Everybody likes bacon on top of meatloaf, right? Well, why not put it inside instead of on top? And what goes on ground beef but mustard and ketchup - so the traditional meatloaf glaze gets a tangy kick. The cheese part can probably be completely customized to your taste; what was in my fridge was feta and mozzarella instead of cheddar, so that's what I used and it came out fine. (I actually suspect the recipe might call for more cheddar than I'd enjoy, but the point is, I'd be willing to try it and find out.)

I'm not crazy about these granola bars. They're OK, but not great. I find they have a little too much honey sweetness and not enough grain and nut flavor. They also don't hold together as well as I'd like, though that may be because I keep forgetting that my square pan is 8x8 not 9x9, so they're a little extra thick.

Red beans and rice isn't my go-to dish when I think of Creole cuisine; that spot is held by the more complex dishes like jambalaya and gumbo. Yet every time I make this dish, I wonder why it isn't higher on my list. The brilliant mix of savory beans and gravy over sweet white rice always feeds my soul as well as the more opulent dishes do. Alton Brown's recipe brings the flavor in at just about 2 hours of cooking, assuming you've already put in the 3 days necessary to pickle the pork. (And if you haven't... well you should, but I won't tell anybody if you substitute a nice link of andouille or the like.)

I associate brines with salt, but this one is mostly sugar. That makes the turkey skin come out with a pronounced sweetness, almost similar to a sugar-cured bacon. It also gives an interesting flavor to the meat, though I miss a little more saltiness on the meat. It did come out nice and moist, though.

OK, I took some liberties. Kind of a lot of liberties. It's still a good cake. I'm really impressed with the way the graham crackers don't go soggy (even after 2 days) but do soften into a cake-like texture.

I didn't have strawberry jam, so I used a mix of blueberry and a blackberry/raspberry preserve. These are delicious, but they were pretty substantial homemade preserves and I wonder if assembly would have been easier with a few teaspoons of water mixed in to loosen it up. Then again, free water might have made the cream collapse so maybe not.

I also didn't use the cream cheese icing, opting instead for whipped cream stabilized with gelatin, with a little vanilla and almond extract. (The process is described in the chocolate mocha refrigerator cake recipe from the same episode.) This worked just fine; I suspect it helps that the preserves were a little tart.

Would definitely make again!

Turns out I do like quinoa, if you cook it in enough half-and-half and cheese. Alton's right; this is squarely in comfort food territory.

This serves up a lot like the old classic broccoli and rice casserole, but I find the flavor and consistency closer to a terrific dish of cheese grits. I left out the mushrooms, because my kid wouldn't eat them, but I should have added some extra broccoli to balance the casserole a little better. I found a little tiny bit of hot sauce at the table brightened it up a bit.

It makes a ton and is perfectly suited for a main course, but it would be quite at home as a side dish as well. It might make my Thanksgiving table.

I think of this as a fun recipe for mini-meatloafs - "sausage" really gives me different ideas. Easy and fun to make, and an ideal size if you like "meatloaf" sandwiches later in the week.

What a keeper of a recipe! It had never occurred to me that the rich, spicy taste of bulgogi came from a mere 30-minute marinade. My first attempt came out too salty; notice that "sesame salt" is made of far more sesame seeds than salt. I might also play with the heat a little; a sweet-spicy sauce like Sriracha might mellow the spice a little more to my son's liking. Definitely would benefit from an acidic side dish.

Pretty solid recipe. I might like a little more advice on good seasonings to add to the sausage. The technique of flouring the hard-boiled eggs to make the sausage stick to them better is genius and I don't know why every recipe doesn't include this trick. We also found that, if you don't want to deal with deep-frying, it's perfectly acceptable to use enough oil to get about halfway up the Scotch egg, and flip them at about 4-5 minutes.

My wife called this a "very German" cake - meaning it's dense, with a tight, slightly dry crumb. Cinnamon is the dominant flavor, with chocolate and raisin notes behind it. (I'll probably back off the cinnamon and boost the cocoa next time.) Very pleasant with a little iced cream or whipped cream, and perhaps a cup of coffee.

This recipe is hampered by the lack of any timing on the sauce. It took me more than 20 minutes of simmering for the flavors to come together. I also had trouble with the mustard wanting to fall out of solution. That said, it's a very pleasant cream sauce, with the aromatic sage able to stand up to the mustard flavors. I feel like it needs tweaking, but also that it will be worth it.

