Gruyère

When you're an American in Paris, there's nothing more flattering than to have French people ask you to share your recipe for one of their national treasures. Of all the things I make for my French friends, this is the one that gets the most requests. The easiest way to describe gougères is to call them cheese puffs. Their dough, pâte àchoux, is the same one you'd use for sweet cream puffs or profiteroles, but when the pâte àchoux is destined to become gougères, you fold in a fair amount of grated cheese. In France, I use Gruyère, Comté, Emmenthal, or, just for fun and a spot of color, Mimolette, Gouda's French cousin; in America, I reach for extra-sharp cheddar, and sometimes I add a little smoked cheese to the mix. Gougères are made everywhere in France (and can be bought frozen in many stores), but their home is Burgundy, where they are the first thing you get when you sit down in almost any restaurant. In Burgundy, gougères are often served with the local aperitif, kir; chez Greenspan, where I serve them no matter what I'm pouring as a welcoming glass, my favorite sip-along is Champagne. I love the way Champagne's toastiness and gougères' egginess play together. Although you must spoon out the puffs as soon as the dough is made, the little puffs can be frozen and then baked straight from the freezer, putting them in the realm of the doable even on the spur of the moment.

These Provençal eggs, laced with softened onions and chard, never fail to elicit sighs of appreciation. I'm forever grateful to Nathalie Waag for making trouchia when she came to visit—it has since become a favorite. The trick to its success is to cook everything slowly so that the flavors really deepen and sweeten.

This old "gourmet" standby can indeed be spectacular, or it can be exceedingly dull. Everything rests on the quality of the ingredients. With good cheese, first-rate ham, homemade crumbs, and a little care in the cooking, you can't go wrong. If, however, you use indifferent, packaged boiled ham and ordinary cheese, and add insult to injury by overcooking them, you'll kill yourself wondering what all the fuss is about.

Savor these morsels with benefits: Each has nearly 20 percent of your calcium RDA.

This combination of several different varieties of roasted onions, crunchy croutons, and melted cheese is great with the pork.

Treviso is a red, spear-shaped variety of radicchio. Combining it with prewashed baby greens makes a bowlful of holiday colors. Keep the cheese cold until grating so that it forms firm strips.

This gratin, which is delicious with roast chicken or pork chops, employs a favorite technique: cooking vegetables covered with a round of parchment paper placed directly on them, rather than with a lid. This low-tech method allows just enough steam to escape while keeping the vegetables—leeks, in this case—perfectly moist. A bit of lemon zest helps balance the gratin's richness.

Full of garden vegetables and pasta, this soup relies on a bright basil-and-parsley-based sauce (the pistou) for a last-minute explosion of herbal flavor.

A fluffy soufflé, redolent with garlic, the darling of Provence, will suit the occasion, not to mention the meat itself. Since it's baked in a wide gratin, there's enough irresistible crust and ethereal interior for everyone to get a nice serving of both.

A simple but sophisticated starter: Puff pastry squares are topped with a bright spring mixture of asparagus spears, fresh shiitakes, and crème fraîche.

No-boil lasagne noodles are a lifesaver: They can turn what's often perceived as a party dish into a practical weeknight supper—especially since you have the luxury of simply reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out the main ingredient: half a roast chicken. Leftover lasagne noodles are handy for crumbling into soup.

Whenever the weather begins to get cold, I begin to fantasize about that perfect bowl of French onion soup. The top is golden and crisp, the cheese has blistered and fallen and is completely melted, and gooey bits are stuck to the outer sides of the bowl. When I cut through the cheese, the bread is slightly crisp, but mushy at the same time. I fill my spoon with the rich, full broth crammed with soft, sweet, smoky onions. Here's my fantasy in a bowl.

Nutty Gruyère is de rigueur for a classic Swiss fondue. Hard apple cider, cider vinegar, and Calvados (apple brandy) give this great version added interest. Kielbasa, apples, and bread are served alongside for dipping— but potatoes are also good. Just steam some new potatoes or fingerlings until cooked but not falling apart, and cut them into wedges. Also, any sausage—not just kielbasa—will do. We like andouille or chicken and apple sausage, too.

Increasingly available in supermarkets, the firm wheat protein known as seitan is mild in flavor and versatile in the kitchen. In this casserole, it takes on the earthy flavor of mushrooms, adding heartiness and heft.

Here, we pepped up the fail-safe brunch combination of bacon, egg, and cheese by adding handfuls of flavorful sautéed arugula. They'll be jumping out of bed for this one.

Egg dishes always make a great centerpiece, especially when they’re this easy. As it bakes, Gruyère melts into the nutmeg-scented egg and milk mixture, which takes on a light, quiche-like creaminess.

As the pumpkin roasts, its skin becomes gorgeously burnished, while inside, slices of baguette, Gruyère, and Emmental coalesce into a rich, velvety concoction that is utterly fabulous served with a scoop of tender pumpkin flesh.

This unorthodox panino—you work in reverse, griddling the bread first, then layering it with prosciutto, Fontina, and arugula before baking—results in a warm, gooey flatbread with a crunchy crust.

Aged Gruyère gives extra-nutty flavor.