Nut

Vegan When it comes to sweet potatoes, American cuisine needs some imagination, and these irresistible burgers are here to help. Just throw a cooked sweet potato into your trusty food processor, along with chickpeas, scallions, and spices, and buzz it into orange tastiness. Two complementary iterations of quinoa (whole cooked grains and flour) step in to balance the sweetness—and also to hold the burgers together—while upping the protein and calcium content. Green pea polka dots round it out in every way, making this taste and color fest even more fun and interesting. • Be sure to use the moist, orange variety of sweet potato (not the drier, starchier white type). • Regarding the quinoa flour: Don't panic. Just get out the inexpensive electric coffee grinder that you dedicated to spice grinding, wipe it out thoroughly, and add 6 tablespoons of whole quinoa. Buzz for less than 5 seconds, and you've got your ingredient—probably slightly more than the amount you'll need for the recipe. • If you're using fresh peas, they'll need to be steamed or blanched for about 5 minutes. Frozen ones require only to be defrosted in a strainer— a brief encounter with room-temperature tap water, then a shake to dry. Either of these steps can be done ahead. • Begin cooking the sweet potato well ahead of time, so it can cool before you assemble the batter. This is also a good use for leftover plain mashed sweet potatoes. You'll need 2 cups. • Toasting cumin seeds is most easily done in a small, dry skillet over low heat. Shake the pan as you go and pay careful attention. It takes only a few minutes to toast them—and a blink of an eye beyond that to irreparably burn them. You can use the same pan (and same method) to toast the peanuts, if you wish. • If you're cooking the burgers in batches, keep the finished ones warm on a baking sheet or an ovenproof plate in a 250°F oven while you make the rest. • These freeze and reheat beautifully after they've been cooked.

The first cupcake Matt ever added to the Robicelli's repertoire was "The CPB": chocolate cake and peanut butter buttercream topped with roasted peanuts and rich chocolate ganache. Sounds awesome, right? Of course it's awesome—how the hell can you screw something like that up? Of course, we eventually tired of awesome and needed to go past that to "mind blowing." So we decided to roll the entire damn thing in crushed-up pretzels and pour more chocolate over the top. You're welcome.

This sammie-side combo fulfills all your midday-meal needs.

Across the Middle East, cinnamon is used not only to highlight the flavor of sweets but also in savory dishes—as in this Moroccan-inspired carrot salad. I toss it here with slender Kamut berries, which contribute their distinct buttery chew. Vibrantly colorful and deliciously juicy, this salad steals the show on my holiday table. Try it also next to steak, grilled lamb, or a simple roast chicken.

If you grew up in Northern California in the 1990s, you lived through the trend that was sprouts. From alfalfa sprouts to bean sprouts, they seemed to find their way into every green salad, sandwich, and omelet. This savory whole-grain breakfast bowl is inspired by those California days, with chunks of ripe avocado, crumbled Cotija cheese, toasty almonds, and a citrus-sparked yogurt sauce. While alfalfa sprouts were prevalent when I was growing up, today I try to branch out, using a tangle of colorful bean sprouts or more delicate radish or sunflower sprouts. These morning bowls couldn't be easier to prepare, but the barley does take a while to cook; I put a pot on the stove first thing in the morning so it'll be ready by the time I've had my coffee and prepped the other ingredients. Feel free to experiment with other grains, too. I've tried this with both quinoa and farro, and it's as wonderful with delicate grains as it is with heartier ones. Morning Notes: Cotija cheese is popular in Mexican and Latin dishes. It's a firm, crumbly cheese made of cow's milk and is used so often because it's milder than feta or even goat cheese and softens with heat but doesn't fully melt. You can also use queso fresco if it's easier to find.

In many cultures dating as far back as the Middle Ages, crunchy, toothsome wheat berries have been sweetened and served for holiday celebrations. In Russia, poppy seeds, walnuts, and raisins are added for a dish called kutya. In Turkey, a similar dish is called kofyas, and in Greece it's known as koliva. The combination of wheat, honey, and dates has survived so long because it is heavenly. Serve small portions as it's quite filling.

