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.
These beautiful pastries can be found in many Chinese bakeries, particularly throughout Hong Kong. We’ll use the same fluffy dough as that of the sausage-filled Czech klobásník (page 112), but instead of leaving it whole like a pig in a blanket, the hot dog–filled pastry is sliced and twisted to form the shape of a flower before being topped with sesame seeds and scallions. Once baked, the flowers are glazed with sugar syrup to give them a nice sheen.
In LA, you can’t walk far without stumbling upon a taco stand that’s offering some of the best tacos you’ve ever had. I was inspired to start my own food cart, Thum and Thum, in the heart of Koreatown. Instead of tacos, though, I sold the kind of street food you’d find in Laos, like spicy, pungent papaya salad bursting with bold flavors. LA’s rich diversity is an exciting playground for culinary innovation, a place where foods from different cultures evolve naturally, and sometimes intermingle. A few years after I started Thum and Thum, this laab taco was born, a product of my love for both Lao food and LA’s taco culture. The crispy rice paper shells are filled with flavorful pork laab and topped with a cooling avocado crema. Each bite perfectly captures my Lao- Cali experience.
The secret to these potatoes is covering and then roasting them with enough liquid to add some moisture to the flesh of the potato while infusing them with flavor at the same time. They’re a little melty and a little moist. The first time my friend Lily saw them, her reaction was “Yum!” This one’s for the sweet potato lovers.
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’s no denying fish tacos taste better at the beach, but this version with a smoky spice blend will hold you over until those sunny days. I’ve ditched the stress and mess by baking instead of frying, keeping things crisp without the hassle. The herby, tangy cilantro slaw gets a quick cure from lime juice, agave, and salt, while avocado, crema, radish, and extra cilantro bring the crunch and creaminess. Use any white fish you like—just adjust the cook time based on thickness. Serve with Mexican Rice (page 242), No-Mayo Esquites (Mexican Street Corn Salad) (page 233), and the Holy Trinity (page 31) for taco bar heaven.
This dish was on Suerte’s opening “Vitamina T” menu, and it counts as the only recipe from the restaurant to be immortalized in this cookbook because: (1) it’s just that special, and (2) we couldn’t stand waiting for the official Suerte cookbook any longer, Fermín. Here, boiled beets are tossed in a smoky-sweet-savory peanut-based salsa macha and rounded out with pickled red onions for an explosive finish.
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.
This is your morning meal prep game changer. You’ve seen acorn squash lurking around the grocery store or farmers’ market and most likely wondered what to do with it — and probably only considered it for dinner. That’s about to change. Simply roast a few halves at the start of the week, then fill them with whatever flavors you’re craving that day. Here they get a scoop of yogurt and granola, a drizzle of maple syrup, and some bananas on top. These bowls are proof that cozy and nutritious food can live in the same bite.
Convert the fish hater in your life (there’s always one).