Side

You probably have enjoyed grilled corn; you may or may not have tasted a grilled fresh fig. I’m almost sure, however, that you never had them together in one dish. But when late summer brings them to market at the same time, I hope you will try this recipe. It’s a simple one to do ahead: you grill the corn on the cob and then grill the figs (they take barely a minute). You slice off the corn kernels, toss them with the figs, and serve the dish at room temperature. The golden vegetable and dark fruit are a great-tasting and pretty combination just as they are, but if you happen to have some Drizzling Sauce of Balsamic Vinegar already made (or a bottle of balsamic vinegar to reduce), it’s definitely worth applying the final swirl of sauce. The acidic tang sets off the sweetness of all the sugars in the corn and figs, already intensified by the heat of the grill. You can use either a gas or a charcoal grill for this, but keep the fire moderate (and pay attention, especially with the figs) so the sugars are caramelized, not burned.

Green beans are delicious, but they can get boring. But letting a little gorgonzola melt into the beans gives them a marvelous complexity. This is great as an appetizer or a side dish with grilled meats.

One day, when I was wondering what to make with a nice batch of fresh green beans, my daughter Tanya remembered a salad she’d had on a recent trip to Italy—perfectly cooked green beans, cherry tomatoes, basil, and cubes of fresh mozzarella. Because I love to take things a step further, I decided to combine the very same ingredients in a casserole and bake them with a crosta (crust) of bread crumbs and grated cheese. It was wonderful. And it is a fine example of how one simple procedure—baking ingredients coated with cheesy bread crumbs—can work so well with so many foods. The Broccoli and Cauliflower Gratinate (page 243) and the Crispy Baked Turkey Cutlets (page 310) use the same method. Of course, there’s another kitchen principle evident here: good ingredient combination lend themselves to different preparations. If you want to try Tanya’s original salad with green beans, tomatoes, basil, and mozzarella, I give a formula following the main recipe.

These crispy, cheesy, caramelized florets of broccoli and cauliflower are a wonderful mealtime vegetable. But they’re so tempting, easy to pick up and pop in your mouth, that they would make a hard-to-resist impromptu hors d’oeuvre before dinner begins. You can prepare either broccoli or cauliflower alone with this recipe, though a combination is especially colorful. The florets are partly cooked by my covered-skillet method, then tossed with grated cheese and bread crumbs and baked until golden. The cauliflower and broccoli cook at different rates in the skillet, as detailed in the recipe. If you’re preparing just one kind of florets, simply adjust your timing.

Another wonderful way to use bread—something that we always have in abundance in our house, fresh, day-old, and dried—is as an element of many savory dishes. It is used in appetizer gratinate, soups, and salads, and day-old bread is great in desserts. Here bread slices are the base and substance of a summertime vegetable lasagna, in place of pasta. I give you two versions, one with raw zucchini, one with briefly sautéed eggplant slices. Assembly and baking are the same for both. You could multiply the recipe and make this as a big party or picnic dish. It’s wonderful warm or at room temperature as a hearty side dish. To vary: use egg-battered zucchini strips (page 21) for a scrumptious lasagna; or roast the eggplant instead of frying it; or combine zucchini and eggplant (sauté zucchini slices first, though). The good flavor comes from Summer Tomato Sauce. The recipe on page 256 will give you enough for a big casserole and for several pasta dishes too. But you could use other sauces, such as a marinara or a plain tomato sauce.

Potato flour (not potato starch) makes pasta with a delicious and distinctly potato-ey flavor. The dough will feel stiff when just mixed, but after resting it gets soft and easy to roll and cut.

Italians enjoy many traditional foods made with farina di castagne—chestnut flour—especially cakes and sweets. Pasta with part chestnut flour is delicious too, as I hope you will discover. Imported farina di castagne is widely available in specialty markets (and from Web sites).

Flour from dried ceci—the Italian name for garbanzo beans or chickpeas—is one of a number of bean flours with which one can make pasta. Like the others, this yields a good pasta with a different nuance of flavor—complex, buttery, with a tinge of sweetness from the bean. It’s a great carrier for vegetable, game, or nut sauces.

This is one of the oldest pastas in Italy. The Romans would call it lasagnum—wide strips of pasta dressed with honey, cheese, and herbs. I love this pasta. When cooked, it is light and has a silky texture.

For this pasta use instant polenta flour. The cornmeal gives the pasta great texture, flavor, and color.

If you are at all interested in eating healthfully from “whole foods,” you have probably learned about flaxseed, hailed as a great source of fiber, beneficial fatty acids, and other good stuff. But did you know that it makes a really tasty fresh pasta too? Note that you need ground flaxseed meal—available in whole-food markets—for this dough.

