Dairy

Customize this one to your liking, from the fillings to the doneness.

For the softest dough, use a potato ricer or simply mash the potatoes until smooth.

Inspired by a recipe from chef Kaori Endo of Nanashi in Paris, this smart, easy dessert shows how well matcha plays with creamy yogurt and fruit.

Blanch brussels sprouts and then shock them in an ice-water bath to keep them bright green and crisp-tender.

This one's got it all: bright fall colors and sweet-savory appeal.

These ethereal, savory puffs are easily frozen and reheated. Serve half the yield from this recipe at the party, and save the rest for another time. Feel free to mix and match any semisoft melting cheese such as Gruyère, cheddar, or Fontina with any hard cheese such as Asiago, Parmesan, or Manchego.

To speed up this classic soup without sacrificing its soulful flavor, simply caramelize the onions in a dry nonstick skillet (be sure to use one with a silicone surface designed for use over high heat, not Teflon), and use good-quality beef stock, preferably one that is low in salt.

Use a whipped-cream dispenser to portion the mousse à la minute, or double the ingredients and whip to stiff peaks in a bowl with an electric mixer.

This whoopie pie is like a root beer float turned into a cake.

In most parts of Texas, enchiladas are rolled tortillas stuffed with a filling and covered in sauce. But often in West Texas (and also New Mexico) the filling and sauce are instead layered between flat tortillas. They look a bit different, but the end taste is the same, not to mention stacked enchiladas are a heck of a lot easier to make. Another feature of stacked enchiladas is the inclusion of a fried egg on top. I don't know how this tradition came about, but it's a brilliant addition. When the yolk mixes with the sauce, its creamy transformation takes the sauce from merely delicious to truly decadent. I was born and raised a rolled-enchilada girl, but I can appreciate a plate of stacked ones, especially those made with an ancho chile sauce. And if I squint, I can see in the stack the rugged terrain of West Texas, with the egg standing in for clouds and the sun. It's West Texas on a plate.

Highway 84 runs from Santa Fe to Colorado. About forty minutes north of Santa Fe, the highway cuts a paved path through Ohkay Owingeh, a Native American reservation, and the roadside becomes dense with fast-food outlets, outposts of national grocery chains, Walmart, and billboards for Ohkay Casino, Hutch and Norma Naranjo's sprawling midcentury home is set about fifty years back from the road, a shrine to the tug-of-war between new ways and traditional ones. In the backyward Mr. Naranjo built two hornos (behive-shaped adobe ovens). Inside the house, a handmade wreath of dried chiles hangs on one wall and a string of made-for-tourists ceramic peppers on another. A naïve painting of St. Francis hangs not far from a cluster of the dream catchers that the couple and their two grown children fashion from string, feathers, and yarn, just as their Pueblo ancestors did. "We go to church one Sunday and dance the traditional dances the next," said Mrs. Naranjo. A retired social worker, she gives cooking classes and does a little catering. But she spends most of her mornings working the two-acre minifarm where she grows vegetables from seeds that have been passed from one Pueblo generation to another for at least a thousand years. "The history of our people is in those seeds," she says. In the evenings, when her husband builds hornos on the terraces of hotels and McMansions, Mrs. Naranjo visits the elderly women in Ohkay Owingeh, who remember life and cooking when it was closer to the land, and collects their recipes and food stories. "Our history lives in our hands as well," she says. Mrs. Naranjo moves with the efficiency of a modern professional as she smooths cornmeal paste on damp cornhusks. Tiny white kernels from several ears of heirloom corn, and diced green chiles and squash, along with a thick, bloodred chile sauce and shredded fresh cheese, are lined up in small stainless-steel bowls at the head of her tamale assembly line. She notes that tamales were stuffed with rabbit, venison, pork—whatever people had. Vegetable tamales were a fine way to make use of the gardens' overflowing crops. She swathes the dough, sprinkles filling, folds, ties, and places the tamale bundles on a rack set over water in a big enameled pot. From time to time, she glances out the window to the backyard, where her husband is feeding small, dry sticks into this new four-by-four horno. Her smaller tamales are, she says, her only concession to modernity: "People love the little ones as snacks, and Hutch and I love them in these green chile stews we make in the horno."

"I love this meal. It's delicious, healthy and easy for me to prepare. There's not chef in my house!"

Condiments deliver flavor but often a lot of calories. A light yogurt sauce supplies healthy zip.

Capers give these burgers zing—and cancer protection, too: They help prevent the formation of carcinogens that can occur when meat gets charred.

A bit of blue cheese in each patty ups the chicken's savoriness without adding much fat or calories.

Bison contains choline, a nutrient that may help keep stress at bay.

Here's a quiche recipe that goes wheat free without skimping on flavor. We call for broccoli and Cheddar cheese, but you can trade out the broccoli for asparagus tips or halved cherry tomatoes and the Cheddar for Gruyère, Swiss, or Comté.

Bengali Dahi Maach Tender pieces of tilapia are marinated with caraway seeds, turmeric, and cayenne pepper and then pan-fried until crisp and golden brown. The dish is finished with a yogurt curry enhanced by the spicy flavor of mustard seeds. The result is a great mixture of flavors and textures, and a simple way to prepare versatile tilapia.