European

This tasty sauce goes well with all kinds of fish. In the recipe, I use firm white fish, frying the fillets first, then briefly simmering them in the sauce. The acidity and intensity of the sauce also complement more oily fish, such as bluefish and mackerel. I like to grill bluefish whole (rather than fry them), then remove the skin and bones, and serve topped with sauce.

Every region in Italy cooks rabbit, and I love it—it is tasty, healthy, and low in fat. So in every one of my books I include a rabbit recipe. Though a whole cut-up rabbit is traditional, I recommend rabbit legs for this delicious braise. They are worth looking for—easier to handle, more moist when cooked, and yielding a good portion of meat versus bones. (If you can’t find legs, a whole rabbit, cut in serving pieces, will work fine in this recipe.) Should you have any leftovers, do what I do: shred the meat off the bones back into the sauce, and freeze. It will be a great dressing for pasta when you are late and tired and want a quick, delicious meal.

Pan-cooked chicken, caramelized and sticky to the fingers, moist and flavorful inside, is a favorite food around the world. If there are chicken-lovers in your family (as in mine), this Le Marche version is sure to be a hit. Its special taste and texture come from the region’s big fat Ascolane olives, which imbue the chicken with flavor, and the crunch of native pine nuts. Though authentic Ascolane olives are fantastic in this dish, they’re only occasionally available in the United States. But other varieties of green, brine-cured Italian olives (such as Castelvetrano or Cerignola) will be delicious, too; just keep in mind that the saltiness of olives will vary, and season accordingly. “How about black olives?” you ask. And I say, “Black oil-cured olives will be delicious as well; even a green-and-black combination would be nice.” Choose your preferred chicken pieces, too. A whole bird, cut up, is fine, though all dark meat—drumsticks and thighs—is my favorite. And if you are in a hurry (or watching your fat intake), use breast pieces. With these, you can cut the oil and butter in the recipe in half and, because breast meat cooks faster, brown the pieces initially for only 10 minutes, turn them, add the olives, then cook for an additional 10 minutes.

Ascoli is a city in the Marche region known for its big green olives. They add a distinctive local flavor to this sauce of tomatoes and canned tuna, a pasta dressing found in many regions of Italy. If you can’t find Ascolane olives, other green Italian olives will do. Do not be afraid to alter some of the other ingredients to make your own version of this tasty sauce. For example, anchovies add complexity, but you could omit them if you choose. And though chopped parsley is fine, a little mint and/or a little oregano could go far. Also, do not feel compelled to use the exact pasta shape: I call for ziti here, but fusilli, shells, or mafalde could all add a new dimension to this dish.

This is a very flavorful rendition of pasta and clam sauce, a bit more complex than the one Aunt Anna made for me on my first visit to Le Marche. It can also be made with other seafood, such as shrimp or calamari, in place of the clams—just keep in mind the varying cooking times of whatever shellfish you use. If you are not in the mood for seafood, omit it altogether and double the artichokes. And who is to say that you can’t do this recipe with chicken breast? Just add slivers of breast meat before the artichokes, cook and stir for a few minutes, then proceed with the basic recipe.

Crêpes, or scrippelle, are a big part of the menu in Le Marche, as a garnish in soups, filled with grated cheese, or used like pasta, as they are in this delicious casserole. In fact, if you are reluctant to make your own fresh pasta, this might be a first step. The scrippelle are easy to make and can be fried in advance, then sliced into ribbons for the recipe.

Farro, a variety of wheat also known as emmer, was one of the first domesticated crops. It is a low-yielding grain and difficult to cultivate; hence it fell out of favor in much of the world. But in Italy, farro has always been appreciated. The Roman legions ground it to make puls, a version of polenta, and today it is still used to make great soups, or side dishes like this recipe. Served warm or at room temperature, it is wonderful with grilled meats, and a great item on a buffet table. If you want to turn it into a main course, just add shrimp, clams, mussels, or canned tuna. Though farro is the best choice for this recipe, you can substitute spelt, barley, or other grains, adjusting cooking times. And in place of bell peppers, you can flavor the dish with other vegetables such as zucchini or eggplant in the summer, or squash and/or mushrooms in the fall.

Zucchini is such an abundant and tasty vegetable, yet too often is bland and unpleasing when served. This preparation is simple and full of flavor. The anchovies provide much of it, and if you crave the anchovy taste you can increase the amount used. On the other hand, if you are apprehensive about anchovies, cut the amount in half. For extra spice, add crushed red pepper as well. Serve this hot, as an appetizer or a side dish, or prepare it in advance and serve at room temperature. It’s delicious either way (and thus an excellent buffet item). The savory zucchini makes a great pasta sauce, too—simply toss with hot drained ziti (or other short hollow pasta) and top with grated cheese.