Semolina is the grind of durum wheat—the wheat that makes the best dry pasta. Here, mixed one-to-one with all-purpose flour, it makes a fresh pasta that is nutty and resilient to the bite.

I love buckwheat for the earthy, gritty character it brings to many dishes. Flour made from the buckwheat seed (it’s not a relative of wheat) is used in Japanese soba noodles and is traditional in Italian pasta too. In the Valtellina they make a dish called pizzoccheri, buckwheat pappardelle dressed with cabbage and bacon and Fontina.

Corn, polenta, came to Italy from the New World, and yet, along with pasta and rice, it is one of the beloved starch dishes of Italy. Polenta was for the northeastern regions of Italy what potatoes were for Ireland. Corn grew in abundance there and fed many people and still does, so much so that the people of the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region are known as polentoni, polenta eaters. I come from the region, and I grew up eating polenta and still do eat it often. As a child I had just cooked or leftover polenta for breakfast with milk and sugar or with caffe latte, or pan-fried with some sugar and cinnamon sprinkled on top, as well as in endless ways accompanying vegetables, meats, fish, and cheeses. It is rather simple to cook—all you need is cornmeal, water, salt, olive oil, and a few bay leaves. When done, you can enjoy the polenta piping hot or let it cool and take shape, then cut and fry it, or grill and bake it, topped with anything you choose. In this chapter you’ll find it with leeks, with bacon lardoons, with Montasio cheese, or with just an egg yolk nestled in a piping-hot mound of polenta. Beyond the flavor of polenta, I look for the mouth feel, and that depends on the grind. Instant polenta will give you a smooth puddinglike texture, the medium grind a bit more texture, and the coarse will have almost a raspy feel in your mouth. There is also white polenta, milled from white corn, which is used much in the Veneto. And the polenta taragna, which has buckwheat milled along with the yellow corn, has much texture and flavor. The one important caution in cooking polenta is to get it smooth. Start it in cold water and whisk well while it cooks; it may take a bit longer but ensures lump-free polenta. Even though polenta might look done, make sure you cook it the recommended time; its digestibility and flavor increase with longer cooking time.

This is a fine fast sauce for Shrimp and Tomato Ravioli and Simple Ricotta Ravioli (preceding recipes) as well as for Potato, Leek, and Bacon Ravioli (page 186). Make the sauce just before the ravioli come out of the pot, for the freshest taste. You should definitely peel the tomatoes for this: see my method on page 261.

This is a simple, pure version of cheese ravioli, without the eggs that are usually added to firm up the filling. Use fresh whole-milk ricotta with large curds and drain it thoroughly to get the best consistency. With creamy fillings such as this one, I feel that a slightly thicker dough provides more texture and is preferable to a very thin dough. If you roll your dough strips to get eighteen or twenty ravioli—following the guidelines below—that’s better than trying to stretch them to get twenty-four. All you need is enough sauce to coat the ravioli lightly. So those small portions of sauces you have saved in the freezer might be just enough to dress a batch.

Spinach pasta is essential to Pasticciata Bolognese (page 200), but you can enjoy it in all the cuts and shapes of fresh pasta. It is best to start prepping the spinach well ahead of time, as detailed in the recipe, for the best texture. You can always freeze the dough until you need it. Spinach pasta is usually more moist than other fresh pastas and so will cook more quickly.

These three pasta doughs look almost identical on paper all purpose flour, eggs, olive oil, water. So you may wonder: How do I know which one to make? Which is the best? The truth is, I’d love to have you make all three so you can see and feel and taste the big differences that result from small variations. And you will realize there is no single “best.” As Italian cooks know, you can mix flour into a fine pasta dough with whatever eggoil water mixture you like, whatever is available in the pantry, or whatever you can afford. This last factor in particular reflects the way pasta has fit into Italian life for centuries: The rich man can have his cook make pasta moistened entirely with fat-laden, tasty egg yolks. A poor family might make their Sunday pasta with one precious egg (and have weekday pasta mixed only with water and a bit of oil). And families in between make pasta with the ingredients they have. But don’t be fooled. The richest is not necessarily best. With two eggs and a goodly amount of extra-virgin olive oil, Poor Man’s Pasta is quite rich and delicious (frankly, it’s my favorite). Part of the fun is in mixing and matching the right pasta with the most compatible sauce, and you’ll find guidance in the pages ahead as well as the challenge to try your own pairings.

This is a traditional Tuscan soup from the area of Arezzo, made with bread grilled over an open fire and virgin olive oil, unfiltered, straight from the press—the frantoio. Believe me, a pot of beans never tasted this good. As bread is a principal ingredient here, use one with fine flavor, preferably an artisan-baked loaf that has great crust and an airy crumb with lots of holes. Old bread—pane vecchio—is best, because it is already dry, but day-old or even fresh bread can be used.