This week NYC hosted the Fancy Food Show, a sort of fashion show to the food world where specialty food companies debut new products and shop for distribution, and media types can get a sense of upcoming trends. The biggest crowds huddled around the new sodas and iced teas (now that Coca Cola has bought Glaceau for $400 million, and invested a rumored $100 million in Honest Tea, I think it's safe to say there's money to be made in both). Here are five favorites I thought you might enjoy sipping over the holiday weekend (great with Dominique Filoni's perfect french fries):

1. Bionade
Organic lightly carbonated drinks from Germany with cool flavors like Elderberry & Lychee, exotic fruits that should be turning up more often in the soda aisle.

2. Fentiman's
We covered this British company's dandelion soda in our March 2007 issue; also try their Victorian Lemonade, Orange Jigger and Shandy. Irresistably bubbly and not too sweet.

3. Dry Soda 
This Seattle company launched in 2005, and comes in four clean flavors (kumquat, lavendar, lemongrass and rhubarb). This fall they'll debut Juniper and Vanilla, both designed by F&W Best New Chef 2006 Jason Wilson of Seattle's Crush.

4. Hi*Ball Energy
Kate Hudson, Orlando Bloom & Adam Brody have all been spotted drinking it, and with good reason - it's an energy drink from San Francisco that actually tastes like identifiable fruits like
grapefruit, orange and berry.

5. Wise Acre Frosteas and Frostbites
Frozen tea popsicles from a new Maine company, in fun grownup flavors like honey, jasmine green tea and (sweetened) yerba maté.

It has recently been brought to my attention by my sister, the ultra-diligent Food Network research intern, that almost every day of the year is a national food holiday. Today is National Fudge Day. Tomorrow, National Cherry Tart Day. And if you are wondering, November 12 is Pizza with the Works Except Anchovies Day. There's even a full week devoted to egg salad! I find this totally amusing and wanted to share this finding with all the food lovers of the world (or at least you F&W blog readers).

When you break it down, America’s two greatest contributions to the culinary universe are barbecue and cocktails (buffalo wings finish a distant third). On this patriotic weekend, I plan on celebrating both, with a pile of pulled pork (from our June 2008 issue) and this spunky drink made with applejack, the original American spirit, which I’ve turned into a pork-friendly pitcher drink.

Big-Batch Applejack Cocktail
Makes 8 drinks

Ice
2 cups applejack
1/4 ounce Rich Simple Syrup
1/2 ounce Angostura bitters
8 lemon twists, for garnish

Fill a pitcher with ice. Add all of the ingredients except the lemon twist and stir for 30 seconds, until chilled. Strain into chilled martini glasses and garnish each drink with a lemon twist.

I had made Irish soda bread early in the day in anticipation of my family's St. Pat's celebration meal, but I was undecided about the main course. Lamb chops or Corned beef? Lamb chops were faster, but corned beef was easier (and less messy). The only problem was that it was already 5:30—I normally feed my lot at 6:30, and corned beef usually takes about three hours to braise. So, risking the tough, stringy meat that results from cooking corned beef too quickly and at too high a temperature, I pulled out my pressure cooker. (Mine is a slightly outdated Magefesa made in Italy, but there are so many fantastic models available now) It was too small for a two-pound brisket, so I cut the beef into three even chunks and added about two cups of water, a few bay leaves, a handful of peppercorns and some thyme sprigs and brought it to medium pressure on very low heat. I checked after 45 minutes (my pressure cooker has a steam release valve for quick release), during which time I boiled some Yukon gold potatoes and braised some cabbage in butter, caraway, vinegar and chicken broth. Forty-five minutes wasn't actually enough, so I let it go for another 10 and it was utterly perfect—tender, juicy and just salty enough. Sliced and served with buttered potatoes, silky braised cabbage and of course the Irish soda bread, dinner was ready in one hour—honest!

