Onion

A tian is a Provençal creation named for the traditional earthenware baking dish. Be sure to drizzle generously with oil to impart flavor and keep the vegetables from drying out (remember, there’s no other liquid in a tian); you can spoon off excess oil after cooking.

In many Asian cuisines, a common way to steam whole fish (usually surrounded by aromatics) is on a plate that is customarily set in a very large wok. The plate captures the juices that collect during cooking and create a flavorful broth. You can set the platter in a roasting pan if the fish is quite large, but use a wok if yours will accommodate. You‘ll have about a cup of broth after the fish has finished cooking, so use a platter deep enough to hold it. Then, be sure to drizzle some over each serving. Set out bowls of steamed rice and bok choy or wilted spinach along with more Asian fish sauce, a traditional table condiment.

Unlike most other vegetables, tomatoes release a lot of moisture as they cook, so there’s no need to completely submerge them in the oil (or added liquid). It is this “cooking in its own juices” that makes this dish a “confit” (see page 232). Because this technique cooks out most of the moisture from the vegetables, it concentrates the sugars, for a sweet, jamlike condiment to serve with roasted, grilled, or sautéed meats (such as the calf’s liver on page 253). While the confit cooks, stir very gently, or the tomatoes and onions may fall apart.

This recipe makes good use of a bone-in cut that takes very well to braising. The ribs are marinated overnight in red wine to give them a deep flavor, then the marinade is reduced to a sauce that glazes the meat. You will need to start with more liquid than in other braising recipes, to avoid having to turn the ribs frequently during cooking, but this leaves excess liquid that must be reduced separately later, before it can be used for glazing (all that reducing is advantageous, since it concentrates the flavors for a rich and unctuous sauce). To do this, use a technique called depouillage, whereby the pan is placed off-center over the burner as the liquid simmers, allowing the impurities to collect on one side for easy skimming and discarding.

Consommer means “to accomplish” or “to finish” in French, and consommé is indeed a “finished” stock. (In a culinary context, one could say that to make a consommé is to bring out in full all of the flavors.) What gives consommé its purity and clarity is a bit of culinary magic: Egg whites (combined with mirepoix and ground meat) coagulate in the soup and rise to the top (forming a “raft”), drawing up any impurities that would otherwise cloud the stock. This mixture also infuses the broth with deeper flavor, as does an onion brûlé (or charred onion), which imparts deeper color to the broth. After an hour or two of simmering, the raft is also discarded, leaving behind a clear, intense broth. Consommé can be served either hot or cold, usually garnished in some way or another (there are literally hundreds employed in formal French cuisine); one of the more common embellishments is vegetables cut into julienne or brunoise (page 14), such as the blanched carrot and leek shown here.

For true vegetarian soups, stews, and other dishes (such as risotto), vegetable stock is a flavorful alternative to water and meat-based stocks. Some recipes call for the vegetables in the mirepoix to be added to the simmering liquid without first cooking; others call for them to be sweated first, without browning. In this recipe, the vegetables are lightly browned to give the stock intense flavor. The resulting richness and complexity are particularly important when there is no base of flavor provided by chicken, beef, or fish. You can vary the flavor by increasing the amount of garlic, replacing the carrots with parsnips, or changing some of the fresh herbs for others. Or add any of the following: dried mushrooms, such as porcini or shiitake (no more than two or three, since they can be overpowering), a few corncobs, some chopped tomato (seeded, if desired), or thinly sliced leeks. If the stock will be used to make Italian dishes, add a rind of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese once the water has been added. If making a vegetarian dish with other vegetables, use the scraps to flavor the stock, such as beet greens for beet risotto. But be careful to avoid adding anything that is less than fresh or that has too strong a flavor, such as most cruciferous vegetables (including broccoli, cauliflower, and cabbage).

One of the best reasons to make your own basic brown stock is that it means French onion soup from scratch is within easy reach. (You can also make the soup with white beef stock, page 42.) Like many other bistro classics, French onion soup has humble origins as a staple of thrifty households, where a pot of stock—itself born of frugality—was the foundation for many family meals. Even those with limited resources could make soupe a l’oignon since it calls for little else: pounds of inexpensive and readily available onions, a crusty baguette (providing a way to use up day-old bread), and a chunk of sharp Gruyère cheese, grated to turn a little into a lot. Because there are so few components, each one is enhanced in some way to contribute to the final dish. The homemade stock provides both color and robust taste, as well as ensuring a silky consistency. Caramelizing the onions gives them a wonderful sweetness (and more dark brown color). Toasted bread adds a textural note, while gratinéed cheese introduces another pleasing component. Similar to the burnt-sugar shell atop crème brûlée, the molten, golden crown invites tucking into with a spoon. This recipe can be halved, but since the soup freezes well, it is worth making the full amount.

Years ago I discovered a little place in San Francisco that made the most delicious green onion focaccia that I loved and never forgot. When the Pizzeria was conceived, I knew I wanted to offer one with green onions in memory of that one. In trying to invent my green onion pizza, I remembered my days at Spago, where they made a goat cheese and red pepper pizza that was really popular. Goat cheese and bacon is a great combination, as is goat cheese and browned garlic. And then there were those green onions . . . That mishmash of inspirations is how this pizza came to be. The garlic is the same that we use in the Olives al Forno (page 37). While you’re at it, you might want to make enough for both, since the olives would be a great accompaniment to a pizza party.

