American

Editor's note: Use this recipe to make Norma Naranjo's Tamales . Mrs. Naranjo says, "A lot of these traditional dishes are being modernized. You see chefs putting spices and things in their red chile. My grandmother only used salt. I only use salt. This sauce can also be used to make red meat chile or chile filling for tamales, or to give thickness and smoky fire to other soups and stews."

"I love this meal. It's delicious, healthy and easy for me to prepare. There's not chef in my house!"

Make the decorations the day before baking This cupcake is inspired by a scene from the movie 28 Days Later, where a crow sits overhead with a piece of zombie corpse in his mouth. We've chosen a deathly pale skin color, but you can vary the color of the fondant to create different flesh tones. The jam and fondant topping contrasts with the subtle flavor of the white velvet cupcake. If you use toothpicks to secure the crows, remember to tell your guests.

Take a close look at the graveyard, and you might see a zombie rising from the dead—if you see a rotting hand reaching out from underground, you can be sure the rest of the zombie will soon follow. They're coming to get you… This delectable mud cupcake gives you a taste of the grave from the zombie's perspective. Remember to warn your guests that the hand is secured using a toothpick.

Use John Currence's classic Southern gravy for smothering biscuits , with or without the fried chicken.

Braising the pork belly yields crisp-tender nuggets ready to mingle with caramelized sweet potatoes. "It's a very American profile, sweet potato and pork," says Jared Wentworth, the chef at Chicago's Longman & Eagle, who gave us this recipe.

At Peels in New York City, chefs Preston and Ginger Madson tweak this Low Country favorite with two secret ingredients: a little Budweiser and a lot of tasso, a Cajun-spiced ham, which you'll find at specialty foods stores and cajungrocer.com. You can sub in andouille sausage if tasso is not available.

"Really good fried chicken and really good biscuits—together, they're like Wonder Twin powers," says chef John Currence, owner of Big Bad Breakfast in Oxford, MS. For a no-fry, old-school treat, split biscuits and smother with Sausage Gravy . Trust us, you'll be full.

This is a treat best enjoyed from July to October, when one's pail of freshly picked wild blueberries runneth over. The wild blues that stud this fluffy cake greet the eye like so many sparkling jewels plucked from a maharajah's box. It's a lovely cake to bake in the glowing embers. Set it to cook as the main course is served and, as if by magic, it will be ready by meal's conclusion.

These skillet-fried biscuits are a little sturdier than many other biscuits in order to hold the fresh berries intact. The butter bumps up the flavor as well. When they are fried, they remind me of the blueberries we picked early one morning as Girl Scouts and made into pancakes—a culinary highlight of my childhood. But they are very special baked as well. Either way, they’re a winner.

This is a very old recipe found in many books, including the 1964 edition of Joy of Cooking. It is a snap to make, uncomplicated with few ingredients, yet producing a stunningly tender and fluffy biscuit. There are two Rachels in our lives—my husband’s granddaughter, Rachel Bass, and co-author Cynthia’s daughter, Rachel Graubart. Novices, we asked them to test recipes we hope will be easy for anyone. Both gave these flying colors for both ease and taste. Here's what Gena Berry said about her similar adaptation of this recipe: A respectable homemade biscuit is an essential part of the Southern table, and this scandalously simple recipe makes turning out the perfect biscuit a snap. This recipe breaks all the rules of southern biscuit-making; there’s no shortening to cut in, and you don't even roll out the dough. The results are remarkable and even a novice can turn out fluffy, perfect biscuits in minutes. Would a respectable Southern lady bend the rules, defy convention and use sneaky shortcuts all in the name of turning out a hot, homemade biscuit? You better believe it!

The method of making biscuits in a traditional wooden bowl, without a recipe, was traditionally practiced by home cooks all over the South. A sack of flour was emptied into the bowl, a well was made in the flour, and then the number of biscuits desired was miraculously shaped by the additon of fat and liquid. The remaining flour mixture was then sifted and returned to the bowl, covered with a tea towl or flour sack, or to the sack itself until the biscuits were made again later in the day. Alas, this process is so intimidating to novice cooks, until they get the "feel," that I have to caution the novice to try another recipe first. Please come back and try these after practicing with easier versions, because this version makes biscuits the way they are supposed to be—meltingly light, tantalizingly tender, flaky, moist—and unforgettable. I have never had a better biscuit than Kate's.

