253 American recipes. Page 10 of 11. Compare ingredients and cooking times. Peanut Butter Cookies, Scrapple, Pecan Pie.
Peanut butter does structural work in this dough, not just flavoring, and the formula is built around a conventional creamy jar whose oil stays mixed in. The fork crosshatch is more than decoration: pressing each portion to an even thickness lets the center bake at the same pace as the edge.
Cooked pork and cornmeal are simmered into a thick mush, chilled in a shallow tin, then sliced and browned; unlike meatloaf, which sets from raw meat and egg in the oven, scrapple holds together because cooked grain firms as it cools. That is why the hot mixture falls apart if sliced and fried right away, and the 4-hour chill cannot be cut short.
The pecans go into the bottom of the crust, but as the pie bakes they float up and pave the top. Underneath is a dense, sticky layer of brown sugar and syrup, very sweet, and although the middle still wobbles a little when it comes out, it firms up enough to slice as it cools.
Grits simmered in equal parts water and milk turn into a soft, porridge-like base once cheddar and butter melt in. The shrimp cook in the fat left from crisping bacon, picking up a smoky, salty edge along with the paprika, and the bacon goes back on top. Grits catch on the pot easily, so scraping the bottom and sides throughout keeps them smooth and free of lumps.
Brown sugar and pineapple rings line the bottom of the pan under the batter, and the cake is turned out after baking so the fruit layer ends up on top. The rings sit close together, because wide gaps let the melting butter and sugar pool in one spot.
Potatoes, corn, smoked sausage, and shrimp all cook in one pot of salted, paprika-seasoned water, added in order of how long each needs. The potatoes get a head start, the corn and sausage follow, and the shrimp go in only for the last couple of minutes. Drained and tossed with melted butter and lemon juice, everything is tipped out onto a large platter or table for a crowd to eat with their hands.
No yeast and no baking powder go into this thin egg batter; it puffs in a 230°C oven on steam alone and comes out hollow. Instead of one skillet, as with a Dutch baby, it is divided among 12 muffin cups, giving each popover its own crisp wall and domed top. The oven door stays shut for the first 20 minutes.
Chilled shrimp go to the table with a cocktail sauce of ketchup sharpened by horseradish and Worcestershire, served on the side for dipping. The ketchup brings sweetness, the horseradish a nose-tingling heat, and the Worcestershire a salty, savory taste that stands up to the mild shrimp. A quick poach in salted water with lemon, followed straight away by an ice bath, keeps the shrimp springy rather than rubbery. The moment they turn pink and curl slightly is the moment to lift them out; extra time in the hot water toughens them. Cooled shrimp need a thorough drain, since leftover water thins the sauce on the plate. Both components can be made ahead and held cold, which makes this an easy starter to plate at the last minute.
The filling is mashed potato and onion stirred often for about 45 minutes until deep golden. Wrapped around it is a thin dough of oil, egg and a little vinegar, not laminated puff pastry. The filling stays hot long after the crust feels cool, so the knishes get 10 minutes before serving.
Shrimp creole leans on tomato rather than roux: whole tomatoes are crushed and reduced with onion, celery, and bell pepper until the sauce thickens on its own. That trio of vegetables, the classic Louisiana base, gives the sauce its savory depth, with paprika adding color. The shrimp go in at the end and come out as soon as they turn pink, then everything is spooned generously over warm rice.
The filling is pumpkin puree, cream and eggs with brown sugar, cinnamon and nutmeg. After baking, the pie cools completely at room temperature, chills overnight and is sliced cold. Bake it the day before you plan to serve it.
A roux of butter and flour, stirred only to light brown, gives etouffee both its nutty aroma and its body. Taken darker, it turns bitter and overpowers the delicate shrimp. Onion, celery, and bell pepper go straight into the hot roux, and their moisture loosens it before chicken stock is whisked in a little at a time. Compared with shrimp creole, the sauce is brown and buttery rather than tomato-red. The shrimp cook in it only briefly at the end and are served over rice.
