Stand Mixer

Spices may not be seasonal, but the spices in these cookies—cinnamon, cloves, and allspice—always put me in mind of fall because they are important ingredients in so many recipes of that season. Usually, the scent of sugar rules the air at the Carlo's Bake Shop factory, but in the fall, the factory smells of those spices, which always gets me excited for the holidays.

All the kids in our family used to get together and make these cookies at our house every year; now we do it at the Carlo's factory.

These intensely flavored dark chocolate brownies are spread with a layer of caramel then topped with bittersweet chocolate ganache.

If you've never encountered struffoli before, they are best described—visually at any rate—as the croquembouche of southern Italy: small dough balls, and I mean really small, the size of marbles, that are deep-fried and then rolled in honey before being assembled into a cone—as in the French piled-up profiteroles model—or a bulging wreath. Since I was taught the recipe by a pair of Calabrian sisters, I make mine as their Mamma makes hers; and this takes the wreath form. I'll be honest: you don't make these because you're seeking some exquisite taste sensation; struffoli are about custom, celebration, and sweetness. This, in effect, is the festive centerpiece of Christmas in the south of Italy. You get a very real sense of this if you make the struffoli not alone, but in company, with other hands to roll out the dough with you. Children love doing this, by the way, and their little hands are much better suited for rolling the small marble-sized dough balls you need. Obviously, children are best kept away from the deep-frying part of the operation. As for the decoration, I've seen not only the regular cake-decorating sprinkles used but also candied fruit, glacé cherries, almond dragées, and cinnamon-preserved pumpkin pieces. It's the former, solely, for me. And although I've seen only the multicolored ones in Italy, I go for the festive and flag-resonant Christmas sprinkles in red, white, and green. The struffoli would look more beautiful, perhaps, left burnished but otherwise unadorned, although gaudiness not elegant restraint—I'm firmly told—is in order here; I have tried to maintain some balance between the two.

Here's another dessert that was inspired by a wine-tasting dinner. It's often hard to come up with a dessert that pairs well with wine, but this savory-sweet dessert does. At its center is a Seckel pear, a small, reddish pear with a slightly spicy flavor. It has a firm flesh that makes it perfect for poaching. In this dessert I poach the pears in pomegranate juice with some ground black pepper. A chunk of Cabrales cheese, a strong blue cheese from northern Spain, is sandwiched between the top and bottom halves of the pear, and a Szechuan Ice Cream is served with it, sitting on a diamond of baked almond cream.

Daniel Boulud always had a preference for classic French desserts, so I developed this recipe for the lunch menu when I was pastry chef at Daniel. The dessert itself is very simple: We bake an undocked, thick round of puff pastry, letting it puff up high, and serve it hot, filled with Orange-Scented Pastry Cream and topped with a buttery caramel sauce and a few Candied Pecans. The puff pastry rounds should be baked à la minute, never ahead of time, though the dough can be rolled out and cut in advance, and stored, covered, in the refrigerator for up to a day. Sometimes the best desserts are the simplest.

Editor's note: Use this puff pastry to make Francois Payard's Soufflé of Puff Pastry with Orange-Scented Pastry Cream, Candied Pecans, and Caramel Butter Sauce . This rich, buttery pastry is used to create a variety of pastries and baked goods. I use it in many of my plated desserts, such as for napoleon layers and as the base for multicomponent desserts. This particular recipe is my favorite, because it makes an ultra-flaky, very airy pastry in which you can actually see the layers. I give the dough a total of five turns—two double turns and one single turn—to achieve this lightness.

I get no greater satisfaction than knowing we've snuck some sweet potatoes and red cabbage onto the dessert menu at Vedge. This dish was originally inspired by a trip to the Czech Republic, where I enjoyed plum dumplings dusted in powdered sugar and served with vegan sour cream. Here, we fill our turnovers with candied whipped sweet potato, and the kraut garnish offers a nice bright note from the sweet Riesling. If you want to go all out, try serving them with a dollop of vegan sour cream whipped with a little powdered sugar and orange zest.

A splash of brandy—plus orange zest and juice—in the doughnut batter complements the fruity jam filling perfectly. Try it with any preserve, pastry cream, or sugar coating you like.

Why not make cinnamon buns into a coffee cake that can be pulled apart when ready to serve. It's a dessert that is just meant to make it to the breakfast table the next morning (if there's any left).

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.

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)!

Snack on these to satisfy your craving for sweet, salty, and crunchy. Unlike the pale, sugar-laden honey-wheat pretzel twists sold in bags at the grocery store, these are subtly sweetened with fragrant honey, deeply browned, and snappy. They are dipped in a plain water bath, rather than lye, because the honey provides sufficient flavor and helps with the browning.

This is a winning-contestant recipe from Season Four of Fox's MasterChef.

They look unassuming, but these little jars of unctuous spiced meat served with crunchy toast and rich shallots are a decadent and satisfying treat.

The olive oil gives this cake extra depth and intensity. The complex flavors mature over time, so consider wrapping the cake in plastic wrap and refrigerating it, ready to ice and serve, for up to 3 days. Somewhat less festive (and less calorie laden), this is still very satisfying without the maple icing. Just dust lightly with confectioners' sugar.