Hazelnut

Hazelnut deserves your respect, and your patience. Sit down, let's talk about it.

Buy it in the shell if you can, and crack it yourself, close to the day you'll use it. Roast it right and you'll see it before you taste it — the kernel turns a deep, even gold, and the kitchen fills with a warm, nutty smell. Roast it too long and that smell turns sharp, almost burnt, and you'll know the batch is gone before you even taste it.

To choose hazelnuts well, look past the shell to the kernel. It should feel plump and firm in your fingers, the skin dry and papery, not oily to the touch, no dark spots. Smell it. A fresh hazelnut smells sweet and clean. Leave it too long in a warm cupboard and your nose will warn you first — rancid fat smells sharp, almost like old paint, and once you've smelled it, you'll never mistake it again.

Some people say the darker the roast, the better the flavor. No! Keep pushing past gold and you're not deepening the flavor, you're burning it away — the smell tells you the moment it happens. The mistake this leads to is straightforward: bitter pralines, bitter cakes, a whole batch ruined because someone trusted color in a dim kitchen instead of trusting their nose.