This is my favorite way to cook winter squash. It takes a cue from fondant, or melting, potatoes, a technique in which thick slices of potato are roasted on both sides before they finish cooking braised in a puddle of broth. From the oven, they’re crisp and somewhat glazed outside, creamy inside, and booming with more flavor than it seems possible to lock inside a potato. Clearly, I’m a fan—but I had no idea that when I applied this technique to big wedges of winter squash I’d never want to cook it another way again.

I add to the pan everything I like with winter squash—thyme, garlic, and cider vinegar, which gets sweet/tangy when cooked and really helps cut through the sweetness of squash—and then I put the whole thing on a plate of tart yogurt and peppery baby arugula. Any slightly syrupy broth left in the pan is poured over everything, and it’s all so good together, you might wonder why you’d ever consider squash a side dish again. This is centerpiece squash, and it wants you to know it.

Before we became parents, as working professionals, we opted out of a traditional family Christmas dinner in favor of something more intimate with friends. This board has all the elements of a Christmas dinner—slow-roasted beef bought thinly shaved from the butcher, honey-drizzled carrots and beet salad on a stick—but without the big production. It works as a centerpiece for a potluck-style gathering or as the main event the night before St. Nick arrives.

In 2004, I walked into my interview at Le Sélect Bistro. I had long dark-red hair and a long purple knitted jacket, and my “punk rock meets sixties pin-up” look was tailored for Toronto’s Queen West (if you know, you know). The iconic restaurant had been around since 1977, owned by “the cook,” Frédéric Giesweiller (from Alsace), “the nose,” Jean-Jacques Quinsac (from Provence), and Vicki Quinsac (JJ’s wife, from Cincinnati, the legendary and super-chic restaurant manager). I was applying as a bartender for the summer. The restaurant had just moved to its new home on Wellington Street in the Garment District. Jean-Jacques was interviewing me. “Lauren, I’m not sure if you will fit in here. Do you know wine? Do you know French food?” His questions were valid. This wasn’t a summer-bistro whatever job; this was about bringing the best of France to Toronto. "Jean-Jacques, I am hardworking, energetic, speak French, and am studying French cuisine, culture, and wine. I will work harder for you than anyone. Please, take a chance on me.” I stayed with the company for four years and made some of the most incredible friendships of my life under that roof.

Over the years, I moved into different positions to learn as much as possible, and served celebrities and diplomats alike at the bar as weekly regulars, including the legendary musician Daniel Lanois. I read the massive wine book JJ created, which I still hold dear in my Amsterdam book collection, and learned about Frédéric’s obsession with light dimmers and musical choices and volume. But the biggest lesson was the importance of working face to face—owners to the team, owners to guests, owners to family.

We’re not sure who came up with the cocktails on the back of the giant menu at Le Sélect Bistro, but they were not often ordered. One night, an order came in for a champagne Josephine. My work friend Martin McNenly and I had no idea what it was, but we laughed and did the best we could, following the flavors in the description. This rendition will do us all justice and uphold the Le Sélect Bistro culture, especially as JJ and Frédéric have now passed the torch of their business to new owners. What a legacy to leave behind.

Green beans amandine is a simple dish of sautéed green beans and garlic, toasted almonds, and a squeeze of lemon. It is bright, citrusy, and nutty for a healthy side dish worth sharing. My family loves this classic recipe. If you ask me, it’s far too delicious for how quickly it comes together.

A deeply flavoured vegetarian ragu might sound like a paradox, but this one is delicious nonetheless. Caramelized tomato paste, fire-roasted tomatoes, and tamari all bring umami magic to this dish. Meaty shiitake mushrooms add subtle texture—without making things too mushroom-forward. The food processor makes quick work of mincing, but chop the vegetables into roughly similar sizes first. This way, the food processor will mince the vegetables more evenly so they easily meld into the luscious sauce.

There are two ways you can go about making this recipe. You can buy a cured uncooked ham and cook it yourself, which will give you a less sweet, and more savoury ham, especially if you add the hay. Or you can save a lot of time by buying a quality cooked and lightly smoked ham and skipping directly to the roasting and glazing step. You’ll still end up with a great result.

Whether it’s a mid-week slump or a Friday evening dinner, I want something that is elegant, healthy, and—most important—filling. This spicy pot roast is always my go-to when I need a satisfying dinner for one (with leftovers!) or an impressive meal for a tableful of dinner guests. No one will ever know that you just tossed everything in the slow cooker!