Italian

Shrimp alla buzara is common all around the northern Adriatic coast. When I make this quick and delicious dish at our house, I give everyone an empty bowl for the shells. I bring the pan to the table; we roll up our sleeves and dig in, savoring the sweet meat, then sucking and licking every drop of sauce from the shells. All that’s needed is some grilled bread. If you wish, use smaller, inexpensive shrimp (shelled and cleaned) in the recipe to make a terrific dressing for spaghetti or linguine. And leftovers make a great risotto.

Make a whole batch of this pasta dough for Fresh Pasta Quills with Chicken Sauce, page 16; Roast Goose with Mlinzi, page 28; or Pasutice with Seafood Sauce, page 18. Roll, cut, and shape the pasta as detailed below, and use in whichever dish you are preparing.

This is typical of Istrian preparations for the abundance of fresh seafood that blesses the region—fast, simple, and full of flavor. The longest step is cutting the pasta dough into diamond-shaped pasutice, which can be done hours ahead or frozen way in advance. (And though pasutice is the optimal and traditional pasta, linguine would be a fine substitute.) For the sauce itself, the cooking takes just minutes. Use your widest skillet, so the shellfish sauté and caramelize quickly in the dry pan, then cook them only briefly in the liquid, or they will become rubbery.

Makaruni are traditional in Istria, a kind of pasta made when there was no time to roll, cut, and shape it. Rolling little pieces of dough between the palms of one’s hands was quick and effective. My grandmother and other women of her generation were expert makaruni-makers. In no time, they would take a big batch of pasta dough and turn it into slim little noodles. Instead of rolling the bits of dough back and forth for a second or two, my grandmother could compress and stretch a piece of dough into a perfect makaruni with one swipe of her hands—and flick it right onto her floured tray in the same movement. Forming makaruni is truly simple, and once you start rolling, you’ll quickly become proficient. Today, as when I was a child, the whole process is fun, so get the family to help and the makaruni will be done fast. And in a few minutes you’ll enjoy the great taste and texture of your handiwork. This delicious sauce is traditionally made with gallinacci, or chanterelles, though other mushrooms can be used. Makaruni are also wonderful with the amatriciana sauce of tomato and bacon on page 228.

This simple soup can be made anytime, but it is best with locally grown asparagus (if you can possibly get it) with the sweetness of springtime. It’s also important to cook this soup sufficiently to develop the full flavor and silkiness from the base of leek and potatoes.

This is a hearty soup that my grandmother made—though never the same way twice. Sometimes she would add some pasta near the end of cooking, in the style of pasta e fagioli, or add another kind of bean, since legumes were so important. In season she would toss in a cup or two of fresh corn kernels. This is really a one-pot meal, in two courses. First you have the velvety, rich soup, then sliced sausage and ribs as a second course. With a piece of country bread and a small salad, who could ask for more?

Try this luscious topping on the cake above instead of the whipped cream. Finish by toasting the meringue waves with a kitchen torch.

This kicky sauce is matched in flavor by its dramatic green color. Bright with parsley and with deep notes from the anchovy, salsa verde makes plain grilled fish or meat into something you want to serve to company, and it adds an herby note to rich organ meats or tongue. Try adding a spoonful to soups or tossing with plain boiled potatoes.

This is less a recipe than an idea, but I assure you that it’s an idea that will continue to inspire you. It began with a jar of marinated Sardinian pecorino that I bought and kept at one of the restaurants. Although the price of the cheese made it as precious as gold, I soon found that it enhanced nearly everything it touched, from pastas to carpaccios. (I admit it’s also terrific snitched directly out of the jar.) If kept covered in olive oil, the cheese will keep nearly indefinitely, though it’s so irrisistable that it won’t last that long. Make sure it is allowed to come to room temperature before using. As you use up the cheese, add the olive oil to vinaigrettes, pasta, and more.

