Vegan

SOY-FREE
Can be made NUT-FREE by omitting almonds Honey cake is a traditional dessert at Jewish celebrations, whether formal holidays or not, and is a fixture in the Ashkenazic Rosh Hashanah repertoire. In this recipe, dark agave nectar and maple syrup are combined to create a truly authentic flavor.

NUT-FREE Thanksgiving dinner without pumpkin pie is almost unimaginable to most people, no matter what their dietary bent. To that end, I present two versions of this iconic dessert. Still, though it’s hard for us pumpkin pie fans to imagine, there are plenty of people who don’t care for it. (“Je n’aime pas le citrouille,” said the Parisian mother of my niece-by-marriage at a recent Thanksgiving gathering. My brother-in-law concurred, “I’m not a big pumpkin pie fan.”) Since I have two pumpkin pie naysayers in my family, I’m sure there are others out there. For them, I’ve provided a trio of additional desserts to choose from. This is just as good made with butternut squash as it is with sugar pumpkin. Once the pumpkin or squash is baked, which you can (and should) do ahead of time, the pie comes together quickly. It goes down very easily, which is why I recommend making two pies for practically the same effort as one.

GLUTEN-FREE
SOY-FREE The Internet is filled with vegan nog recipes made with lots of tofu, but somehow, the thought of tofu in something other than a smoothie seems odd to me (and truth be told, I don't much care for tofu in smoothies, either). For a more elegant version, cashew butter gives a little body to the beverage without being overly filling.

These cinnamon buns are well worth the extra effort to make. They're so moist, sticky, cinnamon-y, and delicious you'll never miss those sugar-laden ones sold at malls. P.S. These smell even better than "those" when they're baking...and they don't have a million calories. Make them vegan by using butter and milk substitutes.

We like to whip up this delicious tofu scramble with home fries made from Yukon Gold and sweet potatoes on lazy weekend mornings. Begin to cook the scramble just as the home fries are nearly browned to perfection so you can serve this hearty and soul—satisfying breakfast all at once. It tastes and looks great when accompanied by salsa or chopped tomatoes and a handful of garden—fresh herbs.

Many of the items served to celebrate New Year's in Japan have symbolic meaning, expressed as wordplay. Sweet black beans are a good example: the word kuro means "black," but the meaning shifts to "hard work" when the calligraphy changes and the final vowel is extended. Similarly, the word mamé means "bean," but written with different caligraphy, mamé becomes "sincere" or "earnest." Eating black beans in syrup on New Year's ensure that those who work in earnest will have a sweet new year.
The traditional method of preparing kuro mamé is a long (3 days from start to finish) and rather tedious procedure, though one that results in utterly delicious plump, glossy, tender beans in a light sugar syrup that can be kept for months. Over the years, observing many Japanese home and professional cooks and experimenting in my own kitchen, I have developed a modified version of the classic technique that I am sharing here.
The key to preparing luscious, wrinkle-free sweet black soybeans is patience: the beans must be completely tender before sweetening them (adding the sugar too early will cause the beans to sieze and toughen), and the pot must be frequently watched, adding more water as needed to keep the beans barely submerged through the lengthy cooking process so they don't wrinkle.

A few tweaks on Dark Chocolate Ganache Frosting make an equally luscious vegan version. Double this recipe if you want to fill as well as frost a cake (you'll have some left over).

Here's a nondairy vegan alternative. Delish.

Crackling and textured on the outside and super-creamy inside, this three-ingredient recipe couldn't be simpler (or more delicious). Pair the potatoes with any roast for the perfect one-two combination.

Go festive with this floral, slightly fizzy punch, replete with decorative ice mold.

Forget the salad. This colorful assortment of vegetables will stay fresh and snappy on the buffet all night long.

This rustic dip is an easy way to add bright flavor and color (and vegetables!) to the hors d'oeuvre table.

Use to liven up Bloody Marys, or stir into sour cream as a sauce for roast beef.

We've rarely gone out for Indian food without including aloo gobi among our selections. It's a vegetarian/vegan standard. This rendition comes together quickly, and the tofu mimics paneer, the bland, soft cheese found in some Indian dairy dishes.

