Fuyu persimmons, courtesy of Flickr user outdoorPDK

The first time I tried a persimmon was a few years ago. I spotted the attractive fruit at the supermarket, and its smooth skin and deep orange color tempted me to buy one. Unfortunately, I didn’t know that the variety of persimmon I bought—hachiya—shouldn’t be eaten until it is extremely ripe. It tasted like industrial-strength cleaner. Since then, I’ve learned that fuyus, which are short and squat, are the variety to buy for eating fresh; pointy-bottomed hachiyas are better for baking.

Fuyus have a pleasantly firm, mango-like flesh. The most similar flavor I can think of is papaya—sweet, but not overly so, with a hint of floral or spicy tones. Both fuyus and hachiyas are usually available in late fall and early winter. Here are a few ways to use either variety:

1. In a salad. Despite originating thousands of miles apart, persimmons (from East Asia) and pomegranates (from the Middle East) harmonize nicely—both flavor-wise and visually—in a fall/winter fruit salad. For an even more colorful (and very nutritious) dish, toss them with sliced red cabbage, Romaine lettuce, Asian pear, hazelnuts and gorgonzola cheese, as in the Rainbow Chopped Salad from Epicurious.

2. As a condiment or accompaniment. Organic Authority suggests serving a fresh persimmon salsa with grilled fish or chicken. Or it can be cooked into a spicy chutney with apples and raisins, as Moscovore recommends. Firm fuyus can also be sliced and roasted to be served as a sweet/savory side dish, as in this recipe from About.com.

3. Dried. Hoshigaki, or dried persimmons, are a popular treat in Japan, where they are made through a labor-intensive process you’re unlikely to want to replicate at home. But even the shortcut method you can make in your oven—like this recipe from Martha Stewart—produces a yummy (albeit very different, I’m sure) snack.

4. In a drink. Just because I’m teetotaling for the next few months doesn’t mean you have to. Imbibe magazine’s recipe for a persimmon margarita rimmed with cinnamon salt is a novel twist on one of my favorite cocktails. On the nonalcoholic side, 101 Asian Recipes explains how to make a Korean persimmon tea.

5. In dessert. Nicole of Pinch My Salt shares her grandma’s recipe for sweet, moist persimmon cookies. And I would like to be in Denise’s Kitchen next time she makes this delicious-looking fuyu persimmon, pear and walnut rolled tart. Having spent only one very rainy day of my life in Indiana (on the interstate en route from Nashville to Chicago), I was unaware that persimmon pudding was a traditional regional food there. Joy the Baker explains how it’s made (including how to wheedle the fruits from your neighbor), describing the result as “sweet and super moist bread pudding meets spice cake.” Sounds good to me.

Stuffed cabbage, courtesy of Flickr user oomni

After potatoes, perhaps no vegetable has kept more bellies full in more places through winter than cabbage. It’s cheap, it’s filling, and it’s available long after a lot of other vegetables have gone into hibernation.

It’s also versatile and is found in cuisines that span the globe. Whether green, red, savoy or napa, here are a few ideas to keep you inspired through spring.

1. Stuff it. Nearly every country between Poland and Lebanon has its own version of stuffed cabbage rolls, each a little different. In Hungary, they’re called Töltött Káposzta and might be stuffed with ground pork and served with sauerkraut, paprika and sour cream. In the Arab countries of the eastern Mediterranean, they’re called Mahshi Malfuf; they’re stuffed with ground lamb and rice and flavored with allspice, cinnamon, garlic and lemon juice. The ones my mom used to make were probably of Polish-Jewish origin, stuffed with ground beef and cooked in a sweet and sour tomato sauce, similar to this version of Holishkes from Epicurious. For a vegetarian take, this Russian recipe stuffed with apples, dried apricots, raisins and spinach and served with sour cream sounds interesting.

2. Stock your soup. I can’t condone eating cabbage soup every day, as one of the crazier (and most intestinally distressing) fad diets has suggested, but the ingredient does deserve a place in your soup repertoire. I like to add shredded napa cabbage, which has thin, frilly leaves, to minestrone soup; this version, from Food52, includes zucchini and green beans, but you could easily substitute fall and winter vegetables. A simple German soup, from Teri’s Kitchen, combines shredded cabbage with onions, rice, nutmeg and a garnish of shredded Swiss cheese. And for a recipe that is defiantly not on the cabbage soup diet, try Closet Cooking’s creamy cabbage and double-smoked bacon soup, which also includes sausage and grainy mustard.

3. Fry it. My favorite way to prepare cabbage is probably to stir-fry it—it’s not mushy or limp, as it can get when boiled, and it’s not dry and starchy, as it sometimes tastes when raw. Plus, it absorbs flavors perfectly—from a simple Chinese-style soy sauce, garlic and ginger mixture to a complex, Indian-spiced dish with potatoes, Aloo Patta Gobhi Sabzi. Or go soul food–style, frying up some cabbage with bacon, garlic and crushed red pepper.

4. Shred it. Slaws are usually thought of as a summer side dish, but they also make a good stand-in for green salads in the colder months. I Really Like Food suggests adding apple, celery, red bell pepper and autumn spices like cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves for a seasonal twist on cole slaw. And, as a transplanted Southern Californian, sometimes I’ve gotta have my fish taco fix, which wouldn’t be complete without a little shredded cabbage and lime juice—like these ones from Koko Likes.

