Baking

Whether they're freshly baked or toasted, I love these buns and bake a batch whenever it takes my fancy, leaving off the crosses if it isn't Easter. I also like to vary the dried fruit – a mix of chopped dates, cranberries, apricots, and cherries is particularly good.

Quiche for one? That sounds ambitious, but the truth is, it’s a cinch to make yourself a small quiche if you have an individual tart pan, about 4 inches in diameter, with a removable bottom, and some excess tart dough in your freezer. And what a treat it is.

I got a perplexing message from someone who made these biscotti: “They were good, but full of big chunks of chocolate.” I’m not sure if that was meant as a compliment or a criticism, but I do know for sure that it wasn’t a mistake—that’s exactly what I had in mind when I came up with these superchunky chocolate biscotti. They’re perfect for dipping in a large cup of dark coffee or alongside a glass of Cognac after dinner. They’re also great travel cookies—I’m always happy when I pull out a bag midway through a flight or train trip. I make sure to bring extras because when I see the longing looks of passengers around me, I feel pressured to share—and I do, reluctantly.

Miso is the secret savory ingredient in the topping for this luscious cobbler.

My most coveted pie is of the apple variety. To me, nothing says an afternoon out by the grill than having an apple pie to finish off the experience. What sets this pie apart from your normal apple pie is that I use a whopping thirteen apples that I slowly cook down with Vietnamese cinnamon and brown sugar, creating a collection of flavors so distinctively comforting, you'll never search for another apple pie recipe. Use Maker's Mark bourbon as it is currently the only gluten-free bourbon available.

When I was a little girl, making biscuits was one of my favorite things to do because they were so easy and so delicious. Not until I began my experiments with gluten-free baking did I realize the gift my mother and grandmother had passed on to me in the process: They taught me that in order in making the very best biscuits, it was all about the touch. The less you touched the dough, the better the biscuits. If you over-kneaded the dough, the biscuits would be much drier and would turn to stone twice as fast. So as you are kneading your dough, remember less is more, and you will have those moist, mouthwatering biscuits you've been dreaming about. Any of the suggested accompaniments you choose will sing atop this Southern classic.

Peppermint ice cream and chocolate cake are rolled up into the quintessential holiday treat.

Even imperfect, not-quite-ripe pears will become tender and richly flavored when baked in a crisp (apples, of course, are another good way to go). What makes this crisp especially lovely is cardamom, an assertive, warm spice, traditional in baking (especially in Sweden) with a wonderfully home-filling aroma.

This ­is ­one of Haley's favorites, not only because she's an Earl Grey drinker (in fact, as a bitty child she would ask the waitresses in diners if the tea was Earl Grey or orange pekoe because she "simply wouldn't drink anything but Earl Grey"—precocious much?) but also because the hint of lavender infusion leaves you feeling as if you ate a scone and then walked through a field en Provence!

When­ we ­decided­ to start serving brunch, we were determined to stick with the original concept of the restaurant, "tea turned on its ear," so we racked our brains to come up with a way to do french toast that was unique, fun, and, most important, tasty! We all tossed a bunch of ideas out there, and one of them was french toast bread pudding. All heads tilted curiously at this idea, so of course we tried it. The idea was for it to be like a true bread pudding—tea-infused, of course—but when the first batch came out, our chef said, "I don't think this one is right—the top is crisp and chewy, but the bottom may be mushy." We tried it, and lo and behold, there it was, the brunch item that would make eyes widen and taste buds explode: a layer of crisp and chewy french toast on top and a wonderfully gooey, creamy bread pudding infused with apricot brandy tea underneath. Note that you will need eight 2-inch-deep oven-safe glass bowls (8-ounce ramekins or crème brûlée dishes work well).

Ah, the pumpkin scone. The most discussed and praised scone on the planet. In all honesty, this scone was a happy accident of sorts. for Thanksgiving 2003, our baker, Sue McClinton, had the idea of making a pumpkin scone instead of a pumpkin cheesecake, and because of its popularity (and the fact that Haley has to have one every day), we kept it on through Christmas that year. Once the holidays were over and the mistletoe un-hung, Sue moved on to another type of scone, and all- but-rioting broke out that week when patrons discovered that there were no pumpkin scones. We heard the message loud and clear and have had pumpkin scones on the menu every day since then. In fact, pumpkin became our staple scone well before the standard and expected buttermilk scone entered our daily repertoire! Moist, slightly spicy, definitely gooey, and sweet on top (think of pumpkin pie inside a scone and you get the idea), the pumpkin scone remains a major favorite, and Haley—and now her kids— continues to have one almost each day! (In fact, Haley's son, Maddan, constantly begs to take one to school for a snack.)
These scones are best when served warm, but if you aren't serving them right away, we recommend that you don't glaze them until shortly before you serve them.

If Santa's elves grew citrus trees, these sparkling lemony bites would surely be among the branches. Our favorite in a year rich with cookies, these adorable little balls look like nothing found in any store. They melt in your mouth, leaving behind a lovely citric freshness. Roll them in brightly colored sanding sugar to make them twinkle like vintage ornaments.

The war was on, and sugar was rationed. Aiming to do its patriotic bit, Gourmet printed an article showing readers how to use honey in place of sugar. The author of the article considered the shortage of sugar a good thing, harrumphing that until the discovery of sugar refining in the middle of the eighteenth century, cooks were very happy to rely on honey. He expressed the hope that "with the present curtailment in our sugar supply, honey will regain much of its former glory." That desire is probably why these cookies are so good; delicate and barely sweet, they are almost biscuit-like and go well with cheese. They also improve immeasurably with age. In a sign of the times, the recipe ran next to a cartoon of a woman emerging from a car in front of a fancy restaurant, peering at the 30-minute parking sign and saying to her husband, "Sometimes I think you park in these restricted areas so we won't have time to order the deluxe dinner."