Flour

Firm polenta serves as the base for a delectable shrimp sauce made with tomatoes, garlic, red pepper flakes, and crisp pancetta crumbles. Once seared, the polenta is perfectly crisp on the outside and velvety on the inside. You’ll need to make the polenta a couple of hours before serving, since it needs time to cool and set before you can sear it. Luckily, it can be made ahead of time.

Lemon curd is very elegant. For some reason people think it’s difficult to make, but it’s not—it’s simple, quick, and has a lemony freshness and creamy texture that just screams, “Eat me!” In this tart, I pair the bright lemon curd with a nutty, crunchy crust—they’re perfect partners. What a combo!

There are so many things to love about chickpea fries—for starters you can make the base for this dish ahead of time and then fry up the fries just before you want to serve them. Also, I’ve added some crunched-up chickpeas into the mix for texture. And who ever thought of pairing these lovelies with a raw zucchini and onion salad? Look at me—always thinking up something new! Add a couple of grilled shrimp and some pine nuts, and you have something really special.

Donuts are usually fairly judged by both the quality of their crumb and the imagination of their topping, but this is one donut you will want to eat straight out of the oven as is. The chocolate swirl creates an interesting balance to all the spice, while also adding a smooth yet crunchy texture.

This is the best and easiest way to get your jelly donut fix without pulling out a pastry bag or developing some other fancy-but-messy stuffing procedure. I specifically use sugar for this recipe because I think it holds the jam together nicely, and I prefer to finish it with powdered sugar.

Don’t be fooled: Even though a chocolate donut sounds almost unreasonably decadent, this one is actually the most mellow of the bunch. It isn’t overly sweet, and it doesn’t act like a slice of cake. I purposefully didn’t amp up the sugar—primarily because that way you can go completely crazy in the glazing department to add sweetness. That said, if you really want the cake part of your donut to be sweet, you can toss in an extra 1/4 cup of sugar without repercussion.

Although replacing the sugar in the donut recipe with agave nectar takes the crunch factor down a level, these are equally as important to your breakfast arsenal. If you still want that crispiness and are open to experimenting, try switching out the agave for coconut sugar (helpful substitution suggestions on page 24!). Either way, you can’t go wrong. The donut here is shown topped with the Agave-Sweetened Chocolate Glaze (page 124).

Even though this cake is visually a stunner, it’s probably the easiest cake you will ever make. Don’t worry about putting too much filling between the layers; the messier the preserves and chocolate glaze get, the better.

I’m hoping this cake doesn’t need much introduction. It’s one of those recipes for which a photograph speaks clearly and perfectly to its mega-rich glory. I will add, however, that even though a German chocolate cake is not as recognizable without its beloved pecans, you can easily omit them if you are allergic and still achieve the same delicious experience. If you want to add a little crunch and you have extra time on your hands, you can fold in graham cracker crumbs from the S’mores recipe (page 79) along with or instead of the pecans.

In New York there is no shortage of Italian bakeries, and as a rule I try to poke my head in as many as possible to peek at the offerings. Italians are creative masters, and of course it’s always the Italian rainbow cake that first catches my eye. Probably I’m just hypnotized by a cool color palette, like a puppy watching TV. When choosing your preserves for this one, spend a little extra on the good organic stuff. The success of your cake depends on it! If you are allergic to almonds, omitting the extract won’t compromise your cake.

This is another Jewish recipe that became an instant favorite at the bakery. I don’t know about you, but I’m a complete sucker for any and all rolled pastry. Pulling apart the layers and investigating and indulging in the different textures inside are activities I would do all day if asked. Normally, rugalach recipes call for nuts but I made them optional in honor of the allergy-plagued among us.

This one earned a higher place on the BabyCakes Piece of Cake scale simply because it requires pastry assemblage, which always complicates matters. It might take a little while for you sophomores to get your rhythm down, and your first few straws will probably look more like craggy witch fingers, but it’s all going to pay off if you stick with it. Once it does, you should host a dinner party and set these out early by the pintful.