When we were first dating, we would stay up in bed for hours trying to come up with new interpretations of classic desserts. Bird chile and passion fruit pavlova; Stilton mousse with walnut Florentine; apple, currant, and Brie pot pie. But some classics we knew not to amp up with "bold flavors" because they were sacred. Such is the tarte bourdaloue. This was one of the first desserts Matt and I were both taught to make in our classical pastry training; it is the pride of any French patisserie worth its (artisinal) salt, and you will treat it with some goddamn respect! Traditionally, it's a buttery tart crust filled with poached pear and luxurious almond cream. However, no matter how mind blowing the tarte bourdaloue is, almost no one in this country knows what it is. French Matt Says: You uncultured American swine! So, in an effort to make this winning flavor combo a bit more popular this side of the pond, we broke tradition and messed with it a little to turn it into a cupcake¿I mean, what's more American than cupcakes? Besides bald eagles, of course, but then again, you can't eat those (yet)!

Customize this recipe by subbing in other nuts and seeds.

Shredded coconut, which is cut more finely than the thick flaked type called for here, will work in a pinch.

If you like, serve this with whipped cream or an extra dollop of yogurt.

A dip that proves collards don't have to be stewed for hours to be delicious.

Consider this sweet and crunchy dessert a free-form fruit crisp. Be warned: The nutty oat topping is addictive.

June 24 is the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist, the traditional day to harvest green walnuts for making nocino, a delicious liqueur invented at a congress of witches, according to Anna Tasca Lanza, the doyenne of Sicilian cooking. Lanza's witches were Italian, but other countries from Croatia to France to the chilly Teutonic regions equally claim greenwalnut liqueur as their own. I learned to make it at the Institute of Domestic Technology, a cooking school in Altadena, California, where I also teach. When you harvest the nuts—working barefoot, according to some folklore—they are smaller than eggs, smooth to the touch, and crisp like apples, because the shells have not yet hardened. The nutmeats, at this stage, are jelly. Like most liqueurs, nocino is easy but requires patience. You slice the nuts and cover them with strong booze, sugar, and spice, and allow the mixture to infuse for forty days, until it is nearly black. The real test of patience begins after you bottle it. Ten-year-old nocino is said to be the best, and certainly you would never drink this summer's batch before cold weather sets in this fall. Mature nocino has a complex flavor of nutmeg, allspice, coffee, and caramel. Drink it neat as a digestif, or use it to flavor desserts. A few tablespoons of nocino lightly whisked into a cup of heavy cream will cause it to seize, as if magically transformed into cooked custard. The thickened cream is called "posset," and can be used as a sauce alongside cakes or other desserts. My nocino recipe is based on those from the Institute of Domestic Technology and Lanza's Sicilian cookbook The Garden of Endangered Fruit. Its fundamentals are green walnuts, 80-proof grain spirits, and sugar. (My secret ingredient is coffee beans.) You can change the aromatics if you like, but use small quantities, because the spices can take over. Green walnuts are sometimes available at farmers' markets, or can be ordered online at www.localharvest.org.

Finely chopped toasted walnuts bulk up the yogurt dressing for this gorgeous salad. It's pretty enough to serve to company, either as the main course of a vegetarian meal or as a meatless offering at a summer potluck.

There are two hits of chile in this dish. It's used early on to infuse the oil, where it mellows. The sprinkle added at the end is more "precocious," says Krajeck. "It's not in every bite, but when it hits you, it makes a big impact."

"Set sun-dried tomatoes on paper towels to soak up some of their oil so the dish doesn't get greasy," Bemis suggests.

An invigorating hit of citrus brings together crisp apples, toasty bread and nuts, and sharp cheese, making this one of our favorite recipes this year.

McFadden always dresses his salads with the acidic components first so the produce can absorb some of those flavors before being coated with oil.

Sweet from dates, sour from lemon, bitter from celery, and salty from Parmesan, this humble salad manages to get all taste buds firing at once.