Pork

Juicy pork chops, smothered with slowly cooked onions and topped with melted cheese, are certain to make mouths water. You can prepare these in advance—browning the chops and cooking the onions—then complete the skillet cooking and baking as your guests are seated. Thick chops from the pork loin are my favorite, and the ones used in the recipe. Leaner rib chops will work as well but should be cooked a few minutes less.

This ragù, in the tradition of Potenza (the capital of Basilicata), is a versatile sauce, equally delicious with cooked grains such as farro, wheat berries, or barley, or as a dressing for almost any pasta you choose. This recipe gives a combination I particularly love, with cooked farro stirred into the pot of ragù just before serving. The nuttiness of the grain and the earthiness of the pork sauce are flavors that remind me of the bountiful Sunday and holiday dinners that are traditional in the lower part of the peninsula. And though it is a dish steeped in old traditions, it is healthful and economical, and will certainly shine on today’s table, for any occasion.

This is one of those bountiful braises that you make when you want to delight a big table of family or friends, offering them an assortment of tender meats and pasta dressed with the braising sauce. Like other slowly cooked braises, this gives you two courses from one saucepan. Serve pasta dressed with the meaty-tasting tomato sauce as a first course—there’s enough to dress 2 pounds of rigatoni. And then serve the pork, veal, and sausage as a second course. Of course, you don’t have to serve it all for the same meal. Use half the sauce to dress a pound of pasta, freeze the rest, and you have a future meal all ready to go. And after serving the ragù, take any leftover bits and pieces of meat, shred and chop them up, clean the meat from the veal-chop bone, and blend all of it in with any leftover sauce. I bet you’ll have enough sauce with meaty morsels for a lasagna or other baked pasta—yet another meal from that one big braising pan.

I love ground-meat sauces that cook slowly for hours, allowing an exchange of flavors between the meat, cooking liquids, and seasonings and concentrating them into a dense, delicious dressing. Emilia-Romagna is famous for such sauces, the classic Ragù alla Bolognese (page 382) and Ragù di Carni Bianche (page 137) among them. This Abruzzese sauce is quite similar in its procedures, though it uses only pork rather than a mixture of ground meats. It also has some of the typical flavoring touches of the region, notably a generous dash of peperoncino and a greater volume of tomatoes, rendering it a bit more acidic and definitely more lively than a conventional, mellow Bolognese. It’s a great dressing for homemade maccheroni alla chitarra, and wonderful with other pastas, too. At home, whenever I’m preparing a dish like this that takes a long time—and yields such delicious results—I make more of it than I need for one occasion. Another great, effortless meal is a good reward for the hours and effort devoted to cooking the sauce. That’s why I have formulated this recipe to yield enough ragù to dress a pound of maccheroni or other pasta on the day it is cooked, with an equal amount to pack away in the freezer.

Here is another gem from the treasure of pork dishes I found in Umbria, especially around Norcia. Like the preceding recipe for sausages and grapes, this calls for a leisurely approach to cooking, slowly caramelizing the pork and building a fantastic glaze for the chops, with the mingled flavors of lemon, peperoncini, capers, and wine. I always prefer chops on the bone, but you can make this recipe with boneless pork-loin cutlets as well. Since they are usually thinner, they’ll need less cooking time, though gentle and slow browning is still called for. I like to accompany these with an intensely flavored vegetable such as braised broccoli di rape or mashed parsnips (or both!).

In Umbria, small meatballs are often served simply, floating in a bowl of hot chicken broth. This is a fine custom, in my opinion: it makes the soup more special and substantial, and the broth enhances the carefully homemade meatballs. The diminutive pork-and-veal polpette in this recipe incorporate small amounts of plump raisins, pine nuts, and orange zest—delicate flavors that might be overwhelmed by bold pasta sauce but stand out in a spoonful of light, clear broth. You can either fry or poach the meatballs (the fried have more flavor; the poached are healthier), but either way they are delicious.

