Citrus

Haroseth, a symbolic seder food, alludes to the mortar that the Jews used to build the pyramids when enslaved by the Egyptian pharaoh. Though haroseth visually mimes the unappealing look of cement, its taste is actually a delicious combination of fresh or dried fruit, nuts, spices and wine. There are as many variations of haroseth as there are seder tables around the world, and all reflect a myriad of traditions. This recipe is inspired by my grandmother's simple grated apple, walnut, and cinnamon version, along with the flavors of my husband's Middle Eastern background.

In the winter months, there's nothing like the bewitching, slightly exotic flavor of Key limes or the larger regular limes (a.k.a. Persian) to transport you mentally to some warm tropical spot, preferably an island with an endless beach. This cake, with its tart lime filling offset by billowy drifts of sweet, marshmallow-like frosting, should do the trick. Key limes are smaller than Persian limes and often come packed in a net bag, but don't despair if you can't find them. Persian limes make an excellent substitute (see Cooks' Notes, below, for more details on buying limes). Another helpful hint: Because there's grated zest in both the cake and the filling, grate all the zest you need first, before you start juicing.

My aunt Martha swears that this smoky, sweet, tropical salsa takes her back to Yucatán no matter where she is when she makes it. It works especially well with Cilantro Tandoori Chicken, but it will enhance any grilled fish or meat. If the grill's fired up, throw the pineapple right on it; a grill pan will do just fine if you're cooking indoors.

"Drunken" salsas have been around forever. They were originally prepared with pulque, an alcoholic beverage made from the fermented juice of the once-sacred maguey (agave) plant. Pulque, which is not easy to find outside of Mexico, is not distilled and has a much stronger flavor than tequila, which I use in its place in this recipe. The alcohol is mostly burned off in the cooking process, leaving only its musky flavor. The sweetness from the freshly squeezed orange juice gives this salsa a wonderful balance.

Alain Ducasse— The lobster must of course be alive, its claws firmly closed with elastic bands. After plunging it in boiling water, keep the lid on the cooking pot to avoid splashes.
Paule Neyrat— The flesh of the lobster is particularly low in fat but rich in protein. The vegetables are low in calories but full of vitamins and dressed with a yogurt sauce. This is a luxury dish but one that's really low in fat.

The King's Cake (galette des rois), in whatever form it took, with a "bean" baked into it, has been the king of desserts on Twelfth Night, also known as the Feast of Kings or Epiphany in France, since the Middle Ages. In those days, the French King's Cake took different forms depending on the region. It was a brioche topped with candied fruits in Provence, a flat galette with cream in the North, a dry cake in Lorraine, a puff pastry round with an almond flavored filling in Lyon. À Paris, it was a gorenflot, a sort of enriched bread raised with baker's yeast, something like a Polish brioche. The ritual of this shared cake is symbolic of the day of the Epiphany, commemorating the presentation of Jesus to the Magi on the sixth of January, but it is also redolent of other pagan traditions linked to the cult of fertility that was so popular with the Romans. The "bean" hidden inside the cake was originally an actual lima bean, a symbol of renewal and fecundity, before it was replaced by a tiny porcelain figure representing the Christ child, then by a host of trinkets. Today, the marzipan-filled, puff pastry round has gained supremacy almost everywhere. And for good reason—few pastries can give such extended pleasure. How delicious when, under its fine butter coating, the many-layered pastry (milles-feuilles), still warm, encounters the silky, fondant marzipan on the palate—a perfect combination of the puff pastry and grainy, ground almonds. No one knows exactly when this so-called "Parisian" cake was born. The invention of marzipan dates from the sixteenth century. The history should be treated with caution, but it is sufficiently delicious to have been inscribed indelibly in the memory of gourmets. In 1588, an Italian marquis named Murio Frangipani marketed gloves perfumed with almonds. There is nothing surprising about this because perfumers were originally glove makers. The essence of Italian frangipani, about which Catherine de' Medici was passionate, inspired the pastry cooks of the French court to create frangipane cream, an equal mixture of pastry cream and almond cream. King's Cake, whether flavored with fruits or almond cream, is a dessert with a history. Certain Epiphanies have been retained in the annals. For instance, on January 6, 1650, at the Louvre Palace, Anne of Austria and her son Louis XIV indulged in the cake, leaving on the table, as was the custom, a share for the poor, in this case the very part that contained the bean. The next morning, there was "no other king than that of the bean," the king having fled Paris to escape the uprising known as the Fronde. Is it because of this unpleasant memory that the tradition of naming the person who finds the bean as "king" for the day was outlawed during Louis XIV's reign, the custom being officially judged to be too pagan? In 1770, Diderot recounted this anecdote in his Encyclopédie, summarizing it with this amusing aphorism: "Signe Denis, sans terre ni château. Roi par the grâce du gâteau." (The sign of Denis [patron saint of Paris] without land or château, King by the grace of a gâteau.) The joy of eating the crown is all part of the pleasure of enjoying King's Cake once a year, and more....

Shrimp have glutamic acid, the main taste component of umami. And at only 119 calories per 4-ounce serving, the little fellas are quite the low-cal catch.

Serve with warm tortillas or rice to make a heartier meal.

Jasper Soffer, bartender at the Mulberry Project in New York City, created this simple-to-prepare seasonal cocktail for our story Spring Cocktails Perfect for Brunch. The rhubarb simple syrup, Soffer explains, is simultaneously sweet and tart, not unlike a rhubarb-apple crumble or a strawberry-rhubarb pie. If you want to make this drink outside rhubarb's short early-spring season, frozen fruit makes a great substitute.

Caramelized pineapple with a honey-orange glaze makes for a quick and elegant weeknight dessert.

Martin Cate, owner of the rum-centric Smuggler's Cove bar in San Francisco, shares his spiced rum recipe below. The secret: Start with good rum, and don't overinfuse the mixture.

This coconut curry adds a tangy note to a South Indian menu. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

This Mexican dish of tortilla chips smothered in chile sauce is just as good for dinner as it is for breakfast. If you don't want to make your own chips, substitute your favorite brand, but don't skimp on the garnishes; they add color and freshness.

Stephen Cole, bartender at The Barrelhouse Flat in Chicago, created this dressed-up take on the classic gin and tonic for our story Spring Cocktails Perfect for Brunch. While you should feel free to use your favorite gin, for this absinthe-laced cocktail, Cole suggests trying Hayman's Old Tom Gin, which is slightly sweeter than more traditional English dry gin.

Sean Traynor, bartender at The Windsor in Phoenix, Arizona, created this crisp, beautifully hued cocktail for our story Spring Cocktails Perfect for Brunch. Sparkling wine is often used to top off a drink, but in this case Traynor mixes it with the rest of the ingredients in the cocktail shaker. The reason? He's using it more for its acidity and flavor than effervescence. For pure peach flavor, Traynor insists on a true peach-based liqueur, so put away the peach Schnapps; he recommends Sathenay Crème de Pêche de Vigne Liqueur, Rothman & Winter Orchard Peach Liqueur, or Massenez Crème de Pêche.

Sure, you can mix it with cola, but we prefer our spiced rum in a proper cocktail like the Kona Swizzle, a floral riff on the classic Queen's Park Swizzle, Created by New York city bartender Brian Miller.

Bake in large decorative paper molds (found at kitchen supply stores), or simply line standard muffin tins with your favorite liners.