Turnip

This gratin is particularly welcomed on the holiday table by those who love sweet potatoes and hate marshmallows. The cream and butter make this so delicious your guests will lie in bed and remember it happily all year long. You only serve this kind of dish once in a very long while, so the caloric intake is moderated. If your meal has too many sweet potatoes, see the variation for turnip gratin.

Active time: 50 min Start to finish: 50 min

(Bacon and Root Vegetable Stew)

With such hearty vegetables, this can easily be served as a meatless main course.

The lavish efforts involved — the vegetables are braised, then marinated, and finally sautéed — result in a succulent savory casserole that's spicy with pepper and juniper berries and sweet and sour with cherry nectar and vinegar; each vegetable gives the sweet and sour a slightly different twist. The chestnuts, cooked with salt pork, are particularly wonderful, salty and satisfying. Begin preparations at least 7 hours ahead of serving, since the vegetables must marinate for 6 hours.

The shanks need to marinate overnight, so plan ahead. Uncork a spicy Syrah, Pinot Noir or Merlot to go with dinner.

For a simple dinner, present this flavorful soup with some warm crusty bread and a mixed green salad.

In classic Chinese cooking, noodles destined for soup are cooked separately and added at the last minute so that the starch from the pasta doesn't cloud the broth. Because we were aiming for a rib-sticking dish, we broke with tradition and cooked the noodles right in the stock, allowing the starch to thicken the soup slightly.

This recipe was created to accompany Crown Roast of Lamb .

This recipe originally accompanied Braised Beef Short Ribs with Root Vegetable Ragout.

The salty nut topping provides a nice contrast to the sweet mashed turnips.

I leave the roots on the leeks until after cooking, so they don't fall apart. Just wash and trim beforehand.

This is the delicious savory cake served in dim sum houses throughout the year and, most auspiciously, on New Year's Day as a symbol of prosperity and rising fortunes. Turnip cake is made with Chinese turnip, law bock, which is a type of daikon radish. There is also a daikon radish called Japanese daikon radish, which is similar to the Chinese turnip in appearance. To make matters more confusing, law bock, translated into English, means turnip. Some produce vendors do not realize there is a distinction, but the Chinese turnip is more blemished looking than the Japanese daikon, which has a creamier white color. Although Chinese turnip is best for this recipe, whichever one you use, choose a firm heavy vegetable. The turnip should ideally be 8 to 12 inches long and about 4 inches wide. Some people remove only the rind of the Chinese bacon and finely chop the whole piece, using all the fat. But I find this too rich, so I discard the layer of fat under the rind. In recipes that call for Chinese bacon to be sliced, all that is required is a sturdy cook's knife or cleaver. However, when the bacon needs to be finely chopped, as in this recipe, the bacon should be steamed first to make it easier. Make sure to use rice flour and not glutinous rice flour. I've never met anyone who served the entire cake at once. During the first ten days of the New Year's celebration a few slices of all the different New Year's cakes are fried every morning for breakfast or when friends or family stop by. The cake will keep nicely in the refrigerator for ten days if wrapped in plastic wrap.

The stock recipe yields 8 cups; there will be about 1 1/2 cups left over after you make the mushroom soup. To prepare the mushrooms for this soup, wipe them clean with a damp paper towel. Be sure to cut off the stems from fresh shiitakes. If using morels, rinse quickly to dislodge any dirt from crevices.

As all southerners know, eating Hoppin' John—black-eyed peas and rice—on New Year's Day ensures good luck. But it is the collards, traditionally eaten alongside, that bring good fortune! An added bonus to cooking up a mess o' greens is the resultant pot liquor—the delicious, nutritious broth left in the bottom of the cooking pot or serving dish. It is usually served as an accompaniment to that last piece of corn bread.

This is the pot-au-feu from my neighbor the florist. You will find yourself making this a permanent part of your repertoire.