In a traditional Ragù alla Bolognese (page 382), the ground meats are slowly cooked with tomatoes and red wine and stock, developing a velvety texture and deep, rich flavor. This “white” ragù streamlines the process and omits most of the tomato, producing a lighter and more delicate sauce with much of the complexity of the classic Bolognese. (And if you want to make it even lighter, you might use ground rabbit meat or turkey or chicken in place of the chopped beef.) Typically used to dress fresh tagliatelle, ragù di carni bianche is also delicious as a sauce for other pastas, lasagna, polenta, and gnocchi. This recipe makes enough sauce to dress two batches of my fresh tagliatelle; use half the sauce for one dinner, and freeze the rest for a great meal to come.

Summer isn't the only time to enjoy sticky ribs— these baby backs, showered with citrus zest, also work well in winter. You can customize the size of the zest by using a Microplane for smaller pieces or a 5-hole zester for longer strips.

It is no coincidence that in Chinese, the word for "family" (jia) is the same as the word for "home"; home is a central part of family life in China. Parents, children, mothers-in-law, grandparents, and other family members often all live together for generations, taking care of one another. Jiaozi, or classic Chinese dumplings, is a dish that celebrates this supportive community. Often made at holidays, these labor-intensive dumplings are prepared in an assembly line, with the greatest to the least in the family all having a hand in their production. The process starts when wheat dough is kneaded, rolled flat into teacup-size circles, and stacked as dumpling wrappers. The next person in the line spoons a pork or vegetable filling (depending on the recipe) in the center of each wrap before passing them on to the "crimper." My first experience making jiaozi was at the house of one of my professors, Mr. Zhang. Having been invited to dinner, I was surprised when Mr. Zhang put me to work in the kitchen. I was the "crimper," charged with folding and crimping the edge of the dumpling wrappers to form plump, sealed pockets of goodness ready to be thrown into a boiling pot. That night, in the room full of brothers, sisters, cousins, and grandparents who were not my own, all of us working together to make jiaozi, I felt more like family than simply a guest in the Zhang home. Invite your friends and family over and put them to work. We like to make more dumplings than we can eat and freeze the extra for later. If you throw all the freshly made dumplings into a plastic bag, they will freeze stuck together into one giant block of dumplings. To avoid this, first spread out the uncooked dumplings on a lightly greased baking sheet, taking care that they do not touch each other. Place the sheet in the freezer for about 30 minutes. Then throw all the dumplings into a large resealable plastic bag and store in the freezer. When you are ready to eat them, do not defrost the dumplings, but cook them frozen exactly like you would fresh dumplings—just add 3 minutes to the cooking time.

Treat this recipe as a basic template from which to have a blast mixing and matching different meats with different cheeses. The Parmesan is a must and not an option to switch out; it's the magic ingredient that will make the meat more savory and any cheese you stuff in your slider taste cheesier.
The recipe can be halved or doubled easily, so if there are a lot of kids in your crowd, you might want to cut back on the number you make. If a bunch of your drinking buddies are on their way over, however, you'll likely want to do 1 1/2 times the recipe, or even double it.
We've given you suggestions for toppers and meat-and-cheese combinations, but those are just ideas to get your imagination going. If the weather is cooperative, fire up your grill, but if you are grill-less, the broiler does a fine job. Any which way you do it, you can't help but have fun!

We remember falling in love with a photograph of petits farcis in an old issue of Cuisine e Vins de France We're sure that most chefs of our age who dreamed of cooking professionally since childhood feel the same when they open a vintage copy of Cuisine et Vins de France, or of Georges Blanc's De La Vigne à l'Assiette. There is not greater food era than when Michel Guérard, Bernard Loiseau, Paul Bocuse, Alain Chapel, Georges Blanc and Roger Vergé were at the top. Petits Farcis are vegetables stuffed with sausage mix, then baked and eaten lukewarm. We make them in the summer when the growers show up with pattypan squashes. What else are you supposed to do with those little squashes other than admire them? The stuffed vegetables are awesome with a mâche salad and partner perfectly with a nice rosé or pastis. Get the smallest vegetables you can find, about the size of a gold ball.

