Pecorino

Some people dislike anchovies, but it would be a shame to leave them out of this dish. They add such wonderful flavor and, most likely, people won’t even know they are there. They dissolve during the cooking and add complexity to the other assertive flavors in this dish. I like to crush canned tomatoes with my hands, so I can feel when they are the right size and how tender or firm they are. That helps me to judge the cooking time better. If you prefer, you can mash them with a wire whisk or use a food processor. If you choose to process them, use just a few quick bursts—otherwise you’ll chop them too fine and incorporate a lot of air into the tomatoes, and they will turn pink. You can add basil to this sauce if you like, or stick to the traditional Italian-American accent of fresh parsley. I choose Pecorino Romano cheese for this dish. It is made from sheep’s milk and is much sharper than Parmigiano-Reggiano, which is made from cow’s milk. But if you prefer, you may use Parmigiano-Reggiano.

When they’re made with 99 percent lean ground turkey breast, these burgers are a figure-friendly way to enjoy a sausage sandwich.

This is my make-at-home version of one of my favorite brunch items at Union Square Cafe in New York City. Chef Michael Romano makes a mean Italian-style hoagie with sliced steak, tomato sauce, and capers—yum-o! When I’m up at my cabin, out in the sticks, I gotta make a knockoff for myself. (Michael, aka Mikey here, isn’t really from Philly. Rather I am referring to his riff on Philly’s famous cheese-steak sammies.)

This Roman dish is as old as the city’s seven hills. It doesn’t get any easier, really. As a side, I fry up some garlic in oil and toss it with chopped defrosted spinach and some rinsed canned white beans.

I make this dinner every Christmas. I have included it in other books, but I cannot finish any year without it. I have made some small improvements in the recipe over the years, so it’s faster and easier to make than ever. You can eat it all year long as do I. For Italians, after all those fishes on Christmas Eve, this dish, with four different meats in it, is especially nice on Christmas night. This is the greatest gift I can give to myself and those I love: a big bowl of pasta with the works. Have a great year! Serve with tomato, basil, and mozzarella salad (the colors of the season and the Italian flag).

Cacio pepe literally translates as “cheese and pepper.” It is a classic Italian pasta dish that centers on the flavors of grated cheese and freshly ground black pepper. The simplest versions we have seen are made with abundant cheese and pepper, melted and moistened only with the cooking water. More indulgent recipes add olive oil or butter as we do below. Most recipes call for Pecorino Romano, a hard sheep’s-milk cheese, although Parmigiano Romano also crops up here and there. In our version the roasted pasta adds a deeper, more savory flavor to the finished dish. It is simple to make but it’s important to get the balance right so that your pasta is silky and flavorful. It’s the perfect meal for when the pantry is almost bare but the body needs something delicious to satisfy it.

This tasty and easy casserole is a wonderful way to enjoy homemade fregola and makes a great accompaniment to braised chicken or veal. If I have not convinced you to make your own, use packaged dried fregola, available at specialty stores or online. Commercial fregola is usually a bit larger than the homemade, so follow the package guidelines for cooking the pasta al dente.

Our friend Franco Azzara made this memorable pasta dish for us during a recent visit to his home in the Gallura region of Sardinia. I marveled at how quickly he put it together, and at the complex flavor of the raw sauce—just fresh tomatoes, basil and mint, and other savory seasonings, whipped up in a food processor, no cooking necessary. I thank him for sharing this Azzara family recipe, one that I know you will enjoy both for its ease and convenience and for its brilliant flavors.

Pane frattau is a traditional dish of Sardinian shepherds, made from pane carasau, the thin, long-keeping flatbreads that were a staple food during the shepherds’ extended sojourns in mountain pastures. Some clever shepherd discovered long ago, I imagine, that he could turn the dry bread into a fast, warm meal by soaking and layering it with hot tomato sauce and cheese, lasagna-style. Now considered a classic of Sardinian cooking, pane frattau is a dish that I love to make at home. No baking is required, and everything can be heated on the stovetop (quicker than a shepherd’s campfire, I am sure) and quickly assembled. With a perfectly poached or fried egg as the crowning touch, it makes a beautiful brunch or supper dish, belying its peasant origins. Regard this recipe as a guideline. Though the listed ingredient amounts serve four, you can multiply them to serve a crowd or divide them to make pane frattau for two—or just for yourself. I recommend my Tomato Sauce (page 385), but any basic tomato sauce of your choice would be fine, too. And though I prefer poached eggs to top the pane frattau, a fried egg, sunny side up, would be just as authentic and satisfying. Either way, just be sure to cook the eggs at the last minute and serve the dish right away. I also suggest that you try layering pane frattau as is rather than water-soaked pane carasau. It is great that way, too!

