Electric Mixer

This is a recipe lost to most New Orleanians, save for a few old bucks and grannys who can remember calas fried rice fritters being sold in the streets first thing in the morning in the French Quarter by women of African descent who carried them in baskets balanced on their heads, shouting out "Belle cala! Tout chaud!" Crisp around the edges with a plump, toothsome belly, these fritters beg to be served with obscene quantities of earthy, sorghum-like cane syrup, though traditionalists may opt for confectioners' sugar instead. A cup of strong coffee or a café au lait is the ideal accompaniment.
While old school recipes call for cooking rice until it's mushy and then letting it rise with yeast overnight, I like my fritters with distinct grains of rice suspended in a light batter that's leavened with baking powder rather than yeast. It's important to make the fritters with cold rice so the grains remain separate and don't clump together in the fritter batter.

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.

These delicious cookies are decorated with a sprinkling of raw sugar.

A combination of ground, crystallized, and fresh ginger gives these soft, chewy cookies their intense flavor.

In this festive treat, the shortbread base is topped with dark chocolate, chopped peppermint candies, and a drizzle of white chocolate. Cutting the cookies into irregular pieces makes for a fun presentation.

Coconut milk, coconut extract, and rum give the soufflés a slightly tropical note. The vivid crimson sauce looks beautiful with the white soufflés.

Garnish this no-bake bûche de Noël with purchased meringues.

While tamales are one of Mexico's most famous street foods, they are also one of its most popular party foods, which is fitting since a tamal is packaged like a small gift waiting to be unwrapped. The many steps involved in tamal making have discouraged countless cooks. But they should not, because the process is very easy. And if you gather a few friends to help with the assembling, you can have a tamal-making party before the real party begins.

In name alone, a devil's food cake is an obvious choice for a Halloween dessert. This one will far exceed your expectations of deep chocolaty naughtiness hidden under a fluff of espresso-tinged frosting. (If your trick-or-treaters are too young to embrace the slightly adult bitterness the coffee flavor adds, feel free to substitute a couple of teaspoons of good old vanilla extract.) Have some fun with a very tasty spiderweb—you'll want to eat it rather than shriek and brush it off.

One of the delights of making tiramisù is its versatility. This recipe makes a family-style dessert in a large dish, but you can easily compose single servings in dessert glasses, wine goblets, or even elegant teacups for a more impressive presentation, in the style of Signora Garatti's original "coppa imperiale." And while the conventional version of tiramisù calls for espresso soaked savoiardi, I've found that other flavors can be incorporated into the dessert with great success. Here, the brightness of fresh lemons and limoncello liqueur lace the cream and soaking syrup to make for a tiramisù that is refreshing and irresistible.

Fans of milky coffee will go crazy for these softly set little coffee puddings adorned with whipped cream. Use decaffeinated instant coffee granules if you will be serving them to children or caffeine-wary adults.

A towering dessert on the holiday sideboard always gets attention. And the oohs and aahs will only get louder when you cut in to reveal its moist crumb dotted with ruby-red cranberries and topaz-colored pear. Its scent of vanilla and spices is very inviting, while the brown sugar and cinnamon glaze is, of course, the icing on the cake.

Combining bittersweet chocolate and cocoa powder intensifies the chocolaty essence of this cheesecake to the nth degree. Silken tofu brings a delicate creaminess to the filling while also taking the place of eggs by acting as a binding agent.

A trifle is not only one of the most elegant desserts around, it's also one of the most exuberant—which is why it is tempting to toss aside decorum and dive right into the bowl. The nontraditional version here is sturdy, made with robust gingerbread and mellow pumpkin mousse instead of the classic spongecake and custard.

A jumble of fruit and nuts cascading over tender frangipane creates quite a picture, and there is flavor to match. Although frangipane sounds fancy, it's a breeze to whiz up in a food processor—simply grind the almonds and sugar, then add the flour, butter, and eggs. The oven's heat concentrates the grapes' sweetness and perfume, and dusting the hot tart with confectioners sugar bestows a subtle shine.

If you like regular pecan pie made with corn syrup, wait until you taste old-fashioned pecan pie made with cane syrup—the difference is astonishing!

When layered with tender, brandy-spiked pears and a fluffy maple-flavored frosting, spice cake sheds its old-fashioned modesty, becoming impressive enough for any Thanksgiving sideboard. While it will surely satisfy the cake fans at your holiday gathering, it just might tempt a few diehard pie lovers, as well.

This is one of our family's cherished holiday dishes, a creamy, garlicky appetizer spread, full of flavor, that we enjoy on everything—good crusty bread, grilled bread, carckers, crostini, bread sticks, carrot sticks, celery sticks, even spaghetti, gnocchi, risotto. It is good as an hors d'oeuvre, an appetizer, or a main course, and great for parties. It brings lots of complex flavor to anything that it is spread on. Baccalà mantecato is important to our family, though, for more than its addictive savor. It is a link to Istria, my native region, where the imminent arrival of Christmas at our house (and everyone else's) was scented by the unmistakable vapors of dried codfish, cooking for hours and hours. These were not fish from our local waters, but a delicacy from Northern Europe, a fish that was brought in to be bartered and exchanged for olive oil and good Mediterranean wine, carefully selected and dearly bought. But despite the expense, or the time and labor in its preparation, baccalà mantecato was the mark of a good cook in Istria, and many would stop in at a particular house not just for the hoilday greetings but also for a taste of the baccalà. In our household, my father was the chief cook of baccalà mantecato—it was his one culinary triumph—and that makes it all the more special to me. Though he has been gone for many years, his masterful touch with this dish remains with me and inspires me; every time I make it now, I remember him, with every bite.