Not crazy about this one. I found that the mint took over and the parsley got lost. I also found the carrots dominated the cabbage. But it's a fast hot salad with ingredients I'm often looking to use up, so I might try it again.

Pleasant; more of a technique than a recipe. Needs salt and possibly other seasonings. Generally a hit in my house; we had some debate over whether it needed a sauce or whether that would make the coating go gummy.

The recipe as written looks like a cool way to whip up just enough cranberry sauce to coat a couple of pork chops. However, my wife believes in making always making enough cranberry sauce to put some up, so I cheated and used sauce we already had on hand instead of fresh cranberries and sugar. The flavor combination is certainly a winner; I really liked the way the cranberries developed a different depth of flavor while baking with the pork. Practically, I'm more likely to make panfried pork chops with a quick heated cranberry sauce in future, but this is a really cool inspiration. (And I suppose it's possible we might run out of cranberry sauce.)

On the one hand, you've pretty much got the whole recipe right there in the title. It's not like it's groundbreaking cuisine here.

...except when's the last time YOU had sauteed apples on a sausage? Because I don't think I ever have.

(The serving suggestion says to add a scrambled egg for a hearty meal. I might also suggest a glass of red wine and a Lipitor... but again, you're not using a cookbook from 1978 if a strict diet is really your top priority.)

Tomato paste and brandy are added to a bechamel, and then cooked lobster is warmed in it before the mixture is spread on toast, topped with cheese, and broiled. It's a refined sandwich. The grape flavor from the brandy plays nicely with the lobster and tomato, although we did get a couple of boozy bites. It seems like something you might find at a semi-formal New England lunch.

So why only 3 stars? Quality vs. effort. It's not that this is a difficult dish - it's just a bit fiddly, compared with the simplicity of a buttery lobster roll. If I have to do the work of cracking a lobster shell, I probably will pick the easier recipe and enjoy the purity of fewer ingredients instead of the nuances of a bigger sauce.

I didn't actually make the migas as directed, but the grits cakes which stand in for the tortilla chips are a big winner. (In a nutshell, cooked grits are spread out, cooled, cut, and baked.) I've added the grits strips, crumbled a bit, to scrambled eggs with some hot sauce for an ersatz migas, and it's a nice breakfast, adding texture and some richness to the eggs. Even better, though, was sausage gravy served over them like a biscuit.

I made them on a cookie sheet, instead of in a baking pan as directed, so I think were significantly thinner than expected. That said, I like this thickness.

A little lackluster. Using some corn grits to give crunch to baked wings was a neat idea, and I liked the little bit of corn taste, but my family didn't care for it. I also got a slight raw flour taste; it could have used a little more time in the oven (or a hotter temperature?) but the chicken was about perfectly done.

I didn't make the sauce, which was a mistake. The cumin and pepper don't come through nearly as well as I hoped.

I know 2 or 3 people, plus myself, who've tried this recipe and, as near as we can tell, it's just broken. The dough comes out wet, almost soupy, and makes something like a biscuit-flavored muffin top. It doesn't hold its shape and it spreads out tremendously in the oven, gaining almost no height. It's a pleasant enough bread (especially if you're partial to crumbly biscuits instead of flaky), but it sure ain't no biscuit. At the end of the day, turn to page 138 and make the biscuits according to that beautiful bulletproof White Lily recipe (which is the same as the one on the sack of flour).

There is one compliment which I prize higher than any other for my cooking: "as good as my grandma's."

This recipe got me that compliment. And from a Texan who doesn't normally eat upside-down cake because his grandma's spoiled him for all others.

The cake is both airy and chewy, the sugar syrup is rich but not sickly, the fruit holds up. If you've never had a fresh upside-down cake (like me, who'd mostly had it in cafeterias or from supermarkets), it's a revelation.

Warning: step 1 is, essentially, "make caramel." This can become a black and useless mess easily, and there's nothing you can do but throw it out, wipe out the pan, and start over. But that's part of learning, and it's about timing, not anything hard to do - you just have to watch the sugar and move quickly when it looks like time.