Have you noticed all the gluten-free pizza parlors popping up in major cities lately? I have, and pizza makes me incredibly excited! The end result of my version is simple and traditional—tomatoes, garlic, and a little basil atop a thin crust—even if the crust’s instructions do take some careful minding. Above all else, be absolutely sure to get the finest tomatoes you can find. If you must (and often I must), throw some cheese on top and start piling on as many vegetables as you like—just make sure to roll your dough a little thicker to bear any extra weight. For you traditionalists out there, I have included a time-tested tomato sauce (page 90) as well.

Like bubble-gum ice cream, Sno Balls were one of those grocery-store items I coveted as a very young girl. All I knew was that they looked like Barbie food and that was precisely what I wanted and needed. And then I tried one. Absolutely awful. Like, terrible. I wondered how something so pretty could taste so wretched. And then, when it came time to write this book, I decided, No, something so adorable need not be so incredibly foul-tasting. So I reworked them. In the process, I stumbled on a new bakery favorite. What’s more, you get two recipes in the process of making a batch of these; head over to the recipe for Bread Pudding (page 102) and see just one idea for what you can do with the unused part of a cupcake.

I take my graham crackers extremely buttery and very crunchy, so that’s what you’re getting with this recipe. In fact, this graham cracker is so decadent, you may want to double the recipe so you can deliberately have leftovers. There’s tons of mileage to be gained out of these. Like piecrust, for one! Or donut toppings, for two!

I grew up as that weird kid who disliked frosting and cake in general. But if it meant I could get one of those massive Valentine’s Day cookies in the window at Mrs. Fields, I was willing to endure any amount of frosting, icing, or similar childhood misery. You can use any cookie recipe in this book to make this fantastical creation, obviously, but I went ahead and developed a third chocolate chip version (in addition to the bakery standard in the first book and the Chips Ahoy! in this one) to mimic what is found in Mrs. Fields’s venerable kitchens. It’s big and it’s bold and it’s buttery. It’s practically a Toll House cookie, if that helps you imagine.

Until Bob’s Red Mill came up with a totally affordable gluten-free oat, you would never have seen these in the bakery. Thank all that is holy—once again—for Bob’s! Today these cookies are a best seller in both New York and Los Angeles. If you hate raisins (I do . . . sorry, raisins!), try subbing in chocolate chips or dried cherries instead. If you’re some sort of oat maniac, you can dump in as much as another 1/3 cup of oats and be just fine.

Who can resist a madeleine? They are so charming, so fair—so impossibly French. These Proustian delights have always appealed to the buttery fringes of my soul, and they’ve always acted as the perfect foil to the rebellious and messy attitude of my first love, the American chocolate chip cookie. Plus I get to whip out my handy madeleine tray, which I cherish wholly and completely. Get yourself one and be the envy of your baby girl’s bake sale.

This is a perfect example of using the exalted Sugar Cookie as a launching pad. Once you’ve fussed around with it enough, you begin to understand its dormant qualities. What if you asked your brain what would happen if you had the foresight to roll a butter-taste-based batter around in a cinnamon-sugar mixture before baking? If your brain, schooled in the ways of the Sugar Cookie, answered that you’d get a wonderfully wrinkly explosion of the Snickerdoodle variety, you and your brain are well on your way to total cookie enlightenment.

This recipe is the foundation of a lifetime’s worth of holiday merriment, a blank but delicious canvas for you and your kids to customize until your hearts explode with happiness. By way of texture, I aimed for something traditionally crisp, playing up the flakiness and butter-tinged richness. Just roll out the dough; they’re a cinch. In general, just about any flourish you can imagine to add to the top—sprinkles? Gummi bears? frosting?!—will complement this cookie with a little density. There’s a photograph on page 46, so you know what you’re working with.