Kirsch

The bright cherry flavor of kirsch gives this spiced holiday drink a fruity kick.

层黑樱桃酒liqueur-soaked甜樱桃智慧h a tangy yogurt cream and chewy meringue cookies for a dessert that tastes both heart-warmingly retro and totally modern.

Don't peel the peaches; simply rub off the fuzz with a damp paper towel.

A hint of lemon is perfect in a creamy baked custard. This one has no caramel to get in the way of the lemon flavor. Lemon juice would be too overpowering here. Instead, the subtle lemon flavor comes from steeping lemon zest in the milk for the custard mixture. The heat of the milk extracts the essential oil from the lemon zest skin, and the milk absorbs the delicate flavor. The hints of cinnamon and vanilla are there to support the lemon, not obscure it. Raspberry sauce makes a perfect complement. I wouldn't dream of serving the custard without it.

Here's a good base recipe for using frozen berries to prepare a flavorful sauce. I find that frozen berries need to cook a little to make them less watery and to concentrate their flavor. Look for raspberries that come frozen in a bag. Feel the bag to make sure all of the individual berries are loose and not clumped together. Bags of frozen berries tend to taste better than those frozen in a block.

Fondue may have been trendy in the 1960s and 1970s, but cheesy goodness has never really gone out of style. This recipe is straight from the Alps, and calls for the classic combination of Gruyère and Emmental. Melt them in a cast-iron fondue pot with the simmering wine before transferring the mix to your fondue stand. Of course, you can serve this with cut-up veggies and fruit, but bread is the true classic partner. Just know that if you lose your bread in the cheese, you’ll need to kiss your neighbor. That’s Swiss tradition.

When sour cherries (griottesin French) were in season, my father would preserve them in eau-de-vie for hisBlack Forest Cake génoise. The syrup moistened the génoise, and the cherries went into the filling. My brother and I would eat the cherries until we got a buzz. Before freezers, the only way to preserve the fruit cops would be to make jams, jellies, these fruits preserved in alcohol, and eau-de-vie. Alsace is famous for its eau-de-vie as well as for its cherries, plums, and pears. It was natural to do these cherries at home and pull out a jar for special occasions. We usually do not pit cherries even when baking or using them for preserves such as these, so be sure to tell your guests about the pits. If you do pit the cherries, the alcohol penetrates them more quickly. But they hold their shape better if not pitted. Serve the cherries on their own as a treat with after-dinner coffee or over ice cream.

Fondue is traditionally made tableside in a stainless steel or ceramic pot over a small open flame. Here is my smoke-infused version of a classic fondue using a wood-fired oven or the indirect heat of a grill or cooker. My favorite way of making the fondue is in a clay sand pot as used in Asian cooking. These pots are inexpensive and fun to cook with (see Resources). You can use a ceramic pot with a lid as well. Or, for a dramatic presentation, place the fondue pot on the table over a small charcoal hibachi to keep hot (see Resources). You can use endive or radicchio leaves and red peppers for dipping in addition to the bread. Serve with a small, simple salad.

Make the most of fresh cherry season by baking the little stone fruits right into charming tea cakes. The cakes, made with ground almonds, brown butter, and egg whites, are similar to financiers, which are small, springy brick-shaped cakes named for their resemblance to gold bullion. These cakes are baked with the pits left inside the cherries (be sure to warn guests before serving). Or, if you prefer, remove the pits before baking, leaving the stems intact.

Chocolate and cherries are a match made in heaven—or, in this case—the Black Forest region of Germany, where the original layer cake was created (and cherries are abundant). These miniature versions of the classic German dessert are saturated with cherry liqueur, layered with sweet pastry cream and preserved cherries, and drizzled with rich chocolate ganache.

This stunning dessert may be a showstopper, but its crust is remarkably simple; it’s an easy-to-make oversize almond macaroon. The strawberries are macerated in sugar and liqueur before arranging on the tart; if allowed to rest for a couple of hours, the airy base will begin to soak up some of the deliciously boozy syrup. Since it’s flourless, the galette is an excellent choice for Passover.

Any berry will work in Old Bachelor’s Jam; here, it’s made with blackberries, raspberries, and kirsch. Some say the liqueur-infused jam was named for its capacity to warm single gentlemen on winter nights. Jam will keep for 1 month, stored in airtight containers in the refrigerator.

Cornmeal and blackberries appear together in many baked goods and desserts, as their late-summer flavors complement each other beautifully. This recipe calls for you to prepare your own jam, for which you will be rewarded with a few extra jars. Otherwise, seek out a top-quality store-bought jam to use in its place; spike it with two tablespoons kirsch.

The flavor of these dense bars is reminiscent of Black Forest cake, a classic German dessert that originated in the country’s southern Black Forest region, renowned for its sour cherries and kirsch (cherry brandy).

I’m a big fan of the all-American blueberry, and why not? They’re so easy to transform into a versatile sauce that’s equally at ease atop Philly-friendly Cheesecake Ice Cream (page 62) or alongside Hollywood–healthy Vanilla Frozen Yogurt (page 49). Or forge a Franco-American alliance by adding crème de cassis, the deep, dark black currant liqueur from Dijon (see the Variation at the end of the recipe).

My first experience making Swiss cookies was less than optimal. A friend had given me his mother’s recipe for Basler leckerle, a spiced almond cookie swathed with a kirsch glaze. They’re meant to be kept in a tin for 6 months before eating, during which time they supposedly soften up and become toothsome delights. To make a six-month story short, I was skeptical when I plucked one of the cookies out of the tin. Then I bit down and almost lost a tooth they were so hard. Since then, I’ve avoided Swiss cookies. But, some time later, at Stohrer bakery on the rue Montorgeuil in Paris, I tasted the lovely zimtsterne, star-shaped cinnamon-almond cookies of Swiss origin that are made only around the holidays, and fell in love. I was prompted to come up with a recipe that I could have year-round—as well as one that wouldn’t require a trip to the dentist. I couldn’t find a cookie cutter in the traditional zimtsterne shape of a six-point star in France where I live, so a friend brought me one from New York, which I guess makes this Swiss cookie a star of international proportions.