Even though peameal has nothing to do with the bacon we know and love, many still refer to it as "Canadian bacon." They call it that in Canada, the place on both sides of Quebec—joking, joking....Part of the history of Montreal is an overdramatized opposition to Toronto. Maybe it's hockey, maybe it's the separatist thing, or maybe it's just a friendly rivalry. Regardless, we love Toronto. It's where our favorite butcher, Stephen Alexander, has his shops (Cumbrae's) and it's the national capital of oyster bars (Rodney's, Oyster Boy, Starfish). It's also home to Kids in the Hall, John Candy, the Black Hoof, and, of course, the Saint Lawrence Market, where you can get a peameal bacon bun with maple mustard. Peameal is not made with peas anymore. Like most aspects of life, ranging from food to plastic, peameal is being taken over by corn. We make our peameal with dried yellow peas crushed in the processor. The purpose of peas or cornmeal is to wick and dry, thus preventing spoilage. You will let the meat brine for a minimum of four full days, ninety-six hours, in the fridge. It is necessary to have a brine injector; they sell them nowadays for under ten bucks in big stores.

Forgo the old-school crown roast by arranging two pork rib roasts with the bones crisscrossed like a military honor-guard salute. Ask your butcher to french the bones by removing excess fat and muscle for a more elegant presentation.

It's good news for America that grass-fed beef is increasingly available in supermarkets. Cattle were meant to eat grass, and they are efficient at converting that green goodness into nutrient-dense meat, rich in heart-healthy omega-3 fatty acids as well as vitamins A and E, to say nothing of environmental benefits. Because grass-fed beef is leaner than grain-fed, it's not quite as tender. So turning it into a meatloaf is a great—and economical—way to make a meal of it. A little ground pork adds the bit of richness that all meatloaves need, and if you can persuade the butcher to grind some pork shoulder for you, all the better. Meatloaves look naked without some sort of topping, and bacon is the obvious trendy choice to entice finicky eaters; feel free to aim for high-end bacon from heritage hogs. Editors' Note: Kemp Minifie reimagined the foil tray frozen dinner for Gourmet Live. Her updated menu includes: meatloaf made from grass-fed beef, scalloped potatoes, lemony green veggies, and your new favorite brownies for dessert.

The acidity of the tomatillos beautifully balances the fat of the pork shoulder, so when serving the tacos there is no need for lime wedges. The onion and additional cilantro provide crunch and fragrance.

My editor, Maria Guarnaschelli, suggested this recipe, based on her memory of a savory pie served at a London pub. One half of the pie was filled with pork and the other with apples. As I later learned, that dish has its roots in an eighteenth-century workingman's lunch called the Bedfordshire Clanger—a hand-held pie filled with meat on one end and jam on the other. It was a compact way to serve lunch and dessert in one package. In adapting this idea to my own taste, I decided to layer apples on top of a spiced ground pork filling, rather than setting the two ingredients side by side. The flavors are fantastic together, and this dish has been the hit of many parties. It makes an especially good buffet option, as it can be served warm or at room temperature. Apple Notes: As with all pie recipes, you want firm fruit here. Some good examples: Granny Smith, Arkansas Black, and Northern Spy for tart apples; and Golden Delicious, Jazz, or Pink Lady for sweet ones. Equipment: 10- to 12-inch skillet; food processor; 9-inch deep-dish pie plate, preferably glass; parchment paper or wax paper

The great thing about making chef Chang's fiery cuisine at home is that you control the heat with the chili oil and Sichuan peppercorns. They give this dish its distinctive color, flavor, and heat.

Stuff, roll, and wrap the butterflied pork loin one day ahead. Then, two hours before the party, roast the pork on a bed of apples, which serves as a natural rack and adds sweetness to the cider jus. Don't sweat the technique: Ask your butcher to trim and butterfly a pork loin for you, or go to bonappetit.com/go/porkloin for step-by-step photographs to learn how to butterfly and roll this beauty yourself.