Italian

When you start with store-bought dough, homemade pizza comes together in minutes. Look for whole-wheat dough in the refrigerator section of health-food stores and some supermarkets. Frozen artichoke hearts are a convenient alternative to steaming fresh artichokes, and they retain much of their nutrients; if you use canned, rinse them well and let them drain. (Jarred, marinated artichokes are not recommended for this recipe.)

A snappy almond-and-herb pesto is a fresh departure from the classic pine-nut-and-basil version. For an even more nutritious variation, add three tablespoons ground flaxseed to the pesto.

Pesto is one of those once-exotic foodstuffs that has become ubiquitous on the American table. It hails from the Italian city of Genoa, in Liguria. Don’t limit yourself to pairing it with pasta—it’s sensational on sandwiches, pizza, and even as a topping for vegetables such as tomatoes and corn. A mortar and pestle (preferably large) is the best tool to use for crushing the basil, since it produces a sweeter-tasting sauce (a food processor also works, as long as you don’t overmix). It’s the traditional equipment, after all, that gives the sauce its name. In this recipe the garlic is blanched first to mellow its flavor; if you prefer the pungent taste of raw garlic, omit this step and use only one or two cloves. For variety, add a little fresh parsley, spinach, or arugula, or substitute pine nuts with walnuts or almonds (chopped after toasting). Store pesto in an airtight container, covered with 1/4 inch of olive oil (to preserve color) in the refrigerator.

The hearty flavor of these dumplings lends itself to a range of preparations. Tossing with basil pesto is perhaps the most common, but gnocchi can also be served with brown butter and sage or doused in a hearty ragù, like Bolognese Sauce (page 383).

In Italy, lasagne is usually made with fresh pasta, either made at home or bought at the local shop (practically every town has one). The quality of the pasta is in fact the key to the dish, since the ratio of noodles to sauce should be fairly equal. The other components should also be of top quality, as they will contribute to the overall dish; buy fresh ricotta and mozzarella if possible—both will lend wonderful flavor and creaminess. This vegetarian lasagne evokes the Italian flag, with its layers of red (marinara sauce), white (cheese), and green (fresh spinach pasta). If you would like to incorporate some meat, brown a pound of sweet Italian sausage (casings removed), crumbling with a spoon as it cooks, then halve the sausage and sprinkle evenly among the cheese in two layers. The pasta dough should be made as close to assembling the lasagne as possible, so plan accordingly. There is no need to pre-boil these noodles. Once rolled out to the thinnest setting on your pasta machine, stack the noodles (they should measure 5 inches wide and 26 inches long) on a baking sheet with plenty of semolina in between to keep them from sticking together. The lasagne can be assembled on one day and then baked on the next; cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to bake.

Tortellini are traditionally served in broth; Basic Chicken Stock (page 41) or Basic Brown Stock (page 50) would be equally delicious.

Bologna, the capital of the northern region of Emilia-Romagna, is considered by many to be the food capital of Italy. Besides being the birthplace of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, balsamic vinegar, and Prosciutto di Parma, Emilia-Romagna differs from the rest of the country in the richness and complexity of its cuisine; Bolognese Sauce, with its delicate aroma and balanced flavors, is no exception. The sauce is hearty but also profoundly elegant, and is especially delicious when tossed with fresh pappardelle (see page 367 for how to roll and cut fresh pasta dough into these flat, long, wide strands). You’ll need about 3 cups for 12 ounces of pappardelle. The sauce can also be baked into lasagne (using spinach noodles as the Bolognese do; page 386) or served over gnocchi (page 376). For the meat sauce to have its characteristic richness and complexity, it must be cooked slowly over low temperature (what many cooks call “slow and low”). You simply cannot rush it, but know that your patience will be rewarded.

Marinara is the most basic tomato sauce for pasta and pizza, consisting only of tomatoes, olive oil, garlic, and minimal seasonings. With so few ingredients, the quality of the tomatoes and olive oil is critical. The recipe below calls for fresh tomatoes. A combination of very ripe plum and beefsteak is best; plum tomatoes are fleshier with fewer seeds, while beefsteaks have a balanced, delicious flavor. If fresh tomatoes are not in season, by all means substitute canned whole tomatoes, preferably the imported variety from Italy (or other high-quality tomatoes). It is imperative that the garlic doesn’t color at all in the beginning, as this will give the sauce an unpleasant bitterness. That’s why the garlic and the oil are heated together briefly over moderate heat. Then the tomatoes are quickly added (after only 30 to 45 seconds), which will help keep the garlic from browning. This sauce is used in the lasagne on page 386, but it’s also perfect over ricotta-filled ravioli (page 369) or tossed with spaghetti and sprinkled with freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Romano cheese.