If you master any one recipe in this book, this should be it. Not only does a bright, fresh tomato sauce turn any freshly made pasta into an event, but it’s also an indispensable component in dishes from basic ragus to Maloreddus with Squid, Tomato Sauce, and Lemon (page 97) and Linguine with Shrimp (page 90). Part of the fun of making your own sauce is squishing the whole tomatoes—and they must be San Marzanos—with your fingers. It can get messy, especially for those of us who wear glasses, but it’s worth it (and a good stress-reduction technique, to boot). Find an apron and get ready for a simple, well-balanced sauce that you’ll always want to have on hand. And when you can have this sauce ready in under an hour, why ever open a jar again?

I love how Italians use nuts in desserts, from almond cake to pine nut tarts. Here, those same pine nuts transform the humble cookie into something truly special. Crumbly, yes, but not too sweet—just delicate and fabulous. For a variation, try filling the thumbprints with homemade jam. Rhubarb would be delicious, making each cookie taste a little like PB&J.

This is an Italian classic, with a twist. Traditionally made with Marsala, I like to vary it by using Viognier, or even prosecco, as we do here. The wine adds a dimension to the custard and marries well with the sweet berries. If you don’t have a kitchen torch, skip the step where you sprinkle on the sugar and simply serve the custard spooned over the berries. If you use the broiler instead of a torch, the custard will get too soft.

There are fruit people, and there are chocolate people. Even chocolate people will lick their plates clean when presented with a refreshing, lemony panna cotta strewn with wine-steeped peaches. Panna cotta makes a nice spring and summertime dessert because it’s not so rich that you leave the table feeling stuffed, and the lemon verbena adds a welcome, herbaceous tang. This dish is perfect for company because the panna cotta must be made ahead, and the peaches “cook” while coming to room temperature.

One of my favorite cheeses from Piedmont, you can tell La Tur is special from the moment you see the little round presented in its ruffled paper wrapper. This is a very well-balanced cheese, young, made from goat, sheep, and cow’s milk. Cutting through the soft rind you find a slightly tangy, nearly mousselike interior, and each round feeds four perfectly. Roasted tomato “petals” make a colorful and velvety pairing, richly drizzled with the best balsamic you can afford. If you can buy 100-year-old balsamic, do it—celebrate your good fortune. If, like me, you can only afford something a bit younger, don’t let it hold you back from ending an evening with this dish. Serve with a plain baguette or slices of peasant bread; nut-or herb-flavored breads will compete with the flavors.

A cheese course for gin lovers, Ginepro is a sheep’s milk pecorino from Emilia-Romagna that is first rubbed with balsamic vinegar and olive oil and then buried in juniper berries. It’s a salty, herbal cheese with an awesome tang. To complement the flavor and amp up the juniper, caramelize some pears and flame them with gin, then allow them to macerate to develop the flavor. With that much gin going on, pour a dry prosecco to drink with it.

I love it when the first bunches of springtime sorrel appear in the market. It has a fantastic sour, lemony-mint thing going on that does something great for clams. The only drawback is that when you cook sorrel, it turns the worst color of brown. Sprinkle it on the dish at the last minute for the best flavor and look. Please try to find guanciale for this dish—it has a delightful fattiness to it that can’t really be replicated. If you can’t find guanciale, use bacon or pancetta instead. Everyone thinks clams have to be cooked over high heat. It’s not necessary in order for the clams to open, and it can render them tough if not done carefully.

Though this recipe sounds straight out of a Coen brothers’ movie, the name refers to the fact that you chop off the squids’ arms and stuff them inside their own bodies. Trust me—this is my kind of punishment. I use cooked Controne beans as a binder instead of breadcrumbs, ensuring the filling is creamy and light, and I add slab bacon for a hit of smoke and texture. When you grill the tentacles, remember that you’re just precooking them and don’t leave them on the heat too long. Another key to this dish is ensuring that your filling is at room temperature before you stuff the squid. If it’s too cold, you’ll overcook the bodies while you heat the stuffing through. If you want to stuff the squid earlier in the day, just take them out of the fridge about a half hour before grilling.

This is a dish to transport you to the Italian Riviera—the freshest sardines, simply grilled, splashed with lemon, briny olives, and the sweet anise flavor of the season’s first fennel. This is also finger food, so get out a big stack of napkins and don’t eat them with those who are excessively dainty. They don’t deserve them anyway. It would play into the whole relaxed-by-the-sea thing if you have your fishmonger scale and clean the sardines.