This is my number-one favorite Pizzeria Mozza pizza, and it’s a direct rip-off of the Norcia pizza they serve at Pellicano. Sausage and panna, or cream, is a classic combination in Umbria. The summer I discovered this pizza I ordered it every time I went to Pellicano, in an effort to figure out what was in the white sauce that was smeared on the crust. When I asked, they told me “panna.” I knew panna was cream, but I couldn’t understand how they could put cream on pizza. Finally, I went back to the kitchen to see for myself, and what I saw was that the cream had been whipped, making it spreadable. Whipping cream for a pizza was such a foreign idea to me that when I started playing with pizzas for the restaurant, I tried to avoid it. I made this pizza with crème fraîche and later with mascarpone—anything not to put whipped cream on a pizza—but the whipped cream was definitely the best.

What I like most about this mussels preparation is that they are not simply steamed in white wine, like the vast majority of mussels you see in restaurants. We cook them with a light tomato sauce—and, yes, also white wine—and toss in piles of herbs after the mussels are cooked, so the herbs wilt only slightly. The finished dish manages to be original and familiar at the same time. It also couldn’t be easier to make.

When you read “Long-cooked Broccoli,” note that this is distinctly different from the soggy, overcooked broccoli that you might remember from the school cafeteria. Here, the broccoli is cooked deliberately long and slow—almost poached—in olive oil with a lot of onion and garlic. Cooking it this way makes the broccoli tender, buttery, and flavorful. It’s one of my all-time favorite vegetable preparations. We use it to top the Long-cooked Broccoli, Caciocavallo, and Peperoncino pizza (page 146), and we also offer it as an antipasto at the Pizzeria.

Cipolline are small, flat, sweet Italian onions. This agrodolce preparation of cipolline is one of the staples of my Umbrian tavola, and the most popular contorno at the Osteria, I think in part because onions go with so many main dishes, and they are also easy to share. My dad orders them every time he comes to the restaurant. I think he could make a meal of nothing but these onions followed by a perfectly pulled espresso. In the summer when I can find them, I use long, red torpedo onions in place of cipolline.

One of my favorite daytrips from my house in Italy is to the town of Panzano in Chianti, to visit the world-famous butcher Dario Cecchini. Dario has been covered by every food publication imaginable, and since Bill Buford wrote about him in his memoir, Heat, Dario’s shop has become a mecca for foodies traveling in Italy. To meet the demand of his fans, Dario now has three restaurants that people can visit while they’re there: a steakhouse serving prime cuts, such as bistecca fiorentina, a classic preparation of a T-bone or porterhouse grilled over a wood fire; a hamburger restaurant, Dario Plus; and my favorite of the three, Solo Ciccia. This restaurant, whose name means “only meat,” offers lesser cuts of meats prepared in a variety of ways, many of them cooked long and slow, or stracotto, like this dish. Veal breast isn’t something you’ll find at your average grocery store, so you’ll have to get it from a butcher, and you will probably have to special-order it. Ask the butcher to save the bones he carved the breast from, as you’ll use those to make the stock in which the meat is braised. While you’re at it, have him roll and tie the breast for you, too. Even though this might be out of your ordinary shopping routine, the good news is that you’ll end up with a rich, luxurious veal dish for not a lot of money.

I get really excited to be able to offer something that other restaurants are not offering, and that our clientele is not familiar with. So I was really excited when I was introduced to Spaghetti alla Gricia, spaghetti with guanciale and—depending on who you ask—maybe onion on a recent trip to Rome, at a trattoria known for traditional renditions of classic dishes, Al Moro. Alla Gricia is also known as “Amatriciana in bianco” because it is a “white,” tomatoless version of that classic pasta dish. This is one case where I feel that substituting pancetta for guanciale just won’t do. If you can’t get guanciale where you live, find a mail-order source for it. It’s worth it. And until the guanciale is delivered, make something else.

Soffritto is a combination of sautéed onions, celery, and carrots, and it is the base of much Italian cooking. We start many of our dishes by sautéing these ingredients, and then we have this, a very dark soffritto, that we cook for four hours, after which the vegetables are transformed into a rich, thick paste. We make the soffritto in big batches and use it as a starting point for many of our ragùs, such as the duck ragù (see Gnocchi with Duck Ragù, page 187), the wild boar ragù (see Maltagliati with Wild Boar Ragù, page 185), and the ragù bolognese (see Garganelli with Ragù Bolognese, page 189). We also use it to make a rich contorni—Yellow Wax Beans Stracotto in Soffritto with Salsa Verde (page 260)—that we serve in the Osteria. This soffritto might seem oily, but don’t let that scare you as it’s used to start dishes where olive oil would normally be used. At the restaurant, we chop the carrots and celery in a food processor, but we chop the onions by hand to avoid their becoming a watery purée.

This is a neutral chicken stock that doesn’t contain any seasonings other than peppercorns. We keep it simple because we use it in a variety of dishes, each of which will contain its own seasonings. We go through an astonishing amount of this stock and as you cook from this book, you will, too.