Lemon

A pleasingly fiery cold buster that belongs in your fridge all winter long.

A lighter, brighter option for all you Caesar salad lovers.

Choose a mild, not-too-peppery olive oil for this tender cake; something fruity will complement the lemony sweetness, but an assertively bitter oil will overwhelm.

Editor's note: Use this recipe to make Rawia Bishara's Brussels Sprouts with Panko . Tahini sauce, a smooth blend of toasted sesame paste, lemon juice, garlic and olive oil, is ubiquitous in Middle Eastern kitchens. It is the condiment. There is hardly a dish that isn't enhanced by it—drizzled on Falafel sandwiches and over Brussels Sprouts with Panko; blended with pureed chickpeas for Hummus and with charred eggplant for Baba Ghanouj. My favorite Whole Fried Fish is served with this sauce mixed with parsley. At Tanoreen, I mix it into salad dressings and drizzle it into cauliflower casseroles. My daughter? She dips French fries into it! Learn to make this and you will have a simple, delicious, versatile sauce to add to your repertoire.

Chef Hugo Bolanos of Los Angeles' Hotel Bel-Air shared this recipe exclusively with Epicurious. His turmeric-infused green juice features apples, celery, kale, and parsley but it's a flexible recipe, so feel free to experiment with different veggie combinations. Bolanos recommends swapping in Japanese cucumber for the celery, and substituting Swiss chard for the kale.

Blind-baking the crust is essential: It keeps it from getting soggy when the custardy filling is added.

We like to serve this main with couscous, rice, or grilled bread to sop up all of the shrimp's intensely flavored cooking liquid.

Boost your detox with some potent and bright beet juice. I love the pretty color of beets and their sweet and earthy flavor. The ginger adds a kick and some anti-inflammatory benefits. The lemon makes it all come together. And don't worry; I didn't forget about the greens either. A cup of kale should round things off perfectly. To good health!

Even a simple vegetable side can take on a deep, layered flavor profile when you add umami and heat to the mix. That's why I'm a big fan of bagna càuda, a simmered Piedmontese "hot bath" of garlic, anchovies, red pepper flakes, and olive oil. Thankfully, you don't have to zip around the streets of Turin on a scooter to get a taste of this mouth-filling, savory sauce. Tossed with lemony, oven-roasted broccoli, spicy bagna càuda brings full-bodied heat to any dinner table. Besides, it's just plain fun to yell BAHN-yah COW-dah!

Adding cream thins lemon curd and makes it extra spoonable—delicious in more than just this dish.

Hard liquor, served hot. In times past, hot toddies were often prescribed as a head-cold remedy. Today, liquor as medication is generally frowned upon because of its dehydrating effects. However, if you're one of those people who can't tolerate over-the-counter pharmaceuticals, this beverage may offer the relief you need—just drink an extra glass of water to replenish your body.

A simple snack that takes advantage of the season's first garlic, which is harvested before the bulbs form. Delicious hot or cold.

Can't find Meyer lemons? Mimic their flavor by mixing half lemon zest and juice, and half orange zest and juice.

If you like bold, assertive flavors, this rustic side dish is for you. Try it with roast chicken or pork tenderloin.

If you've never encountered struffoli before, they are best described—visually at any rate—as the croquembouche of southern Italy: small dough balls, and I mean really small, the size of marbles, that are deep-fried and then rolled in honey before being assembled into a cone—as in the French piled-up profiteroles model—or a bulging wreath. Since I was taught the recipe by a pair of Calabrian sisters, I make mine as their Mamma makes hers; and this takes the wreath form. I'll be honest: you don't make these because you're seeking some exquisite taste sensation; struffoli are about custom, celebration, and sweetness. This, in effect, is the festive centerpiece of Christmas in the south of Italy. You get a very real sense of this if you make the struffoli not alone, but in company, with other hands to roll out the dough with you. Children love doing this, by the way, and their little hands are much better suited for rolling the small marble-sized dough balls you need. Obviously, children are best kept away from the deep-frying part of the operation. As for the decoration, I've seen not only the regular cake-decorating sprinkles used but also candied fruit, glacé cherries, almond dragées, and cinnamon-preserved pumpkin pieces. It's the former, solely, for me. And although I've seen only the multicolored ones in Italy, I go for the festive and flag-resonant Christmas sprinkles in red, white, and green. The struffoli would look more beautiful, perhaps, left burnished but otherwise unadorned, although gaudiness not elegant restraint—I'm firmly told—is in order here; I have tried to maintain some balance between the two.

A hint of lemon is perfect in a creamy baked custard. This one has no caramel to get in the way of the lemon flavor. Lemon juice would be too overpowering here. Instead, the subtle lemon flavor comes from steeping lemon zest in the milk for the custard mixture. The heat of the milk extracts the essential oil from the lemon zest skin, and the milk absorbs the delicate flavor. The hints of cinnamon and vanilla are there to support the lemon, not obscure it. Raspberry sauce makes a perfect complement. I wouldn't dream of serving the custard without it.

The lively flavor of this ice is a perfect accompaniment to fruit salad. The key to its smooth texture is making a ginger "tea," then combining it with the remaining ingredients, rather than simply incorporating pieces of ginger into the custard mixture.

People's Pops At first lick, these pops will bring back memories of summer afternoons—but with the distinction that these sophisticated frozen treats are made with fresh fruit and herbs. You can use any watermelon, although yellow is an unexpected change from red. Basil and tarragon are good alternatives to the mint.