused, and fresh fruit, herbs, or flowers. If you are feeling extra decadent, you can pour chocolate sauce, hot fudge, or caramel sauce over slices of the cake table-side.
My recipe uses homemade mango sorbet and mint and basil ice cream, but I have also made vacherins with store-bought ice cream, when I wanted to make something delicious but didn’t have access to an ice cream maker.
This giant crumbly cookie is a specialty of Mantua, in Lombardy. But I first tasted it at a cooking class at the home of a chef from Parma, in Emilia-Romagna, where it is also popular. This makes sense, as Parma is just about an hour south of Mantua, and popular cookies tend to travel beyond their place of origin.
Also known as torta sbrisolona, the name of this cookie roughly translates to “crumbly cake.” It comes from the verb sbricolare, which means “to crumble.” The cookie was once upon a time prepared by farmers using simple ingredients that they were likely to have on hand—flour, cornmeal, sugar, a little lard or butter, and almonds. It was eaten as a snack to revive them after a long morning of work.
When assembling your sbrisolona, resist patting the sandy dough into the pan too firmly. It needs to be loosely packed in order to yield that fall-apart texture that makes it so irresistible. Once baked, it is customary to break this cookie into irregular pieces for serving, though you can cut it with a knife for a neater presentation.
When I think of the foods that truly symbolize growing up on Long Island, one of them has to be the humble corn muffin. Bagel shop (or, as we call it, “bagel place”) and deli culture is something we Long Islanders take very seriously. Both establishments require great bagels, buttered kaiser rolls, bacon-egg-and-cheese sandwiches, thin chicken cutlets, massive slabs of crumb cake, overly sweetened iced tea lemonades (we call them half and halfs), and cakey corn muffins. No matter what you’re ordering, you always ask for the side-car corn muffin, which is cut in half, buttered, and toasted on the griddle. You’ll be handed a grease-stained brown paper bag with a massive, yellow corn muffin inside, with a quarter pound of softened margarine plopped in the center. The muffin is somehow moist yet dry. And most of the time only half of it ends up in your mouth because it shatters into a million bits on your lap. (I still think my parents are cleaning crumbs out of their cars from decades ago LOL.) Despite the mess, they are a sweet and savory staple and something I will forever crave. When creating this recipe, I wanted all the flavors of corn muffins past—but with a slightly less crumbly texture for an even more enjoyable eating experience.
It’s a lover’s thing to start the morning with coffee and croissants, and though I am nothing if not willing, I’m not the best at making either from scratch. French toast is the way I oblige. The sugar at the end is the best part. It caramelizes over heat, and as it cools, sets to a crisp. I still relinquish the role of coffee maker but sometimes steal the grinds to add into the custard for a more toothed grit.
This Cottage Cheesecake recipe originated from my great-grandmother and was a cheesecake my dad and Springfield Creamery co-founder, Chuck Kesey, loved to make. Delicious crust, easy to put together and the cottage cheese gives it a richer texture. The crystalized ginger on top is a favorite, but we have often topped with fresh berries as well - perfect!
Inspired by the iconic Oreo, these sandwich cookies combine cocoa powder, peppermint extract, and crushed candy canes for some festive winter flavor. This is a cut-out cookie, and you’ll notice the rolling method is like that used for Soft Sugar Cookies. For the chocolate version, use cocoa powder instead of flour to dust your surface and rolling pin, so that the sticky dough stays dark and workable.
A coffeeshop staple that’s easy to recreate at home, these cakey cookies are nicely spiced and finished with a beautiful brown butter-maple icing. The recipe halves easily
A happy marriage between a roulade and a quiche! Usually roulade is sweet, but the technique works well for a savory treat too. The creamy celery root and parsnip filling adds a touch of luxury and finesse. I usually serve this as an appetizer, but it also makes an ideal veggie entrée to feed 4 people.
This cake is the epitome of summer: it’s sticky, jammy, fresh, and not too sweet. The browned butter and ground almonds give it a beautiful nuttiness, and it’s just dreamy with a dollop of crème fraîche on top, on a warm summer’s day.