European

You will find many ways to please your guests with this simple dish. The juicy, glazed onions are delicious as an hors d’oeuvre to be passed around, tossed in a salad, or served as a side dish with meats and fish. Here, I use balsamic vinegar to give the glazing syrup lots of flavor and a lovely caramel color, but you could use good wine vinegar as well. In which case, use just half the vinegar called for, and 1 teaspoon of honey. These onions are wonderful served warm from the pan or at room temperature and make a great house gift, packed in a nice jar with a label tied around the neck. They will keep in the refrigerator for a week or two and freeze well, too.

Stuffed veal breast can be found in many regions, but the Genovese preparation, cima alla Genovese, is one of the most distinctive and delicious. It is one of my favorite Ligurian dishes, and whenever I am in Genova I seek it out at the local restaurants. Traditionally, it is a specialty of late spring and summer, because in the natural cycle, calves are mostly birthed in early spring, and the veal will be most tender within the next few months. Appropriately for a summer dish, cima alla Genovese is served at room temperature, accompanied by fresh salsa verde. Here, though, I give you my home version of cima, one that I prepare all year around, whenever I want something special (and convenient) to delight lots of people. Because veal breast of appropriate size can be hard to find, I use veal shoulder and sometimes turkey breast, butterflied and flattened. I wrap the meat around a colorful filling: a big frittata with a medley of vegetables and a row of hard-cooked eggs. Poached in a log shape, the cima cools before it is sliced for serving. It is still always exciting for me (and will be for you) as each slice is revealed, the filling ingredients forming a unique mosaic within a frame of moist, tender meat. The convenience of cima I also love. I can assemble the stuffed veal the night before, cook it early in the morning, and let it rest. Uncut, the roll keeps well (even for several days) and can be served whenever needed, without further cooking. In summer, it makes a fine al fresco lunch or dinner, or a picnic centerpiece. At holiday times, nothing is more beautiful on a buffet. And when there are guests in the house, I serve it at dinner and leave the rest as an elegant anytime snack.

Sugo is a word that means “sauce,” or sometimes “juice,” but here it tells only part of the story. Sugo alla Genovese is a traditional braised-meat dish that gives you a big pot filled with both a tender, succulent beef roast and a rich, meaty tomato sauce. Like others of my favorite braises (such as Braised Leg of Lamb in the Abruzzo chapter, page 258), it yields a bounty of sauce, enough to dress pasta as a first course and to serve as gravy on the sliced meat for a main course. What makes this sugo distinctively alla Genovese is an unusual step in the procedure. After you have caramelized the aromatic vegetables and herbs and browned the meat, you begin building the sauce with red wine. Then you set the meat aside and purée the seasonings with pine nuts to create a complex thickened base for the sauce, reminiscent of pesto alla Genovese. This then goes back in the pan, and everything cooks together slowly for hours, resulting in a sugo that is absolutely delicious and certainly unique.

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.

This tangy, textured potato salad is much appreciated in Liguria, and it has become a favorite of mine. I like it best served warm—when the freshly cooked potatoes have just been tossed in the hot bacon-and-mustard dressing—though it is also delicious at room temperature, on a buffet or picnic table. As the name implies (and the slightly Nordic ingredients also suggest), this salad came to Liguria from somewhere else. Though I don’t know the precise origins, the Riviera Ligure has for centuries lured writers, composers, poets, and artists from other parts of Europe. Perhaps one of these creative types made this salad during a Ligurian sojourn. Certainly I have no objection that such a tasty dish, even if introduced by an outsider, took root in Liguria and became part of the regional cuisine.

Vegetables prepared alla Genovese are among my favorite Ligurian dishes, made with the freshest produce and brilliantly flavored. I particularly love this sauté of spinach with anchovies, raisins, and pine nuts (and I’ve read that spinach prepared in this manner was one of Michelangelo’s favorite dishes, too). Each of the components makes a distinct contribution: The anchovies lend complexity and saltiness. The raisins bring sweetness and counterbalance the anchovies. (I give you the amounts of each that I like, but find your own balance of flavors by increasing or decreasing either.) Finally, pine nuts add a mellow, pleasing textural contrast. You can apply this trio of tastes to other vegetables; escarole, broccoli, cauliflower, and Swiss chard will all be delicious in such a preparation. Spinaci alla Genovese is wonderful served family-style as a dinner vegetable, or as a colorful bed for grilled chicken breast or fish. Should you have any leftovers, layer the spinach between slices of crusty bread for an unusual but absolutely delicious sandwich.