With its light taste and texture, this sauce is best paired with slender strands, such as cappellini, spaghetti, or linguine; to serve, toss sauce with freshly boiled and drained pasta, adding a generous handful of fresh basil leaves, torn into pieces. And keep in mind that although the sauce is extremely easy, it does need an hour or two to allow the flavors to meld, so plan accordingly.

This colorful dough should be made in a food processor, which ensures that the vegetable puree is distributed evenly throughout.

Settings on pasta makers vary (some have as many as ten settings, others only six); this recipe was developed using a hand-cranked pasta machine, but you can use any machine as long as you change the settings incrementally.

Because no two batches of fruit have the same sweetness, it’s important to adjust the mix before freezing. This will affect more than flavor because sugar lowers the freezing point of water; so the sweeter your mix, the slushier your sorbet. Too little sugar and the sorbet will be icy hard. Some chefs use a saccharometer (which gauges a liquid’s density by how much of the instrument floats above the surface), but a large uncooked egg stands in quite well (see step 4). Watermelon is one of the simplest flavors to make, since it requires no added water. Follow the amounts in the chart on page 485 to make the suggested flavor variations. When using only juice, you can skip the first step. Citrus fruit can be squeezed by hand. For the kiwi and pineapple sorbets, you will need to add fresh lime or lemon juice along with water in the first step. All liquids should be strained into a deep bowl or plastic container as directed. If desired, add up to 3 tablespoons of other flavorings such as liqueur before adding the simple syrup.

This simple yet timeless Italian dish demonstrates beautifully the process of sautéing: cutlets—most often chicken or veal—are dredged with flour, then sautéed in a mixture of olive oil and butter, a typical combination that is practical and flavorful. The flour encourages the chicken to form a light crust (and helps thicken the pan sauce), the butter helps it to brown, and the oil raises the smoke point so the butter doesn’t brown too much before the chicken is cooked through. A simple pan sauce is the only accompaniment, and is designed to make good use of the tasty browned bits left in the pan from cooking the chicken.

In Sicilian cooking, raisins and nuts—often pine nuts, but almonds and walnuts are also common—are frequently used to lend sweetness to bitter greens and vegetables, including chard, spinach, and kale, as well as broccoli and cauliflower. They also add textural contrast to a dish of sautéed greens, as in this chard recipe. You can make a simplified version by omitting the shallots, nuts, and raisins, and starting at the point where you cook the garlic and red-pepper flakes in oil.

The squash filling in the recipe can be replaced with virtually any precooked vegetables you like. You can also omit the goat cheese and sprinkle on more grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Asiago, or use Gruyère cheese instead.

Polenta, a staple of northern Italian cooking, is coarsely ground cornmeal that is cooked very slowly simmering on top of the stove (or in the oven). Because of the frequent stirring and the incremental additions of liquid, the cooking method is very similar to that used for risotto. Polenta can be served right away, as in the recipe that follows, or allowed to set and then cut into shapes and fried, grilled, or baked. Water is the most common liquid, but for a richer, more flavorful polenta, replace all or some of the water with chicken stock (page 41) or vegetable stock (page 56), reducing salt accordingly, if necessary. Or substitute half the water with milk (preferably whole) for a creamier consistency. This recipe calls for two pots of water for cooking the polenta: one for the initial stage when the cornmeal is whisked into hot water, and the other for additional water that is added gradually while the polenta cooks to reach the desired thickness. Having less water in the first stage helps the cornmeal reach a creamier consistency earlier in the cooking process, so lumps are less likely to form. Once you become familiar with the method and know the thickness you prefer, you won’t need to measure the amount in the second pot. The longer the polenta cooks, the creamier and tastier it becomes (up to a point). The recommended cooking time here is merely the minimum required for the polenta to cook through. If you choose to cook it longer, simply add small amounts of hot liquid as necessary to achieve the desired consistency, making sure that you let the polenta absorb all of the liquid before adding more. The method described below can be used to cook other types of meal, including semolina (coarsely ground durum wheat often used to make puddings) and grits (coarsely ground corn, also known as hominy grits).