A box of Peeps, sent by my mother, just arrived in the mail, which means it’s time to start planning Easter dinner. Luckily, we’ve recently sampled an assortment of traditional Easter meats from Heritage Foods USA, the sales and marketing arm of Slow Foods USA, which sells a variety of humanely raised, heritage-breed protein from small farmers around the country. We had the dry-cured, deeply flavored Virginia ham from Edward’s Hams; fresh, tender Romney lamb from Cattail Creek Farm in Oregon; and excellent Boer goat from Dragon Fly Cove Farm in Maine. All of the meat is available here; Heritage ships overnight for orders placed by Thursday morning.

And for dessert? Peeps soufflé.

A box sent by my mother just landed on my desk. No note inside, just a foil-wrapped package about the size of my shoe, nestled among a few cold packs. It doesn't smell all that different than my shoe, either, so I instantly know what's inside: rúllupylsa, a Norwegian rolled-meat log my family makes dozens of every year in the weeks before Christmas.

As far as we know, nobody in my family has ever written down a formal recipe for rúllupylsa, but an oral history has been passed down for generations. My father takes a whole flank steak, pounds it thin, adds a layer of thinly sliced salt pork, then a layer of finely chopped onions seasoned with turmeric and ginger. This lot he tightly rolls and stitches up with butcher twine (and a very large needle). These he simmers in a huge pot of water for a few hours, then lines up on a baking sheet. He places another baking sheet on top, weighs it down with some bricks and sets it outside to freeze (in my native Minnesota, this doesn’t take long). Once he snips and yanks out the butcher twine, the rúllupylsa is ready to be sliced crosswise and served cold—on its own or with lingonberry jam and rye crackers. The result is stringy, grayish meat swirled with a fatty, oniony white spiral. It’s basically a Norwegian meat Ho Ho.

At least I think rúllupylsa is Norwegian: I’ve actually never seen it mentioned in any Norwegian cookbooks or menus, and I’ve never spoken to another Norge who’s actually heard of the dish. The only references to rúllupylsa I can find on the Web are a few mentions of a similar-sounding Icelandic dish, made with lamb belly. Perhaps my family has been mistaken or misled for generations upon generations, just as there might be some family in Korea that covets its heirloom recipe for lasagna. To be honest, I’d rather not know the truth.

Traditionally during celebrations of the Cambodian New Year, in mid-April, a dessert of coconut-y sticky rice-covered banana, either steamed or grilled in banana leaf, is served. Even though I don't have much of a sweet tooth, I crave it all year long. For this New Year's Eve, instead of making the wraps, I'll make a different,  super-simple Cambodian dessert that my mother taught me over the Christmas holiday. It has the a same oozy, coconut-y sweetness of the wraps—but it takes a whole lot less time and effort.

Sweet Coconut Rice Cake
Makes 12 servings
2 cups uncooked sticky rice (also known as glutinous rice)
2 14-ounce cans unsweetened coconut milk
3/4 cup sugar
1 teaspoon shredded coconut
1 teaspoon sesame seeds
pinch of salt

In a medium, two-quart bowl, soak rice in enough water to submerge it by an inch. Drain water after two hours. In another medium bowl, whisk coconut milk, sugar and salt. In a large pot, combine rice and coconut milk mixture over high heat, and bring to a boil, about eight minutes. Reduce the heat to moderate, stirring occasionally, until there’s no more liquid, about 12 minutes. Spread out evenly on a 13-inch by nine-inch rectangular pan. Sprinkle shredded coconut and sesame seeds. Let cake cool slightly before cutting into squares and serving.

Why is it that, in this season of egg- and sugar-based confections, we’ve made it a tradition to pour batch after batch of what’s essentially the liquid form of the same?

I’m talking about eggnog (not the stuff that comes in cartons; that’s artificially-flavored milk) and it’s warmer cousin, the Tom and Jerry. My only answer is, who cares? For a few days each year, I’ll happily eat AND drink my eggs. If you’ve never made eggnog  before, make this recipe your first (you can skip the infusion step if you wish). On Christmas Eve you’ll find me whisking egg whites for Tom and Jerrys. Here’s my recipe (raw egg phobics look away):

Tom and Jerry
Makes 1 drink
1 egg, separated
1 ounce dark rum
1 ounce Brandy
1 teaspoon sugar
6 ounces hot milk or water
Freshly grated nutmegIn a medium bowl, whisk the egg yolk with the rum and brandy until frothy. In another medium bowl, beat the egg white and sugar until stiff peaks form. Fold the egg whites into the egg yolks mixture. Pour the batter into a mug and top with the milk or water. Sprinkle with nutmeg and serve.

