Baking

Best served at a big family breakfast, this coffee cake rings in the first morning of the new year in Greece. You can easily recognize the cake by its tiered shape, with a small round cake set on top of a large round cake. It is usually flavored with anise seed or mahlab (the ground pit of a Mediterranean wild cherry). The Greek tradition is to serve the cake to the youngest first, then the next to youngest, and so on, working up in age, and the person who finds the hidden coin or trinkets will have good luck for the year.

Cake balls are bite-sized balls made of crumbled cake mixed with frosting and covered in candy coating. They are super-easy to make and form the basis of endless variations of decorated cake pops, cupcake pops, and cake bites.

The simple addition of orange zest adds a delightful dimension to this French classic, with tangy citrus notes enhancing the creamy-sweet custard. Home cooks who don't have a chef's blowtorch can easily use their broiler/grill to caramelize the sugar topping. But remember to leave the oven door slightly open and keep watch. A golden sugar crust can quickly turn black if left too long under the flame.
This dessert was born of a collaboration between the cellar and the kitchen. Some years ago during the creation of Chandon Riche—our off-dry sparkling wine, which has a hint of sweetness—our winemaker recalled the aromatics issuing from the orange tree that grew not far from the wine cellar. He ran to the kitchen with a bottle of the new wine and asked if the chefs could produce a dessert that evoked the same citrus impression. Bitter Orange Crème Brûlée is now a signature dish at the restaurant.
For a nice pairing with this dessert, add the classic ladyfinger sugar cookies, if you like; they bring a crisp element to join the silky custard and the crunch of the sugar. Make them in advance of the crème brûlée.

Charlie Trotter, Charlie Trotter's, Chicago, Illinois
Lee Jones, The Chef's Garden, Huron, Ohio (carrots) A semifreddo is basically an ice cream cake, and Chef Trotter uses carrots, chocolate, and spices as unexpected partners in his version. Star anise enhances the sweetness in the carrots and adds a distinctive hint of licorice to the rich chocolate. There are no egg yolks in this recipe—it's the meringue that gives the semifreddo a smooth texture.

Pie for breakfast? Not quite, but the fragrance of this dish is so good that even the groggiest grouch will be lured out of bed. Look for ripe pears with out bruises, and keep at room temperature overnight. Cut the butter in a thin slice off the stick for melting evenly.

The delicious breadcrumb crust was probably created when white flour wasn't readily available in Friuli.

These buttery cookies would be fantastic with a cup of tea.

The crunchy praline is a nice contrast to the smooth, rich custard.

Golden Delicious apples, which aren't too sweet and hold their shape when cooked, are a great choice for this pie.

In this delicious dessert, tender spice cake is layered with maple-sugar frosting, candied pecans, and a salty-sweet caramel sauce

To serve cleanly cut cheesecake bars, dip a sharp knife into a tall glass of hot water. Wipe the knife dry with a thick kitchen towel, then cut the bars in the pan. Repeat dipping the knife and wiping it every few cuts. (This works for slicing cheesecake, too.)

When you're an American in Paris, there's nothing more flattering than to have French people ask you to share your recipe for one of their national treasures. Of all the things I make for my French friends, this is the one that gets the most requests. The easiest way to describe gougères is to call them cheese puffs. Their dough, pâte àchoux, is the same one you'd use for sweet cream puffs or profiteroles, but when the pâte àchoux is destined to become gougères, you fold in a fair amount of grated cheese. In France, I use Gruyère, Comté, Emmenthal, or, just for fun and a spot of color, Mimolette, Gouda's French cousin; in America, I reach for extra-sharp cheddar, and sometimes I add a little smoked cheese to the mix. Gougères are made everywhere in France (and can be bought frozen in many stores), but their home is Burgundy, where they are the first thing you get when you sit down in almost any restaurant. In Burgundy, gougères are often served with the local aperitif, kir; chez Greenspan, where I serve them no matter what I'm pouring as a welcoming glass, my favorite sip-along is Champagne. I love the way Champagne's toastiness and gougères' egginess play together. Although you must spoon out the puffs as soon as the dough is made, the little puffs can be frozen and then baked straight from the freezer, putting them in the realm of the doable even on the spur of the moment.