I am not a fan of whole wheat pancakes. Light, fluffy, regular white-flour pancakes are a special weekend treat, reminding me of my parents' love and the pleasures of youth. Whole wheat pancakes, dense and strangely nutty, are enforced moderation; a reminder of encroaching middle age and the fact that my cholesterol number is higher than my area code.

So now that you know where the bar is, these are actually pretty good for whole wheat pancakes. The flour I used does not have too much bran in it, so while not exactly "light and fluffy", the cakes were not dense. The nuttiness was on a par with whole wheat sandwich bread, which I eat all the time.

This recipe is exactly the same as Alton's regular buttermilk pancake recipe 2 pages earlier, so it seems that the issue is finding a flour I like. I still can't see myself choosing whole-wheat pancakes over white flour pancakes, but given I've still got over a pound of this flour to use, I probably will make these pancakes again.

A delicious dish of very slow-fried chicken (almost like a confit) with garlic, shallots, and herbs. One of those great recipes where a small amount of effort looks like a big production number. Save the oil for reuse, now that it's infused with chicken, garlic, and herbs!

This is an excellent recipe for eggplant parmesan. The panko crust cooks up light and crunchy, a nice contrast to the meatiness of the eggplant slices. The sauce and cheese work nicely with the crust, but they don't overwhelm it in either taste or texture. It's also a perfect balance of work and time to quality.

A lot hangs on the quality of your tomato sauce here. Get the absolute best you can. I'll also suggest using a mandolin to get consistent eggplant slices, and the 12-inch skillet was definitely the way to go.

I do want to ding this recipe on one issue, though. Perhaps Alton thinks a "medium" eggplant is a lot smaller than I do, but I needed double the amount of panko and parmesan. (Which, of course, I only discovered when I ran out of breading and had half an eggplant left.) I also needed extra sauce for plating; the one cup called for only lasted me through assembly.

Alton starts off by saying there are 300 ways to make a meatloaf, and this is just one of them. Well, it's a pretty nice base, heavy on the Worcestershire and ketchup. I added strips of bacon on top because my wife believes that's what makes it a meatloaf. (Probably just a typo that they were left out of the book.)

I baked it free-form, instead of in a loaf pan. I find this makes the loaf a lot less greasy, but I have to remember to cut 10-15 minutes off the cooking time. (My wife also suggests... wait for it... more bacon, as a heat shield. Reader, I married her.)

Very nice take on applesauce. I made it to use up some overripe pears, and it worked just fine. It's also amazingly easy, and using the microwave means no worrying about whether the fruit's going to scorch.

Basically a soda bread griddle cake. I think my technique needs work (and maybe the recipe needs more specificity) - I made my first batch way too thick and ended up having to cut them in half to get the insides done. But it's a fun way to get something related to a biscuit in a fraction of the time.

I'm rating this because it says it's inspired by the version in the Moosewood Cookbook (but the Moosewood version is the one I made). The recipes are nearly identical, with the exception that Brody uses 2 tablespoons less butter for sauteeing the onions and apples. (I suspect that there's so much cheese in this recipe that it can lose the extra butter easily.)

Brody also does a major service by converting Katzen's more homey amounts (juice of one lemon, 2 apples chopped) into measurable ones (1/4 c. lemon juice, 3 cups chopped apples). I had some questions about the consistency of my filling (it seemed watery), and I think I wouldn't have if I followed these amounts.

My other recipe for this sauce uses more butter, but this lighter version trades richness for a very pleasant acidity.

A very good ice cream, rich and lush. The cream and buttermilk combo gives a very interesting flavor. I'll agree with the comment that a little more strawberry flavor would be welcome. This is an ice cream which really benefits from a minute or two of thawing - the creamy texture becomes something you'd expect at an ice cream shop, and the strawberry wakes up just a bit.

I'd call this a 4 for the ice cream - nice banana flavor. If you've got some leftover fruit purees from other recipes, you can use them well here - strawberry banana is good.

It's a two for the chocolate freckles though, with an asterisk that it's probably my equipment's fault. The directions say to drizzle the chocolate bombe shell "through the opening in the top", but my old bought-at-the-hardware-store ice cream maker doesn't _have_ an opening at the top. Now, what I should have done was laid down ribbons of chocolate while packing the ice cream. What I did do was take off the top and spin the beater by hand while my son poured in the chocolate. And what I got were a few "freckles" of chocolate, some big chunks that were more like "moles," and 3 or 4 enormous "dude, get that checked by a doctor" clumps. I eventually fished these out and smashed them with the points of a fork to get them down to a size that will fit on an ice cream spoon.