Humble rice pudding gets a serious makeover with the addition of flavorful, fat-grained Carolina Gold rice and a glassy, sugared brûlée crust.

For as long as I can remember, my mom has been cooking chicken in oven bags, those oven-safe plastic bags. So when I recently started roasting chicken in a brown paper bag, I felt sort of like I was going back to my roots. It works great because the paper bag traps just enough steam to make the chicken supermoist and tender, while at the same time letting enough steam escape to allow the skin to get golden brown. It always amazes me that the bag doesn’t catch on fire—so much so that I think of this as half recipe and half magic trick. Just make sure your broiler is turned off and the bag is not touching the top of the oven.

This is a very simple traditional recipe, just the thing when you want to whip up something quick, easy, and comforting. It's an odd dessert that seems to be made up of parts from other desserts. The filling is gooey, like pecan pie with bits of apple. The outer edge is bubbly and chewy, like pralines. The top forms a thin, crisp crust that is like a sticky meringue or macaroon. In other words, this is not pudding-cup pudding but pudding in the English sense of the word, meaning dessert in general. There is a strong similarity between Ozark pudding and the Huguenot tortes made around Charleston. I've read all sorts of stories about the provenance of this dessert. One account says that Bess Truman invented it to cheer up homesick Harry in the White House. Another tale reports that French Huguenots fleeing persecution brought this recipe over. Another story is that a Charleston cook tasted Ozark pudding on a trip to the Midwest, brought the recipe home, and prepared it to serve in the Huguenot tavern where she worked. No matter which version you believe, it's obvious that good recipes get around.

A frosty glass of refreshing iced tea is the inspiration for this sorbet. Iced tea flavored with peaches has nearly outpaced tea with lemon in recent years. Bottles of tasty peach tea are available in most stores, but you can also brew your own with peach tea bags. If you use bottled tea in this recipe, make sure it isn't diet. This sorbet is a good way to use peaches so dead-ripe that they cannot be eaten whole or sliced because any small brown soft spots disappear into the tea. The vodka improves the texture of the sorbet, as does the corn syrup. Use tea-flavored vodka if you have it, although plain vodka works fine. Pouring a splash of the sweet tea vodka or bourbon over the soft sorbet makes an excellent slushy for grown-ups.

This is my cornbread, the one I offer up as what real cornbread ought to be: skillet-born, sugar-free, and bacon-blessed. Heating the bacon drippings in a cast-iron skillet is important. When the batter hits the hot fat, it sizzles and starts forming a deeply browned, crispy bottom crust that tastes like a good hushpuppy. Some people omit flour from their cornbread, but I find that it helps hold the cornbread together when it's cut, particularly when I use coarse stone-ground cornmeal. My sweet daddy and I grind our own cornmeal on a 1923 Meadows Mill that my great-grandfather, Papa Will Reece, bought new. The mill is considered portable, but it weighs several hundred pounds and must be hauled on a stout trailer. It's powered by a hit-or-miss engine, one of the first machines used in farming. Daddy hauls the mill and engine to heritage festivals and such all over the country. The whole operation is really something to see. For your cornbread, seek out the best whole-grain stone-ground cornmeal available in your community or order it from ansonmills.com. Fresh whole-grain meal is quite perishable, so store it in an airtight container in the refrigerator or freezer.

Our lighter take on the Gilroy Garlic Fries at the San Francisco Giants' AT&T Park forgoes the deep fryer in favor of a hot oven.

A spicy salad of pork belly and watermelon pickle at New York City's Fatty Crab restaurant inspired bartender Philip Ward of Mayahuel to invent a liquid riff on the dish. If you're a Margarita fan, you'll love this drink, which is made with mezcal, tequila's smoky cousin. Don't mess around with the cheap stuff; look for bottles in the Del Maguey line of mezcals, including Vida de San Luis del Rio.

For this patriotic-themed cooler, Cabell Tomlinson combines two summer favorites: sweet iced tea and sangria. "I started thinking about the Fourth of July," she explains. "I had the red from the rosé and the blue from the blueberries. I still needed the white, but I decided to go with that oh-so-American spirit, bourbon." She uses orange pekoe for the tea and suggests a fruity rosé like a Spanish Rioja.