Are you feeling the winter doldrums? January can be a blue time, post-holidays, when the dust settles and winter stretches ahead. It’s tempting to daydream about far-flung escapes to steamy destinations, away from the cold, snow and darkness. Reality, of course, keeps us home for many practical reasons. So, as the saying goes, instead of cursing the dark, it’s time to light a candle -- or in this case, the stove. If we can’t travel away, then we can bring the taste of travel home to our kitchen.

This is a perfect bowl for a winter day. Khao Poon is a traditional Lao soup with red curry and rice noodles, fragrant with lemongrass and coconut. It’s light, spicy and aromatic, finished with a shower of fresh herbs, bean sprouts and chiles to create a meal in a bowl. Chicken is frequently added, but it’s wonderfully flexible with proteins, including pork and fish, as well as tofu for a vegetarian option. And if that’s not enough to lift your spirits, Khao Poon is a traditional celebratory soup served at Lao weddings and other festive events. So dig in to your bowl and vicariously join the party.

Once all of the ingredients are assembled, this soup comes together in 30 minutes.

Lemongrass Chicken Curry Soup With Rice Noodles

Active Time: 30 minutes

Total Time: 30 minutes

Yield: Serves 4

8 ounces rice vermicelli noodles

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

1 pound chicken thighs, cut into chunky bite-size pieces

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 large shallot, finely chopped, about 1/4 cup

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 tablespoon finely grated peeled fresh ginger

3 tablespoons prepared Thai red curry paste, or more to taste

1 teaspoon ground coriander

6 cups chicken broth, divided

1 stalk lemongrass, cut into 3-to-4-inch pieces, lightly smashed

1 (15-ounce) can light coconut milk

1 tablespoon fresh lime juice, plus wedges for serving

1 tablespoon brown sugar

2 teaspoons fish sauce

2 teaspoons Asian hot sauce, such as Sriracha

2 cups bean sprouts

1 cup packed cilantro leaves and tender stems

1 red jalapeno or hot chile pepper, sliced (optional)

Cook the noodles according to the package instructions. Drain and rinse under cold water and set aside.

While the noodles are cooking, heat the oil in a soup pot. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and add to the pot without overcrowding. Cook until colored on all sides, then transfer to a plate with a slotted spoon (the chicken will continue to cook later in the soup).

Pour off all but 1 tablespoon oil from the pot. Add the shallot and saute until softened, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the garlic and ginger and saute until fragrant, about 30 seconds, then stir in the curry paste and coriander and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute more. Whisk in the chicken stock and lemongrass. Taste the stock, and if you prefer a spicier soup, whisk in 1 to 2 more tablespoons of the curry paste.

Return the chicken to the pot and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the coconut milk, lime juice, sugar, fish sauce and hot sauce. Bring to a boil and simmer until the soup is heated through.

Divide the rice noodles between serving bowls. Ladle the soup over the noodles. Garnish with the bean sprouts, cilantro and red chiles. Serve with lime wedges and additional hot sauce.

CAPTIONS AND CREDITS

Holiday festivities are muted and gatherings reduced this year, inspiring feelings that toggle between a yearning for glitter and a craving for comfort. How to celebrate and what to eat strive for a balance between these mixed desires. In my mind, the following recipe achieves just that. It’s simple yet elegant, special but not pretentious, and relies on a short list of honest ingredients that drive wonderfully fresh flavor.

I grew up in New England, where lobster is ubiquitous. It’s the quintessential summer food, associated with the seashore and bare feet, picnic tables and messy eating, accessorized by dribbling butter, nutcrackers and paper bibs. Now, many years and moves later, I rarely eat lobster. When I do, it’s usually on special occasions. The once standard summer fare has morphed into a celebratory treat, and there’s no time better for such an indulgence than the holidays, when shellfish and crustaceans go ever so well with a glass of bubbly.

This is a recipe for this time. It’s understated and comforting, yet carries the swag of fresh-cooked lobster meat. The method is simple, allowing the lobster to shine without bogging it down with heavy or precious ingredients; it humbly yet elegantly gives the lobster (and its necessary splurge) the respect and appreciation it deserves.

If you prefer not to use lobster meat, shrimp are an excellent alternative, and they will bump this recipe onto your roster of easy weeknight meals. When using shrimp, simply saute them in olive oil with a pinch of salt before adding them to the dish.

Lobster Spaghetti

Active Time: 30 minutes

Total Time: 30 minutes

Yield: Serves 4

1 pound spaghetti or bucatini

Salt

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 pound grape tomatoes, halved

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more for garnish

1 pound cooked lobster meat, as chunky as possible

1/2 cup loosely packed basil leaves, torn, plus extra for garnish

Lemon wedges

Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a rolling boil. Add the spaghetti and cook 1 minute less than al dente. Drain, reserving 1 cup cooking water.