With only 20 g of cocoa, the cake does not taste of chocolate; the red comes from 2 tablespoons of food coloring. The layers are made with oil and buttermilk, and baking soda fizzing with vinegar is folded in at the very end. Cold cream cheese, whipped with butter and powdered sugar, fills and covers the layers.
Fried shrimp tucked into a split, lightly warmed baguette, with a quick remoulade of chopped pickles and mayonnaise to cut the richness, make up this New Orleans sandwich. The sandwich is built and eaten right away, since covering fried shrimp traps steam and softens the crust.
Thin-skinned Meyer lemons are sliced whole, peel and all, no thicker than 1 mm, then left in sugar for 24 hours before being mixed with eggs and baked between two crusts. The long soak melts the sugar and softens the rind, yet the filling keeps a marmalade-like bitterness and bits of peel to chew. If you slice with a mandoline, use the safety guard down to the last piece.
Sirloin gets a dark crust over high heat first, then a short basting with butter, crushed garlic, and rosemary once the heat drops to medium. Splitting the two stages keeps the butter and garlic from scorching in a pan hot enough to sear. Drying the sides as well as the faces helps the crust form evenly all around. Slice against the grain and finish with a squeeze of lemon.
The faint tang in a snickerdoodle comes from cream of tartar, which goes in alongside the baking soda. Each ball of dough is rolled all over in cinnamon sugar before baking, so cinnamon is the first thing you taste.
Ground beef simmered with ketchup, tomato paste, Worcestershire, and a little sugar turns into a sweet and savory filling piled onto soft buns, meant to drip as you eat. Browning the beef until its moisture cooks off keeps the sauce from going watery once the tomato paste and ketchup are in. The finished mixture should hold on a spoon and slide off slowly; any looser and the buns soak through and collapse. Toasting the cut sides of the buns dries their surface and slows how fast the sauce seeps in. Pickles on the side balance the richness.
Sharp cheddar is worked through the whole dough, which is piped from a cookie press into long savory straws with a faint cayenne heat at the end. The butter and cheese need to be soft enough to dent with a finger, or the dough will not come through the press. The recipe relies on self-rising flour, with its own salt and leavening, so plain flour is not a straight swap.
Two thin patties stacked with melting American cheese give each bite more dark crust than one thick burger would. The beef, 20 percent fat, is shaped into loose cold balls and smashed flat on a very hot cast-iron skillet, once and only at the start. Pressing again after the meat starts cooking squeezes out juice and leaves the crust patchy. A thin-edged metal spatula wider than the patty scrapes under that crust at the flip, so it lifts with the meat instead of staying stuck to the pan. A tangy mix of mayo, ketchup, and yellow mustard plus pickles cuts the richness, and butter-toasted brioche buns hold it all together.
Under a mayonnaise and Parmesan lid, the tomato layer stays soft and juicy rather than setting like a quiche, since no eggs bind it. The usual failure is a soggy base: even a blind-baked shell cannot absorb unlimited tomato juice, so salting and blotting the slices matters as much as the pastry step.
Snow crab legs, shrimp, potatoes, corn, and sausage are tossed in a red butter sauce of garlic, Cajun seasoning, and Korean chili flakes, then spread out across the table. The potatoes and corn boil in water while the seafood steams separately, so the crab and shrimp stay dry enough for the sauce to cling. The sauce stays over low heat so the garlic and spices do not scorch, and the chili flakes push the heat beyond what the Cajun seasoning gives alone. Shaking everything with the warm sauce in a large bowl or bag works it into the crab joints and shrimp shells. Expect to eat it with your hands, cracking shells as you go, with lemon on the side.
Ham and low-moisture mozzarella are rolled up inside pizza dough, so each slice shows a spiral of bread and filling. No tomato sauce goes inside. Melted cheese does not mean it is done: if the dough in the middle is still damp, it needs more time, and 93°C at the center is the mark to aim for.
Cream cheese and sour cream form the base of this warm dip, with spinach, artichoke, Parmesan, and mozzarella folded in before it bakes until bubbling. Each cheese has a role: cream cheese for body, sour cream for a light tang, Parmesan for salt, mozzarella for stretch. One dish in the middle of the table feeds a group, scooped up with baguette slices or tortilla chips while it is still hot.