5. Pickle or ferment it. Germans and Koreans independently came up with the idea to ferment cabbage, with very different but equally delicious results. If you’re ambitious—and patient—you could try making your own sauerkraut or kimchi. Or you can do the shortcut version of either, though they will have a less pungent flavor: A quick kimchi recipe on Epicurious takes only 3 1/2 hours to pickle, rather than days, and Brian Boitano (yes—the figure skater—he now has a show on the Food Channel) improvises a quick sauerkraut to serve with Schnitzel by cooking shredded cabbage with German beer, vinegar and mustard seeds.

How will you be working with pumpkins in your kitchen this fall? Image courtesy of Flickr user Dan Volkens.

With autumn in the air, we will inevitably see a sudden wealth of goods on store shelves and out at eateries flavored with that seminal, seasonal squash: pumpkin. And with Halloween just around the corner, you will also probably see bins full of the brightly-colored squash at your local supermarkets. First off, there’s a difference between pumpkins for carving and pumpkins for eating. Small, thin-skinned varieties are generally cultivated for consumption while the carving pumpkins are fairly bland. Then there are those monster-sized pumpkins that are bred for vegetable-growing competitions and would be kinda scary to try to work with in the kitchen. With some weighing in at some 1,500 pounds, one wrong slice and I’d fear being squashed by a squash. But though we mainly turn to pumpkins for pie-making purposes, the vegetable is much more versatile. So perhaps it’s time to think outside the pie crust and consider other ways you can put pumpkin on your table.

For most recipes, like soups and breads, a can of pumpkin puree should do you just fine and it’s a product that should be readily available at your grocery store next to the cans of pumpkin pie filling. You may have to hunt around a bit if you’re bent on using food-grade pumpkins hot off the vine, but there are a few varieties you can keep an eye out for.

Pumpkin Seeds: These are the only parts of your jack-o-lantern that you should consider eating. While you should totally toss the stringy squash intestines, the seeds are quite tasty once cleaned, dried, hulled, seasoned and toasted. These are great on their own as a snack, or you can use them to dress up salads or an autumnal trail mix.

Dips and Spreads: Looking for another pumpkin-centric snack or appetizer? Puree the meat with seeds and cashews, or pair it with cream cheese for something a little sweeter. You can also create a pumpkin-y spin on hummus, that traditional Middle Eastern chickpea spread.

Soups: Pumpkin can be used on its own to make a soup, or it can be paired with other seasonal veggies—such as potatoes and turnips—to make a hot and hearty meal on a cool evening. And what could be easier that popping prepped veggies in a pot, cooking them down and then pureeing everything? I personally have tried the combination of pumpkin and peanut butter in a recipe from the New Basics Cookbook, which was a sweet and savory soup. (Though I might try organic peanut butter, or something with reduced sugar the next time I make this.) If you’re hankering for stew, you can always throw a few cubes of pumpkin into the pot.

Stuffed: It’s true—a hollowed-out pumpkin can hold more than a candle. In French cooking, pumpkins are used more in savory dishes, such as stuffed pumpkin. Packed with bread, cheese, garlic and herbs and cooked until you can easily pierce the skin, this can make a hearty dinner. But also explore other combinations of ingredients to use, which can be completely vegetarian, use a combination of meats that will pique the appetite of the carnivores around your table or even use dried fruits if you’re in the mood for something sweeter.

Breads: Looking for a pumpkin dessert alternative that doesn’t involve a custard filling? Pumpkin can also be used in spiced breads, a slice of which can be a great finish to a meal. Or, with the aid of some cream cheese filling, enjoy a decadent sandwich to sate the sweet tooth. But you can also go the savory route and make breads to complement your dinner course. In lieu of nutmeg and cinnamon, spice up your pumpkin puree with herbs like chive, basil and coriander, try flatbreads that pair pumpkin with onion, or even go for a simple variation on potato rolls (just sub in squash for your starchy, mashed tubers).

A slice of buttermilk pie, courtesy of Flickr user ralph and jenny

I think I’ve known one person in my entire life who actually drinks straight-up buttermilk as a beverage. Something about a sour-tasting dairy drink is low on appeal for most Americans. (However, it should be noted that other nationalities have similar cultured dairy beverages that are very popular.) But, oh, the things it can do to in tandem with other ingredients.

Today’s buttermilk is really fermented milk, different from the byproduct of butter-churning from olden days. Because it contains high amounts of lactic acid, buttermilk is excellent at helping baked goods rise and at tenderizing meat, not to mention adding tangy flavor to other recipes. The problem is that it always seems to be sold in a larger quantity than any one recipe calls for. And, although it has a fairly long shelf life, it’s always a challenge to find enough uses for the remainder before it goes to waste. Here are a few ideas to help make full use of your next quart.

1. Marinate meats. According to Fine Cooking magazine, buttermilk and yogurt are the only marinades that truly work to tenderize meat. Vinegar-based marinades are too acidic and could actually make meat tougher, while for some reason—possibly the calcium—the only slightly acidic buttermilk seems to stimulate the breakdown of proteins. However it works, it’s especially good with chicken, whether grilled (as in this simple marinade from Cheeky Kitchen) or fried (like this double-dipped version from Epicurious).

2. Add low-fat creaminess. Low-fat buttermilk is creamier and more flavorful than regular low-fat milk, so it’s perfect for mashed potatoes (this herbed recipe from Dash and Bella also contains butter, but it sure sounds good); creamy soups, like a buttermilk summer squash soup from 101 Cookbooks; or sauces, like Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s fish poached in buttermilk, from the New York Times.

3. Cook up breakfast. Some of the best morning foods are even better with buttermilk. It makes for fluffy pancakes, crispy outside/soft inside waffles (so says Smitten Kitchen), and rich scones (these lemon-blueberry buttermilk scones from Sing For Your Supper sound delicious).

