Fieri's recipe had some ingredients that made his roasted fingerling potatoes stand out.

For one, it contained nearly as many mushrooms as it did potatoes. But I love mushrooms, so this wasn't a problem for me.

The recipe also said to include thyme and rosemary, but I subbed thyme for oregano because I really dislike thyme.

Fieri's recipe instructions were simple.

I tossed all of the ingredients together except the butter, spread the potato and mushroom mixture on a sheet pan, and then placed little cubes of butter all over.

Although I expected the little fingerling potatoes to cook fairly quickly, I was skeptical they'd be done in 20 minutes at 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

I was right.

After 20 minutes in the oven, my potatoes couldn't be pierced by a fork at all. They needed closer to 40 minutes at this lower temperature.

These potatoes tasted good, but they needed to be paired with a mushroom in every bite for the full flavor effect. The mushrooms seemed to absorb most of the herbs.

Fieri's potatoes weren't crispy — like I usually prefer — thanks to the added moisture from the mushrooms and butter. But these were a tasty alternative to my usual side dish.

Garten's garlic-roasted potatoes sounded delicious to me.

Aside from garlic and potatoes, other ingredients included salt, pepper, olive oil, and some fresh parsley.

Garten called for small red or white potatoes. I like both, but I used white for this recipe.

Because I have a mincing tool for garlic, it took very little time to prep this recipe.

I just needed to mix all the ingredients (minus the parsley) in a single bowl and lay the potatoes in a flat layer on a sheet pan.

Once my oven preheated to 400 degrees, I baked the potatoes for about 45 minutes. I turned them a couple of times while cooking, which helped make sure they got crispy all around.

When they were done, I quickly tossed them with a bit of fresh parsley.

After 45 minutes, the potatoes were nice and crispy, just how I like them.

I loved the texture, and the parsley added some freshness. But I would have loved even more herbs, like rosemary, for a more vibrant flavor.

Ray is known for her 30-minute recipes, and this hearty side dish is no exception.

The prep time only took me about five minutes, and there were only five ingredients.

Ray said to mix the ingredients right on the sheet pan rather than dirtying an extra dish, which made the prep even easier.

Then I popped the potatoes in the oven at 450 degrees for 20 minutes.

Ray's potatoes turned out to be a good balance of crispy, salty, and herby.

I could taste the rosemary in every bite. I also liked that the exteriors were slightly crisped, but the insides were really soft.

These didn't get quite as crispy as Garten's, but I still enjoyed them — especially since they only took 20 minutes.

It was really difficult to choose a favorite because I loved each recipe for different reasons.

Garten's potatoes were extra crispy, which I loved. And the mushrooms and herbs in Fieri's potatoes made them very flavorful.

If I had to choose a favorite, I'd go with Ray's roasted baby potatoes with rosemary. They were flavorful, and I liked that they were a little crispy but still really soft inside. Plus, they were super quick and easy.

This story was originally published on December 23, 2023, and most recently updated on December 20, 2024.

The recipe lists potatoes, an egg, flour, salt, and pepper. I was surprised to find that the recipe called for frying the latkes in clarified butter instead of oil. Eating foods fried in oil is part of Hanukkah tradition, so I was a bit skeptical about this change.

I managed to cut myself almost immediately. Grate with caution.

The resulting batter had the consistency of oatmeal.

The recipe includes instructions for how to make clarified butter. You can also just buy ghee at a grocery store and skip this step.

It reminded me of skimming the fat off the top of chicken soup. It was easy, but took extra time waiting for the solids to settle.

Garten's recipe instructs using a tablespoon of the potato mixture for each latke.

I also loved that frying the latkes in butter didn't make my entire apartment and person smell like oil. It's a strong scent that tends to linger. These just smelled mildly like melted butter, which was amazing.

Because there weren't any other added ingredients to the batter, the potato flavor shone through and the buttery crust was delicious.

It didn't have the oily taste of a traditional latke, but I actually preferred the milder taste of butter.

Stewart's recipe involved twice the amount of potatoes and eggs that were in Garten's, as well as additions like grated onion and beer.

Stewart's recipe says to reserve this potato juice, let the milky starch sink to the bottom, and pour off the liquid — similar to the clarified butter I made for Garten's recipe.

Grated onions are standard in latke recipes — beer, not as much. I was curious to see how it would affect the flavor and texture.

The larger latkes took much longer to fry than Garten's, and they were a little more unruly to flip. I'm still trying to get a resulting oil splash out of my favorite jeans.

I could already tell that these latkes were going to be the more traditional of the two.

