Vanilla

When I was little my grandfather used to spread fresh ricotta on a slice of bread for me and top it with a thick layer of sugar. I loved it then and I still love these flavors together. This is a somewhat healthier version of that childhood treat. The bread now plays a starring rather than supporting role in the form of sweet, crunchy croutons paired with ripe berries and creamy cheese—sooo good. Serve it for breakfast if you are feeling decadent.

The classic custard of Spain, widely made throughout Latin America, is like crème brûlée, but upside down and lighter. Like any custard, it must not be overcooked. The center must be quite jiggly when you remove it from the oven—for beginners, this is a leap of faith, but it’s the only way to keep the custard smooth.

Crème brûlée may seem mysterious, but it is actually quite straightforward and simple. Just remember two things: One, like almost all custards, this one is done before it appears to be; remove it from the oven when it is still jiggly. And two, brûlée means “burnt,” not browned. It’s important that some of the topping blacken; the best tastes of campfire-toasted marshmallows. Chefs, and many devoted home cooks, use a propane torch to melt and brown the sugar in the final step. If you have one lying around, give it a shot—just hold the flame so it touches the sugar, which will react quickly. Move the flame around so it touches all of the sugar; when the melted sugar begins to blacken, it’s done.

Panna cotta is a no-brainer, sweetened cream thickened with gelatin. It has long been made with whatever dairy is around, and I think it’s far better when a certain amount of the cream is replaced by buttermilk. The result is more complex and not so stultifyingly rich.

Soufflés are far easier than most of us have been led to believe, and, surprisingly, they’re quite flexible; with the exception of whisking and folding in the egg whites, they can be prepared several hours in advance. You may, of course, make the soufflé with vanilla extract instead of a vanilla bean. The difference is real but subtle.

Brightly colored gelatins filled with different layers—translucent or pastel—and over-the-top gelatin figurines are sold everywhere in Mexico. I couldn’t have a book on Mexican sweets without at least one gelatin, so I picked one that has familiar flavors. Think of it like a Creamsicle in a whole new presentation. This recipe is based on one from a book by Josefina Velázquez de León. Make sure you use fresh oranges for the best flavor.

Although the name of this drink in Spanish translates into “vanilla oil,” this is no such thing. You can use fresh whole vanilla beans, but this recipe is a good way to use up ones you’ve stored from other recipes. It is a very subtle and lovely drink that I enjoyed in Veracruz, where the beautiful orchid first appeared.

Using vanilla in savory dishes has become more popular, but don’t discount it as just a fad. The vanilla adds a depth and a fragrance that your guests probably won’t be able to peg right off the bat, but I guarantee they’ll love the combination. Sea bass has a clean, slightly buttery flavor that really works with the vanilla oil, while the peas add sweetness and texture and the mint brightens the whole thing up. The extra vanilla oil will last up to 2 weeks in the fridge, and makes a fabulous addition to vinaigrettes. Save the vanilla pod and bury it in sugar, or cover it in vodka to make your own extract.

My Aunt June used to make this boiled vanilla custard almost constantly from Thanksgiving to Christmas so as to keep a steady supply on hand. Ever the ready hostess, June kept the custard stored not in the refrigerator, as you might expect, but in a Tupperware container in the trunk of her car. This ensured that she was never without party supplies, whether she was entertaining at home or calling on friends. We were always glad to see Aunt June coming at that time of year, not least because we knew her famous custard was sure to follow.

Banana pudding is such a Southern classic that I knew I had to include a recipe for it. At the same time, I wanted to give it a bit of a modern twist, and that’s how I came up with Banana Pudding Sliders. You have to learn the rules before you can break them, so here’s my favorite recipe for classic banana pudding—spiked with rum, layered with bananas and vanilla wafers, and crowned with meringue—followed by those sliders I dreamed up.

True pound cake doesn’t include leavening, meaning that it gets all its lift from eggs and the air that is incorporated into the batter when creaming the butter and sugar. For best results, bring the ingredients to room temperature before you begin. Granny’s old-fashioned pound cake is true to its name, calling for a pound each of butter, eggs, flour, and sugar. Proof that “plain” can be a beautiful thing.

We do love our coffee in New Orleans, and we love it strong! Coffee ice cream may be my very favorite dessert, but this runs a close second. It is rich and not too sweet, easy to make, and, because the pôts de crème cook at such a low heat in a water bath, you can make them in pretty, decorative coffee cups and serve them on a saucer.

OK, in my wildest dreams I couldn’t come up with a more perfect dessert for myself. Bourbon, ice cream, buttermilk, pecans, and light, buttery-crispy profiteroles; it doesn’t get any better for me (except for maybe the Blueberry Lemon Crêpes, page 198 . . . oh, and the Blackberry Soufflé, page 196). For some reason my sweet tooth always leans toward anything southern, and anything with bourbon in it is all right by me.

Once the Deep South’s secret, red velvet cake definitely has the nation’s attention. The cake’s distinctive color, the result of a chemical reaction between acidic vinegar and buttermilk and Dutch-processed cocoa, was originally much more subdued than that of its present incarnation. A dose of food coloring is called for to pump that reddish brown into the true red that distinguishes this cake from all the rest. The sweet and lightly chocolaty cake is layered and frosted with an indulgently rich vanilla buttercream. Made with vanilla bean seeds instead of extract, the creamy frosting sports the telltale brown flecks that signal the pure vanilla flavor to come. Some red velvet cakes I’ve tried have been a bit on the dry side, but not this one. It’s incredibly moist thanks to the buttermilk and a measure of canola oil.

Nothing says “ta-da!” quite like a soufflé, making it a fitting finale for the most special of meals. With its dramatic presentation (the soufflé is delivered intact, then broken into and sauced tableside), this deep violet soufflé is one of the restaurant’s most popular desserts. Colored and flavored with the essence of sweet and juicy blackberries, the texture of the delicate soufflé is light, airy—practically ethereal. The thick blackberry sauce, much like a crème anglaise, heightens the berry flavor and adds a wealth of richness to the dessert. Lemony whipped cream is the finishing touch.

This recipe is from Laura Emma, the mother of my friend Sohnne Hill. Sohnne says it was one of her mother’s favorites. After testing it, I know why. Packed with an abundance of fruit, hiding a tender layer of crust in its midst, and topped with a crisp, golden brown top, it is the ultimate comfort dessert.

I named this dense chocolate cake with a mountain of coffee-flavored icing for the 1956 movie Giant. which put the small West Texas town of Marfa on the map. The stars were Elizabeth Taylor, Rock Hudson, and James Dean in his last movie role before he died in a car accident at age twenty-four. Hotel Paisano, where the cast stayed during the filming, still pays homage to the production with a Giant memorabilia room and Jett’s Grill, named after Dean’s character, oilman Jett Rink.