The whole book.

A sturdy brown-sugar dough, rolled into ropes, twisted, and boiled in baking-soda water before it ever sees the oven. That boil is what makes the crust.

A wet, shaggy dough you could not knead if you tried, given two long rises and dimpled into a tray under a lot of olive oil. A use for discard that is worth making on its own terms.

Three layers built on a boxed white mix with gelatin and chopped berries folded through, under a cream-cheese frosting made with well-drained strawberries.

A graham crust pressed up the sides, a plain cream-cheese filling lifted with vanilla, lemon extract and zest, and a long slow bake at a low oven.

A cobbler with a bottom crust as well as a top one — shortening pastry, blackberries thickened with cornstarch, and a woven lattice over it.

Three cheeses, a proper roux, and macaroni seasoned in its own right before the sauce ever touches it. Baked until the top browns and the sauce comes up round the edges.

Browned hard, braised in onion-soup broth, and finished in a gravy built in the same pan. The only way to get them wrong is to stop cooking too early.

Light smoke, olive oil, lamb rub and rosemary rubbed into the whole leg, mopped with onion-soup broth, and carved standing on the bone.

The closest thing to smoking a brisket, done in half the time. A three-bone rack, brisket rub, and either a wrap or an onion-soup mop — not both.

The offcut from trimming a rack, and the most underrated thing on the pit. Brisket rub rather than pork rub, and all that extra collagen makes them easier to smoke than a rib.

Long, slow and heavily rubbed. Hickory first, pecan after, wrapped once the colour is there, and pulled by hand into something almost feathery.

A whole rack trimmed down to the Compton Cut, mustard and pork rub, and low smoke with apple juice from the moment the crust sets. Done by the bend, not by a number.

A whole packer brisket, salt and pepper, oak and pecan, and most of a day. Fat left on, wrapped when the bark is right, and judged by feel rather than by the clock.

Beef and pork ragu simmered most of an afternoon, béchamel instead of ricotta, and fresh sheets between the layers.

Warm potatoes seasoned at every stage, mustard for the tang, relish for the sweetness, and the mayonnaise last. Mixed by hand, and better on the second day.

A sweet-sharp buttermilk and mayonnaise dressing, mixed ahead and kept well away from the cabbage until the last minute.

Floury potatoes seasoned while they are still hot, melted butter doing most of the work, and only a splash of milk. Smooth or lumpy is your call.

Salt cod pulled into threads, straw potatoes fried until they rattle, and just enough egg to hold the two together. Never set, never dry — it should still slump when you spoon it out.