Here’s another example of a simple vegetable sauté with brilliant Genovese touches. As in the preceding spinach recipe, anchovies provide salty savor to the green beans, and slivers of garlic and lemon bring additional flavor notes. Great as a vegetable side dish anytime, these beautiful beans make a particularly delicious accompaniment to grilled steak or lamb chops.

Thick tuna steaks are not just for grilling. The stovetop technique here is quick and convenient. You use one big skillet for browning the fish steaks, make a simple (yet complex-tasting) sauce, and put the two together for a final brief braise that marries the flavors perfectly. This is the true alla Genovese method. If you prefer grilling to pan-cooking, however, you can certainly omit the first step of flouring and frying the steaks, and make the sauce separately. Use a smaller saucepan in this case, preparing the sauce as in the recipe, starting with the sauté of garlic, anchovies, and porcini in 2 tablespoons olive oil. (Use the other 3 tablespoons olive oil, and 1/2 teaspoon salt, to season the fish before grilling.) One advantage of a separate sauce is that it can be finished ahead of time, so when your guests arrive you only have to fire up the stove and cook the fish. And you’ll find it delicious with bass, codfish, or salmon as well as tuna. In fact, this sauce is so good, I suggest you have a good slab of focaccia to mop up the pan.

This soup exemplifies the Ligurian love of vegetables, which is one of the things I love most about that cuisine. It demonstrates that with vegetables alone—there’s no meat or meat stock in it—you can cook immensely flavorful and satisfying dishes. This is my re-creation of the heavenly vegetable soup served by my cousin Lidia Bosazzi when my parents took my brother Franco and me to Genova before we immigrated to America. With more kinds of vegetables than I could count—and that aroma of pungent garlic, which I have never forgotten—this is one of the most satisfying soups I know. More than most dishes, soups accommodate variation and improvisation, and, as usual, I encourage you to experiment with this recipe. You don’t need every vegetable in the exact amount listed for the zuppa—use what you have or like. And even the all-important garlic can be reduced (or increased) according to your family’s taste. A substitution or addition that I recommend, in fact, is to use all the aromatic onion-family members that come in springtime—fresh spring onions and spring garlic with green shoots, scallions, baby leeks. They make every soup better. At home I make this in large quantities, and that is how I share it with you. With all the work of washing and chopping vegetables, I like to have plenty of soup to enjoy right away and a couple of quarts in the freezer for a future meal. You can cut the recipe in half if you like, but I believe you go through your days feeling better when there’s a delicious soup stored at home, ready to be enjoyed and to sustain you.

The traditional Ligurian bread salad condiggion was the highlight of the meal we had in the Cinque Terre a few years ago (as I mentioned in the introduction to this chapter). With many textures from crunchy vegetables, vinegar-soaked bread, and tangy greens, and layers of flavor in the basil and olive-oil dressing—and a shower of dried tuna roe, bottarga, providing a touch of salt and sea—this has become one of my favorite summer salads. It is exceptionally flavorful and refreshing, and a great accompaniment to the grilled meat and fish that I prepare in summer. This salad is also open to variation, so use your favorite greens, vegetables, and even bread. I find that curly chicory, green and bitter, makes the best salad, but you can play with other seasonal greens you find in the market. And if you have some day-old whole-wheat or multigrain bread, that could be delicious here, too. Just make sure it is dry enough to be revitalized by the vinegar and dressing (if too fresh, it will crumble into mush at the bottom of the bowl). In Liguria, where bottarga is a common flavoring element, it is essential to the salad. If you have some, by all means use it (and keep it wrapped well and frozen for long storage). Otherwise, chopped anchovies are a good final addition to the salad, if you yearn for that salty fish flavor, as I do.

A platter of baked stuffed vegetables is one of the everyday delights of the Genovese table, and I always sample a seasonal assortment when I visit the city. The array is never exactly the same, and this recipe is a guideline that you can (and should) vary according to your tastes and what’s available. I give you one delicious and easy bread stuffing, along with procedures for preparing and baking a few of the most typical vegetables used in Genova—bell peppers, mushrooms, sweet onions, tomatoes, and zucchini. Many others can be substituted and will be delicious with this stuffing, including beets, fennel, squash, and even carrots. Of course, you don’t have to have every one of the vegetables I recommend. Stuff just a couple of different veggies, or just pick one, such as stuffed and baked big mushrooms, if that’s what you like. Like other Ligurian vegetable dishes, ripieni all’Antica can be served piping hot, warm, or at room temperature; presented on individual plates, or family-style on large platters. They make a great appetizer, a side dish for grilled steak, lamb, or chicken, or a vegetarian main course. And when I have a few leftover vegetables, I heat them up in the morning and top them with a fried or poached egg, for a special breakfast.

