European

This is the best use of leftover egg whites you’ll find. Generally, one egg white will support one cup of shredded coconut or ground nuts, but I like to be safe and use an extra egg white. You can combine nuts and coconut or use any of them alone.

Linzertorte is really a big jam-topped cookie, and, for the amount of work—it’s pretty simple—is one of the most impressive desserts around. You can make individual cookies if you prefer. Red currant or raspberry jam is traditional, but you can use any jam you like as long as it is of high quality. If it is not already seedless, strain it to remove the seeds.

An ironic creation, in that it is usually said to originate in Santiago de Compostela, the capital of Galicia, in northwestern Spain—where almonds do not grow. Nevertheless, it’s a wonderful, not-too-sweet dessert, most definitely for grown-ups. I like this in a spring-form pan, but it can be made in two layers if you prefer.

The classic custard of Spain, widely made throughout Latin America, is like crème brûlée, but upside down and lighter. Like any custard, it must not be overcooked. The center must be quite jiggly when you remove it from the oven—for beginners, this is a leap of faith, but it’s the only way to keep the custard smooth.

Crème brûlée may seem mysterious, but it is actually quite straightforward and simple. Just remember two things: One, like almost all custards, this one is done before it appears to be; remove it from the oven when it is still jiggly. And two, brûlée means “burnt,” not browned. It’s important that some of the topping blacken; the best tastes of campfire-toasted marshmallows. Chefs, and many devoted home cooks, use a propane torch to melt and brown the sugar in the final step. If you have one lying around, give it a shot—just hold the flame so it touches the sugar, which will react quickly. Move the flame around so it touches all of the sugar; when the melted sugar begins to blacken, it’s done.

Panna cotta is a no-brainer, sweetened cream thickened with gelatin. It has long been made with whatever dairy is around, and I think it’s far better when a certain amount of the cream is replaced by buttermilk. The result is more complex and not so stultifyingly rich.

It seems every country that grows rice makes rice pudding, and almost every experienced cook has his or her own technique. After years of playing with it, this is the one I like best, and it works well with the variations of most cuisines. In many cases rice pudding is simply milk bound by rice; often the amount of rice is well under 10 percent of the total. I prefer this recipe with just 1/4 cup, no more. The result is a thick milk custard with a recognizable but understated rice presence. If you want a dense and slightly chewier mixture, use the larger amount of rice. Other possible additions to rice pudding: a strip of lemon zest, a pinch of saffron threads, or a teaspoon of ground cardamom added at the beginning; a couple of tablespoons of raisins and/or slivered pistachios stirred in at the end. See the variations, and the following recipes, too—this group of recipes is unending.

This is quite possibly the simplest dessert “recipe” imaginable: vanilla ice cream doused with coffee. The dessert probably originated in Turin, an important city for both coffee and ice cream, and is served in bars there all over town.

Soufflés are far easier than most of us have been led to believe, and, surprisingly, they’re quite flexible; with the exception of whisking and folding in the egg whites, they can be prepared several hours in advance. You may, of course, make the soufflé with vanilla extract instead of a vanilla bean. The difference is real but subtle.

A classic Russian dessert that I like to serve for breakfast, which is convenient because the dough—or batter; actually it’s somewhere in between—can rest overnight (or longer). Serve with sour cream and jam.

This is what I think of as real coffee cake—not extraordinarily sweet and for some people not even a dessert. If you want it more cakelike, double the sugar in the dough and consider adding a couple more tablespoons of butter. But this is wonderful with a cup of coffee in the afternoon or toasted, with a little butter, in the morning. With the food processor, this dough becomes quite quick to make; just keep the processing to a minimum. You want to avoid building up the gluten in the flour so it doesn’t become tough. If you don’t feel like braiding the dough (it really is fun, though, and takes only a few extra minutes), by all means bake this in a loaf pan.

Between the omelet and the pancake lies the crêpe, an almost pastalike thin wrapper usually served as a snack or dessert. (Not always, though; see Buckwheat Crêpes, page 86.) They are universal but most closely associated with France and are sometimes made with chestnut flour (which, if you can find it, is a nice change). Fill them with cooked berries or other fruit, with fresh ricotta mixed with a little sugar, with chocolate sauce, or with anything else you like—ice cream, whipped cream, and so on. There was a time when you needed a special crêpe pan—one reserved strictly for this purpose—but a six- or eight-inch nonstick skillet is the perfect vessel.

Where to put a recipe like this? The Swedes eat these pancakes as dessert, but my guess is that 90 percent of Americans who make them will consume them before noon, as breakfast or a brunch dish. Though I’m in that 90 percent, these are undeniably sweet enough for postmeal status. There is a special pan for these, with small depressions, so you can make your pancakes the appropriate size. But using a tablespoon works almost as well. Serve them with confectioners’ sugar, applesauce, lingonberry preserves or any other jam, ice cream, sour cream, yogurt, or whipped cream. Or try an assortment.

Served on the street in the medieval city of Pérouges, not far from Lyons, this sweet, crisp pastry, preferably served hot, makes a fantastic snack or a surprising dessert. Serve, if you like, with crème fraîche, whipped cream, or sour cream and cut-up fruit.

This is all about the dough: there is none better. My earliest appreciation for it came from a cookie my grandmother made. I could never get over how delicious they were, but it was only years later that I realized they were a variation on the standard kolacky. These are most easily filled with thick preserves, or you can make your own fillings from stewed dried or fresh fruit as long as the mixture is thick. Some people add enough flour to make a stiff dough, but it’s really preferable to leave the dough sticky, which translates to tenderness, and refrigerate it for a few hours, which makes it easier to handle. If you’re in a hurry, however, make the dough a little stiffer and roll it out right away. These are fun to make with kids, as the ultimate shape really doesn’t matter.

The basic cake of the French pastry repertoire is génoise, used as the foundation for dozens of cakes and other desserts. While it is essentially sponge cake made with butter, it’s rarely eaten plain or on its own. Rather, it might be moistened with liqueur or sweet or fortified wine (Grand Marnier, Sauternes, or Oloroso sherry, for example) and served with a little whipped cream or used as a building block for other desserts like Trifle (page 651).

Madeleines are a classic French sweet, a delightful spongy cookie in a convenient bite size. The longer the batter is chilled, the greater the chance that you will have the signature madeleine hump. Serve warm, please.

An elementary ingredient of French pastry. The pastry cream will be predictably richer if you use heavy cream (preferably not ultrapasteurized) but is equally delicious with half-and-half or whole milk.

Trifles are anything but trifles: they take a good deal of work to put together, they’re about as caloric as desserts get, and, in the right serving vessel—like a large glass dish with tall, straight sides that reveals the tempting layers of cake, cream, fruit—they’re absolute showstoppers. In England, one is often wowed by the guiltless and masterful employment of loads of cream in many desserts. Trifles are a showcase for the British love of cream—in this case both whipped and pastry.

A delicious buttery northern European specialty whose name derives from its rough texture. For the best possible flavor, toast and grind fresh spices. If you have whole cardamom, remove the seeds from the pods by crushing the pods lightly with the side of a knife (discard the hulls). Then combine them with a bit of cinnamon stick and a small piece of nutmeg in a small dry skillet and toast over medium heat, shaking the pan frequently until the mixture is aromatic. Grind well, then combine with the ginger.