Cook's Illustrated

At one point in middle school, I told my family that I was a vegetarian. My mom was shocked. Not because I was one of those kids who’d ask for steak on his birthday, but because I didn’t really eat fruits and vegetables. If you looked at the food pyramid plastered in classrooms and doctor’s offices around that time, you’d have seen that my new proclamation knocked out half of the third story. And my dislike of fruits and veggies had already closed off the entire second floor. That left me with a small attic of fried foods and fats; a wide and robust foundation of pasta, rice, and bread; and a rich, oozy core of cheese and cream. Yeah, that sounded about right. Not to my mom. Let’s just say that…

Warm Pasta Bowls with Pasta Water To heat up pasta bowls or plates, Rea Culwell of Walla Walla, Wash., places them in a clean sink with a colander on top and drains boiled pasta over them. The shower of hot water thoroughly warms the dishes, and any residual water can be wiped off with a kitchen towel. Prevent Your Hands from Smelling Garlicky Gina Ferreri of Shelton, Conn., has a trick for preventing pungent garlic odors from lingering on her hands. Before she handles the allium, she rinses her hands under lukewarm water, leaving them a little damp (be sure to fully dry your knife-holding hand). The water acts as a barrier, giving the fragrant, volatile garlic compounds (which are hydrophobic) less access to cling directly to skin. An Efficient Way to Mince Jalapeños Katy…

After hours of slow roasting over hot coals in an underground pit, the meat is pulled from the ground like a buried treasure. Its swaddling of maguey leaves, softened from hours of moist heat, is opened to reveal the feast inside: a whole animal basted in its own juices and infused with the leaves’ earthy minerality, rendered meltingly soft and shreddable. This is the magic of barbacoa, Mexico’s centuries-old method of slow-cooking meat. The dish is a long-standing staple of Sunday afternoon special occasions—birthdays, religious celebrations, or any other large gathering that demands a full-on feast. The tender shreds of meat are served with warm tortillas and a rainbow of garnishes such as salsas, chopped onion, radish, and cilantro. Rice and beans, corn, rajas, or other traditional side dishes made with…

The Buffalo chicken sandwich, with its irresistible interplay of hot, crisp chicken; squishy bun; zingy, buttery hot sauce; and tangy blue cheese, has the potential for brilliance—but not if the chicken loses its craggy crunch when it’s doused in sauce. My version starts with chicken breasts; the lean white meat is an ideal canvas for the rich and fiery accoutrements. I halve them horizontally and pound them thin to maximize surface area for the utmost crunch per bite. Then, for the coating, I call on flour for sturdiness, cornstarch for crispness, and baking powder to lighten things up. A drizzle of buttermilk creates a shaggy blend that is pressed onto the cutlets and allowed to set. Next, it’s time to deep-fry—and delight in the way the mixture coalesces into a substantial…

When I worked the fish station at Troquet, a now-shuttered bistro that overlooked Boston Common, I prepared anywhere from four to six different dishes during each service. Most involved a smoking-hot pan for crisping skin-on striped bass fillets or searing scallops, but every so often my chef would run a dish that offered a reprieve from all that sizzling heat. It was à la nage, French for “in the swim” and for the classic method of gently poaching and serving fish in a fragrant broth. To make it, I’d slip a fillet of something flaky and white like halibut or cod into a pan filled with gently simmering broth. It only took minutes for the fish to cook through and turn silky, at which point I’d gently usher it from the…

High-quality dried pasta is widely available and quick to prepare, so why make your own? This was the first question I put to Katie Leaird, a former America’s Test Kitchen editor and current food writer and pasta-making instructor who studied her craft in Italy. Without hesitation, she replied: “Because fresh pasta is a completely different food.” The texture of a fresh noodle, she insisted, is chewy in a way that’s impossible to replicate with one that’s been dried. You should also make pasta by hand—no food processor, no mechanical roller, not even a rolling pin—simply because you can. The tactile experience of pasta “fatto a mano,” or handmade pasta, is a meditative way to pass an hour or two, and it rewards you with a hearty meal, particularly when you’re making pici…