What a treat! This early summer dessert is easy to make and it looks and tastes like something special. 

There's not much to this, so the focus must be on the berries and cream. The flavor can really sparkle with fresh local berries, but more than that is the problem of watery berries. A pint of those enormous supermarket strawberries has less flavor than six or ten natural berries, the flavor is simpler, and the berries are full of water too. 

This simple dish responds well to a variety of garnishes, from chocolate sauce to mint leaves to sour cream and even balsamic vinegar. 

Here's another gem from Jasper White's Cooking From New England. I love to make this every June when the peas come available at the farm stands and farmers markets.

This can be made a few days ahead. Like many soups, it improves with a day of rest so the flavors come together.  

The mirepoix is a fancy French name for the aromatic vegetables at the base of a great many sauces and braises. It's simply 2 parts by weight of onion to one part each of carrots and celery. 

You use a mirepoix when making any brown sauce (Escoffier's Sauce a l'Espagnole and its many fine children), many red sauces, and most white meat demiglazes. You also use it when braising meat, as in a Pot Roast, and in many stews. 

This is really a class of braised beef, examples of which can be found in almost every non-vegetarian cuisine of the world.

The recipe below is full of generalities, because the details vary with the cuisine. For example, a Yankee pot roast is braised in a savory broth, an Italian Brasato in Barolo is braised in wine, and a Belgian Carbonnade is braised in beer.  A German Sauerbraten uses a savory broth, but adds vinegar to it. The vegetables vary by location and the herbs and spices also vary to reflect the cuisine.  Even the cut of meat can inflame passions; many Italians demand the Capello del Prete, which is known in the USA as the Chuck Blade.

This recipe is really about technique, including one very important and counterintuitive one that is essential to the success of any pot roast, so be sure to read the Notes!

We love fresh haddock, simply baked with no crumbs or other distractions from its own exquisite flavor. Very fresh haddock is obviously essential to this dish!

I might have a bit of tartar sauce, and I like a Martini with Naked Haddock better than any wine.

Now that brings up something to think about. We are programmed by our culture to think about pairing wines and foods, and to think what's the right wine for a certain food. But sometimes the besst libation isn't a wine at all! So try a floral gin with haddock. You may find some old preconceptions crumbling.

This New England favorite is a classic accompaniment to Baked Beans. It's easy to make, and the uncooked mixture stores well for a few days, so you can easily make multiple meals from one recipe.

I searched through many recipes to find one that would have satisfied my mother-in-law, who was old Yankee on both sides back to the 17th century. This recipe is simple, so it relies on ingredients and technique. I used Yukon Gold potatoes and frozen salt cod from my local fishmarket (not the kind that comes in a box).

I was reading an old occult-action thriller of the Weird Tales variety, The Brood of the Witch-Queen (1918) by Sax Rohmer. During a scene at a masked ball in Cairo, our protagonist says to his ailing companion:

"I prescribe a 'tango'" said Sime. "A 'tango' is --?" "A 'tango'," explained Sime, "is a new kind of cocktail sacred to this buffet. Try it. It will either kill you or cure you."

Naturally I had to mix up a Tango cocktail before continuing! 

This is a less sweet, equally complex version of Satan's Whiskers. The ingredients are almost the same, with more gin and less of the sweet stuff, and no bitters. 

I made this one with Silo gin from Vermont, reasoning that the apple taste of that fruit-forward gin would play well with the OJ and the triple sec. It was very good, but now I want to try it with one of those spicier gins from Maine, or the Nashoba Perfect 10 to see how they play with the sweet and dry vermouth combination. 

The Mint Julep is a southern delight and a tradition for the Kentucky Derby.  At the race they use Old Times, but that's not really good bourbon and since the race is so commercialized now I figured my friends deserve better.

I boiled up the simple syrup the night before with mint from my garden.

Except for the ice, this drink is a little syrup in a tall glass of bourbon. The crushed ice melts on contact, reducing the liquor to something you can sip for an hour without getting hammered. Ice cubes leave too much room for liquor and don't melt enough to adequately water the drink while cooling it; the result is a drink that is too strong for its volume.

You might think "I like it strong" and you may indeed like it strong, but empirical evidence counts, too: I made a large pitcher of bourbon and syrup mixture and poured it over ice-filled glasses, emptying the pitcher and still facing demand for more. Try it with the crushed ice- it's worth it!

Tsoureki, or Greek Easter Bread, is difficult, expensive, and delicious in an exotic way that takes it far beyond the realm of everyday cuisine.  It is worth learning, if you have the skill, the time and patience, and access to three peculiar ingredients.