Having done that, it's very tasty. I used dark chocolate and it's a pretty close recipe to Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey. So I'll probably make it again, but I'll replace my machine or deal with the chocolate differently next time.

My family and I love fried beet chips, but there's a tiny window of opportunity between soggy, not quite done chips and burned ones. (Frying red chips in a black cast iron pan doesn't help know where that window is.)

So we greeted this recipe with a little excitement. Unfortunately, I cut the beets on my mandolin at 3 mm, which turned out to be too wide. They were still tasty, but they were frankly chewy. Next time I'll go down to 1.5 mm (or maybe even to .75, which is way too thin for the deep fryer).

Use a liberal hand when brushing on the olive oil.

(Edit: Yup, 1.5 mm was better, and it's what most recipes call for, but it needs a little more time to get crispy. I'll do .75 mm next time.)

(Edit to the edit: .75 works really well, but they're done in under 15 minutes.)

I'm not quite getting the point of this dish. It's leeks in a cheese sauce - a fair side dish, but not terribly interesting.

Seems like a promising recipe, even if I had something of a cooking fail. (I forgot to mix the brown sugar and spices with the lemon juice before pouring the whole mess over the sweet potatoes - so mine were kind of sweeter on one side and lemony on the other. Weird, but good enough.)

Sweet potatoes in my world are usually either baked in their jackets, or mashed, so this recipe of baked slices minimally spiced was a revelation. They maintain some structure and texture, and a good amount of clear sweet potato flavor.

They did hold pretty well overnight - I made these the night before Thanksgiving and served them on the day.

I only made the mushroom chutney; the chops look like a pretty basic preparation so there seems like no reason to doubt it. I really enjoyed the chutney, although I find the prunes are really the dominant flavor, with the earthiness of the mushrooms a distant second. It would be an excellent compliment for pork or chicken (or maybe even fish) - unfortunately, I served it with beef, and the flavors seemed to fight. I'm wondering if cutting the prunes way, way back would let the mushrooms and beef pairing work better.

One warning - the recipe says to use a 12" skillet, and I tried this in my 10", and just barely did everything fit. I also needed to cook it a lot longer than the recipe says to get the sauce to reduce. Seriously, use a 12" or bigger pan.

I don't think my attempt went quite right, but I'm giving this a good rating for promise. I initially thought the sauce was a little too minty - 8 springs of mint, at least from my garden, is powerful. But it's a pleasantly delicate sauce, not heavy like it looks.

I've found that steelhead trout can almost always stand in for salmon, so that's what I used for this recipe. It didn't quite work, and I don't know if that's because of the fish itself, or because I didn't char the skin hard enough, or what. It was good - what's wrong with a recipe that boils down to "salt, pepper, broil" - but not great. But I'm going to cheat my rating up because maybe that's cook's error.

As a rule, I trust people when they name a dish after a family member. They way I see it, any honorable person will bring their A game when they play under Gran's flag... and for that matter, I want to know if you're not honorable.

I'm here to report that the Lee Brothers are proper Southern boys who wouldn't let you think bad of dear old Gran. This is a fabulous marinade which I see becoming part of my regular rotation. The bourbon-soy combination makes for a smoky taste which you'd swear came from a barbecue, and then it reduces to a delicious pan sauce. It's clearly superior to any London broil I've had.

About halfway through dinner, I realized I was hungry for a crusty sandwich roll. I'm thinking this would be a fantastic sandwich au jus (perhaps with lettuce, caramelized onions, and maybe a bit of brie or mayo).

Light and refreshing, and easy to boot. The milk and mint flavor suggests a faint drizzle of chocolate sauce. Ours were silky almost to the point of lacking structural integrity, and took more than the stated 1.5 hours to set up; I suspect the answer in both cases is that our ramekins are deeper than they are wide. A different shape might set up firmer (or I might use the whole packet of gelatin powder next time).

