Snack

If you like your brownies airy and not too dense, these are the ones for you.

It’s often said that when selling your home, you should bake something aromatic and spicy to entrance potential buyers with the homey scent wafting from the kitchen. These pecans are simple enough to make in the mad scramble before opening your house to strangers, and there’s no better way to fill your home with a heady mix of spices. I recommend folding them into Bourbon Ice Cream (see Variation, page 24), which you can happily eat to celebrate the closing of the deal.

These easy-to-make peanuts will make you feel like a chocolatier assembling a world-class candy bar. If you’re anything like me, you can’t keep chocolate bars around the house without breaking off a hunk every time you pass by, so by all means double the recipe if you want, just to make sure there’s enough for folding into the ice cream later on.

This is one of my all-time favorite and most requested recipes. These nuts are lots of fun to make, and you’ll feel like a real candy maker as you triumphantly tilt your first batch out of the pan. Whole almonds get cooked in a syrup, simmering until the sugar crystallizes and clings to them, creating a crackly caramelized coating. This recipe can easily be doubled.

I can’t say I make it a habit of, or admit to, meeting women online. But luckily for me, my first time was the charm. I fell for Heidi Swanson, who entices men (and women) with her gorgeous web site, www.101cookbooks.com. An accomplished photographer and cookbook author, her recipes are tried-and-true and are always accompanied by stunning photos and clever commentary. When we actually met, she was just as charming in person as online—which I hear makes me luckier than most of the other fellows out there. Here’s a recipe I’ve adapted from her site. It makes a healthy, delightfully crunchy topping for ice cream or frozen yogurt for dessert, and since the recipe makes a bit more than you might need, you can keep some on hand for a great breakfast treat as well.

These cashews are simple to make and can be sprinkled over ice cream sundaes. Be sure to keep them in an airtight container at room temperature to keep them as crisp as possible.

I used to cringe every time someone would start a sentence with, “When I was your age…,” knowing that I was in for a lecture, heavy with nostalgia for days gone by. Nowadays, though, I find I’m doing the same a little too often for comfort. But it’s true, when I was younger (perhaps your age), my local ice cream parlor would serve, alongside their gloriously overloaded ice cream sundaes, little paper cups filled way up to the brim with buttered pecans roasted in real, honest-to-goodness butter, for just five cents. Five cents! Yikes! I think I’m becoming my parents.

There are really simple to make and will make you feel like an accomplished candy maker with minimal effort, and they’re very good too. I like these crunchy, salty peanuts liberally scattered all over the top of a towering hot fudge sundae. You’ll notice that I use raw peanuts, not ones that have been previously salted and roasted. If you wish, you can use unsalted preroasted peanuts (which, amusingly, are often called cocktail peanuts) and reduce the baking time to 15 minutes.

After dinner at the marvelous L’Os à Moelle in Paris, I finished up with a dessert of housemade ice cream topped with the most perfect, crispy caramelized almonds I’d ever imagined. After leaving, I passed the kitchen window, where chef Thierry Faucher was leaning outside taking a break. I waved, and he waved back. So I got up the nerve to ask him how he made those fabulous almonds. He hefted a pitcher of liquid, and told me they were simply coated with equal parts water and sugar. The next morning, I immediately started tinkering around and came up with just the right proportions for making these incredibly addictive crispy flakes of almonds.

One of my great pleasures in life is stopping at one of the “shave ice” stands (as the locals call them, inexplicably dropping the “d”) in Hawaii. I watch as they tuck sweet red beans in the bottom of a paper cone and then pile on the shaved ice. I always choose lilikoi, or passion fruit syrup, to be drizzled over the ice. It has remarkable complexity and tastes as if every possible tropical flavor has been packed together into one intensely flavored fruit. Then a shot of sweet milk is poured over it all. I slurp the whole thing down, then I’m ready to tackle the surf again. Or, more likely, just take a snooze under the shade of a palm tree. The inspiration likely came from Japan, where red beans are spooned over ice cream or puréed for beautifully intricate pastries called wagashi. You can easily make them at home from adzuki beans, available in well-stocked supermarkets and natural food stores. Their sweet-starchy flavor is justifiably popular and is especially good paired with Asian-inspired ice creams, like Green Tea Ice Cream (page 40) and Toasted Coconut Ice Cream (page 96). I find chewing on these sticky little beans positively addictive.

