The Best Cookbooks of 2023 (2024)

I love the way that Arefi approaches baking: Yes, this is still chemistry, but you’re invited to riff a little and allow your creativity to take hold. If you’re looking for a gift for an avid baker or even for a loved one who has never touched a whisk, this new book will be a guaranteed hit. —Carly Westerfield

Still We Rise by Erika Council

Erika Council’s Still We Rise is a comprehensive study of the Southern biscuit. It’s also an ode to the Black hands who quite literally shaped these techniques and recipes—including Council’s paternal grandmother, Mildred Edna Cotton Council, writer of the iconic cookbook Mama’s Dip Kitchen and owner of the restaurant by the same name. Council begins by walking you through every step of her classic Bomb Buttermilk Biscuit, then she provides recipes for sweet and savory varieties. I recommend following the book as it’s designed: Start with the basic recipe, then move on to the variations.

I left the book with a better understanding of the way fat and hydration works in biscuits: First I made the classic, then I tried recipes that swap buttermilk for sour cream, mayo, and yogurt. In the end, I felt confident that I could make biscuits with whatever tangy dairy I had on hand. Council tells you why to follow a step in a particular way—and why not to do it another way. You begin to understand why your fat has to be really cold, why you shouldn’t twist your cutter when you’re punching out your biscuits, and why liquid should be incorporated gradually, for example. The biscuits in this book are tender and fluffy in the center, with beautiful layers and crisp edges. It’s so satisfying to work your way through a book and come out the other side feeling like you’ve really got a handle on one category of baking. Council is just the person to lead to you to the best possible biscuit with inviting and instructive writing that also traces a rich history. —Emily Johnson

The Best co*cktail Books of the Year

Every co*cktail Has a Twist by Carey Jones and John McCarthy

In the interests of transparency, I need to admit at the top that I’ve known Carey Jones and John McCarthy for a long time. What has always impressed me about their work is the way they make creative, thoughtfully designed co*cktails accessible and exciting to make, even for people whose experience making drinks might not have previously extended beyond store-bought margarita mix. In their new book, Every co*cktail Has a Twist, Jones and McCarthy come up with a handful of fresh riffs on a whole range of familiar co*cktails, including martinis (and espresso martinis), margaritas, spritzes, and manhattans. The recipes are pro level but not overly complicated, embedded within a how-to manual that includes truly user-friendly instructions on techniques like rimming a glass, muddling, and proper stirring. Every co*cktail Has a Twist is the book to get this year if you want not only a cool drink to impress the folks at your next dinner party, but also a thorough grounding in the construction of co*cktails that you can use every night at 8 p.m. —Noah Kaufman

Juke Joints, Jazz Clubs, and Juice by Toni Tipton-Martin

“My ambition is to ensure that African American workers who plied their trade behind the bar are not forgotten,” writes Toni Tipton-Martin, author of The Jemima Code and Jubilee, two cookbooks celebrating African American kitchen expertise through the centuries. In Juke Joints, Jazz Clubs, and Juice, she goes back 200 years, starting with the long tradition of fermented, brewed, and infused drinks like fruit wines and homemade cordials, continuing the story through the punches and batched drinks of Black caterers and food business owners, the icy smashes and highballs of 18th-century tavern owners, the dramatically layered pousse-cafés of bartenders at private social clubs, the refreshing shaken co*cktails she associates with swanky jazz clubs, and stirred concoctions she links to rural juke joints. I started in that section, stirring a sweet chocolate, bourbon, and orange after-dinner drink inspired by Tom Bullock’s 1917 chocolate punch, and a perfect manhattan enriched with a bit of the liquid from a jar of Luxardo cherries. Tipton-Martin, collaborating with her bartender son Brandon Tipton and co*cktail expert Tiffanie Barriere, adapts, adjusts, and rewrites the historical recipes to her own modern style, including the original inspiration alongside for comparison. You could make both versions and settle in for a very good read. —Maggie Hoffman

Saved by the Bellini by John deBary

With every new cookbook I feel more like Lexi Featherson. The Sex and the City character featured in the 2004 episode “Splat” famously cries “No one’s fun anymore! Whatever happened to fun?” before falling to her death after declaring “I’m so bored I could die.” But deBary’s new co*cktail book, filled with wacky animations, punny recipe names, and pop culture references, reminds me that cookbooks can be fun. DeBary’s deep knowledge of ’90s culture and interest in toeing the boundaries of what others consider “good taste” has yielded a hilarious and lovable cookbook that can’t help but make you smile. He swaps serious headnotes for rib-tickling ruminations on frosted tips, standard food photography for campy illustrations of anthropomorphic co*cktails, and everyday drink recipes for a Technicolored array of kooky combinations. But don’t let deBary’s style and sense of humor fool you: The cookbook is filled with inventive, creative, and easy to make co*cktails that have been developed by a master of the craft. Pairing unexpected ingredients like Yoo-Hoo and absinthe and infusing smoky Lapsang Souchong tea into watermelon juice are just some of the techniques you’ll find within this new culinary camp classic. —Jesse Szewczyk

Signature co*cktails by Amanda Schuster

This beautifully photographed collection is very international, highlighting iconic drink recipes from bars across the world. And while there are plenty of familiar classic co*cktails in the early, historical pages of the book, Schuster does a great job of tracking down lesser-known drinks like the Fanciulli, a lightly bitter 1930s manhattan variation that you don’t see everywhere but totally should. That Fernet-bittered whiskey drink couldn’t be more different from the fruit-punch-like Aperol and rum combo called the Hit Me Baby One Mai Tai, which hails from Los Angeles, circa 2017—and it shows that there’s something for every mood and flavor preference in this volume.

I normally wouldn’t gravitate toward a sugar-rimmed drink, but I found myself adoring the Almond Blossom Crusta—a combination of cognac, gin, lemon, and orgeat that was the signature co*cktail of a hotel in Santiago in the 1940s. I’d definitely make it again. But I’m also excited to keep sipping my way through this book to find my own new signature drink. —Maggie Hoffman