I first enjoyed herb-stuffed Roman artichokes in Rome, where they were naturally well-prepared. It was a delicious dish that I vowed to reproduce one day, not knowing that there's a lot to learn about preparing artichokes. 

The basic principle is easy enough: you trim the tough outer leaves and the tips, scoop out the fibrous choke, stuff with parsley and mint, and cook. Well, trimming and scooping takes some time if you're not a long-experienced Roman sous-chef!

This is a wonderful and comparatively simple dessert from the mountains of northern Italy, but it requires a food mill to get the proper texture and look. I made this one for a feast that focused specifically on Italy's Piedmont and Valle d'Aosta regions. The city of Val d'Aosta and the region are at the foot of that famous Alpine mountain on the border between Italy and Switzerland. It is traditionally topped with whipped cream to resemble the snow-capped mountain. In the photo it is surrounded by Marrons Glace and foil-wrapped gianduia (chocolate hazelnut candies) from Torino.

Some recipes put this on a base of Swiss Broyage, which is nice but it adds over an hour of cooking time to whip and dry the meringue.

To get the rugged traditional appearance, sweetened chestnut paste is passed through a potato ricer, forming long threads of paste. You might be able to reproduce that look by forcing it through a colander, but I've never tried that.

You can make quite a pretty salad if you have access to good mushrooms, which is getting easier in New England now that several farms have started in Maine. This one includes Chestnut Mushrooms, Lion's Mane, Blue Oyster, and Button Mushrooms, dressed with olive oil and lemon juice with sea salt, fresh basil, and parsley.

This pretty Laxfilé på grönsaksbädd was one of the centerpieces of our Swedish Christmas Dinner. Fish is certainly appropriate for a Swedish dinner, and salmon is perfect for a festive one. This salmon roasted and served on top of colorful winter root vegetables makes a pretty platter on the julbord.

You could use other vegetables of course, but to be traditional, remember that by Christmastime in Sweden, the freshest vegetables were those in the root cellar.

Few dishes are as mocked and reviled as lutfisk. It has a peculiar gummy texture, a strange translucency, and virtually no flavor.

I've tried cooking lutfisk 4-5 times now, first by the most traditional versions, later with tips from lutfisk fans on the internet, some with melted butter, another with a bechamel sauce... some preparation hold the secret, right?

Finally, I tried my own version. Packaged lutfisk has little flavor of its own, so I wrapped it in bacon because bacon makes everything delicious. 

Except lutfisk. It was amazing! The flavor of the bacon vanished, overwhelmed by the non-flavor of the lutfisk. I had to promise to my diners that my lutfisk studies are ended.

Here's another of the homey-cozy-cold weather dishes that make up the Swedish Christmas julbord: stewed green peas made from dried peas. It's not pretty, but it tastes good and it's a good winter warmer. 

I think of this dish like mashed potatoes, boiled rice, or polenta, a starch backdrop to the rest of the meal. Nevertheless, like many Swedish dishes, I think this one would appeal better to American tastes with a little more seasoning, or some tweaks to the cooking. I added my thoughts in the Notes, below. I hope I don't get in trouble with the Swedish Food Police!

Jansson's Temptation is apparently hugely popular in Sweden, but I can say that this unassuming casserole of shredded potatoes, onions, ansjovis, and cream was not a favorite at our Swedish Christmas Dinner.

I'll have to look for a few other recipes to see if I did anything wrong, but I am including it here now because of its reputation, and because I did serve it at that otherwise fine dinner.

The recipe calls for ansjovis, which are a sort of spiced and brined anchovy, but with a completely different flavor. I saw them at the Simply Scandinavian Swedish market in Portland, but I didn't buy them at the time, assuming incorrectly that they were just regular anchovies from a Swedish maker. If I try this again, I'll be sure to get proper ansjovis. 

Rotmos is Swedish for "root-mash". As you would expect, this is a simple dish of baked mashed root vegetables.

The basic recipe is quite plain, and indeed much Swedish food is rather plain if you've just spent two years exploring Italian cuisine! You can jazz this up a little by using a strong vegetable stock or other stock, but don't go crazy if you are trying to set out an authentic Julbord.

Here's a festive-looking and flavorful Christmas dish from Sweden that we served on the Julbord at our Swedish Christmas Dinner in December 2022. It includes red cabbage, apples, raisins, lingonberry jam, and other goodness.

This dish is good both hot and cold, and in Sweden is sometimes served on a sandwich.

This is one of those dishes that's better cooked ahead of time to let the flavors come together. It stores well and reheats easily.

This is the traditional Swedish Christmas ham. It's an unsmoked ham, boiled and cooled, then glazed with mustard and coated with bread crumbs and briefly roasted to toast the glaze. It's served at room temperature on the julbord, and we enjoyed it in our Swedish Christmas Dinner in December 2022.

You have to plan ahead for this recipe because it takes time for the ham to boil, and even more time for it to cool, preferably overnight. You can save a lot of time by using a pre-cooked ham, which won't be seasoned to your specifications but which will save a day.

This recipe calls for a 5 pound ham, but you can scale it up as big as you like if you are feeding many people.

Here's a surprisingly simple, delicious pie for luncheon or breakfast that you can whip up in under an hour. It works best if all ingredients are at room temperature when you begin.

This classic combination is amazing, and amazingly expensive! I happened upon an opportunity to buy some white truffles in season from Alma Gourmet at a time when I had some extra cash to blow on an extravagance. I had read about and heard about white truffles, but I had never had the opportunity to try them myself, so I grabbed the opportunity, even though it was $295 for a one-ounce truffle. At least the shipping was free!

We tried them three ways: shaved over scrambled eggs, shaved and mixed into the eggs to absorb the flavor, and shaved over pasta with butter and cheese, the way Richmond had enjoyed it at a memorable culinary experience in Venice. This was my favorite way to enjoy them.