4. Bake some bread. Buttermilk’s slight acidity helps activate baking soda and make bread rise. It’s the traditional liquid used in Irish soda bread. Oatmeal buttermilk bread gets high marks from Clockwork Lemon. And chances are good Grandma’s delicious, flaky biscuits were made with buttermilk. Sweet breads also get low-fat moistness from buttermilk, as in this banana-blueberry buttermilk bread from Eating Well magazine.

5. Save room for dessert. The same moistness also does wonders for cake, whether Bon Appétit magazine’s blackberry buttermilk cake or what the Pioneer Woman calls the best chocolate sheet cake. Ever. And don’t forget the Southern specialty, sweet, custardy buttermilk pie; Homesick Texan shares her Grandma Blanche’s recipe, which you just know has to be good.

A fried peanut butter and banana sandwich. Image courtesy of Flickr user pkingDesign.

The peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a classic lunchtime staple that will be popping up in school cafeterias this fall. (Well, unless you go to a school that has a wholesale ban on nut products because of student allergies.) Initially, peanut butter and other nut butters were championed by vegetarians who used the product to create mock meat dishes, while non-vegetarians seem to be the ones who pounced on peanut butter’s potential as a sandwich spread. The sandwich itself became a popular food in the United States in the late 19th century, and the first known recipe for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was published in 1901. Although this is the most mainstream combination of peanut butter with another sandwich filling, there are other, fascinatingly strange permutations to be had. Will one of the following crop up in your lunchbox any time soon?

Fried Peanut Butter and Banana: Outside of your standard PB&J, this may be the most famous peanut butter sandwich out there. It’s most frequently associated with Elvis Presley, although his penchant for this sandwich—peanut butter and mashed banana and pan fried until golden brown—might be a bit exaggerated. “He didn’t eat that many,” Joe Esposito, a close friend of Presley’s, recalled in a biography on the king of rock ‘n roll. “That peanut butter and banana sandwich thing was a treat for him once in a while. He didn’t eat five or six of them, he ate one—they’re very filling.” For those wanting to try this, some recipes call for mashing the banana, others say to slice and arrange the fruit on the bread, while other variations include lettuce and fried bacon.

Fool’s Gold Loaf: If the legend is true, this is Elvis’ other peanut butter sandwich. The story goes that a Graceland guest described an incredible sandwich the guest had tasted at the Colorado Gold Mine Company near Denver. A loaf of Italian bread was hollowed out and filled with a jar of creamy peanut butter, a jar of jelly and a pound of sliced and fried bacon. The whole thing was then either warmed in an oven or deep fried. Elvis supposedly hopped a private jet out to Denver, where the restaurant owner delivered the coveted sandwiches—which are said to cost $49.95 a pop—to the airport. Whether or not the story is true, recipes for this hunka hunka sandwich do indeed exist. Eat at your own risk.

Novelty Sandwiches: So reads a chapter subhead in the 1953 edition of the Better Homes and Gardens New Cookbook. When I hear the phrase “novelty sandwich,” I think back to my mom using cookie cutters to make fun shapes out of a PB&J sandwich. But in this particular cookbook, a novelty sandwich can be the blending of peanut butter with mayonnaise, a combination that is then spread on whole wheat bread and topped with shredded carrot. (Sadly, the book does not suggest an appropriate aspic to serve with this sandwich.) But this isn’t some piece of freak cookery that came about during the mid-20th century’s age of occasionally questionable taste. An 1896 sandwich recipe also recommended the marriage of peanut butter with mayo.

Peanut Butter and Cheese Curls: The brave souls who report NPR’s Wait Wait Don’t Blog Me “Sandwich Monday” series gave this one a go: peanut butter and cheese curls on a bun. The verdict? Not a far cry from the peanut butter and cheese cracker sandwiches. (They also tried peanut butter as a hamburger garnish. However, I don’t think the paltry proportion of peanut butter relative to ground beef can qualify this culinary oddity as a bona-fide peanut butter sandwich.) This pairing of flavors also dates back to peanut butter’s burgeoning days as the sandwich spread of choice and was served in upscale New York tea rooms. Whether you prefer sliced cheddar over cheese curls comes down to what kind of texture you prefer in your sandwiches.

SPAM Kahuna: The Nutropolitan Museum of Art may be a whimsical mesh of marketing and artistry from New York sandwich shop Peanut Butter and Company—or it may be a serious attempt to get you to think outside the lunchbox when it comes to constructing a peanut butter sandwich. In this edible ode to the 50th state, how well do you think SPAM, pineapple and peanut butter would complement each other? (And I’m hoping the peanut butter and PEZ sandwich is just a joke.)

What to do with the corn from your local market? Image courtesy of Flickr user Like_The_Grand_Canyon

Between high fructose corn syrup, corn starch and corn-fed meat, most Americans eat far more corn—at least indirectly—than they realize. But the best way to eat the stuff, of course, is fresh off the cob. We’re talking real fresh, as in within hours of being picked, if possible, before the sugars have a chance to turn to starch. (Unprocessed grain corn, the kind that ends up in packaged food or fed to animals, is a different variety from sweet corn and is inedible, or at least highly unpalatable, to humans.)

I could eat an ear or two of corn, simply slathered in butter and lightly sprinkled with salt, every day of summer. But that would be like telling Shaun White he had to choose either snowboarding or skateboarding, despite excelling at both, or limiting Ben Franklin to a single pursuit of inquiry. Why squelch such potential greatness?

