European

Baby arties are much easier to prepare than big ones and you don’t end up with nearly as much waste. They’re a perfect side when they’re in season—they go beautifully with meat or fish and just scream springtime. Whenever I tell people I’m making artichokes they go, “Ohhh! Artichokes!!!” They just sound exciting.

For years polenta reminded me of the Cream of Wheat my mother used to send me off to school with in the morning. It was totally boring. But once I started making polenta for myself I discovered I LOVED it. My special twist? I fat it up with milk, Parm, Fontina cheese, and mascarpone until it’s creamy, decadent, and delicious. Just remember, the kicker here is to season the liquid with plenty of salt in the beginning—it makes all the difference.

I don’t know if my love of beans comes from living in Tuscany or if I was Tuscan in another life, but I adore beans. And when I want a stick-to-your-ribs side dish, I immediately think of Tuscan white beans. They’re creamy and delicious, and they say, “Put me with pancetta!” And I say, “Sure, I’d be happy to.” Then I toss in a bit of rosemary (but sage would be SOOOOO good here too!) and serve these with a yummy porky main—or just on their own for lunch.

Fish in paper is a classic preparation that will totally make you feel like a rock star in the kitchen. It’s super-easy and it’s all about the presentation. All you have to do is toss some veggies and white fish in a parchment package along with some wine, and let them steam themselves. When your guests open their packages, they get a big burst of aromatic vapor and a lovely piece of gently cooked fish on perfectly cooked veggies. Just remember that because you seal the packages, you only get one shot to season everything—if you miss your opportunity then this will taste like a diet dish. You have to season well BEFORE you seal the deal.

To me cauliflower is an underappreciated vegetable, and for no good reason. It’s one of my very favorites and I return to it again and again for many different preparations. I love it because you can cook it to death, literally hammer it, and it just gets better! I find it goes absolutely beautifully with seared fish and a bright parsley salad—this dish is ballsy, bold, and rustic all at the same time.

When I was working in Tuscany I made this dish every day. It’s a traditional osso bucco, but instead of using cross-sections, it uses the whole shank. I love it this way—big and meaty—but if you want to make these into individual portions, have the butcher cut the shanks into cross-sections for you. Because it’s a basic braise, you get started the way you would with any braise—by browning the meat really well and then browning the veggies. The big difference here is I’ve added apples to the soffritto for a little something special. SWEET!

I grew up hating pork chops. My mom used to make pork chops that were about as fat as a piece of paper (that’s all that was available back then), and she would cook them for a really long time—until they were dry and flavorless. Sadly, today so much commercially raised pork has so little fat in it that even if you cook it correctly, it can still be like eating your shoe. That’s why I love this brine—it infuses the pork with moisture and flavor, so you end up with a succulent and delicious chop. Then I crust it with one of my super-secret flavor weapons—fennel pollen. I discovered fennel pollen when I was working in Tuscany; it’s expensive but is so worth it. (If you can’t find it or don’t want to fork out the cash, toasted ground fennel seed is an acceptable substitute.) This is such a great combination of flavors that you will never think of pork chops the same way again!

My mom used to make stuffed peppers, but I don’t like peppers. What I liked was the stuffing. So I’ve taken my mom’s recipe, tweaked it, and stuffed it in cabbage instead. I’ve also added chicken livers. The livers add an earthy richness that makes this dish super-special. If you don’t like chicken livers—or think you don’t—this is one time where you should get beyond the ick factor, accept that they’re worth adding, and move on . . . because this dish rocks.

In Tuscany, every town has a market day. This is when trucks carrying all kinds of delightful edibles pull into the center of town, open up their sides, and become little grocery stores on wheels. Of course my favorite truck was always the porchetta truck—who doesn’t love a truck that sells a delicious crispy pork product? Traditionally, porchetta is a whole pig that’s been boned and cooked for hours, until the skin gets totally brown and crunchy and the meat becomes wonderfully tender. It’s most often seasoned with garlic, sage, and black pepper—and while pepper is not usually how I roll, it’s appropriate in this dish to keep the classic flavors intact. What is totally unique in my version is to cook the pork on a bed of autumn vegetables—they soak up the lovely porky juices and help create the ultimate one-pot dinner for a crowd. Be sure to save some leftovers for a sandwich the next day!

To me, absolutely anything fried is delicious. In this recipe I take a traditional crispy, crunchy, salty, fried preparation for chicken and apply it to pork. I serve the pork with escarole—the unsung hero of the salad world (I’m on a mission to popularize escarole). Then I toss some chopped nuts and pickled onions into the mix. My mouth is so excited it just doesn’t know which way to go; there’s crispy pork, crunchy escarole, salty sweet nuts, and bright acidic onions. So many different things are going on in this dish that even though it’s super-easy to make, it’s also incredibly exciting to eat!