I enjoyed the flavor of these fritters. The sweet potato base works nicely with the vegetal okra and pungent onion. The technique was a trick though... the process was easy enough but I'm still not sure if I was trying to get more of a potato pancake thickness or a hush puppy. (Presumably the answer is "in between.") Obviously, this affects the texture and cooking time. I probably will try again to see if I can get a more consistent product.

The dipping sauce is just a mix of buttermilk, sour cream, and a microplaned clove of garlic. I don't know why this isn't on the table every night.

One kitchen note - you're going to purge liquid out of the sweet potato and chop okra. You will get wet on this ride.

Take a dry sparkling wine (like a cava or a prosecco), and add a plum-infused brandy syrup. Crisp and refreshing, this is a drink which could play many parts - a summer cocktail, an aperitif or a dessert drink. The brandy, plum, and cinnamon, though, evoke Christmas. This is a drink that whispers "God bless us, every one." And it certainly helps the brandied plum recipe from the dessert section pay off.

I slapped a partial recipe together in a little bit of time before dinner, and it was pretty pleasant. Once the red wine actually penetrates the carrots and turnips, the sweet notes of all three become very interesting and complex. I'll definitely return to this following the recipe more closely (and allowing a more proper amount of time to marinade).

A fantastic dish for spring or early summer, this is a dish that's hearty without being heavy. It's a dish of little bites... a bit of salt from the pancetta, cubes of sweet potato which retain their shape, and a hit of freshness from the vinegary capers.

The garlic puree/marinade has some good flavors; we actually let it sit overnight and that seems like a good choice. I was pleasantly surprised that the temperature and cook time did not dry out the pork or burn the greens. Unfortunately, the water that's keeping things moist also seemed to keep them from browning.

Overall, I felt like this whole recipe needed a little more oomph. There's not nearly enough heat or acidity to the greens. The garlicky pork is nice, but I felt it wanted some brown sugar and maybe some cayenne. (Or maybe just a whole mess more garlic and oregano and a little more orange juice.)

I'd tinker with it some more; the pork did come out nicely. But it was underwhelming.

A pleasant approach to tomato-cream sauce. It comes together easily and retains just enough texture to be interesting. I find it missing a little brightness, but as creamed tomato sauces go, it's a great payoff for the light effort.

I was familiar with the technique of browning pork chops and then reducing heat and braising. But I hadn't thought to use a low oven for that step, and it had never occurred to me to let the liquid be butter. A good, simple treatment, rich but not a lot of work.

I skipped the sauce, but it turns out cloves of garlic braised in butter are also a good thing...

You know what's wrong with American hamburgers? Not enough butter. Well, Saint Julia knows the solution to that!

This opulent burger was a big hit in our house. I think of thyme as more of a friend to beans and pork than beef, but it lends these burgers an interesting depth of flavor. And oh, the butter... onions sauteed in butter, butter added to the meat, fry the burgers in butter. (In retrospect, I wish I'd read Julia's notes closer and gotten 90% lean ground beef instead of 80%.) The wine reduction (finished with butter, natch) made an interesting condiment - not exactly like steak sauce, but more like that than anything else I can think of.

Serve on a hearty bun with a lettuce leaf and pickles.

A lovely easy technique for turnips. "Braised in butter" isn't actually as over-the-top as I thought - most of the braising liquid is stock or water. (And I probably used too much of it - I suspect "barely covered" actually means "not quite covered".) Definitely an improvement over just boiling them.

Good spongecake recipe, lightly flavored with orange. The outer edge of our cake came out just a hair tough, which might be related to the fact that we used a 10-inch pan instead of the 9-inch called for. A big hit with some whipped cream and vanilla ice cream.

Very successful in my house. A lighter treatment than a cheesy "au gratin" but the butter and tomatoes add some richness. It would be good with a piece of fish.

It is a delicious baked custard, but I found my cherries lacking in flavor. I wish I'd taken the step to soak them in a liqueur (like the next recipe in the book states). Or maybe just a little cinnamon or nutmeg over the top.

Would definitely make again, but I'll check the intensity of the cherries' flavor and make adjustments next time.

Possibly the recipe which taught me that not all pasta is served in red sauce, and definitely the recipe which taught me that vegetarian entrees can make a whole meal. Spaghetti served with cauliflower, cheese, tomatoes, and spice - a delicious, hearty, satisfying dish.