Here are five other ways to let corn shine:

1. In salads. Good corn doesn’t even need to be cooked to add sweet, crunchy flavor to salads. Blogger Heather Christo simply tosses the kernels with cut up mango, cherry tomatoes, scallions and a Mexican-inspired dressing. HoneySage’s recipe for Fresh Corn Salad with Spicy Shrimp and Tomatoes calls for only the briefest of cooking. Summer Corn Salad from 101 Cookbooks includes pepitas (pumpkin seeds) and sunflower seeds and what Heidi Swanson describes as lemonade vinaigrette. And She Simmers explains a simple Thai snack of fresh corn and raw shredded coconut meat; the recipe is accompanied by a poignant recollection of the author’s late mother.

2. In soup. Most Americans give hot liquids a rest in summer, but fresh corn soup is worth making an exception for, or saving for a cool late-season evening. Especially when it includes grilled poblano chiles, as suggested by the Cooking Photographer. For a heartier bowlful, go for creamy corn chowder packed with potatoes—the Reluctant Gourmet offers a vegetarian version, or add bacon, as demonstrated at Kitchen Catharsis.

3. With sage. Corn and sage, like tomatoes and basil, are a combination that always works well together. Gluten Free Cooking School pairs them in Savory Sage Corn Cakes. Food 52 shares a recipe for Corn Risotto with Anchovy Sage Leaf Bite. And KitchenDaily keeps it simple with Sautéed Corn with Brown Sage Butter.

4. With its sisters. The classic example of companion planting is the Iroquois tradition of the three sisters—corn, beans and squash. These three crops complement each other both in the garden and at the table. The blog Tigers & Strawberries sticks with a dish that also originated with Native Americans (and made famous by Sylvester the cat)—succotash, a simple mélange of corn, lima beans, zucchini and seasonings. A contributor at RecipesTap included international influences in Three Sisters Fritters, combining corn, fava beans and zucchini blossoms with tarragon butter and cayenne yogurt dipping sauce.

5. Don’t forget dessert. Considering its natural sweetness, it’s surprising that corn doesn’t feature in more desserts. Brazilians have the right idea, simmering it in coconut milk and cinnamon to make corn pudding. A recipe at Taste of Home transforms fresh corn into dessert crepes topped with lemon cream and apricot jam. But the perfect summer dessert might be sweet corn ice cream—the Kitchn gives a simple recipe.

Green beans. Image courtesy of Flickr user Wally Hartshorn

Green beans are a workhorse vegetable: nothing flashy, rarely the star, but always dependable in a supporting role. They’re versatile, too—they’ll work well with just about any cuisine—which is a good thing, since I am probably not alone in having a mountain of them growing in my garden right now. They’re also abundant at the market, farmers’ or otherwise.

To prove their versatility, here are five out-of-the-ordinary ideas for cooking with green beans, each from a different culture:

1. Southern. Bacon grease “brings out the best in folks—and beans,” writes Christy Jordan on her Southern Plate blog, in a recipe for sweet and sour green beans that also includes vinegar and sugar. Unless you’re a stickler for authenticity, you don’t even have to “cook the living mess” out of them, as Jordan explains that Southerners are wont to do.

2. Greek. Ask three Greeks how to cook green beans and you’ll get three different fasolakia recipes, as recounted in an amusing tale at the site Mama’s Taverna. Most of them (including this one) involve stewing the beans in tomatoes, onions, and sometimes potatoes until sweet and tender.

3. Persian. In Iran, a kuku (or kookoo) is a popular frittata-like egg dish, packed with herbs and/or green vegetables. The Persian food blog Turmeric and Saffron uses those signature spices in a recipe for green bean kookoo.

4. Indian. The Book of Yum compiles gluten-free vegetarian recipes from around the globe. But an Indian-inspired dish of “ambrosial green beans,” with a spiced cashew-yogurt sauce, would appeal to even those without dietary restrictions.

5. Chinese. Dry-fried green beans or long beans are a common feature on Chinese restaurant menus. The cooking method results in ultra-flavorful beans that retain their snap— Cooking with Amy explains how to make them at home.

Rhubarb is delicious. Image courtesy of Flickr user Haikugirl

I’ll admit that, like most, I take my rhubarb in strawberry-rhubarb pie. I think the best pie I have ever had came from a little country store called Heart ‘N Hand just outside of the town of Skaneateles in the Finger Lakes region of New York. My husband and I ceremoniously sliced into it two summers ago on our wedding day.

But whenever I see rhubarb in the grocery store, I am instantly reminded of another delicious memory—my first encounter with the rosy stalks. I think I was maybe 12 years old, with my mom at a farmer’s market, when she bought me a bundle. I chomped into a stick like it was celery, and my face puckered from its tartness. I liked the taste. Plus, there was something so Laura Ingalls about gnawing on the raw stalks.

If you are thinking about picking up a bundle (as I now am!) or have some rhubarb in your garden or CSA box that you don’t know what to do with, I did a little research. Of course, there are plenty of baked options (pie, cobbler, crisp, even muffins), but my intent is to offer up a few more unusual options.

1. Raw: Before you do any cooking with rhubarb, you ought to at least try it raw. (Note: Be sure to remove all the leaves, as they are poisonous.) Many suggest dipping the stalk in sugar or some other sweet, such as honey, maple syrup or agave nectar, to mellow its tartness a touch. Sprinkling diced rhubarb over yogurt or cereal is an option too.

2. Stirred: Rhubarb, like cranberries, can add a tart zing to a smoothie, and if you puree the vegetable, it can be added to a margarita as well. Celebrity chef Jamie Oliver suggests making a jam by slicing rhubarb and cooking it with a couple tablespoons of water, blending and cooling it, and then adding champagne or prosecco for a rhubarb bellini. For a tasty nonalcoholic beverage, Serious Eats starts out by making a similar rhubarb syrup but instead adds it to freshly-steeped iced tea, topping it off with strawberries.