While the pasta is cooking, heat the oil in a large, deep skillet over medium heat. Add the tomatoes and cook until they begin to break down and their juices release, 8 to 10 minutes, stirring frequently. Stir in the garlic and red pepper flakes and continue to cook until fragrant and the tomatoes soften further, 2 to 3 minutes. Season with the salt and pepper and taste to adjust.

Add the lobster meat to the skillet and stir to coat. Add the drained pasta and 1/4 cup reserved cooking liquid. Continue to cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the dish is well combined, adding 1/4 cup more liquid at a time to your desired consistency. The sauce should be glossy and evenly coat the spaghetti without being stodgy. Stir in the basil.

Divide the pasta between serving plates and garnish with additional basil, freshly ground black pepper, and a squeeze of lemon.

CAPTIONS AND CREDITS

It's winter, nearly the new year, and uncertain times. With that convergence, we could all do with some hygge right now. You might have heard about hygge, a Danish word that’s made a splash beyond its Nordic borders. It’s an appealing term, albeit linguistically challenging (pronounced WHO-gheh). The meaning, however, is hardly challenging.

Hygge is an intrinsic notion of comfort, warmth and coziness that transcends borders and language. It's not so much an object as it is a state of being. Hygge and its adjective, hyggelig, can refer to a gathering, a meal, a conversation, or simply a collective and communal moment, enhanced by good will and simple yet pleasurable things, such as flickering candles, fleecy blankets, a cup of tea, an uplifting conversation or delicious homemade food. Hygge is nondenominational, nonjudgmental, undemanding and egalitarian. No wonder it's so popular. We all need a dose of it.

Which brings me to meatballs.

If there is any food group that evokes intergenerational and international comfort, it's meatballs. Not only do they simply taste great, meatballs are in nearly every cuisine and enjoyed by children and adults alike. Your mother likely made meatballs, and so did her mother. They are the epitome of comfort food, burrowed into our culinary DNA, establishing a baseline that transcends economy, class and the ages.

And, as with most comfort food, meatballs are an efficient means to stretch inexpensive cuts of meat by jumbling the ingredients with herbs and spices, and braising them in rich and robust sauces and stews, ladling them over noodles, swiping them in dipping sauce, and piling them into double-fisted sandwiches. There is a recipe for everyone and every preference, including vegetarian with beans and legumes.

Eating them is unpretentious, comforting and immensely fulfilling, and bets are that you've been nibbling on meatballs since you were old enough to wrap your fingers around them. So, while I cannot light a fire or knit mittens for you, I can at least share a meatball recipe with you, and wish you a hyggelig meal.

In keeping with the origin of hygge, these lettuce wraps are inspired by Nordic cuisine with straightforward, no-nonsense spices and garnishes. I’ve taken the liberty to substitute cranberries for what would be lingonberries, which grow prolifically in Sweden. Lingonberries can be tricky to find here, however, unless you live next to an IKEA. Cranberries provide the same tart kick, and you might even have some left over from Thanksgiving.

Spiced Meatball Lettuce Wraps With Cranberry and Dill

Active Time: 45 minutes

Total Time: 45 minutes, plus 1 hour chilling time

Yield: Makes 24 to 28 meatballs

Compote:

2 cups fresh or frozen cranberries

1/2 cup sugar

1 sprig rosemary

Pinch of salt

Meatballs:

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

1 small yellow onion, finely chopped, about 1/2 cup

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 pound ground beef

1 pound ground pork

1 large egg, lightly beaten

1/2 cup breadcrumbs, such as panko

1/2 cup fresh parsley leaves, finely chopped

1/3 cup fresh dill, chopped, plus extra for garnish

2 teaspoons salt

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 1/2 teaspoons freshly ground black pepper, plus more for garnish

Olive oil for pan-frying

Butter lettuce or little gem lettuce leaves

Sour cream or whole-milk European-style plain yogurt

Prepare the compote:

Combine all of the compote ingredients in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Cook, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Reduce the heat to medium-low and simmer until the berries break down and the compote thickens, about 15 minutes. Remove from the heat, discard the rosemary sprig and cool.

Prepare the meatballs:

Melt the butter in a small saucepan. Add the onion and garlic and saute until the onion is soft, about 4 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl and cool slightly, then add the remaining ingredients. Gently mix to uniformly combine without overmixing. Using your hands, form the meat in 1-to-1 1/2-inch meatballs. Arrange on a plate and refrigerate for 1 hour.

Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the meatballs in batches without overcrowding. Cook until browned on both sides and thoroughly cooked through, 8 to 10 minutes. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towels to drain and repeat with the remaining meatballs. Keep warm.

To serve, place 1 to 2 meatballs in the center of a lettuce leaf. Top with a small dollop of compote and sour cream. Garnish with additional black pepper and dill sprigs. Roll up and eat.

CAPTIONS AND CREDITS