This is a generously proportioned version of the delicious rice-and-zucchini crostata, or tart, that my cousin Lidia prepared when our family first visited Genova, nearly fifty years ago. She made hers in a small baking pan, and mine is the same, only bigger! I use a half-sheet baking pan (a jelly-roll pan will work, too) lined with the olive-oil-based dough that has no leavening, is easy to make, and fantastic to roll. The large size of this crostata is necessary, I find, because the crostata disappears right away. Whether I put it on a buffet in bite-sized party pieces, bring it to a picnic, or serve it as a plated appetizer or main course with salad, everyone loves it—and has to have another piece. And in the unlikely event you do have leftovers, they can be frozen and reheated—just as good as when freshly baked. The procedure is straightforward and quick, though there’s one important (and interesting) step you must leave time for: steeping the uncooked rice with the shredded zucchini. Since squash is a watery vegetable and rice is dry and starchy, this steeping allows the rice to extract most of the vegetal water from the zucchini. In this way, the grain is softened enough to cook during the baking time, and without absorbing all the liquid from the ricotta and milk. The result is a moist, creamy, and flavorful filling.

This delightful pudding is a fine example of the art of using leftovers to make something fresh and new (without evidence of recycling). Here, crumbled biscotti, chopped chocolate, and chopped hazelnuts are mixed into the warm custard. As it cools and sets, the dry cookies absorb and meld with the custard, but also contribute their flavor and texture. This recipe is one upon which you can improvise, using whatever sweet remnants you have on hand, whether ginger snaps or shortbread cookies, or bits of dry sponge cake or pound cake.

Biancomangiare (known as “blancmange” in French and English) is a very old milk-pudding dessert that food historians say has been made since the Middle Ages, in countries from the Middle East to Scandinavia. I am delighted with this modern biancomangiare, which I had recently in Valle d’Aosta. Rich with cream, flavored with both vanilla bean and almond extract, and molded in individual ramekins, it is quite similar to panna cotta. So, if you and your family like panna cotta, you will love this, too. The puddings are lovely as is, unmolded onto plates, with their caramel syrup. They’re even better served with poached fruit in season, such as poached pears or cherries. For a special touch, have the poached fruit ready when you make the biancomangiare. Place a pear half or a few big cherries in the bottom of each ramekin or cup just before filling with the sweet pudding mixture. When you unmold it, the biancomangiare will be crowned with the fruit and glistening with caramel.

Make this dish once and you will make it over and over. Everything about it is good. It requires only one big pan, and that one will contain a complete supper of meat, potatoes, and vegetable for at least eight and likely a dozen people. Best of all, everybody loves every bit that comes out of the pan. Socca, as this is called in Valle d’Aosta, is exactly what the English recipe name says: a big casserole with layers of sliced beef, sliced potatoes, and shredded cabbage (all nicely seasoned). It bakes for several hours, until all the layers are fork-tender, then it’s covered with a final layer of fontina, which bakes into an irresistibly crusty cheese topping. (Though it is unlikely you will have much left over, the dish will keep well for several days in the refrigerator; reheat it either on top of the stove or in the oven.) In Valle d’Aosta, the meat of choice in socca is beef or game; in my recipe, it’s a top-blade roast from the beef chuck (or shoulder). Since I am sure you will make this again, I suggest you try it with slices of pork shoulder (the butt roast) or lamb shoulder or lamb leg. These meats will be delicious in the casserole, too.

In this version of carbonade, the beef-and-wine dish that is a hallmark of Valdostana cuisine, the principal elements are cooked independently. First, you prepare the sauce, cooking red wine with aromatic vegetables and herbs until complex in flavor and highly concentrated. Later, the beef tenderloin, the filetto, is skillet-roasted (on the stovetop) until crusted and caramelized outside and juicy inside—a simple cooking method that takes barely 15 minutes. Before serving, you deglaze the empty skillet with the wine sauce and blend in the butter. It is only on the serving platter that the beef and wine come together, yet the pairing is perfect. I particularly like this separately cooked wine sauce because it is as good with other meats as it is with the filetto. Try it with roasts, such as loin of pork or rabbit, or with game, such as tenderloin of venison or elk, seared like the beef tenderloin here.

The marvelous melting qualities of authentic fontina are particularly evident in baked pasta dishes such as this delicious pasticcio. When it is in the oven with penne (or other tubular or concave pastas, like ziti, rigatoni, or shells), the molten cheese oozes around each piece of pasta and is caught in all of its nooks and crannies. The cheese on top of the pasticcio melts and then becomes crusty and caramelized.