3. Smothered: Rhubarb sauces, chutneys and salsas add a unique flavor to savory dishes. Food writer (and occasional Smithsonian contributor) Kim O’Donnel says that rhubarb chutney—a good way to make use of rhubarb before it wilts—complements salmon, trout, roast chicken, turkey, duck and pork chops. It sounds easy too. She cooks one-inch pieces of rhubarb with orange juice, vinegar, brown sugar, ginger, cinnamon and dates.

A surprisingly butterless recipe from Paula Deen for grilled chicken with rhubarb salsa calls for a salsa that mixes together rhubarb, strawberries, jalapeno, lime juice, cilantro and olive oil. Yum! But perhaps the most creative condiment is rhubarb aioli, which award-winning chef Vitaly Paley of Paley’s Place in Portland, Oregon, pairs with pork. He folds a rhubarb reduction into his homemade garlic mayonnaise.

4. Roasted: Raw julienned rhubarb can be added to a garden salad, but several recipes I have found instead suggest roasting chunks of rhubarb on a baking sheet drizzled with honey or sprinkled with sugar for about five minutes, letting them cool and then tossing them in with greens. These same recipes (example: from Martha Stewart) recommend a killer combination of rhubarb, toasted walnuts, goat cheese, arugula and fennel.

5. Dried: This one is rather time-intensive, and requires a dehydrator, but the fruit-roll-up-loving kid in me likes the sound of the rhubarb leather one commenter on Backpacker.com describes. Basically, to make it, you cook rhubarb in water, with a cinnamon stick, and add sugar to taste, until it is the consistency of applesauce. Then, you pour it into dehydrator trays lined with parchment paper and dry at 135 degrees for nine hours.

Delicious looking watermelons, courtesy of Flickr user whologway

If watermelon were a brand, it would be a very successful one. First of all, it has a name that tells you exactly what it is—at more than 90 percent water, it’s the juiciest fruit going. It has attractive packaging. Plus, it’s got impeccable timing. It doesn’t even bother making an appearance until summer really heats up and all anyone wants is something cool, sweet and hydrating. If they could only figure out that seed problem. (Sorry, so-called seedless watermelons are neither truly seedless nor, in my experience, as good as the original.)

The best way to eat watermelon? Straight up, by the wedge, bare feet dangling into a pool, lake or other body of water. But here are five other pretty good ideas:

1. Salads. It’s Greek. It’s salad. But it’s not Greek salad. Toss together some watermelon with feta cheese and olives and you’ve got the basics of a classic Aegean summer dish. For a twist: Grill the watermelon, as Recipe Girl does, to caramelize the sugars. Jacques Pépin adds fresh mint and Tabasco sauce. The Food Section gives equal billing to another quintessential summer fruit, tomatoes. Bobby Flay takes it in a Southwestern direction by swapping in jicama instead of olives and feta and adding lime juice.

2. Drinks. Watermelon is practically a beverage already, but it’s also a natural in cocktails and nonalcoholic drinks. You can mix up a Mexican-style agua fresca with lemon juice and mint. What’s Cooking in America makes the novel suggestion of blending watermelon puree with rosewater and lime juice. Imbibe magazine offers a spicy watermelon margarita recipe for those who like that hot-cold, salty-sweet combination. Or just cut to the chase and spike the whole melon with vodka (recommended only if you have a large group of friends to help finish it off).

3. Soups. The most ubiquitous summer soup isn’t necessarily made with tomatoes; a watermelon-cucumber gazpacho from Salon comes with a Spanish cultural history lesson. I’m intrigued by the addition of buttermilk and rosewater (apparently not as novel an ingredient as I thought) in a Bulgarian chilled watermelon soup. Thai-spiced watermelon soup with crabmeat from Epicurious also sounds delicious.

4. Dessert. Watermelon only needs the slightest nudging to be taken into the dessert category—Wicked Good Dinner explains how to make a watermelon granita by simply freezing the pulp with some salt and sugar and adding fresh basil. “Watermelon” ice cream pie is adorable but it’s made with lime and raspberry sherbet; Emeril Lagasse offers a recipe for real watermelon-flavored ice cream with chocolate chips (they look like seeds).

5. Pickled. You don’t have to be a freegan to want to minimize food waste. Why throw away all that watermelon rind when it only takes a couple of days or so to turn it into pickles? Seriously, according to The Bitten Word, they’re not very complicated to make, and if you’ve never tasted sweet-sour pickled watermelon rind you are missing out on one of the triumphs of southern pickling. Pickled pig’s feet, on the other hand, I’m not so sure about.

Artichokes, courtesy of Flickr user Meanest Indian

Eating local food is all well and good if you live in a fertile area with the weather to support diverse crops, but it’s a cruel dogma to impose too strictly on those in less abundant locales. Along with avocados, the one item this Californian-turned-Northeasterner can’t bear to forsake is artichokes, which are now in season. Virtually all American artichokes are grown in my former home state, with the majority clustered along the central coast. As attractive as the California poppy is, I would have to choose the artichoke as its replacement for state flower—that’s what it is, a type of thistle that is harvested at the bud stage.

