In Danish, this dessert is called rødgrød med fløde, literally “red porridge with cream,” though in this type of porridge, there are no grains—just peak-season berries (and sometimes rhubarb) gently simmered into a silky and tart fruit soup.
Fruit porridges are common across Scandinavia, from blueberry to rose hip, made with fruit harvested at the height of its season. A piece of advice about sugar: Start with less—you can always serve a little extra at the table for those who want more sweetness.
If you ever visit Denmark, be prepared: Danes delight in hearing foreigners trip over the famously tricky name of this dessert in Danish. It took me ages to master it myself, but now it rolls off my tongue as smooth as the cream that gets poured over each serving.
There is nothing more comforting than a light and fluffy sponge, overflowing raspberry jam, and too much vanilla bean whipped cream. To achieve the cake’s perfect spongy texture, be careful to not overmix the batter once the flour is added. When making the whipped cream, don’t substitute vanilla extract for the vanilla bean paste—you won’t get the same warm vanilla notes that this cake needs!
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.
When I studied abroad in Rome, my curriculum was supposed to be focused on architecture, but the education I actually took home was how good down-to-earth authentic Italian cooking could be. One of the most memorable things I ate that year was asparagus simply topped with grated Parmesan. That’s it! That’s all it needed to be perfect. Since asparagus is one the stars of the spring season, I like quickly roasting until it’s perfectly tender and then spooning on this light spring jacket of a Parmesan sauce. And while I personally only wear a light spring jacket one or two days out of the year, I find this sauce gets worn much more frequently.
There will be no buttercream in this book. I find it persnickety and overly sweet. Layer cake is an act of balancing flavor—if the base is sugary, as most cakes are, the fillings should introduce tang. Fruit is great for this purpose, but in winter, when fresh berries seem like a distant memory, or I’m sick of citrus, I turn to dairy for an acidic punch: cream cheese, labneh, or sour cream. Rather than relying on my unsteady hand to level the cakes, I bake three layers individually. I use Natasha Pickowicz’s stress-free method for building cakes, constructing the layers in a deep, sturdy cake pan or pot so the layers remain stable. Together, the tender chocolate cake, coconut custard, and dark chocolate cream cheese frosting taste like heaven. The addition of coconut flakes on the exterior adds a pleasing crunch and hides any crumb coat missteps. This base recipe also works beautifully for a single layer cake; just divide the recipe in half and bake it in a 9-inch (23 cm) round cake pan.
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.
If you like alla vodka, you’ll love alla mezcal. In the classic vodka version, the ethanol in the alcohol is used as an emulsifier in the sauce but doesn’t really add any flavor. Since more flavor is more better, I decided to try swapping out my favorite adult beverage, and the result was a smoky take on the Italian American classic.
This creamy marinara sauce is great tossed with any dried pasta for a quick and easy weeknight dinner that will leave you thinking, “Why didn’t anyone try this sooner?”
A gratin is such a good way to sneak in vegetables: they may be surrounded by lots of cream and cheese but you’re still getting a few of your five a day! This is always a crowd-pleaser; it has a rich, velvety texture from the potato and the celery root and a lovely sweetness from the leeks. Children always seem to enjoy this one so it’s a perfect way to get them eating the vegetables they might not usually eat. It’s also quite fun to assemble and a great way to get them involved in the kitchen.
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.