Italian

People can never seem to get enough pizza, and how many a pizza will serve depends on the heartiness of the toppings, the thickness of the crust, and whether you’re serving anything along with it. But I’ve found generally that this dough recipe will make two twelve- or thirteen-inch pizzas and that pizzas made with the following toppings will serve at least four people.

Like most bean dishes this puree is best if you use freshly cooked dried beans, but it is still good with canned beans. One-quarter pound of dried beans will yield about one cup, the amount needed for this recipe, although you can double the quantities if you like. If you use dried beans, cook them in unsalted water to cover (presoaking is unnecessary), with a couple of bay leaves, until very tender. If you use canned beans, you’ll need almost a full fifteen-ounce can to get one cup (there’s a lot of water in those cans).

Although I was told this dish—beautifully browned sausages nestled on a bed of grapes in varying stages of doneness, some lightly browned, some collapsed, some whole and nearly raw—is Umbrian in origin, it seems as if many workers of the land who produced sausages and picked grapes would have created this, even if by accident, no matter where they lived. It is an often overlooked recipe in cookbooks, perhaps because there’s almost nothing to it. In any case, the wonderful marriage is incredibly easy to produce and easily worked into anyone’s repertoire. With good bread and a salad, you’ve got a great weeknight meal in about half an hour.

There is no promise of speed here: osso buco takes time. But this classic Italian dish of glorious, marrow-filled veal shanks (the name means “bone with hole”), braised until they are fork-tender, is dead easy to make and requires a total of no more than fifteen or twenty minutes of attention during its two hours or so of cooking. And it holds well enough overnight so that 90 percent of the process can be accomplished while you’re watching television the night before you serve the dish. Though I’ll concede that starting with good-quality stock will yield the richest sauce, I’ll volunteer that two hours of cooking veal shanks—which are, after all, veal bones—creates a very nice stock with no work, so I never hesitate to make osso buco with white wine or even water. Try to buy slices of shank taken from the center, about one and a half inches thick. The slices from the narrow end have very little meat on them; those from the thick end contain little or no marrow. Center cuts give you the best of both worlds, though you shouldn’t let it stop you if they are unavailable.

This Shrimp dish is based on a combination of ingredients traditionally used to cook tripe in and around Rome. It’s a simple tomato sauce spiked with the powerful flavors of browned garlic, chiles, and mint. When you make it with tripe, it must cook a long time for the tripe to become tender; when you use shrimp, the dish is practically done as soon as the shrimp are added.

If Stracciatella is egg drop soup’s less-well-known cousin, avgolemono is its neglected stepchild and it can be prepared easily, quickly, and almost effortlessly from ingredients that most of us always have on hand.

Egg Drop Soup, a cliché in American-Chinese restaurants for at least fifty years, has a less-well-known Italian counterpart called stracciatella. Both are based on the simple fact that eggs scramble or curdle in boiling water or stock, and each demonstrates the ease with which a basic dish can be transformed in spirit, moving from one cuisine to the other almost as quickly as you can change your mind about which you prefer.

In Verona, Italy, you can buy bags of I baci di Romeo e Giulietta—chocolate and almond cookies honoring Shakespeare's mythical, star-crossed lovers. I prefer to sandwich these two types of cookies together by sealing the "sighs" and "kisses" with a sweet filling. You will need two sets of mixer bowls and paddle attachments for this recipe.

The name refers to “hunter’s style,” whatever that is supposed to mean. I doubt that hunters in Italy, or anywhere else, ever carried all these ingredients, but this is a traditional southern Italian dish. This is a far better version than those popularized in the sixties, which were essentially chicken with canned tomato sauce. This is great with bread, even better with a simple risotto (page 521).

It’s still rare to see boneless chicken breasts in Italy, probably because people understand how difficult it is to keep them from drying out. The simplest solution is to leave them on the bone, which helps retain moisture (and, arguably, makes for a nicer presentation). This is a nice, simple, fast stovetop braise, especially pleasant in spring and fall. (The first variation, which uses boneless breasts, is even faster.) Fresh herbs are a must. Serve with plain white rice or—even better, of course—any risotto (pages 521–522).

Italians use leaner ducks than we do, so this is a compromise recipe: Italian flavors with American duck. The best Marsala is called vergine. It is really delicious and makes a subtle but real difference here. But standard Marsala will work fine. If you have time, make a quick stock using the duck neck and giblets—just simmer them in water to cover while you are roasting the duck. Then you’ll have it for the final sauce. This would be great with polenta, if you feel like making it (page 529), but also with crusty bread or even plain rice.

A classic Sicilian preparation, with exotic, contrasting flavors. Domesticated rabbit is sold in many supermarkets these days, but since it really does taste like chicken, you can use that if you prefer. Either way, start the meal with a simple pasta dish or serve this with bread and a cooked vegetable.

It’s not much different from an American steak, but the combination of cut (almost always a T-bone, though occasionally you’ll see ribeye), olive oil, and lemon juice marks this preparation as distinctly Tuscan. If you can find a piece of dry-aged prime meat, go for it. I love the combination of steak and bread, and of course tomato or other salad, but you can use any typical steak side dishes you like—even in Italy they might serve this with French fries.

You will need two ovenproof skillets or a skillet and a couple of bricks or rocks to use this simple, wonderful method, which yields crisp, delicious skin and succulent meat. As a bonus, much of the chicken’s own moisture remains at the bottom of the pan and produces a perfect natural sauce. You can buy split chickens at most supermarkets, or any butcher will split it for you. You can also do it yourself: use a knife or poultry shears to cut out the backbone, then press down on the breast to flatten it.

These rolls take some time and require a bit of assembly—not that there’s anything especially challenging—so I always feel like if I’m going to bother with them, I might as well make a big batch and double the amounts here. In any case, you can prepare the rolls in advance and cook them just before serving. I cook the rolls in a mixture of stock and wine (you could use either instead of both), but many cooks use a light tomato sauce for simmering, like Fast, Fresh Tomato Sauce (page 606). The filling can be varied, too: substitute ground pork or pork sausage for the mushrooms or use a bit of mozzarella instead of or along with the Parmesan. Other cuts of meat you can use here: cutlets of chicken, turkey, pork, or even beef (see Negima, page 102).

Simple skewers brushed, after grilling, with an easy, traditional Sicilian sauce. Grill some vegetables at the same time if you like. For an indoor version, see the variation.