Artichokes have a nutty flavor and starchy texture, with a slightly sweet aftertaste that can transfer to foods you eat afterward. They’re a good source of dietary fiber, vitamin C, folate, magnesium and potassium. Part of the fun of eating a whole artichoke (steamed for about a half hour) is peeling off each leaf and scraping off the meaty flesh between your teeth until you reach the best bit—the heart. Butter or mayonnaise are simple, traditional and perfectly acceptable accompaniments, but why stop there? Here are five other ideas:

1. Dip it. You can kick your mayo up a notch with lemon juice, Dijon and Worcestershire, as cookthink recommends. The fancier French version of mayonnaise, aioli, gets further gussied up with Meyer lemon and saffron at Chow. Or skip the egg entirely—sharp and salty flavors like anchovies, capers, vinegar and tarragon are a good match in a salsa verde from Bon Appétit.

2. Grill it or roast it. Though steaming artichokes keeps them succulent, grilling adds smokiness and roasting concentrates their nutty and sweet flavors. Cooking for Engineers offers step-by-step grilling instructions, with a bonus tutorial on eating the globes and even proper nomenclature for the leaves, which are actually called “brachts.” I did not know that. For roasting instructions see the Chow recipe in #1.

3. Braise it. The most delicious artichoke dish I’ve ever had (and this is saying a lot) was probably the braised artichoke hearts in lemon juice that I had many years ago in Crete. This recipe adapted from Gourmet by Deb at Smitten Kitchen—who shares both my love for artichokes and lament at their non-localness—sounds pretty close. Or maybe it was more like this one, from Alice Waters via Orangette.

4. Stuff it. Save your guests the task of dipping each leaf—I mean bracht—individually by stuffing them with seasoned bread crumbs, curry-flavored couscous, or with minced meat and pine nuts, Lebanese-style.

5. Fry it. It’s not a surprise that both the winner and the runner-up in the artichoke recipe contest at Food52 were for fried artichokes (breaded hearts in the former, whole baby artichokes in the latter). It’s like one of those syllogisms you learned in logic class: Artichokes are delicious. Frying makes most foods taste even better. Therefore, fried artichokes are ridiculously delicious.

For even more ideas, swing by the Castroville Artichoke Festival, May 21 to 22, in Monterey County, California.

Easter eggs. Image courtesy of Flicker user MrB-MMX.

My Mom always packed my Easter basket with a fun assortment of holiday-themed candy, from jelly beans to chocolate rabbits and marshmallow peeps. And then, the crème de la crème: Cadbury Crème Eggs. I loved the candies themselves for their sheer novelty value: chocolate eggs filled with a fairly convincing fondant impression of yolks and whites. And then there was the clucking bunny ad campaign that aired on television, followed up by a commercial with other bunnies and then a menagerie of other creatures vying for the position of Crème Egg spokesanimal. I was a kid. I thought this was hilarious. And the whimsical television spots only bolstered the eggs’ wundercandy ethos. That said, I was thrilled to find that people have considered the culinary value of these treats beyond unwrapping them and popping them into one’s mouth—they’ve come up with Cadbury eggs for the more adult, discerning palate. Perhaps this year you might want to prepare these seasonal sweets in one of the following ways:

1. Deviled

Some creative cooks found ways to make the Cadbury equivalent to classic egg dishes. And if you’re looking for another excuse to use that deviled egg platter gathering dust in your closet, here’s your opportunity to create a festive presentation piece that—with the combination of chocolate, fondant, buttercream frosting and sprinkles—ought to satisfy the most voracious sweet tooth.

2. Cadbury Eggs Benedict

If you thought poached eggs swimming in a rich Hollondaise sauce was decadent, what say you to slightly melted Cadbury eggs served atop half a doughnut and a chocolate brownie with a side of pound cake “hash browns”?

3. Fried

No, someone out there hasn’t figured out how to make Cadbury eggs sunny side up (yet). With this recipe, we’re talking about carnival-style, artery-clogging, battered and deep-fried guilty-pleasure food. The video only asserts that you can indeed fry these treats, so you are left to your own devices when it comes to selecting an appropriate batter and frying oil. Perhaps a nice funnel cake batter would do the trick. In the DC area and feeling lazy? Alexandria’s Eamonn’s Dublin Chipper has some for you to try through Sunday.

4. Crepes

Do you also have a crepe pan that is dying to be used? Try this variation on chocolate crepes where you fold bits of chopped up Creme egg into the batter. This recipe deserves props for elegant use of the Creme egg as garnish, with fondant frosting oozing all over a plate of artfully arranged crepes.

5. Cadbury Creme Egg McFlurry

Yes, this is actually a product that McDonalds rolls out every year at Easter—a regular McFlurry with bits of Cadbury chocolate and fondant whooshed in. However, it’s available only in the U.K., so for us poor unfortunate souls on this side of the pond, we must content ourselves with watching the playful TV promos. Or, if you’re feeling adventurous and innovative, make your own McFlurry at home and work in some gooey Cadbury goodness.

If you’re feeling eggstra (ha ha… hmm) adventurous, you can try making Crème Eggs from scratch. Also, if you’re looking to have some fun with the rest of your holiday goodies, check out Amanda’s post on cooking with Easter candy.

Matzo pizza, courtesy of Flickr user paurian

Yesterday Brian Wolly gave a “Gentile’s guide” to keeping kosher at Passover. Despite being non-Gentile (that is, Jewish), I found it helpful myself, since I grew up in a secular family that observed Passover as part of our cultural heritage rather than religious belief. Our celebration was mostly about food and tradition (though we were not, as with the converted dentist in an episode of Seinfeld, only “Jewish for the jokes”). Whether you’re keeping kosher or not, the unleavened bread called matzo (also spelled matzah or matzoh) is a mainstay of the festival—and not just for schmearing with chopped liver or charoset.

