Italian

Panna cotta is a no-brainer, sweetened cream thickened with gelatin. It has long been made with whatever dairy is around, and I think it’s far better when a certain amount of the cream is replaced by buttermilk. The result is more complex and not so stultifyingly rich.

This is quite possibly the simplest dessert “recipe” imaginable: vanilla ice cream doused with coffee. The dessert probably originated in Turin, an important city for both coffee and ice cream, and is served in bars there all over town.

“Bones of the Dead”—long-lasting cookies that will keep for about a month in an airtight container.They’re easy, sweet, and great with a cup of espresso. Flavor with vanilla, almond, cinnamon, or nothing at all.

The familiar zwiebacklike cookie originated not at Starbucks but in Italy, where it is nowhere near as popular as it is in the States. Still, it’s nice to have a bunch around, and they keep far better than regular cookies, up to a week in an airtight container. Increase the sugar to a cup if you like your biscotti sweet. These may be made, of course, without nuts, with lemon instead of orange, or with added ingredients like raisins or even chocolate chips.

The classic recipe for steaming clams and a good topping for pasta. In Italy, the smallest clams possible are used—with shells often not much bigger than your thumbnail—and here the best to use for that purpose are tiny little necks, mahogany clams, or cockles. When buying hardshell clams, make sure the shells are undamaged and tightly shut; this means the clams are alive. The only remaining challenge is to make sure the clam shells are entirely free of sand (you need not worry about the interior; that’s the advantage of these clams over steamers). Wash the shells well and even scrub them if necessary. If any clams remain closed after cooking, simply pry them open with a knife or your fingers.

Like Tempura (page 91), the Fritto Misto batter and technique can be used with almost any morsel of food. An old-fashioned Fritto Misto might have bits of veal or other meat, frog’s legs, cock’s combs, artichoke hearts, chanterelles or other mushrooms, zucchini or other vegetables, pieces of cheese, and, of course, fish. These days, it seems most people—including me—like a fish-based Fritto Misto, with perhaps a few pieces of vegetable thrown in. I have some suggestions here, but please use whatever you like. Because you’ll have to fry in batches, and because it’s good only when very hot, it’s best to serve Fritto Misto as an appetizer and usually only to those guests who are willing to stand around in the kitchen. I don’t think Fritto Misto needs more than fresh lemon as a “sauce,” but you can use aïoli or even a light tomato sauce if you like.

Best made with the hearts of fresh artichokes, but that is an expensive, time-consuming, and labor-intensive route. I won’t say frozen artichoke hearts are just as good, but they are worth using, and that’s what most people do—increasingly, even in Italy. The tenderness and subtle flavor of the vegetable still comes through. I like to fry these in olive oil, but it’s not essential.

Needless to say, you can put these in almost any tomato sauce (pages 606–607) and use them for spaghetti and meatballs. But they’re often served in Italy as a small first course, sometimes over cabbage. I like the combination of veal and pork best, but you can use any combination you like or even all beef.

The most exciting pissaladière I ever had was served it the open-air market in the heart of old Nice. It was baked in a wood-burning oven a few blocks away, sent to the market by bicycle, and eaten standing up or at picnic tables shaded by huge awnings. The wedges were gently sweet and intensely salty; the crust, just a half inch thick, was perfumed with the local olive oil and was perfectly browned and crisp. It was so simple—mostly just sweet onions on a wonderful crust. You can make a wonderful pissaladière at home: just be sure to cook the onions very, very slowly.

A Roman treat and a fine use for leftover rice (especially risotto). Formally called supplì al telefono because the stringy mozzarella center stretches when you bite through the center and is reminiscent of telephone wires, this is a snack, or a very informal starter. If you use packaged bread crumbs, make sure they’re unseasoned.

Carpaccio, now a staple at many high-end restaurants, even non-Italian ones, is a glorified version of this Piemontese specialty (in Tuscany and other parts of central Italy, an even simpler plate of cured meats is served routinely), which will provide a vibrant beginning to any dinner party. This dish depends on the flavor of olive oil, so break out the good stuff. The meat will be easier to cut into small pieces if you put it in the freezer for about half an hour first to firm it up a bit.

It’s not entirely clear that this preparation originated in Italy, since portobellos pretty much surfaced (no pun intended) at the same time throughout most of the Western world; but at least it’s an Italian-style preparation. In any case, while we are accustomed to eating these large, dark, meaty mushrooms grilled or sautéed, they are also excellent served raw, as they are here, on Crostini (page 41) or in a salad.

The artichoke is in the thistle family. One medium to large artichoke will yield approximately 2 ounces of delicious edible flesh. An artichoke is fresh when it squeaks as you squeeze it, and feels heavy in your hand for its size. Look for a deep olive green on the outside, and pale tender green on the inside of the petals. Artichokes will last fresh about a week. To store them, sprinkle them with cold water, and refrigerate in an airtight bag. Wash only before using. Italians have endless ways to enjoy artichokes, but I love them in this pasta dish with a little bacon added, a perfect harmony.

Try this recipe for a delicious Italian rendition of mashed potatoes. I recall that my grandma would fork-mash boiled potatoes, drizzle some extra-virgin olive oil, and sprinkle with coarse sea salt. Here I added some roasted garlic cloves, very much an Italian American favorite.

I found versions of this dish on menus across America, Italian and non-Italian. I guess everybody loves its appealing flavors. It is delicious made with frozen peas, but when I was a child, my grandma made it only with the sweetest first pods of peas. I also remember that it was my job to shell them, and I ate quite a few of those raw peas. Pancetta is pork belly cured with salt, pepper, and other seasonings, then made into a roll, but not smoked like bacon. You can substitute bacon or Canadian bacon for the pancetta, and substitute fresh peas for frozen.

I recall having a version of this dish in Greece, and I am sure the Greeks brought it to Sicily, and I am sure the Sicilians brought it to America. I have found it at weddings and on the menus of Italian restaurants across America. It is a great dish for a large party and for a buffet table. I like it best hot out of the oven, but it is also good at room temperature. “Eggplant” is a misnomer: the vegetable is neither white nor shaped like an egg. However, the first eggplants to arrive in Europe were a rare oval-shaped white variety, and the name stuck. When buying eggplants, look for even color and firm feel. The eggplant should be heavy relative to its size; when you pick it up at the market, it should be firm and crisp, not spongy, to the touch.

Escarole is a big ingredient in the Italian American pantry, so one will see it frequently on an Italian American table. Escarole has always been abundant in American markets, whereas the dark-green vegetables such as chicory and broccoli rabe made their appearance much later. The usual recipe for sautéed escarole is scarola strascinata, “dragged” in the pan with garlic and oil. In this rendition, the addition of anchovies and black olives makes it more festive and gives the dish more complexity.

Everything tastes better with bacon, and so does spinach. The Italians often use rendered pieces of pancetta or prosciutto to flavor their vegetables, especially the winter vegetables such as chicory, kale, Savoy cabbage, cauliflower, and the like.

Italians love fennel, finocchio, but Americans are just getting familiar with it. It is terrific raw, and in Piedmont is dipped raw into hot oil with anchovies. It is also great served solo as a braised vegetable. I love the hint of anise flavor in it, as well as the crunchy crack under my teeth when I eat it raw as a snack. The crumbled sausages make this a very flavorful vegetable dish that can also be used to dress pasta. It can be made in advance, keeps well, and reheats well. What more could you ask of a vegetable?