Pea

Fava beans, asparagus, and sugar snap peas are the essence of the season in this vibrant spring dish with a citrus twist; the caramelized shallots are a sweet counterpoint to the zesty zing of the fresh lemon. While this makes a terrific side dish for roasted meats like ham, turkey, or chicken, you can also toss it with pasta or rice for a main-course meal.

Lemon lovers adore this simple and satisfying pasta. Lemon zest and juice brighten the peas and spinach while lightening the creamy Parmesan sauce. You can also use penne, orecchiette, or another small pasta. To cut back on calories, use whole milk or half-and-half in place of some or all of the heavy cream.

Crunchy, zesty, and light: what else could one want in a warm-weather salad? Radishes are thinly sliced and mingle with shelled fresh peas, while feta cheese and honey provide a special salty sweetness. Pea sprouts can be found at natural-food stores and Asian markets.

Peas and onions are a classic holiday duo. Relying on frozen ones, along with a quick béchamel, is a smart move on a busy day of cooking.

This recipe is part of the Epicurious Online Cooking School, in partnership with the Culinary Institute of America. To watch it being made, and to learn how to make other Italian classics, check out the videos.

This crostini is a fresh, satisfying mix of vegetables and eggs. Roasting the asparagus bring out its flavor without adding any more fat. Easy to make and pretty to serve.

Creamy white beans, fresh basil, and crunchy young vegetables are combined in a light but substantial salad that takes advantage of the first fruits of the spring garden. Use a mild honey, like clover or wildflower. —Chef Sam

Create endless riffs on this salad by using the bright herb dressing with your favorite grains and vegetables.

High-heat roasting concentrates vegetables' flavor and brings out their sweetness— a big reward for little effort. Use this recipe as a template. Most important: Cut into similar-size pieces, and don't overcrowd the pan.

Salmon with fresh morels and peas drizzled in cream sauce is a simple seasonal luxury worth indulging in.

I've eaten split pea and ham soup for as long as I can remember. On chilly days when my dad was being stingy with the heat, it especially hit the spot. But this concept is just as good in the springtime, when sugary fresh peas show up at the greenmarket. Although I must admit that I rarely feel like shelling peas at home after a long day in the kitchen, and I love frozen peas, which are consistently fine, so that's what I call for here. The finished dish is bright green and sweet, with little chunks of ham, carrots, and cool white blobs of crème fraîche floating on its surface.

"There is no point in cooking country ham and burgoo to serve just six," Charles Patteson advises the Derby Day host in Charles Patteson's Kentucky Cooking (1988). "Start with the mandatory mint juleps," he continues. "Burgoo, which is midway between a hearty soup and a stew, succeeds the juleps in the guests' cups as a first course." I hadn't known that. Nor had I known that it's traditional for burgoo to be scooped into silver mint julep cups at the annual Kentucky Colonels' Barbecue the day after the Derby. In Kentucky's Best (1998), Linda Allison-Lewis writes that burgoo must "simmer for twenty-four hours prior to being served," then confides that burgoo chefs used to listen for the splatter of the "mysterious ingredient"—the ingredient that fused all flavors—being added "sometime in the dark of night." Legend has it that that ingredient was a black snake that fell out of a tree into the first batch of burgoo. Historians doubt that but most do agree that burgoo was created during the Civil War by Gus Jaubert, a French chef serving Confederate general John Hunt Morgan. At war's end, Jaubert settled in Lexington, Kentucky, began making burgoo on a massive scale, and soon gained fame as "the burgoo king." On his death, according to Ronni Lundi, author of Shuck Beans, Stack Cakes, and Honest Fried Chicken (1991), Lexington cook J. T. Looney "inherited both Jaubert's pot and his title." While traveling about the Bluegrass State some years ago to research my Grass Roots Cookbook, I ate burgoo every chance I got. I also learned more about this Kentucky classic. Jaubert's original recipe apparently contained blackbirds. Unable to say "blackbird stew" not only because French was his first language but also because he had a hairlip, Jaubert pronounced it "burgoo." Or so I was told. Elsewhere I learned that those early burgoos contained mostly squirrels plus whatever vegetables came to hand. I daresay that there are hundreds of different recipes for Kentucky burgoo today. This downsized version of the burgoo served for years at the Pete Light Springs Restaurant in Cadiz, Kentucky, was given to me by Lois Watkins, whom I profiled in my book. "This burgoo is the best in the world," she said as she handed me the scribbled recipe. I won't quarrel with that.

Everything I know about getting a party started right, I learned at Houston's restaurant in Atlanta. No kidding. Its creamy, bubbling spinach and artichoke dip was a must on date night in high school, and these days it's the dish that even the snobbiest of food snobs can't resist. I'll whip it up for friends and, no matter what else I serve, it's always the first thing to go. Sometimes I leave out the spinach, add red pepper flakes, or use whatever vegetable is in season. In other words, it stands up to improvisation. We've put a spring spin on the dish, starring asparagus, just-dug-up leeks, sweet peas, and fresh goat cheese. Serve it with crostini, tortilla chips, or crudités. Or just eat it by the spoonful. It's that good.

Satisfy a hankering for high-fat Alfredo sauce with this light, no-dairy version. Oat milk and cashew butter stand in for heavy cream, keeping calories and saturated fat low.

Alain Ducasse— The lobster must of course be alive, its claws firmly closed with elastic bands. After plunging it in boiling water, keep the lid on the cooking pot to avoid splashes.
Paule Neyrat— The flesh of the lobster is particularly low in fat but rich in protein. The vegetables are low in calories but full of vitamins and dressed with a yogurt sauce. This is a luxury dish but one that's really low in fat.

This Mary Kettilby recipe produces a classic Potage St. Germain. The name comes from the Paris suburb of St.-Germain-en-Laye, where young peas, a rarity in the early eighteenth century, were sown in boxes for early-spring cultivation. The addition of onions and spinach provide a traditional French touch, making this soup a flavorsome beginning for spring menu. Calendulas, also known as pot marigolds, make a lovely garnish for this soup. They were used as both a flavoring and a medicinal herb. According to one source, calendulas could be added to dishes in place of saffron, an affordable alternative in the days before saffron was grown in England. Sprinkle the shredded blossoms over the soup just before serving it. Please note that the calendula/pot marigold should not be confused with the African marigold, which is used as an insect repellent in vegetable gardens.

Featuring paccheri rigati, a ribbed, tube-shaped pasta, this over-the-top casserole cooks in a 9"-diameter springform pan. But feel free to use rigatoni and a 9x9x2" baking dish instead.

This quintessential Kerala vegetable curry marries many of the best ingredients of the region: coconut, curry leaves, green chiles, and a host of tropical vegetables. All the vegetables are cut into batons and poached in a spiced yogurt-coconut sauce. This recipe is part of our menu for Sadhya, a South Indian feast.

This is one of the prettiest dishes I have ever made. It’s perfect for a ladies’ lunch, as it’s not too heavy and is extremely elegant looking. Make it ahead of time and serve slightly chilled. You could also substitute chopped cooked shrimp for the crab if you prefer.