Herbs & Spices

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 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.

Veal chops are always something of an extravagance, though worth it when well prepared. In this exciting recipe from Valle d’Aosta, thick rib chops are stuffed with the region’s prized fontina, browned, and braised on the stovetop, then baked. The result is quite grand, because the succulent meat and pan sauce are enriched with driblets and hidden pockets of sweet melted fontina. And if you want to go superluxe for a special occasion, shave fresh truffle on top of each chop just before serving. To return to earth, however, let me point out that you can make costolette alla fontina in more modest versions that are absolutely delicious and much easier on the pocketbook. For instance, you can form veal scallopine into envelopes to enclose the fontina, or stuff a veal loin chop, a thick pork chop, or a plump chicken breast in place of the veal rib chop. You may have to adjust the amount of cheese you put inside, and adjust the cooking time at each step to avoid overcooking. But if your meat, wine, olive oil, tomato paste, and broth are of fine quality, and—most important—if you use real fontina (and Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano), you will produce a splendid dish.

Gorgonzola and Taleggio are my favorites of Lombardy’s many fine cheeses. Both are made from rich cow’s milk, exclusively from animals that have grazed in the pastures of particular locales. The finest Taleggio, in my opinion, comes from small producers in the highlands north of Bergamo, where the cheese originated centuries ago. Creamy and soft when ripe, Taleggio is a superb table cheese, all by itself or with a piece of good bread or fruit (and at room temperature, of course). On my recent trips to Lombardy, though, I’ve appreciated it as a component of cooked dishes. As I’ve suggested in the recipes, fold it into any of the riso dishes in this chapter—after the heat is off—and you will love how it melts and lends its luxurious texture and complex flavors to the rice. Because it browns beautifully in a hot oven, Taleggio is a great cheese for a gratinato, as you will find when you try this very special recipe. Thick veal chops are browned, then braised in a sageinfused tomato sauce and finished in the oven under thin slivers of Taleggio and a sprinkle of grana. The golden crown of cheese over the tender meat is a perfect final touch. To be sure, this is an extravagant dish and demands the best ingredients. Meaty veal chops are always expensive, and these should be cut extra thick (either rib or, my preference, loin chops are suitable). And your Taleggio must come from a reliable cheesemonger who has allowed the cheese to ripen properly before it’s cut and sold—too young and you won’t get the full flavor. The cheese should be soft under the rind but not runny all the way through. In fact, you’ll need to chill ripe Taleggio in order to slice it thinly for the recipe. But the effort and expense are well worth it, as you’ll find when you taste your costolette al formaggio.

Risotto alla Milanese, which my chefs and I researched (and devoured) on our culinary expedition to Milano in 2008, has apparently been a signature dish of the city for over two centuries. A recipe for it appeared in the volume Cuoco Moderno—Modern Cook—published in Milano in 1809, by a mysterious author identified as “L.O.G.” His version had almost identical elements to today’s recipes: rice cooked in butter with onions, bone marrow, cervellato (a type of salami), good beef stock, and, at the end, the addition of saffron. Almost 100 years later, the revered authority Pellegrino Artusi included in his classic collection of Italian recipes a nearly identical risotto alla Milanese, including white wine in the preparation. In twenty-first-century Milano, Artusi’s techniques and ingredients are still the standard (though usually cervellato is omitted). I encourage you to use good beef stock and excellent fresh beef marrow bones to make a truly delicious risotto alla Milanese. The stock can be homemade or store-bought—low-sodium and organic if possible; otherwise, you could substitute chicken or turkey broth. To get the best marrow, ask the butcher for marrow bones cut from the center of the leg bone above the shank. Scraping out the marrow and cooking it is easy. If you’ve never done it, you will see that, as the marrow renders its delicious fat, brown carmelized specks appear. They could be strained out, but I don’t advise it; they provide great flavor, and traditional risotto alla Milanese incorporates them.

