Stew

This dish is usually made with pickled or salted fish, but it’s simpler (and, in my opinion, better) when made with lightly salted fresh fish. To be truly authentic, the chile should be a Scotch bonnet (habanero), which has a distinctive though fiery flavor, but any chile will do in a pinch. Serve this with Coconut Rice (page 516) or, even better, Coconut Rice and Beans (page 516).

Posole is dried corn treated with limestone, a traditional American food that predates the arrival of Europeans by some thousands of years. In its ground form it is the main ingredient in tortillas, but for some reason the whole kernels are largely ignored in this country outside of the Southwest. (Hominy, which is essentially the same thing, has a bit of a following in the South, but again mostly in its ground form: grits.) Posole is also the name of a soupy stew containing, well, posole. It can be varied in many ways, but it is always delicious and distinctive. If you have time, soak and cook the dried kernels yourself: Rinse the posole, then soak it in water to cover if time allows, for up to 12 hours; cook in boiling water to cover, stirring occasionally, for 1 hour and probably longer. Season with salt and drain. Canned posole (or hominy) is almost as good, and reduces the time it takes to make this soup to about an hour.

A hearty, delicious vegetable stew, whose ingredients can be varied however you like. Chickpeas and squash—both summer (zucchini) and winter (pumpkin or butternut)—are the most commonly included vegetables.

An unusual and unexpected variation on the traditional beef-and-vegetable stew, differing largely in its inclusion of beets, which deliver their distinctive sweetness and color. In fact it’s close to the vegetarian version of borscht (page 116), especially if you add the optional sour cream. If you use chuck or brisket here, the cooking time will be longer but the stew will taste better; if you’re in a hurry, use tenderloin—you’ll save time but lose flavor.

Galicia’s hearty bean and meat stew makes a terrific one-pot meal but is often served in cups as a starter. The rich flavors of the meat and beans are complemented by the sharp turnip and greens. In Galicia, the meat base is made from unto, a cured pork belly that I would tell you how to find if I knew. It’s not unlike pancetta but most like the fatty part of prosciutto, which would make a great substitute; salt pork or bacon is also fine—here I use a combination. There are as many ways to vary Caldo Gallego as there are to vary beef stew. For example, substitute chickpeas for the white beans; add chunks of pork shoulder, ribs, beef brisket, shin, chuck, or oxtail with the beans (increase the cooking time somewhat); replace the chorizo with other sausage; add peeled chunks of winter squash, pumpkin, apple, or pear; or substitute green beans or kale, collards, or chard for the cabbage.

Every seaside culture has its own fish stew, but in the West, bouillabaisse is the best known. Older recipes are quite specific about the kind of fish and the technique, but in my experience bouillabaisse, no matter how wonderful, is neither more nor less than a highly seasoned soup made with the day’s catch. So vary this recipe according to what you find at the store (or what you bring home from a day’s fishing).

A simple version of Bouillabaisse (page 138) that uses only one type of fish and is thickened by aïoli, the wonderful garlicky mayonnaise of Provence and Liguria (also called “the Italian Riviera”). Ask your fishmonger to gut and fillet the fish and to give you the head and bones for the stock, which of course can be made in advance. (Within limits you can use as many heads and bones as you like. See Fish Stock, page 161.) Serve this stew with crusty bread and a salad.

There are as many versions of pancotta—cooked bread—as there are towns in Italy (and, it seems sometimes, Italian Americans); so feel free to improvise. Some versions are quite dry, some incorporate cooked white beans, and some are run under the broiler just before serving, just to give you a few ideas. This is the perfect way to use leftover bread, though you can also make it with fresh bread.

Originally an Indian vegetable soup, this became popular among British colonialists, who added chicken to the mix. I like it better in something approaching its original form, but see the variations for more substantial versions.

If you think sauerkraut is only for hot dogs or choucroute garni (page 404), think again. Here’s a vegetable stew from Poland that demonstrates quite nicely that sauerkraut has roles beyond garnishing meat. Buy sauerkraut from packages or barrels, not cans, and make sure it contains just cabbage and salt. That’s all it takes.

I first ate this soupy stew (or stewy soup) at a lunch counter in Istanbul and was taken by its depth of flavor. It seemed that either the whole was greater than the sum of its parts or there were some hidden ingredients. It turned out to be the former, or nearly so; through an interpreter, I learned that the dish did not begin with stock but with water and that the only ingredient I was not seeing was a bit of garlic. The cook offered that one might add a bit of butter for richness but that he hadn’t done so with this batch. If you want to turn this into a more filling main course, use stock instead of water, add some cubed boneless chicken or lamb, season it with a little cumin or dill, and finish it with lemon. You’ll wind up with a bigger, more substantial Turkish-style stew, though not necessarily a better one.

Ratatouille calls for a fairly specific list of vegetables: eggplant, tomatoes, zucchini, peppers, and usually onions. These are cooked slowly, together, with a lot of olive oil and some garlic. The dish is finished with fresh basil; how could it be bad? Needless to say, ratatouille is best in midsummer, when the vegetables are at their peak. It can be served hot or at room temperature and is delicious both ways. It’s especially good with grilled sausage.

Cioppino is a delicious Ligurian fish stew, and since many emigrants from Liguria settled in San Francisco, some of the best renditions of the dish on this side of the ocean are found in San Francisco. California Italians were great contributors to the American fabric, and I am sure they all enjoyed a good bowl of cioppino. It might be a bit more complicated to eat, and perhaps your guests will balk, but I like my cioppino with crab legs in their shells.

On one of my visits to Roberto’s on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx, I picked up this delightfully spicy chicken recipe. It pairs wonderfully with the tomato-and-bread salad on page 94.

This dish has roots back in the Renaissance, when people hunted for food and only the wealthy could enjoy chicken. This is good when made with a whole chicken, but I prefer it made only with drumsticks and thighs. It can be made well in advance, and will reheat and remain moist. It is great with polenta or pasta, but I love it with a chunk of crusty semolina bread.

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.

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.

Legumes are a big part of the culinary tradition in Italy, and they found a place in Italian American homes as well. Almost every Italian American I spoke with wanted to share a memory of his or her favorite lentil dish. Legumes, especially lentils, deliver a lot of flavor, plus nutritional and economical value, and everyone could afford them. The immigrants ate them a lot, and they are still a favorite in Italian American kitchens. Pasta and beans, pasta e fagioli—or, as Italian Americans call it, pasta fazool—is a traditional meatless Italian dish, although it usually refers to white beans, such as cannellini or borlotti. Pasta fazool probably came from Neapolitan immigrants, derived from the Neapolitan word for beans, fazul. The recipe below is a soup consisting of lentils and pasta, but you can turn it into a dry pasta dish instead of a soup by adding only 5 to 6 cups of water. Or even make the lentils as a vegetable dish by eliminating the 4 cups of water and omitting the ditalini. The pancetta is added for flavor, but to make the soup vegetarian, omit the pancetta and start with the onion.

I love soups, and I love cauliflower, and who doesn’t like pancetta? This is a delicious soup, and, yes, you can serve it as is, or you can add some cooked white or brown rice. Get yourself some crusty bread, a glass of Chianti Classico or Morellino (the other Tuscan red), and enjoy.