My friend Marie-Hélène Brunet-Lhoste is a woman who knows her way around food. She's a top editor of the Louis Vuitton City Guides (and one of the restaurant critics for the Paris edition), so she eats at scores of restaurants every year, and she's a terrific hostess, so she cooks at home often and with great generosity. There's no question that she's a great home cook, but for me, she's the most frustrating kind of cook: she never follows a recipe (in fact, I don't think there's a cookbook to be found on her packed bookshelves), never takes a note about what she does, and while she's always happy to share her cooking tips, she can never give you a real recipe—she just doesn't know it. I've watched her in her kitchen, in the hopes of nabbing a recipe by observation, but it's impossible. Like so many really good cooks, Marie-Hélène starts off with a set of ingredients that could be annotated and recipe-ized, but, once she starts mixing, stirring, boiling, baking, or sautéing, she makes so many mid-cooking adjustments that you just have to throw up your hands and content yourself with being the lucky recipient. And so it was with this apple cake, which is more apple than cake, rather plain but very appealing in its simplicity (the chunks of apple make a bumpy, golden top) and so satisfying that we all went back for seconds. Despite knowing that it was futile, I asked for the recipe, and, of course, Marie-Hélène didn't really know. "It's got two eggs, sugar, flour, and melted butter—oh, and rum," she said. "I mix the eggs and sugar together and then I add some flour, some butter, some flour, and some butter." When I asked how much flour and butter, I got a genuinely apologetic shrug, and when I asked what kind of apples she used, the answer was, divers, or different kinds. Since there were only a few major ingredients, I thought I could figure out the recipe—and I did! (Although not on the first—or second—shot.) I've added baking powder to the mix (and I have a feeling Marie-Hélène might have too) and a drizzle of vanilla, which you can skip if you want. What you don't want to skip is the pleasure of having diverse apples. It's really nice to mix up the fruit, so that you have some apples that are crisp, some soft, some sweet, and some tart.

This is the easiest cookie you will ever bake. It is made as one large cookie that you cut after baking. Sablé means sandblasted, which describes the grainy texture of these cookies perfectly. I saw cookies like these during my travels around Brittany in the northwest region of France, where they use enormous amounts of butter in everything they bake. For a Sephardic twist, I like to add orange blossom water to this parve version of the famous French cookie.

The bris (circumcision) of my twins, Jake and Joey, was rather hectic. After Jake's turn, I was instructed by the mohel to take him upstairs and comfort him. That meant that I completely missed Joey's turn. I was starving and remembered that my friend Trudy Jacobson had brought me her challah. It has a unique sweetness from the honey, a very soft texture from the margarine, and I think the saffron performs some other magic to create a very tasty challah. The rising times are longer that my classic challah, but worth the time.

This recipe is inspired by a cranberry pie from Sarah Chase's book Cold Weather Cooking. My friend Barbara Liberman calls it "easy cake"—I call it delicious. When cranberries are in season, serve it with vanilla ice cream and your friends will love you.

"My fiancé and I just love the coconut cake at the Shubox Cafe in nearby Cedar Grove," Tammy L. Drukker of North Caldwell, New Jersey. "The cake is tender and moist, and the cream cheese frosting is tangy and rich. I have yet to find a comparable recipe, so I hope the restaurant will share theirs." At Shubox Cafe, this dessert is known as Awesome Coconut Cake, aptly named by one of the cafe's best customers. To make this recipe, you'll need to buy one 15-ounce can of sweetened cream of coconut. Some of it is used in the cake; be sure to save the rest for the Cream Cheese Frosting.

Many a copy of JOY has been sold on the strength of this recipe. One fan says her family is sure these are the cakes St. Peter gives little children at the Gates of Heaven, to get them over the first pangs of homesickness. The lemon glaze should be spread on warm cakes or Christmas cookies. It has a fine consistency for embedding decorative nuts and fruits.

This is a basic not-too-sweet dough that can be used for variously shaped dinner rolls.

B&O's menu offers everything from juicy steaks to local seafood, but our money's on the brick-oven pizzas (or flatbreads, as they're called at the restaurant). Savor the arugula, asparagus, and fried egg version while taking in the scene at the restaurant's downstairs bar.