Potato

It’s actually worth making too much cabbage (and some extra potatoes) just to be able to make this British dish. It’s traditionally made with vegetables left over from your Sunday dinner, so there’s no need to stress about the amounts. And feel free to throw in other cooked veggies like carrots, peas, and rutabagas. If the name doesn’t work for you, perhaps you’d prefer to look up a recipe for a similar Scottish dish called rumbledethumps! 4 tablespoons butter

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 grew up on Swiss chard, but in the United States it has only become a popular part of the leafy-vegetables section in markets during the last ten years. I love the vegetable: I love cooking with it and using it in soups, as well as in pastas, risottos, and fish dishes. To me, everything is good when served with Swiss chard. This simple dish is a family recipe my grandmother made for us, and it is still a favorite at our table. The children love it as well.

Potato croquettes are not served much in Italy, except around Rome. When I first began working in Italian American restaurants, potato croquettes were always paired with a vegetable as a side dish. I grew fond of the dish, I guess, because it combines two things Americans love: mashed potatoes and fried things.

Everybody loves roasted potatoes, and these have a Mediterranean twist—lots of garlic and rosemary. The aroma of roasted rosemary in my mind conjures up images of big roasted meats and holidays, so whenever I make this dish it feels like a holiday to me.

At our home, when we were newly arrived immigrants, for Sunday dinner it was either gnocchi or garganelli with sugo. The sugo, a rich sauce, was made of either chicken or cubed veal or pork—all second cuts of meat—which created a first-class sauce. The sugo does take two to three hours to make, so, if you have no time for the sugo and have a good piece of Gorgonzola, try this sauce. It will take no more than ten minutes once you have the gnocchi done.

This chicken dish is a signature Italian dish from Chicago. Just about every Italian restaurant in Chicago has some rendition of it. Traditionally made on Sundays, it is a whole chicken cut up in pieces with potatoes, peppers, peas, and lots of garlic and oregano. We have a similar chicken dish in our family, Grandma’s “chicken and potatoes.” At our house, it is everybody’s favorite, and we do make it on most Sundays.

Italians eat a lot of lamb, especially in the spring and summer. I recall that on every major holiday I would always see the whole animal slowly turning on the spit, and it was indeed delicious. I particularly liked to nibble on the rib bones, and my second-favorite was part of the shoulder blade. But when there was no holiday, the slaughtered animals were butchered and sold and enjoyed as lamb shanks, chops, and stews. For this dish, either the boneless shoulder meat or boneless leg of lamb could be used, but the shoulder is more economical, and I am sure this cut is what the Italian immigrants used. In this slow cooking process, the flavors harmonize and the meat becomes fork-tender.

This is one of those one pot meals that bring spice and a lot of flavor to the table. It is a traditional method of cooking and combining ingredients, especially in southern Italy, and many restaurants have it on their menus, especially those in the Little Italys across America. This method of adding the cherry peppers, potatoes, and vinegar can be used with chicken or rabbit, too. The spice gives the dish its “capricious” name.

Just down Smallman Street from our Lidia’s restaurant, I have serious sandwich competition in Primanti’s, a Pittsburgh institution. I am charmed by their incredibly oversized warm capicola sandwich stuffed with French fries and coleslaw. I am not sure where in the U.S.A. this tradition of stuffing a sandwich with French fries became Italian, but the sandwich was so tall that I could not open my mouth wide enough to get my first bite. Primanti’s started as a sandwich pushcart, manned by Joe Primanti, in the Strip in the 1930s, selling sandwiches to truck drivers. One night, a trucker wanted to check if his load of frozen potatoes were good, so Joe Primanti cooked them up. Customers began asking for them, and to expedite the service they were added to the sandwich.

Known as pasta fazool in the Italian American community, this is the cornerstone of Italian soup-making. This recipe traveled easily from Italy along with the early immigrants. Beans and the other ingredients were easy to find, and the technique they used was just like back home. An inexpensive, nutritious soup, it cooked by itself while the woman of the house did her chores. Some options to vary this soup would be to purée part or all of the beans after they have been cooked, and before you add the pasta. This is the version kids love, and it is also used in restaurants for a seemingly elegant touch, although I like to bite into my beans. I also substitute rice or barley for the pasta, a common practice in the north of Italy, where rice is abundant.

I got this recipe from Guido Pezzini, the patriarch at Pezzini Farms in Castroville, California, who claims that just about every dish his mother cooked included artichokes in some form. This soup is one of his favorites. The Pezzinis are a delightful and caring family, with Sean, the grandson, as the next generation in training.

Every region of Italy has its version of minestrone. The Italian American version seems always to have diced carrots, celery, potatoes, beans, and cabbage, rendering it distinct, with a touch of sour aftertaste. Variations include vegetables that were readily available in the small gardens Italian immigrants kept in their backyards or window boxes. Italian Americans love their minestrone so much that in 1949, Progresso Quality Foods began selling minestrone, as well as pasta e fagioli, in cans as a convenience food. At first the soup was available only in Italian American markets, but soon enough it hit mainstream America.

Baccalà, or salt cod, has a long tradition on the Italian table, and since it traveled well, immigrants brought it with them to the New World, where they used it as barter as well as for cooking. (One need only notice how popular baccalà is in Caribbean cultures.) The Italian immigrants have made baccalà a big part of the Italian American table, especially around the holidays. This simple salad recipe will satisfy any baccalà nostalgia, holiday or no holiday.

I’ve often spoken of all the interesting and wonderful people who cross my path. Well, Wayne Brokke is one of those people. Wayne had seen me on QVC several times, and when the opportunity arose for a trip to Savannah, he made a special point of coming in to meet me. We had a great time getting to know each other. Wayne is the owner of Wayne’s Bar-B-Que in Baltimore, where he also does cooking segments for a local television station. When I mentioned to Wayne that I was writing another cookbook, he graciously offered to share a few of his recipes. They are Wayne’s Cranberry Sauce, and the following recipe, which is a five-time winner of the Maryland Old Bay Soupstakes Critics and People’s Choice Award. Thanks, Wayne, and continued good luck to you!