European

"This dough, with its addition of whole wheat flour for a nutty taste and tender texture, is a must in your baking repertoire."—Karen DeMasco

"My first day on the job, they asked me to make the hollandaise. I was 17 and had gone to culinary school, so it seemed easy enough. But I took one look at the giant cast-iron stove they were using—it was literally glowing red—and told the chef that it was too hot. And 32 egg yolks? That was too many! He sent me off to pick chervil instead. (One problem: I didn't know what chervil was.) It took me a month of burned forearms and scrambled eggs, but I got it. I learned to make a figure eight with the whisk so it touches all sides of the pan; to keep my hand on the base of the pan to make sure it's just warm, never hot; to whisk the eggs until they are foamy and airy before slowly pouring in warm clarified butter; and then, that squeeze of lemon. Today, when I cook hollandaise at home, I make it in a blender."

Two seemingly disparate ingredients pair perfectly in this brightly flavored and creamy sauce.

"Classic tiramisù doesn't usually contain chocolate, but I love how it pairs with the coffee. It's just one of those magical flavor combinations." —Kriss Harvey

This classic sauce takes its spiciness from black pepper and dried chiles and its depth of flavor from guanciale, Italian salt-cured pork jowl. If you can't find it, use pancetta, which is available at better supermarkets.

Roll or stretch the dough as thin as possible to get a classic thin and crispy crust.

If you've got a handful of eggs in your fridge, you're halfway to making one of our favorite weeknight dishes, the versatile frittata. We like the earthy combination of peppers and mushrooms, though any combination of sautéed vegetables, herbs, and cheese will work.

"There are as many variations on this easy, classic dessert as there are fruits."—Jimmy Bannos, Jr.

Here's how Mario Carbone and Rich Torrisi of New York City's Torrisi Italian Specialties make these cake-like Technicolor treats.

New York City's Italian impresario Mario Batali likes to use Sun Gold tomatoes—a sweet, slightly tannic variety of cherry tomato—to make this dish. Any good cherry or grape tomatoes, or a chopped large tomato, will work, too. Be sure to cook the tomatoes down until they've released all of their juices.

A Venetian specialty of creamy rice and peas, this springtime classic should be the consistency of risotto.

The key to making this dish is to have all the ingredients prepared before you begin sautéing the onions.

It doesn't get any more classic French than this. The restaurant uses France's iconic (and expensive) Bresse chicken, but any flavorful, free-range bird will do. If fresh morels are not available, put 1 1/2 ounces dried morels into a bowl, cover with boiling water, and let soak for 30 minutes. Set a sieve over a small bowl and strain mushrooms, reserving liquid. Cook according to recipe instructions, pouring in mushroom liquid with wine, leaving any sediment behind. You can also swap out the morels for crimini (baby bella) mushrooms. What you'll lose in taste you'll gain in savings. Use it to buy a decent bottle of Burgundy—white or red—to drink with the dish.

Tai Missoni got this recipe from the Milan restaurant Osteria La Risacca when he asked the owner what he ate at lunch. Adding white wine to the boiled potatoes keeps them moist.

"I like to put these little doughnuts in a brown paper sack with a few shakes of powdered sugar and eat them straight out of the bag."—Ethan Stowell

Biscotti are the perfect ending to a great meal, especially with an espresso. A scoop of ice cream makes them even more special.—Karen DeMasco

My mom used to make this yummy, Parmesan-and-broccoli-flecked pasta a lot when we were growing up because it was a relatively painless way to get us kids to eat broccoli. And when I went to college, she packed up the recipe for me as part of a set of family recipes that she thought would be easy enough for me to make in my new apartment. This was one of the first dishes I had the courage to cook on my own, and it became a staple of my college years. But leaving home isn't so easy. I remember the first time I set out to cook this in my new life. It wasn't until I was at the grocery store with recipe in hand that I realized that I couldn't actually read it: I never could read my mom's handwriting—I'm forever calling her up to ask her to translate her scrawl. But there I was, first time out, walking up to strangers in the supermarket asking, "Can you read this?" These days, my friends have a habit of calling me from the supermarket at five p.m., looking for a suggestion for dinner. This is the recipe I give them because it's completely easy and if it's five o'clock and you're still in the supermarket, you can still be eating by six fifteen (assuming you don't live too far away). Note that the broccoli cooks long enough to turn soft and buttery. When you work it all together with your wooden spoon—broccoli, olive oil, and cheese—the broccoli turns into the sauce. Use a colander with fairly small holes (or a mesh strainer) so that the broccoli buds don't escape into the sink when you drain the pasta.

Peaches are abundant in the area around Piacenza. My mom's mother, Nonna Stella, used to use them in this traditional dish during the months when the peaches were at their best. In fact, my mom likes to tell me how, when she was pregnant, she ate them nonstop. The peaches should be very ripe and juicy. If they're not so juicy, you may need to chop an extra peach half for the filling, to add a little moisture. Make amaretti crumbs by pulsing the cookies in a food processor, or putting them in a resealable plastic bag, and crushing them with a rolling pin or a meat mallet.

Ask my Catalan friend Pep and my Catalan-wannabe friend Ted which of the three of us makes the best paella, and prepare to hear much wailing and gnashing of teeth. Then you'll hear many excuses about exactly how and why I, neither having the privilege of a) growing up in Spain (Pep) nor b) having written a newspaper story about paella after interviewing the Spanish cooking authority Penelope Casas (Ted), managed to mop the floor with both of them in a paella cook-off when I lived in Boston several years ago. What can I say? The crowd was the judge, and the choice was clear. Of course, paella is a renowned dish for groups: In Spain, cooks will put a gargantuan paella pan over a huge fire to feed dozens. But with the right pan (I love my trusty steel crepe pan), it's easy enough to make for one, too.