Brandy

Unlike the creamy American dessert of the same name, puddings from Great Britain are dense and cakey. This small-scale version includes pureed dates and a splash of brandy; after baking, the puddings are coated with a delectable toffee glaze.

Elegantly piped ruffles of whipped cream and a fluted crust make for a decidedly more stylish version of the holiday classic. The velvety pumpkin mousse filling is flavored with all the traditional Thanksgiving spices—ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice—and a healthy dose of brandy for good measure. Graham-cracker crumbs are combined with cocoa powder in the crust.

This vibrant tart heralds the arrival of spring. First-of-the-season rhubarb stalks are poached in spiced brandy, then spooned over a silken citrus-and-yogurt mousse. The cornmeal crust is baked in a springform pan for extra height. You can bake the crust one day, fill with mousse the next, then chill overnight before topping and serving. The rhubarb can also be poached a day ahead and chilled separately.

Here’s a great weeknight dessert option—no rolling pin required. The cream cheese dough comes together quite easily, and is simply patted into a thin round. A single pear is thinly sliced, then tossed in a bowl with pear brandy, sugar, and lemon juice. The mixture is then fanned out over the dough before baking. Whipped cream makes a nice accompaniment, as does a snifter of pear brandy, naturally.

Season: August to early October. The Brogdale Trust in Kent is home to the National Fruit Collection–a bit like a Noah’s Ark for the fruits of the earth. Among their many living specimens, they grow over 300 different cultivars of Prunus domestica, the European plum–also known as dessert plums. These fruits crop from high summer right through into October, giving us plenty to eat fresh, and loads to preserve for later in the year. In the United States, European plums can be found at farmers’ markets, growing in backyards, or at some supermarkets. Or you can preserve peach, nectarine, or apricot halves in the same way.

Flaky cream cheese dough is filled with a rich dried-fruit filling, sprinkled with cinnamon sugar, and baked until golden brown to form these crescents. The prunes are soaked in brandy overnight for the filling, so plan ahead if you’re making them.

When the peaches are perfect, ripe and succulent, make this dish. The real fun comes when you set the sauce ablaze. Just watch your eyebrows!

This dish has become very popular on restaurant menus, because it seems extra-special—and tricky to make at home. Special it is, but in fact it’s quite easy to pull off, as it uses frozen lobster tails—no live lobsters to boil. The key is to brown the butter well for a deep, nutty flavor.

Zarzuela—the word means “medley” in Spanish—unites a variety of fish and is, like bouillabaisse, a dish whose ingredients can be varied according to what you can find. The traditional sauce accompaniment for Zarzuela is Romesco (page 606), but the variation makes that superfluous. I love this with crusty bread.

As much as Italians would like to claim the fig as their own, it has deep origins somewhere in Mesopotamia. Then it made its way into the Middle East and the rest of the world. The Egyptians adored the fig and praised it as a medicinal and delicious fruit. Fig breads and sweets were made way before the Italians started, but you cannot take away the importance the fig cookie has on St. Joseph’s Day for the Italian culture. As the legend goes, during a year of drought and famine in Sicily, people would gather and pray to St. Joseph for help. St. Joseph responded by sending heavy rains. To this day Sicilians respond by making the St. Joseph’s table full of offerings, and among them must be the St. Joseph’s fig cookies.

A gaznate is a crunchy cylinder filled with a very sweet and airy meringue. They were carefully stacked into a tower and commonly sold outside movie theaters. The meringue is either left white or tinted a fluorescent pink and is commonly flavored with pulque (a fermented alcoholic beverage made from the maguey plant), which many believe is essential. Pulque is practically impossible to get outside Mexico, so I made my version with mezcal. You will need noncorrosive metal tubes, which you can buy at many cooking stores or online, for wrapping the dough and frying it. Or follow the alternative method below if you can’t find the tubes.

In the antiques shop area Los Sapos, in the state of Puebla, there’s a charming little bar named for this drink, which is their specialty. The scene is a continuous movement of people enjoying the shot glasses of this raisin liqueur served with a toothpick studded with a cube of salty cheese and a raisin. Their recipe is secret, but this is very close to it.

In the summer, I like nothing better than to stand in the shade of my big, old fig tree and pluck the ripe fruit to a humming chorus of bees and scavenging birds. Figs are so short-lived—in terms of both season and shelf life—that you have to act quickly to enjoy them at all, so I always feel like I’ve done well when I come away with a jar or two of jam. A nip or three of brandy gives this version a smoky, complex flavor.

A nice splash of brandy adds depth of flavor to this creamy pâté, which is just right served on crostini, toast points (see Know-how, page 19), or Cornbread Toasts (page 18) topped with Sweet Pickle Relish (page 299). For the best results, start with fresh livers from the butcher or farmer’s market that haven’t been frozen. Note that the chicken livers must soak in buttermilk for several hours prior to cooking.

Herbsaint, the anise-flavored liqueur that we named the restaurant after, was made in New Orleans for many years. It served as an absinthe substitute, offering a similar licorice taste without the hallucinations. While researching old recipes using absinthe or Pernod, I noticed the liqueurs would frequently be combined with brandy, and this appealed to me, since it tempers the strong anise flavor. Just like a sip of Sazerac, anise is not for everyone. But it’s a sophisticated alternative to the classic vanilla version. If you don’t like anise, simply substitute another tablespoon of brandy or bourbon.

Here’s one I stole from my friend, mentor, and sometimes tormentor from Louis XVI Restaurant, Daniel Bonnot. He taught me how to make these about twenty-five years ago. Beignet is essentially just a fancy French word for a fritter. In New Orleans, people have been known to subsist on beignets and coffee alone. This is not advisable. Feel free to substitute chopped crayfish tails for the smoked salmon—both versions are dangerously addictive.

Making homemade lobster stock is relatively easy. If you don’t steam a lot of lobsters at home or have access to lobster shells in your area—or making seafood or fish stocks simply isn’t your thing—you can buy good-quality prepared fish/seafood stocks from your local fishmonger or online (see Sources).

A great do-ahead dessert for a large crowd. Although I make it most often with fresh peaches, the recipe works with just about any fruit-nut combo you can dream up, including fresh berries and hazelnuts, fresh pears and almonds, bananas and pecans, or even craisins or raisins and pecans.

Lightly sweet and refreshingly tart, white sangria marries beautifully with just about everything Tex-Mex. It goes together easily in advance, making it one of my top picks for parties of any size.