Tortelli are filled pasta squares, like ravioli. These are the largest of the pasta shapes in this chapter—you need only eight to ten pieces per serving—and the simplest to make, too, since they need no twisting. Here I give you two savory tortelli fillings that I discovered in Emilia-Romagna. The techniques for making tortelli are the same for this cabbage-and-pancetta filling and for the chard-ricotta filling that follows (page 153). (You can also make tortelli with the fillings I give you for anolini, tortellini, and cappellacci.) As I often say, homemade pasta is so good that you need nothing more than butter (or extravirgin olive oil) and cheese to dress it. So, in the master recipe, I dress the cabbage-filled tortelli with just melted butter (as is customary in the north of Italy)—I would do the same with the chard-filled tortelli. You could also dress them with a light tomato sauce, such as the Romagnola (page 140) or my Marinara Sauce (page 384). And if you are making a meat roast or roast chicken for the same meal, the juices and drippings from the roasting pan would make a splendid dressing for your tortelli.

This traditional casserole of veal scaloppine is simple and simply delicious, with a multitude of harmonious flavors and textures. The scaloppine are quickly fried, then layered in the pan to bake, moistened with an intense prosciutto-Marsala sauce, and topped by a delicate gratinato of Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano. And though veal is customary, scaloppine of chicken breast, turkey breast, or even pork would be excellent prepared this way. The first step, of frying the meat, can be done in advance, but I recommend that you assemble and bake the casserole just before serving: reheating will toughen the gratinato and accentuate the saltiness of the prosciutto.

Celery is plentiful and a wonderful vegetable, yet I see it mostly used in making stocks or salads. This way of braising celery is easy and flavorful, and makes a grand side dish for grilled fish or chicken. It can be cooked in advance and reheated when your guests come—or serve it at room temperature as an appetizer. I’ve also discovered that any leftovers make a very good chutney: chop coarsely and spread on a sandwich of cold cuts or cheese. Fantastic!

In Emilia-Romagna, zucca (a pumpkinlike winter squash) is a traditional filling for cappellacci, stuffed pastas that are folded and twisted like tortellini but slightly larger. Butternut squash is the best substitute for Italian zucca, though you must squeeze out all the moisture after cooking it. With the sweetness and texture of crushed amaretti cookies and hints of lemon and nutmeg, this is a delicious and versatile filling, great in tortellini and tortelli as well as cappellacci. Sage-infused melted butter is the customary (and perfect) dressing for this autumn and winter dish. For a variation, omit the sage, and brown the butter in a hot pan before drizzling it over the pasta.

This uncooked dressing, enriched with ricotta and butter, is delicious and quite different from the herb-based pestos I’ve found in other regions. You can blend it together in a bowl while the pasta water is heating up and have a distinctive pasta appetizer or main course in minutes. To retain its vibrant, fresh flavors, it is important not to cook the pesto, just toss it with the tagliatelle and serve.

Tortellini are probably the best-known and most popular of the many forms of filled pasta for which Emilia-Romagna is famous. Although they are made all over the region, tortellini are the special pride of Bologna, where, according to food historians, they were first created centuries ago. When I visited the great artisanal pasta-makers Renata Venturi and her daughters, Daniela and Monica, whom I mentioned in the introduction to this chapter, they showed me their techniques of hand-rolling and shaping tortellini in their marvelous pasta shop, Le Sfogline. Though tortellini are sold (usually frozen) in most markets in the United States, the recipe here will give you a big batch of fresh homemade tortellini, far superior to anything you can buy at the store. And you will see how easy and enjoyable the shaping is, especially the final twist that gives each piece its distinctive shape. Although meat-filled tortellini might come to mind first, I love this ricotta version, dressed with a simple tomato sauce, such as my Marinara Sauce (page 384). A more complex sauce, such as Ragù alla Bolognese (page 382) or mushroom guazzetto, would also be delicious, as would a simple dressing of sage and butter. (If you want to try other pasta shapes than tortellini, you can make tortelli or tortellacci with this ricotta-fontina filling.)

In addition to tagliatelle, use this rich pasta dough to make all the forms of filled pasta from Emilia-Romagna—anolini, cappellacci, tortelli, and tortellini—that I detail later in the chapter.

In a traditional Ragù alla Bolognese (page 382), the ground meats are slowly cooked with tomatoes and red wine and stock, developing a velvety texture and deep, rich flavor. This “white” ragù streamlines the process and omits most of the tomato, producing a lighter and more delicate sauce with much of the complexity of the classic Bolognese. (And if you want to make it even lighter, you might use ground rabbit meat or turkey or chicken in place of the chopped beef.) Typically used to dress fresh tagliatelle, ragù di carni bianche is also delicious as a sauce for other pastas, lasagna, polenta, and gnocchi. This recipe makes enough sauce to dress two batches of my fresh tagliatelle; use half the sauce for one dinner, and freeze the rest for a great meal to come.

Just as the Neapolitans have their marinara, Romagnola cuisine also offers a savory, meatless tomato sauce as an essential pasta dressing. This version is made from fresh tomatoes—round, plum, or small cherry tomatoes can all be used—and cooks in the time it takes to heat the pasta water. A small amount of tomato paste is called for, and although you can omit it, I think it lends complexity to the sauce and makes it cling to the golden ribbons of tagliatelle so much better. This recipe makes enough for one batch of fresh tagliatelle, but if you have plenty of fresh tomatoes, you should certainly double the sauce formula and freeze half to use another time.