Here are five ideas for taking matzo beyond the seder:

1. Matzo Brei. Matzo brei, broken pieces of matzo dipped in egg and fried, is Jewish comfort food, delicious in its simplicity. It’s good for breakfast with maple syrup (hmm, is that kosher? Brian?) (Ed. — yes) or cinnamon sugar, or you can get fancy with savory versions. Melissa Clark at A Good Appetite has added lox and onions to sate her Passover longing for bagels. Or take a cue from Mexican cuisine with matzah chilaquiles, a twist on the fried tortilla dish—try Jewish Fusion’s version or just replace the tortillas in a standard recipe (this Guadalajara style chilaquiles recipe sounds promising).

2. Savory Pies and Bakes. Last night I tried a recipe for spinach and matzoh pie from Gourmet magazine (via Epicurious), and it was as advertised: an easy variation of spanikopita, with matzo instead of phyllo dough and tangy feta cheese and dill. That got me thinking that matzo could probably also stand in for lasagna noodles; sure enough, I found a number of recipes. Albion Cooks recommends a spinach and ricotta filling; Cooking Light adds eggplant and mushrooms; Jamie Geller, of Joy of Kosher, offers a recipe for whole wheat butternut squash matzo lasagna that sound good.

3. Grilled Matzo Sandwiches. Just because you’re observing Passover doesn’t mean you can’t simultaneously celebrate Grilled Cheese Sandwich Month. The blog Cheese and Champagne found a simple version with cheddar to be lacking in comparison to the standard, so maybe this is the time to get creative—Grilled Shane combines charoset and brie, which sounds like a perfect flavor combination, and Doves and Figs soaks the matzo in Passover wine before grilling with cheddar, for a “drunken Passover grilled cheese.” You could also interpret it as a matzo-dilla, adding veggies, beans and salsa.

4. Matzo Salad. A lighter idea comes from Diets in Review, a variation on panzanella—a salad of tomatoes, cucumbers and basil with matzo pieces in place of the traditional bread cubes. Even better, it can replace the flatbread in the Middle Eastern salad called fattoush, as offered by Two Lazy Gourmets.

5. Dessert. The Kitchn calls this caramel and chocolate–topped matzo candy “matzo crack.” My aunt makes a similar, delicious recipe with only chocolate and nuts (I don’t know if the link goes to the same recipe she uses, but it sounds similar), and I can only imagine the addition of caramel would make it even better. If you like the flavor combination of wine and chocolate (and if you don’t, who are you?), Cooks.com shares a chocolate matzo torte recipe that should fill the bill.

A lemon, image courtesy of Flickr user Miss Muffin

In spring a Northerner’s fancy turns lightly to… anything other than the same old starchy winter vegetables I’ve been eating for months. I don’t remember if this used to happen to me when I lived in a snow-free climate, but now that I live up north the only things I’m craving more than balmy breezes and flowers at this time of year are bright, sunny flavors to perk up my palate. Lemon fits the bill nicely. Not only does it add zippy flavor to everything it touches, a bowlful of lemons doubles as both cheerful table decor and subtle home fragrance. I’ve never seen anyone use rutabagas as a centerpiece, and I’m pretty sure parsnip-scented dishwashing liquid would be a commercial flop.

Plus, lemons have been curing scurvy since the 1600s—and providing entertaining videos of pucker-face babies since at least the dawn of YouTube.

If life hands you lemons, say, “thank you,” and don’t limit yourself to lemonade. Here are five ideas:

1. Breakfast. The best time to wake up your taste buds is first thing in the morning, no? You could go sweet, topping your favorite morning bread product with lemon marmalade, a sophisticated alternative to orange. (If you’re going to make it yourself, you might want to hold out for Meyer lemons—they’re a little sweeter and have thinner, tenderer rind). Or try fluffy lemon-ricotta pancakes, which use only the zest (squeeze the juice to use later, or mix up some Bloody Marys, if it’s that kind of morning). If you’re more a savory breakfast type, go for the whole classic New York bagel schmear: cream cheese, lox, capers, red onions and thin lemon slices (tomatoes are also a possibility, if you can find good ones at this time of year).

2. Soup. A recent Inviting Writing essay (with recipe) by a reader who tried to perfect her mother-in-law’s avgolemono soup may have sparked my latest round of lemon obsession. The ultra-lemony soup is one of Greek cuisine’s many delicious uses of the citrus fruit. Lemon also brings lentil soup into new and exciting territory (a squirt of lemon juice can even—almost—rescue bland, over-salted canned lentil soup, I find).

3. Main dishes and sides. The possibilities here are endless—chicken or fish piccata (I like this variation using miso paste); lemon pizza; lemon risotto (Giada de Laurentiis serves it in a lemon cup, if cute presentations are your thing); sole meunière, the French dish that Julia Child said changed her life; and Lee Lum’s Lemon Chicken is one of the recipes I’ve been wanting to try from Amanda Hesser’s The Essential New York Times Cookbook (originally published in the paper in 1969), but I haven’t been able to find water chestnut flour.

4. Desserts. For people like me who like their sweets cut with some tartness, this is the category where lemon truly shines. Last year I made a lemon tart from Cook’s Illustrated that came out brilliantly, if I do say so myself (the link is blocked to non-subscribers, so you can sign up for a 14-day trial or try this one with a pine-nut crust, from Epicurious.). Nigella Lawson’s lemon polenta cake sounds good. And for the true lemon lover, Smitten Kitchen offers a recipe for Shaker lemon pie that uses macerated thinly sliced Meyer lemons, peel and all. Those Shakers sure had some interesting ideas for baked goods. Of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention an American classic, lemon meringue pie.

