Vegetable

One pepper has nearly a day's worth of vitamin A, an antioxidant key to healthy skin and teeth.

Choose portobello caps with dry, firm gills—damp and soft ones mean the mushrooms are old.

Feel-good food: New research shows the vitamin C in acorn squash may help boost your mood.

To cut baking time, fork the tuber a few times, then nuke for 5 minutes.

Eggplants are sensitive to cold; protect them in plastic wrap before refrigerating.

As with biscotti there is an undeniable American-Italian influence at play here but, once again, I embrace this. Actually, though, American-Italian food has had its own influence on the cooking of the Old Country: these days, I am reliably informed by my Italian publisher and celebrated food writer, Csaba dalla Zorza, you can find dried cranberries with relative ease in Italy. The true Italian Christmas dinner is very much about the capon. Yes, you can find capons outside of Italy, although not everyone can quite cope with the idea of eating a castrated cockerel. Many understandably view old-school caponization with distaste, although it is considered ethically acceptable if the rooster has been chemically rather than surgically castrated. I don't know about you, but the idea of eating meat that has been flooded with the types of hormones necessarily involved here gives me the willies. Besides, my Christmas Dinner is my Christmas Dinner: unchanging, ritualistic, an intrinsic part of me. When in Rome, and all that, but if I'm cooking at home, I don't fiddle with my time-honored menu. I'm not going to give an evangelical tub-thump about my turkey brining techniques, as I've done enough of that in the past, but I am still open to other ways of celebrating the Big Bird and this recipe is a case in point. For me, it is perfect for any sort of seasonal supper party, but really comes into its own on a buffet table, as it carves fantastically and is as good (maybe even better) cold than hot, so you can make it in advance and then be the world's most unharried host on the night. You need to go to a butcher to get a while breast joint and you need to ask for it to be butterflied and boned and make sure the skin is left on. I know it might sound a bit of a faff, but take it from me that stuffing a while double breast joint is very much easier than stuffing and rolling a single breast joint, as is more commonly found in supermarkets. Basically, all you're doing here is opening out your boneless turkey joint, smothering it with stuffing, and folding it over. What you end up with, for all the ease of its creation, is nothing short of a showstopper.

Editor's note: Use this with Maricel Presilla's Boiled Yuca (Yuca Hervida) . Ajilimójili (ah-hee-lee-MOH-hee-lee) is the wonderful whimsical name for this Puerto Rican–inspired sauce. How to translate this tongue-twister? It seems that it is a composite of the words ajo (garlic) and moje (sauce), but much more can be drawn from it. In Cuba and the Mexican state of Tabasco, ajilimójili is a colloquialism for the Castilian Spanish intríngulis, a hidden reason that is suddenly revealed, or the workings necessary to pull something off, or the key to making a difficult feat look simple. Why was this sauce called ajilimójili? Perhaps because it has its own ajilimójili—the "inner workings" to make any food it touches splendid. Serve with Puerto Rican Pasteles .

The Christmas season in Puerto Rico is blessed with balmy weather and clear skies. There is nothing like dining under the shade of a gourd tree on Christmas Eve, savoring every morsel of the earthy tamales called pasteles and adobo-flavored pork while looking at the sea. Puerto Rican women get together with their families to prepare pasteles by the hundred, freezing them until needed for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, family reunions, the Fiesta de Reyes, and the religious season called octavas that follows the Feast of the Epiphany. It is the blend of the tiny pepper ají dulce and broad-leaf culantro in the fragrant sofrito (cooking sauce) that gives an unmistakable Puerto Rican identity to these earthy tamales. A dash of vinegar lends the sofrito just the right amount of tang against the mild dough of malanga and plantain tinted orange-yellow with achiote-infused lard. I learned to make these in the traditional kitchen of the Puerto Rican side of my family. While one person took care of trimming the plantain leaves, others were busy grating the vegetables and making the sofrito. There the vegetables are grated by hand, though you can find machines designed specially for this purpose in any market or use a food processor. Puerto Ricans are extremely fussy about the wrapping—it has to be perfect and watertight because pasteles are normally boiled. But I prefer to steam them.

Watercress is the green of choice in Cuba, its peppery taste a perfect foil for the avocado and the sweet pineapple in this classic Cuban salad. I serve it with shrimp in a spicy tomato sauce called enchilado de camarones. In Cuba, the pineapple is never roasted, but this technique adds another dimension of flavor I find very appealing.

