Pasta

Matt got the inspiration for this dish from the Whole Hog Dinner that the restaurant Oliveto, in Oakland, hosts every year for chefs, food professionals, and friends from all over the world. One year they served pasta with cured pork, pickled peppers, and tomato sauce, which was so good that when we got back to Los Angeles, Matt decided to make his own version. Fiorentini means “Florentine,” but here refers to a twisted short pasta shape made by Setar, an artisanal pasta producer in Napoli. If you can’t find it, use another dried, artisanally produced pasta in its place, such as maccheroni alla chitarra, a big tube-shaped pasta from Napoli. The tubes collapse when they cook so they’re like empty ravioli.

This is a very simple Roman pasta dish made with nothing but black pepper and pecorino romano cheese. We believe in leaving traditional dishes alone, but we did make a couple of changes to this dish. We use bavette, in place of spaghetti, which is the shape traditionally used. And we cut the pecorino with Parmigiano because pecorino is so pungent that it can be overwhelming on its own. The pepper for this dish must be coarsely ground. I recommend you use Tellicherry peppercorns, a fragrant, flavorful variety from India. Coarsely grinding or cracking the pepper for this dish is the perfect excuse for breaking out the mortar and pestle.

Matt added pancetta to this classic dish. It’s such a perfect addition that it feels as if it’s always been there.

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.

Matt makes a point to return to Italy every year for inspiration. On a recent trip, he happily returned with the idea for this sea urchin pasta dish, the only cold pasta we serve. I love sea urchins, or ricci. They are a delicacy of many seaside regions in Italy, such as Puglia and Sicily, but many aficionados say that the best sea urchins come from the waters off Southern California. Cooked lump crab meat is readily available at seafood stores and in the seafood sections of high-end grocery stores.

Gnudi are little dumplings, like gnocchi, but made with ricotta instead of potatoes. Most places don’t do gnudi justice. They are often mushy and heavy, instead of light and fluffy, like these. This recipe makes 36 to 40 gnudi, or enough for 6 to 8 people as a first course. The dough does not keep well, so you need to plan on serving a crowd, or serve hearty, main-dish-size portions.

Traditionally, lamb shanks such as those in this recipe would be braised and served in all their glory, and subsequently, making lamb ragù would be a way to turn a relatively small amount of leftover meat into tomorrow night’s pasta dinner. We braise the lamb just so that we can pull it apart and turn it into ragù. It’s a decadent thing to do, and results in a luxurious and delicious pasta. Enjoy.

Prior to his working at Del Posto, Matt went to Italy with Mario for a story for Gourmet. The premise of the story was that Mario was taking his chefs and the general manager from Del Posto to Italy, specifically to the center of Emilia-Romagna, to show them what it was like to eat there. They ate sixty-two courses in five days and Matt had a lot of dishes to talk about, but the one he was most excited about was the ragù bolognese he had at Diana, a restaurant just outside the main piazza in Bologna. It was as if his eyes had just been opened. He called me right after that meal: “It was rich but delicate and with a touch of sweetness,” he told me. When they got back to New York, while Matt was relegated to the soup station of the kitchen, Mark Ladner and Mark’s team at Del Posto attempted to create a bolognese that captured the spirit of the one at Diana. When Matt tasted Mark’s version, he called me again, excited: “They did it!” he said. “They nailed it.” And that— the Del Posto version of the Diana bolognese—was what Matt was going for when we opened Mozza. Having eaten at Diana myself, I can also tell you that Matt nailed it. When making bolognese, the most important thing is to go slow. You never want the meat to cook directly against the pan, because you want to braise the meat, not brown it. The “secret” to it is the Soffritto, which takes several hours to make—so give yourself time. This is slow food!

Wild boar, called cinghiale, is hunted and sold all over Umbria, so as a born-again Umbrian I would feel as if I were betraying my experience of Italy if I didn’t include this ragù at my restaurant. Cutting the boar is the hardest part of this recipe, and it isn’t hard at all. The ideal is to buy frozen wild boar and cut it while it’s only partially defrosted, when it’s easier to cut.

Toasting couscous in the pan before adding water imparts a nuttiness that complements the distinctive flavors of mint and parsley.

To make this recipe in advance, dice the beet and prepare as directed in step 1, and refrigerate it in the liquid, covered, up to 1 day.

To remove individual Brussels sprout leaves, cut the stem out of each sprout and gently ease apart all the leaves.