5. Drinks. Now, I’ve got nothing against lemonade, especially on a hot summer day. But why not at least jazz it up with basil, mint or—though I can’t advocate it—cilantro? It certainly wouldn’t be out of the question to add some vodka to any one of those concoctions. Even better, do as Tyler Florence does, and make icy lemon-ginger vodka cocktails or, if you can wait 80 days, make your own limoncello. And did I mention the Bloody Mary? Well, it bears repeating.

All the hubbub about Wikileaks has me thinking about another kind of dish from an underground source…leeks!

When my father-in-law sent us home from Thanksgiving with a bag full of fresh leeks from his garden, I thanked him (diplomatically, of course), but was secretly befuddled. Having seen leeks only in restaurant dishes, I’d assumed they were something smaller, closer to scallions. These were white cylinders nearly as wide as soda cans, lopped off at the top as they grew greener.

After a bit of online research, I learned that late-harvested leeks like the ones I got are bigger than spring ones, with a stronger flavor that’s still milder than most onions. These bulbous vegetables have been called “the poor man’s asparagus” in France, but in Wales, people wear leeks (yes, wear them!) as a treasured national symbol. Ancient Egyptians and Romans apparently loved leeks, too.

Chopped leek, courtesy Flickr user Scot Rumery

Leeks can be cooked in many different ways. A few suggestions:

1) Potato-leek soup. A classic, easy-to-prepare winter comfort food. I made mine without a recipe, first sauteeing some chopped leeks and butter in a saucepan for about 10 minutes, then adding chopped potatoes and broth to simmer for about 20 minutes (until soft), and pureeing it with an immersion blender. I added some plain yogurt, creme fraiche and rosemary for a richer taste and texture, and crumbled a bit of blue cheese on top before serving. Yum. For a more precise recipe, see Pinch My Salt. Simply Recipes also has a creamless version with a kick, and NPR’s The Splendid Table offers several variations on Julia Child’s classic leek and potato soup recipe.

2) Risotto. I’m a little addicted to making risotto, as my husband, Charles, can attest. Cold weather only makes me crave it more. But at least my repertoire is expanding! This caramelized leek risotto from Daily Unadventures in Cooking is phenomenal. Cauliflower or butternut squash would be tasty additions, and if Charles didn’t hate mushrooms, I’d also be trying The Kitchn’s mushroom and leek risotto. (That blog also has a helpful explanation of how to clean leeks.)

3) Latkes. Add another one to Jess’s list of not-so-orthodox latkes! One of my favorite blogs, Food & Style, recently featured an enticing butternut squash and leek latke recipe, although carnivores may prefer these leek and beef latkes. Along the same lines, WGBH’s The Daily Dish has a recipe for shredded potato cakes with leeks and cheese.

4) Mac & Cheese. Just when I thought homemade macaroni and cheese couldn’t get any better…it did. Try this recipe from Food & Wine, which the Capital Spice bloggers can testify to.

5) Bread Pudding. Smitten Kitchen wins the prize for most creative use of leeks with this Leek Bread Pudding recipe adapted from the Ad Hoc cookbook. Doesn’t that look great?

Also, a recipe to keep in mind for spring—Martha Rose Shulman’s grilled leeks with romesco sauce make me dream of warmer weather.

Do you like leeks? How do you use them?

Fresh cranberries abound at this time of year, and you may even be ambitious enough to slog through a bog to pick your own, as my friend Bryn did in Massachusetts. (It was fun, but next time she’d prefer to try it without a 30-pound toddler on her back, she said.) After baking all afternoon, she still had 2 bags of berries to use up and was soliciting recipe advice.

Cranberries, courtesy Flickr user jillmotts

So, this entry is for Bryn—and for people like me who buy too many fresh cranberries at the grocery store simply because they’re seasonal and on sale, but don’t know what to do with them!

1. Red and Green: Cranberries can grace your Thanksgiving table in more ways than just sauce. Use them to add color and zing to your green vegetable sides, like these roasted brussels sprouts with cranberry brown butter or wilted kale with cranberries.

2. Red and Orange: They also pair wonderfully with orange vegetables—try Simply Recipes’ butternut squash, cranberry and apple bake, this cranberry sweet potato bake or some roasted carrots with fresh cranberries. I’m also intrigued by the idea of apples and cranberries baked in a pumpkin.

3. Red and Brown: Bryn’s favorite recipe is Mollie Katzen‘s cranberry brown bread, which balances the berries’ tartness with molasses, orange juice and brown sugar. You can find it in Katzen’s “Enchanted Broccoli Forest” cookbook, or see this version on Modern Sage. I can’t wait to try it!

4. Red and White: Baked apples are my latest obsession. Peel the top third of some large apples and scoop out their cores (I used a grapefruit knife and a melon baller), leaving the bottoms intact. Squeeze a lemon over them, using your fingers to coat any exposed parts of the fruit. Stuff the cavities full of cranberries coated in brown sugar, the zest of one orange and a generous sprinkle of cinnamon. Put the apples in a glass baking dish, and pour a few tablespoons of sweet liquid into and over each one—I used pear cider with a splash of maple syrup and cognac. Bake at 325 degrees for an hour, basting occasionally. Top with white chocolate shavings, as this Cooking Light recipe suggests, or a scoop of your favorite white topping, like creme fraiche, whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

5. Red and Blue: Make your cranberry sauce more interesting by throwing some blueberries into the mix, as Elise from Simply Recipes suggests, and maybe even some red wine. You can also pair the berries in a dessert, such as Sweet Life Kitchen’s cranberry blueberry pie or Food for Laughter’s cranberry blueberry crumble.

What’s your favorite way to eat fresh cranberries?