My friend Beth could easily be the next Martha Stewart, though a sassier, hipper version. Saturday night she threw a perfectly executed Christmas party with spiked apple cider, mistletoe and a tree that looked like it stepped out of the Williams-Sonoma catalogue. The only thing missing was the Christmas music (her husband insists on James Taylor).    

Always on-trend, she had a red cast-iron fondue pot bubbling with Gruyère (Apparently fondue is making a comeback. In our January 2008 isssue, you’ll find the luscious version that chef Ryan Hardy serves on New Year’s day.) and a table full of tasty appetizers. I’m always impressed with the delicious, super-simple snacks she comes up with. The biggest hit at the party were addictive, bite-size chocolate-pretzel sandwiches. I couldn’t keep my hand out of the bowl and I couldn’t believe how easy they are to make. The recipe:

Take Snyder’s of Hanover square pretzel snaps and place a Hershey’s Kiss (Beth used the peanut butter-filled and caramel-filled Kisses) on top of each pretzel. Warm it in the oven until the Kisses are slightly melted, then place another pretzel snap on top and sandwich them together. They’re great (but messy!) right out of the oven, but just as delicious if you let them cool and then serve.

Punch season is upon us. I’ve been to a half-dozen holiday parties so far this year, and at each one a punch bowl made a guest appearance. This isn’t proof that the year-round punch service trend (see our January ’08 issue) has trickled down into our homes; punch is as much of a Christmas tradition as holly boughs and drunken Santas. As Wall Street Journal drinks columnist Eric Felton points out in his awesome new book (stuff it in your favorite cocktail-lover’s stocking), “For Dickens, Christmas wasn’t Christmas without a steaming bowl of punch.” When a reformed Ebenezer Scrooge makes amends with Bob Cratchit, his final reparation is a ladle-full of Bishop, a warm, port-based punch popular in 18th- and 19th-century England (Felton’s book contains two versions of the recipe)—essentially what we’ve come to call “mulled wine.”

At my own holiday parties, I too like to greet guests with a mug of mulled wine: It’s my way of saying “Welcome to my home. Here, defrost your hands, inhale some Christmas nostalgia, and get working on that buzz.” The first glass is usually appreciated, but I can’t remember a single guest ever asking for a second. Why? Because it’s hot wine. No matter how you gussy it up, wine—good wine, at least—is best drunk at much lower temperatures. Same goes for beer: Another punch mentioned in A Christmas Carol is waissail, a bowl of hot ale swimming with roasted apples. I’d rather do shots with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

With this in mind, I developed two chilled, wine-based punches for the Ray Isle's essential Holiday Wine Survival Guide in our December issue. (In the story we call them “pitcher drinks.” Pitcher or punch bowl, there’s no difference.) A third, slightly more complicated punch was left on the cutting room floor. It’s about as Christmasy as punch gets. I hope Dickens would agree.

Plum Pudding Cocktail
8 servings
One 750ml bottle Zinfandel
3/4 cup Becherovka (a cinnamon- and anise-flavored Czech liqueur)
3/4 cup Spiced Plum Syrup, recipe follows
3/4 cup Cointreau
1/3 cup fresh lemon juice
Orange twists, for garnish
In a pitcher or punch bowl, stir together the wine, Becherovka, plum syrup, Cointreau and lemon juice. Refrigerate until cold, at least 2 hours. Stir again and strain into punch glasses. Garnish each glass with an orange twist.

Spiced Plum Syrup
1/2 cup plum jam
1 cup water
6 cloves
10 allspice berries, crushed
In a small saucepan, bring all of the ingredients to a simmer and cook for 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and let cool. Strain.