American

I'd often sneak into my mom's car and ride stowaway-style in the back seat when she left home to "make groceries" at the A&P or Schwegmann's. No sooner had she turned off the ignition than I'd pop my head up and scare the bejesus out of her! In the market, we'd get coffee beans ground fresh from this giant red coffee grinder—I swear it was at least 3 feet tall. My mom gave the coffee man (usually the bagger at the checkout aisle) explicit instructions on the coarseness of the bean grind for her chicory-laced coffee. After he had bagged our beans, I'd stick my nose up the metal spout and inhale the heady aroma that always made me dizzy and happy. In a typical New Orleans home, a pitcher of coffee can almost always be found in the fridge, whether left over from the morning or brewed specifically to make iced coffee later in the day. This coffee and chicory cupped cake is made with a stiff, eggless cake batter that gets topped with a cocoa crumble and then covered with coffee. Baked in actual coffee cups, the cake soufflés up and makes its own built-in lava sauce on the bottom. It's fantastic eaten within an hour or two of baking while the cake is still warm, soft, and molten.

In South Louisiana, any sauce is called gravy. This dish would be our equivalent of biscuits and sausage gravy, except we've got all this seafood down here that finds its way into nearly everything. Serve this gravy over biscuits ) with Oeufs au Plat , and you've really got something. As a chef, I make this a bit more complicated than it needs to be: I start with the shrimp in the pan, then remove them so they don't overcook, and then I add them back once it's all come together.

My friend Timmy Reily makes the best version of this classic New Orleans drink. He likes to use the finest brandy, but once you've added all the other ingredients the brandy doesn't matter so much. You may need to add a bit more sugar, so taste a little and sweeten as you go.

Editor's note: Use this spice blend to make Chef John Besh's Slow-Cooked Veal Grillades and his Busters and Grits. Using this spice blend is truly the easiest way to consistently achieve the flavors I grew up with. Once made, the spices will last for six months in an airtight container.

As you knead the dough for this Mardi Gras cake, watch for it to begin to pull away from the sides of the mixing bowl. If that doesn't happen (because the moisture content in flour fluctuates with the humidity), add a spoonful or two more flour.

Editor's note: Serve this veal with Chef John Besh's Jalapeño Cheese Grits . Grillades is a Creole version of pot roast; the meat is sliced or pounded thin, then slow-cooked in a pungent sauce. If veal shoulder isn't available, substitute boneless, sliced Boston butts of pork. Sure, you can use a leaner cut of veal (and if you do, you'll want to cut the cooking time down by half). But I encourage you to find those cheaper cuts of meat that have much more flavor than either the loin or the leg.

My friend Marvin Woods taught me everything I know about Low-Country cooking, the regional cuisine commonly referred to as soul food. In many ways, soul food is an apt description because there is a lot of soul and spirit and passion that goes into Low-Country cooking—dishes like she-crab soup, catfish stew, shrimp and grits, red rice, hoppin' John, and baked macaroni and cheese. No Low-Country feast would be complete without corn bread. My version is steamed in a water bath to make the bread nice and moist; covering it with aluminum foil for the last thirty minutes of cooking gives you a nice crust that isn't overly browned. Paired with tomato chutney, it's a light snack or meal on its own.

Known as the "caviar of the South," this pimiento cheese recipe can be used as a dip for a party, or spread it on a sandwich for the ultimate grilled cheese.

Aim to get your fully thawed turkey into the turkey brine 12 hours before cooking.

What could be more American than candy corn? Try maple pecan popcorn treats, for starters. They're made with three ingredients—maple syrup, pecans, and popcorn—that originated in the New World.

Gina: Who would think that a hard green tomato would yield such tender, irresistible results? Coated with cornmeal and bread crumbs, fried to crispy perfection, and served warm with an awesome basil mayo, fried green tomatoes are delicious atop field greens or butter lettuce, or on toasted sandwiches with a few fried strips of bacon.

This is essentially a clam chowder but one that is less soupy, more colorful, and more “clammy” than most. The departures from American tradition include a strong whiff of garlic and a bright green puree of parsley.

For many, Thanksgiving without pumpkin pie is unthinkable, but that doesn't mean you can't jazz up the old standby.

Food editor Andrea Albin, who developed this menu, says that her mom, Veronica, who lives in Houston, should get all the glory here. Raw celery and toasted almonds lace cooked cranberries with terrific crunch.

A thin layer of deep-flavored molasses filling gives way to a tangy buttermilk custard.

Andouille, the heavily spiced and smoked sausage that is a linchpin of so many Cajun dishes, adds its inimitable heat to an able stuffing stand-in. A swirl of cream gravy (above) can help quell the spice.

In this golden casserole (which you'll find on many Pennsylvania Dutch tables), a buttermilk custard rises to the top while the chewy, toasty corn sinks to the bottom, resulting in a two-layered pudding. The packaged sweet corn—frequently called by its most common brand name, Cope's corn—is slowly dried so that its natural sugars caramelize, a centuries-old Native American preservation method. Recipes usually call for grinding the corn, but the whole kernels impart a coarser texture that we love.

A roast turkey glazed with a buttery cider syrup is burnished outside and juicy within. You'll have more than enough gravy to ladle over the stuffing, the smashed potatoes, and tomorrow's leftovers.