To make the tastiest and most colorful granita, be sure to select kiwifruits that are tender and soft to the touch. They’ll have the most vibrant green flesh and the fullest, most tropically tinged flavor.

Either cantaloupe or honeydew melon makes a wonderful granita. Use the best you find at the market. Be sure to heft a few and take a sniff to find the sweetest specimen.

I know people who are grapefruit dependent. They’re addicted to starting their day with half a pink grapefruit. They absolutely have to have one, and frankly, that’s a little odd to me. It’s not that I don’t like grapefruits, and I often buy them with the intention of following in the healthy footsteps of my grapefruit-dependent friends. But the next morning I wake up and honestly can’t seem to face anything but a much-needed, soothing pot of coffee and a couple of nonconfrontational slices of buttered toast. Later in the day, those pink grapefruits become more and more appealing though, and I’ll slice one in half and greedily attack the sections, slurping up the plentiful juice while perched over the sink to contain the mess from my assault. So perhaps I do have some grapefruit issues of my own, but I wait until later in the day before I succumb and take my tumble off the citrus wagon.

Perhaps the most eye-popping of all the granitas, this one has a color that perfectly matches the dazzling flavor of the raspberries. If using frozen raspberries, let them thaw before you purée them.

I love the word spremuta, which means “freshly pressed orange juice” in Italian. At any caffè, if you order one, you’ll be brought a tall, vivid red glass of juice served with a few packets of sugar and a long, slender spoon alongside. Although years ago Americans were astonished when confronted with blood orange juice, this colorful citrus fruit has become common stateside and can be found in many supermarkets and farmer’s markets. When sliced open, they reveal a brilliantly colored interior, and like snowflakes, each one intrigues me, since no two seem to be colored alike. The Moro variety of blood oranges is the most intensely colored, but other varieties, like Sanguinelli and Tarocco, make remarkably colorful granita as well.

Try this granita drizzled with a shot of tequila and sprinkled with a pinch of coarse salt for a Margranita.

The best grapes to use for making this granita are bold-tasting varieties. Full-flavored dark Muscat grapes are perfect, as are Concord grapes, sometimes referred to by winemakers as tasting “foxy.” Speaking of winemakers, just about any grapes used for winemaking make excellent granita. Don’t use the common seedless grapes found in supermarkets, though, since they don’t have much flavor once cooked. The amount of water will depend on the type of grapes you use. Before adding the water, taste the mixture. Add the smaller amount of water, and then taste it again to see if it needs more.

A few years back, while I was making a chocolate dessert during a cooking demonstration, I noticed a woman sitting in the third row was watching me with what I thought was disdain. Attempting to win her over, while everyone ate their samples I asked what she thought, and she responded matter-of-factly, “I don’t really like chocolate.” So smart-aleck me shot back, “You’re probably one of those lemon people!” To which she sheepishly nodded yes. I kept on baking and finished the class. But my accusatory words “one of those lemon people” stuck in my mind, and I worried for a long time that she might have been affronted by my comment. Years later, there she was again in my audience! I was happy to see her, since experts advocate finding resolution to traumatic events in your life (like meeting someone who doesn’t like chocolate). Attempting reparation, I asked if I had offended her several years back. She was surprised that I even remembered and said that no, she wasn’t offended in the least. In fact, she even brought me a tasty gift (not chocolate…but I’m letting that go) and then slipped off into the night. So this is my gift back to her, the mysterious lemon lover, whoever and wherever you are.

Curiously, this granita really comes alive when a few grains of coarse salt are flecked over each serving. When I had friends over for a taste, they were surprised to see me salting their granita, but they quickly changed their minds when they tasted it. Try fleur de sel, hand-harvested salt crystals from France, or whisper-thin squares of Maldon salt, from England.

The arrival of cranberries in the fall magically coincides with the holiday food shopping frenzy. A wonder of nature? Or just good timing? Regardless, I’m happy whenever I find cranberries in abundance. Their flavor is invigorating and restorative, which is probably why they’re so popular around the time of year when many of us could use help after overindulging in copious holiday feasts.