Chestnuts are a cold-weather crop, available from early fall to the end of winter. At that time of year, when the plane trees in Italy’s town squares occasionally still have some leaves left from summer and no sign of spring is in sight, vendors set up sidewalk braziers in the piazzas and roast chestnuts over open fires. They are served up right off the grill, piping hot, in newspaper cones. You have to be out and about to get them that way, and bundled in suitably warm clothing to guard against the weather. Once you buy them, it’s a slow, peel-as-you-go proposition. But somehow the divine combination of freshly roasted chestnuts and a hot coffee from a nearby stand chases away the cold and lessens the effort necessary to pry off the invariably recalcitrant charred shells and inner skins. With the already peeled, freeze-dried or vacuum-wrapped chestnuts now available, the pleasure, albeit without the char but also without the chore, is brought to the home kitchen year-round. If you do not use all the chestnuts in the package, freeze the remainder. If you store them in the refrigerator, they will mold after just a few days.
This classic 15-minute sauce is your secret weapon for homemade mac and cheese, chowder, lasagna, and more.
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
Round out these autumn greens with tart pomegranate seeds, crunchy pepitas, and a shower of Parmesan.
The silky French vanilla sauce that goes with everything.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
An extra-silky filling (no water bath needed!) and a smooth sour cream topping make this the ultimate cheesecake.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Crispy tots topped with savory-sweet sauce, mayonnaise, furikake, scallion, and katsuobushi.