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 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.

When I say the word “pesto” to people in America (or anywhere outside Italy), I know they are thinking of pesto alla Genovese, with its lush green color and intense perfume of fresh basil leaves. Indeed, though there are countless fresh sauces that are also termed “pesto” in Italian cuisine (see box, page 105), it seems that pasta with basil-and-pine-nut pesto is so well known that it might as well be the national Italian dish! Traditionally, long, flat trenette or shorter twisted trofie is the pasta used here, though even spaghetti is great with the pesto. For the most authentic flavor, use a sweet, small-leaved Genovese basil for the pesto—perhaps you can find it at a farmers’ market in summer, or grow it yourself. Large basil will be delicious, too. Of course, use the best extra-virgin olive oil available, in the pesto and on the pasta, preferably pressed from the marvelous taggiasca olives of Liguria.

Serve with pasta, polenta, or rice. Accompany with steamed broccoli or braised escarole or kale.

Enhance eggs with spinach, which has mounds of magnesium, a mineral that helps keep blood pressure steady.

I pair the pecorino with a homemade fig paste that takes a little while to make—only because you have to let the figs dry in a warm oven—but is an absolutely spectacular condiment. There's no point in making just a little, so the recipe makes about three times as much as you need here, but that's okay; if well wrapped, it keeps in the refrigerator for about 2 weeks and goes well with other cheeses, meats, and poultry.

This dish tastes like an entire New England clambake all folded into a luxurious frittata. Budget enough time to bake the potato and to steam the lobster. Though this is a little more work than most brunch dishes, it’s worth the extra time when you really want to pamper some guests, and yourself. Serve with Spicy Zucchini with Mint (page 218).

This classic and delectable pasta dish originated in the region of Abruzzi, in the little town of Amatrice, northeast of Rome, where it was traditionally prepared without tomatoes. But it is the Roman version of pasta all’amatriciana, with tomatoes, that I share with you here—the version that is best known and deservedly popular. Lots of onions; chips of guanciale (cured pork cheek, now available in the United States, see Sources, page 340), pancetta, or bacon; and San Marzano tomatoes are the essential elements of the sauce, Roma style. Note that the onions are first softened in water, before olive oil is added to the pan—a traditional but unusual step that is said to make the onions sweeter. The standard pasta used is bucatini or perciatelli (spaghetti are only tolerated). The long, dry strands of perciatelli resemble very thick spaghetti but are hollow like a drinking straw. When cooked, they are wild and wiggly, so you might be tempted to cut them. Do not—once you’ve got them on your fork, they’re delicious and fun to eat. It is quite all right to slurp them. Indeed, as kids we would suck them in so fast that the end of the noodle would whip us in the nose, splattering sauce all over our faces. What a wonderful memory!

These toasts are topped with a light sprinkling of minced garlic, olive oil, and sharp Pecorino Romano before being baked. Garlicky and salty, they are a great accompaniment to cocktails.

Risotto, the ultimate comfort food of Milan, heads south to sunny Rome in a revamp of a classic. Pecorino Romano—in place of the more traditional Parmigiano-Reggiano—brings a delectably briny tang, while crunchy radishes in a light vinaigrette provide a counterpoint to the creamy Arborio rice.

Mushrooms in general are great for grilling, and portabellas—which not only have a wonderful, earthy flavor but are also large enough to be easy to handle on the grill—are perhaps the best of all.

Crumb toppings normally appear on fruit desserts, but a savory mixture of grated pecorino and toasted walnuts works in much the same way, adding textural contrast to delicate fettuccine and grilled zucchini. Garlic-chile oil jazzes up the flavor.

The salads of shaved raw porcini mushrooms that are served throughout Italy are the inspiration here. A big squeeze of lemon and a scattering of herbaceous celery leaves contribute brightness. Speedy yet luxurious, it just may become your new party dish.