I couldn't taste the beer, but the grated onion and the crispy, oily goodness created a sharper flavor that screamed Hanukkah to me.

Even though they're not fried in oil — which is kind of the point of eating them on this holiday — I enjoyed Garten's latkes more because they were easier and faster to make, and they had a mild, buttery flavor that I loved. But Stewart's recipe is perfect for traditionalists.

Each recipe called for trimmed, fresh green beans that had been blanched in boiling water for a few minutes and cooled in an ice bath to stop the cooking process.

The boiling times varied between two and five minutes. But since I like my green beans extra smooshy in the casserole, I blanched all the beans for five minutes before moving them to an ice bath.

Brown's green-bean casserole most closely resembled the dish I've been making my entire adult life.

The ingredients included breaded onions, green beans, and a mushroom sauce. Everything was pretty simple and straightforward.

Brown's recipe involved creating a sauce that seemed a lot like cream-of-mushroom soup to me. It included chopped mushrooms, butter, chicken broth, and half-and-half.

The sauce was simple to make and tasted amazing. I immediately knew it would be similar to the canned version I typically use, but fresher and more flavorful.

For the crunchy garnish, Brown called for yellow onions, halved and sliced thin.

I coated the slices in flour, panko, and salt and baked them until they were nice and crispy.

After all the components were ready, I started assembling the casserole by combining the green beans, mushroom sauce, and ¼ of the onions.

I topped everything with the rest of the crispy onions and baked it for 15 minutes at 475 degrees Fahrenheit.

It was obvious from looks alone that Brown's casserole was the most traditional of the three. It looked like the green-bean casseroles I've made for years, and it had the same flavor profile.

But Brown's version was better than mine. It was an elevated, fresher, more flavorful version of what I've been serving for years.

I just might start making it for future Thanksgiving dinners.

There were lots of familiar ingredients in Guarnaschelli's casserole recipe, like mushrooms, green beans, and onion.

But the chef called for a red onion, and the sauce for the casserole contained tangy Dijon mustard.

Like Brown, Guarnaschelli had specific instructions for preparing the onion in her recipe. It was to be sliced into super-thin rounds before coating and frying.

I was more than a little nervous to fry the rings of red onion in several cups of canola oil, but the process was easier than I anticipated.

After tossing the onions in flour, I fried them in batches, allowing them to drain on paper towels before salting them.

Of all three casserole toppings, these were the crispiest, tastiest, and most flavorful.

Other than the addition of Dijon, Guarnaschelli's sauce was familiar and straightforward to make.

Once I had everything ready, I garnished the top with the crispy onions and baked everything for about 10 minutes at 350 F.

I may save traditional green-bean casseroles, like Brown's, for Thanksgiving dinner. But I'd make Guarnaschelli's version as a side dish for any elevated meal at home.

The tanginess of the Dijon mustard combined with the salty crispiness of the fried red onion would make this a perfect side for everything from grilled steaks to barbecued meats.

Drummond's casserole abandoned traditional inclusions like crispy onion and mushrooms, and instead called for bacon, diced red bell pepper, and a creamy cheddar-cheese sauce.

I was immediately intrigued by how it would turn out.

I followed the recipe to a T, but I couldn't help but wonder how it would compare to my traditional and beloved green-bean casserole.

Most of the steps involved mixing the ingredients for the cheesy sauce in a pan on the stove before adding in the cooked bacon and blanched green beans.

Instead of crispy onions, I topped the casserole with breadcrumbs before baking it for 30 minutes at 350 F.

The bacon-y, cheesy dish was surprisingly delicious, although it tasted nothing like any green-bean casserole I've had before.

Next time, I'd add a few pats of butter to the breadcrumb topping to get it a bit more golden brown.

I particularly liked the flavors brought into the dish by the sharp cheddar cheese and red bell pepper — I could see this being a fun side dish to serve at a summer barbecue.

My husband preferred this one and said if you're trying to take a standout dish to a Thanksgiving potluck, this would turn heads.

Right out of the oven, Guarnaschelli's crispy, salty, oniony dish was my absolute favorite. The creamy mustard sauce gave it an elevated and decadent vibe, and the onions were packed with flavor.

But I think the best part of any holiday meal is the leftovers. The following day, Brown's green-bean casserole emerged as the best of the three.

As the traditional creamy, mushroom-laden sauce sat with the green beans, the flavors got even better. For Thanksgiving, I think Brown's recipe is the winner here.

Drummond's recipe was delicious, but it just didn't seem like a green-bean casserole to me. If I make it again, it'll likely be at other times of the year.

This story was originally published in November 2023 and most recently updated on November 26, 2024.