I became obsessed with chips around 1992, before I had even opened the Fat Duck, and this was probably the first recipe that I could call my own. It has since cropped up in restaurants and pubs all over the place. Achieving the crisp, glass-like exterior depends on getting rid of moisture from the potato and creating little cracks in the surface where the oil will collect and harden, making it crunchy.

This simplified version of an Indian favorite is a delightful way to showcase tasty chickpeas.

This is my version of harira, the national soup of Morocco, which shows up in unending variations from city to city, street stall to street stall, and family to family. It can be vegan, vegetarian, or made with meat—usually lamb. Some cooks add chickpeas, chicken gizzards, or broken-up bits of angel hair pasta. But the result is always unmistakably harira, and that's what makes it so comforting and satisfying. Harira has the inexplicable quality of being both light and filling at the same time, making you feel perfectly content. That's why, besides being the national soup, it's also a religious institution: it's what every family in Morocco eats to break their daily fast all through the monthlong observance of Ramadan. All over the country, for an entire month of sunsets, the first thing the entire population tastes is harira, and breaking the fast with anything else would be like serving Thanksgiving dinner without turkey. During Ramadan here in the States, I fast all day, even though I keep up my normal schedule, shopping in the farmers' market and working in the kitchen. As soon as the sun goes down, I step away from my expediting station and have a quick bowlful of harira to get me through the evening. And on days off, I take home a quart of it to break the fast at my house. The first time you make this, try making a light meal of it, with just some bread and maybe a simple salad. You'll understand what I'm talking about. It's weirdly, wonderfully satisfying—in a way that fills your soul more than your stomach. I make harira with water, not stock, because I think this vegetarian (actually, vegan) version is lighter and cleaner tasting, but you can make it with chicken or lamb stock or half stock and half water. While its flavor is very true to the original, I've played with its preparation. For example, I cook the lentils separately, to keep them from breaking down too much. (My mom called that crazy, but she smiled when she tasted the result.) And if you cook them in the soup, they darken the cooking liquid and give the soup a muddy appearance. The yeast-and-flour mixture is my version of the traditional starter made from fermented flour and water, used exclusively for harira, that you'll find in every Moroccan kitchen. It's easier to manage but has the same effect as that sourdough original, thickening and lightening the soup, and keeping it from separating, while adding a rich, tangy flavor. I wanted to give people a little crunch without adding an extra element, so I took the celery out of its usual place in the sautéed soup base and reintroduced it at the end as a raw garnish. In Morocco, harira is classically served with dates, which add sweetness to balance the soup's acidity. Taste it without the dates, and then try it with them. You'll find it's an entirely different experience. When I first started serving this soup at the restaurant, I'd accompany it with a few beautiful (and expensive) California Medjools on the side. The dates kept coming back uneaten. People just didn't get the idea of savory soup and sweet dates, which drove me nuts. So I thought of a way to work the dates into the soup, rolling them into little balls and adding them as a garnish. People get it now. The date balls are never left uneaten. They're a part of the bigger idea, as they should be. This makes a big batch. That's how I always do it, even at home, because we love to eat it over several nights, and it keeps for up to a week.

Here is one of the restaurant's all-time favorites. We have been known to ship these appetizers to friends and customers on the West Coast who have called in need of a fix. These seitan skewers are wonderful when well charred and served with refreshing Chimichurri Citrus-­Herb Sauce. They freeze very well and are great to have on hand to serve as appetizers, snacks, or an entrée.

Caravan of Dreams is one of the restaurants where my family likes to eat when we're in New York City. It's a funky, comfortable place in the East Village, with food that's hearty and innovative (and all vegan). Once, my younger son ordered the Green Garden Platter, described as "seasonal mixed greens sautéed with grilled marinated seitan, garlic, and olive oil, topped with grilled carrot polenta in mushroom gravy." I was intrigued by the combination of seitan and polenta, so when I got home, I made my own version, which bears little resemblance to the restaurant's. There's something enticing about seitan/polenta synergy, and with the addition of greens, the result is a great-looking, hearty dish.