A well-made risotto is a culinary feat: Small, firm grains of rice float, suspended, in a rich, creamy sauce. When scooped onto a shallow plate or bowl, a good risotto should have a loose consistency, rippling into a tight pool on the plate (it should not be soupy, though). As the Italians say, it should be all’onda, or “with waves.” Unfortunately, many cooks (home and professional) make risottos that are too thick and dense, more like a porridge. But preparing a successful risotto is actually easier to accomplish than you may imagine. It involves no special tricks, just careful observation (and a lot of stirring). Allow your senses—taste, sight, and smell—to tell you when it’s done. The type of rice is critical to the dish. Italian rices, such as Arborio, Carnaroli, or Vialone Nano, are the best choices for the particular composition of starches risotto requires. During cooking, the soft starch on the outside of the grains readily dissolves to form the intrinsic creaminess, while the inside remains al dente (firm “to the tooth”), giving risotto its characteristic bite. Because its flavor will permeate the dish, the liquid used is equally important, and what you use should depend on what else is being added to the dish. Many recipes call for chicken or vegetable stock, but these can prove too overpowering, especially when the dish will be simply seasoned with a handful each of cheese and herbs, as in the recipe below. So instead, the recipe calls for a simple broth that incorporates some of the ingredients used to flavor the dish, here celery, carrot, onion, garlic, and parsley. Likewise, for a shrimp risotto, you could make a broth by combining the shells with lemons and herbs; or you could sauté or roast the bones from meat, fish, or chicken and then simmer them with water. If you prefer deeper flavor, follow this same principle to enrich existing chicken or vegetable stocks for using in risotto. Making a risotto is a lot like making a stew: First, you begin by sautéing an aromatic ingredient. Then the rice is stirred in and toasted to give it a nutty flavor (similar to pilafs) and to loosen some of its starch. After a few minutes, as you stir, the grains eventually become slightly more translucent and they begin making a clicking noise, which tells you it’s time to add the wine. When the wine is stirred in, the rice releases a bit more starch, turning the liquid slightly milky, a sign of the creaminess to come. Once the wine is absorbed, the stock is added, ladleful by ladleful. Near-constant stirring will ensure that the rice cooks evenly and helps release the soft starch on the outside of the grains. The final step of any great risotto is to “mount” it with butter, which gives the risotto richness, and to add in any final seasonings (in this case, grated cheese, freshly ground pepper, and parsley), just before serving. In certain regions of northern Italy, the risotto method is used to cook other grains, such as farro, an ancient grain with a nutty taste. It will produce a dish with a slightly chewier and less creamy texture (see the farro variation with wild mushroom see below).

Vegetable stock is an essential ingredient in many vegetarian soups, but it also provides incomparable flavor to many well-loved vegetable (but not necessarily meat-free) soups such as this one. Minestrone has become so familiar in the American kitchen that it might be easy to forget its Italian origins. But the name—minestre is the word for soup, while the suffix (-one) indicates bigness—hints at its universal appeal as a simple pantry-based soup that is also hearty and substantial. The foundation of flavor, called a soffritto, is a common element in soup-making: a trio of celery, carrots, and onion is sautéed first, then stock and more vegetables are added and slowly simmered to coax out their flavors. Beans are what distinguish minestrone from other vegetable soups; the type varies by region, as does the addition (if any) of pasta or rice (this version has neither). The beans are also what give the soup such heft, making it a good option for a meatless one-pot dish (if you leave out the prosciutto) that can stand as the centerpiece of any casual dinner. The beans need to soak overnight in the refrigerator, so plan accordingly. Then they need to boil for at least a half hour, so use that time to prepare the rest of the ingredients for the soffritto and soup.

Everything I know about pasta I learned from working with Mario and his team of chefs at Del Posto, Babbo, and Lupa. Through them, my eyes were opened to the beauty and complexity of pasta. At the Pizzeria, Nancy had already elevated pizza to exactly where she wanted it to be, and after my Del Posto experience, I knew I wanted to do the same thing at the Osteria with pasta. I can only hope that I have done “the family” justice, both in our pasta program at Mozza and with my attempts to pass that along to you.