American

In the book American Gourmet, Jane and Michael Stern describe beef Wellington as a "lardaceous dish" that is "rich beyond reason." The pastry-wrapped beef was the ultimate in dinner-party fare in the sixties. In our re-creation, salmon fillets cook in frozen puff pastry sheets, which arrived in the seventies.

Orange juice adds zip to the dressing.

This dip would be good served before the Vegetable and Bean Chili or any kind of beef dish. In fact, it's compatible with almost any main course that doesn't contain cheese. Active time: 5 min Start to finish: 5 min

A bar specialty at Hotel Hana-Maui, in Maui, Hawaii.

Even if your crackers fail to puff, they'll still taste delicious. This recipe is an accompaniment for Scallop Chowder .

Baked in individual ring molds, these little desserts feature caramelized pears, streusel topping and sweetened cream.

Wisconsin cheddar stars in these flavorful and easy-to-make biscuits.

Can be prepared in 45 minutes or less.

Lowcountry cooking is full of ideas that seem foreign to outsiders. This sweet and spicy chutney is the perfect foil for salty country ham. Ground together, the two form a paste for memorable appetizers.

Active time: 2 hr Start to finish: 2 hr Traditionally sprinkled over veal, a classic Italian gremolata is made of lemon zest, parsley, and garlic. Chef Odessa Piper's take on it trades lemon and garlic for lemongrass and lime zest, giving the topping a lighter, more citrusy flavor that perfectly complements the mild trout.

(Tomato Cheddar Sauce on Toast) This rendition of Welsh rabbit, popular in early New England, was probably brought to America from Cheshire. Because the recipe substitutes tomatoes for the beer often used, it was considered suitable for children and invalids. Can be prepared in 45 minutes or less.

An appealing update of the classic salad.

Because they were so abundant, oysters were used as a filler and for flavor in a variety of Colonial New England dishes. They are still the star of traditional stuffings in the region.

No one seems completely sure where the name Hoppin' John comes from. Variations run from the clearly apocryphal suggestion that this was the name of a waiter at a local restaurant who walked with a limp, to the plausible, a corruption of pois pigeon (pigeon peas in French). Culinary historian Karen Hess in her masterwork, The Carolina Rice Kitchen: The African Connection, offers a twenty-plus page dissertation on everything from the history of the dish to recipe variations to a number of suggestions for the origin of its name, ranging from Malagasy to ancient Arabic. The only thing that all seem to agree on about Hoppin' John is that the dish is emblematic of South Carolina and is composed of rice and black-eyed peas. Many years back I was amazed to discover a startlingly similar dish on the luncheon table at the Dakar home of Senegalese friends. There, the dish was prepared with beef and not smoked pork, but the rice and black-eyed peas were the same. The name of that dish was given as thiébou niébé. There seem to be two variations on Hoppin' John: One calls for the rice to be cooked with the peas. The second calls for the peas and rice to be cooked separately and then mixed together at a final stage prior to serving. I prefer to cook my rice and peas together.