Nicole Rucker

Something magical happened the day I decided to dump a con­tainer of fresh ricotta into my standard biscuit recipe. I thought I would get lumps and layers of cheese in the biscuits, but I got something better than that. The ricotta melts into the biscuit in most places and creates a fluffy crumb that I had been trying to achieve for years but never knew the secret to. These are danger­ously addictive. Proceed with caution.

You know that classic squishy, cozy pumpkin bread? This is that same lovable loaf—except pastry chef Nicole Rucker ratchets up every flavor, then splashes a genius, extra-glossy glaze over the top. And just like the classic, it makes a very happy gift that keeps astonishingly well for days. As former Gjelina chef Travis Lett wrote in the Gjelina cookbook of Nicole’s cake, “This cake goes down equally well as a breakfast pastry, tea cake, or simple dessert. The deep mineral flavor of the kabocha, and the rustic crumb it produces is swirled with dark bittersweet chocolate.” A few more tips: If you’re wondering if you can bake this cake ahead, yes—not only does it keep extremely well, but I happen to love the flavor most on days two and beyond. If you can’t find kabocha squash, red kuri squash is a good substitute, or other dry, creamy squash varieties. If you needed to substitute butternut or other more watery varieties, Nicole recommends adding in this step from the original recipe: “In a large piece of cheesecloth, wrap the pureed squash in a tight bundle. Put in a colander set over a bowl, and let drain at least 4 hours. Squeeze by twisting the cheesecloth to remove extra water.” Recipe adapted slightly from Gjelina: Cooking from Venice, California (Chronicle Books, October 2015).

Fruit soup is not really a soup, it’s more like a fruit-based tapioca pudding. When I was first served fruit soup by my mother-in-law, Ann Marie, I recognized it as chia pudding’s older Swedish cousin. My mother-in-law serves it for dessert with fresh cream and a plate of butter cookies, but I think it’s a perfect breakfast alongside some full-fat yogurt and a handful of granola. Note: This recipe requires at least 6 hours of chilling time.

Cooked strawberries are a controversial subject in some circles. I love them, but I agree that there is a right way to cook them. My method is simple enough: Cook them hard and dark. They are at their best when you choose a high-flavor variety with good color, and you cook them until nearly all the water has escaped and they are concentrated and toothsome. Anything less than that and you have the soft, pallid, slippery fruit situation that gives cooked strawberries a bad name.

This pie came to be after a longtime customer showed up at our kitchen door with two stalks of fresh, local bananas that he had grown in his yard in the Malibu hills. I placed the entire stalks, flowers and all, on a top shelf in the kitchen and waited patiently for the bananas to ripen. Those bananas deserved an over-the-top preparation to honor the weeks of ripening it took for them all to be ready to use. Weighing in at a staggering four pounds, this is not your average late-night-diner banana cream pie. A rich layer of almond cream and baked bananas line the crust, followed by vanilla custard piled high and fresh bananas, and then a top­ping of whipped cream.