Duck is one of those dishes that can be intimidating because it seems fancy and elegant. But there’s nothing to be scared of—making great duck just takes patience. To get a really beautiful, crackling, brown piece of skin you have to take your time and render the fat SLOWLY. If you rush it, you’ll end up with crispy skin but a thick layer of fat between the skin and the meat—which is totally icky. Taking your time to render the fat will not only make your duck absolutely delicious, but it will also leave you with a treasure trove of duck fat—an ingredient that in restaurant kitchens is considered liquid gold and makes killer Crispy Crunchy Duck Fat Potatoes (page 219). I think that duck lends itself to sweet flavors, so in this dish I use a sweet Tuscan wine—Vin Santo—to reconstitute dried fruit to make a chutney-like sauce with rich chicken stock. Together the rich, meaty, succulent duck and the intense, fruity sauce make this dish perfect for a holiday, a special occasion, or even a Tuesday.

When you use my Risotto-Without-a-Recipe technique (opposite), you can flavor it with anything you like. Sweet little rock shrimp, bright lemon, and fresh herbs are one of my favorite combos.

Farro is an ancient grain that’s used in traditional Tuscan and Umbrian cooking—kind of like a cross between barley and wheat berries. I love making farro in the style of risotto—a.k.a. farrotto. By using my Risotto-Without-a-Recipe technique (page 136) and substituting farro for rice, you end up with something rich and chewy and nutty all at the same time. Like risotto, farrotto is a blank canvas for whatever you’re feeling passionate about. Whatever ingredients are in season, whatever flavors you’re in the mood for, whatever’s freshest. Whenever I cook for big events and have to feed a lot of people, I always make farrotto because it’s quick, it doesn’t cost a lot, and it’s a huge crowd pleaser. It’s a win-win-win.

If you wheel your grocery cart down the rice aisle, you will not find “risotto.” Risotto is not a type of rice—it’s a method used for cooking Arborio or Carnaroli rice. And once you learn how to make risotto using my Risotto-Without-a-Recipe method, you’ll be able to make any kind of risotto simply by adding ingredients and flavorings to this basic technique.

These gnocchi are also called malfatti (which translates to “badly made”) or gnudi (which means “nude”) because essentially these are ravioli without the pasta—they’re naked! No matter what you call them, I ADORE these delicate little cheese dumplings. They’re little bundles of spinach and ricotta sitting on top of melted Fontina mixed with heavy cream, mascarpone, and egg yolks. A little bit of this dish goes a long way—right to my booty usually!

This is an amazing dish because it takes everyday ingredients and joins them in a delicious and unexpected collaboration. Both the squash and the broccoli rabe have their own strong personalities—one sweet and one bitter—and each brings something to the party that would be sorely missed if one of them didn’t show up. Combined with the nutty, earthy flavor of the whole wheat pasta, this is what I call a real team effort.

Fava beans are one of those things I wait for all year long. When you talk about seasonal cooking, fava beans immediately come to my mind because when they’re fresh, there’s really nothing like them. I was one of the weird kids who grew up liking lima beans—in fact, I asked for them every birthday dinner (why my mother didn’t just serve them to me on a regular basis I’m not really sure). Fava beans to me are a jacked-up version of lima beans, so you can imagine how much I like them. I feature them in this sauce, but then I tuck some sweet pea and cheese action into the ravioli so you get a little pocket of pea-ness on your plate along with those lovely favas!

When people think pesto, they think basil. But I like to mix pesto up and use broccoli rabe—one of my very favorite vegetables. Broccoli rabe makes a delicious starting point for pesto. Add some sharp cheese and pistachios and you’ve got an amazing way to transform an old classic. I stick with a traditional combo—bitter rabe and sweet sausage over orecchiette (translated as “little ear”)—but I tweak it just enough to make it fresh and fabulous!

I LOOOOOVE meatballs—who doesn’t? This is my interpretation of the classic Italian-American dish. What makes these meatballs special are two things: First, I cook the onions before putting them in the meatball mix. Second, I add water—this helps ensure a moist ball every time!

I first encountered this sauce while working in Umbria, and it’s one of my favorite summertime pastas. To me, this is Mother Nature’s last blast, her crescendo before fall. This is where you take everything she has to give, all those glorious summer ingredients, and toss them together to let the wonderful flavors marry. Then you just barely heat everything up, never actually letting the veggies cook, so they maintain their fresh flavors. Punctuate this with a salty grate of ricotta salata and say, “Mmmmm . . .”