For seven centuries, Moors and Christians fought one another in Spain, but in the guise of black beans and rice they surrendered to each other's charms within the all-embracing New World pot. Like the hybrid culture that flourished in medieval Spain, the rice dish known as moros y cristianos is an exemplar of exchange between civilizations. It is feast food in Cuba, where you'll find it in the western provinces. Considering that there is a Veracruzan version of this dish and that Cuba always imported black beans from Mexico, we are left in doubt as to which version came first. Regardless of its place of birth, it is one of the most felicitous rice and bean combinations I have ever tasted. The flavors of all the other ingredients are absorbed seamlessly by the rice, the vinegar providing point and counterpoint to the mealy beans, the aroma of cumin and oregano a subtle backdrop for the meaty smoked bacon, which in turn joins forces with the olive oil to add aroma and sheen to the rice. And then the color, a dark brown or hybrid of white and black.

A sensuous variation on the theme of bread and chocolate is a silky ganache flavored with a garlicky Cuban-style olive oil mojo, smeared over slices of Cuban bread. Because the ingredients are so few and basic, it is important to use a not-too-bitter premium chocolate. I also like the effect of a mellow Spanish extra-virgin olive oil made with Arbequina olives, with their slight accent of apple peel. Sea salt sprinkled on the bread right at the moment of serving brings out all the flavors.

This garlicky sauce is the traditional accompaniment to the starchy root vegetables of the Hispanic Caribbean, especially Cuba. The acidic medium is usually Seville, or bitter, orange juice, though lime juice or white vinegar can be substituted. The mojo is at its best spooned or brushed over piping-hot boiled yuca, plantains, or other starchy tropical vegetables.

This remoulade is a classic French dish and makes perfect use of an under-used vegetable. Choose from capers, parsley or gherkins (or any combination of all three), to add flavour and a pretty hint of green. The celeriac will discolour and brown as soon as it is peeled and sliced, so either use it straight away or soak it in water with lemon juice added, for up to 1 hour before using.

Dickson's Farmstand Meats Dickson's Farmstand Meats is a unique butcher, sourcing their meats from farms with extraordinarily high standards. It is only natural (pun intended) that their chili recipe would be uncommonly good, loaded with flavor as well as detailed techniques for great results. This is not your granddaddy's chili! For example, the main meat is beef shank, a highly gelatinous cut that gives a luscious smoothness to the sauce. The meat is marinated overnight before cooking, and the seasoning gets complexity from smoky Turkish Urfa chile flakes. If you have the time, refrigerate the chili overnight before serving to mellow the flavors.

This may be more of a rémoulade than a tartar sauce, but we've been making it this way since I came to the Oyster Bar. Has it changed at all since 1974? There's no way for me to know—but I doubt it. Be sure the hard-cooked egg and potato are cold when you make this.

This dish is the result of a kind of friendly competition I had with my friend Jeremy Marshall of Aquagrill restaurant in downtown Manhattan. We wanted to develop crusts for salmon: His is falafel, mine is hummus. The lemon oil will be best if you start it a day ahead, so there's time for the flavors to mature.

Feed this luscious sandwich to your egg-eating veggie friends when they get a burger craving, and they'll likely think twice about ever ordering a veggie burger–puck again. When you eat it, it drips and spills everywhere in a decidedly appealing way. NOTE: The bun must be fresh. Really fresh. A stale bun will wreck this sandwich.

The personality of raclette in macaroni and cheese—the combination of cornichons and creamy, salty cheese takes to pasta with an irresistible grace.

Native to Catalonia, Spain, Garrotxa is a throaty, goaty cheese that imparts an almost cheddar-like tanginess. A gray mold blankets this pasteurized flavor titan, which gets its smooth earthiness from the lush coastal grasses that feed the goats raised to make it. Cutting away the rind on this firm cheese is easy, and a sharp knife run down the sides will shave off the moldy exterior without sacrificing much of the Garrotxa beneath. Here, Garrotxa coalesces with two other signature Spanish ingredients, sun-dried tomatoes and Serrano ham, to create an ethereal cheese gratin polished with just a touch of butter, milk, and crème fraîche. This recipe isn't your typical melty, creamy macaroni and cheese; rather, it's a drier dish that allows the ingredients to mingle coyly while remaining somewhat independent.

I think "pumpkin pots" might just be one of my new word combinations. Pumpkin pots. Pumpkin pots. Pumpkin pots. It just makes me happy the way the words flow together. It also makes me happy the way the flavors of the pumpkin, sausage, herbs, and eggs come together in this perfect little side dish for fall feasts.