When you want to enjoy a risotto-style rice but don’t have the time for lots of prep and stirring, try this simple recipe. You’ll get the creaminess and toothsome bite of the rice grains and the wonderful flavor of fresh sage, one of my favorite herbs—or use rosemary, thyme, basil, or any other fresh herb you like. This makes a great primo all by itself and can be a delicious accompaniment to grilled or braised meat or fish dishes. I finish the rice with just a bit of butter and grated cheese, but you can add complexity by stirring in cubes of Taleggio or Gorgonzola, or any of your favorite cheeses. (And though I am happy to serve the rice with the sage leaves buried inside, you may pick them out, if you prefer, when the pot comes off the heat.)

In Trentino, this lively condiment of cooked apples and fresh horseradish is served with boiled beef, poached chicken, and all kinds of roasts. It’s great with many of the dishes in this chapter, especially the beer-braised chicken and beef and the fried and baked potato–celery root canederli. Since it is so easy to make in large volume, I serve it with roast turkey or ham at the holidays, and I hope you will, too. Cream is customary in the salsa (it counters the sharpness of the horseradish), but the flavor is good without it. And you can use more or less horseradish to suit your taste for its pungency.

Späetzle are little noodles or dumplings made by pressing a sticky dough through a perforated tool right into boiling water—one of the simplest of all the techniques by which pasta is made. These whole-wheat späetzle are especially delicious, dressed simply with butter and grated cheese, and make a good alternative to potatoes as a contorno accompanying roasts or braised meats. The key to making späetzle is having the right tool or utensil, with holes large enough to let the sticky dough pass through easily and quickly. You might have a colander that works, but I recommend that you buy a späetzle-maker designed for the job. There are different kinds—some slide like a mandoline; others extrude the dough, like potato ricers—and both types are inexpensive and easy to use. And you’ll use your späetzle-maker often, I am sure, after you make and taste a batch of spätzle di farina integrale.

To make this pasta sing, use the freshest, best-quality crab available, such as jumbo lump crabmeat, Dungeness, or king crab. Adjust the heat from the chiles and the amount of lemon juice to your liking.

All Thai curries start with a handful of aromatic ingredients (chiles, galangal, lemongrass, turmeric, etc.) pounded into a paste with a granite mortar and pestle. The paste is then stirred into soups or stews (often with coconut milk) or used as the basis of sautéed dishes. Use a mini-processor to make the curry paste if you'd like, although this incendiary stew will take on a deeper flavor if you use a granite mortar and pestle.

Ginger has anti-inflammatory properties and can also calm an upset stomach. We love the heat it adds to this soup.

While flipping through an Australian food magazine, my eyes were drawn to the appetizing green sauce in a photo of Indian-style meatballs. I am one of those people who do not rate cilantro as my favorite herb, but when I developed this dish to replicate the recipe at home, the sauce proved as delicious as it was attractive. Cook some basmati rice to serve with the meatballs.

My first New York restaurant job was at an American restaurant with a Thai chef. Thanks to him, I learned about Southeast Asian cooking well before its current popularity. One of his specialties was grilled lemongrass chicken, and I've adapted its flavors to these meatballs, served as they might be in Vietnam, on a bed of rice vermicelli with a tangy dipping sauce.

My life is all about banging things out, getting things done, moving fast—but sometimes a detour from the fast lane can be a good thing, even for me. Years ago, Gwen and I were on our way home from a road trip to the Canadian Maritimes when we were forced off the highway by some epic construction. We ended up on a wandering road that took us through a charming series of dying industrial towns. There was not much to see... and definitely nothing to eat. But then, in Fall River, Massachusetts, right at the border of Rhode Island, we stumbled across culinary gold: an old gas station converted into a root beer stand. The owner, a retired A&W root beer guy, was behind the counter; all he served was root beer in frosted glasses. Our root beer came with a long lecture about chilling the glass, not the root beer itself (that kills the taste). We sat at a broken-down old picnic table and sipped. I'm all about root beer, and that roadside glassful was the best I ever tasted. This recipe is my stab at bringing that taste to cake—because the only thing better than root beer is root beer plus cake. There's a mad-scientist component to this recipe: when you whisk the baking soda into the molasses and root beer, there's going to be some crazy bubbling up going on, straight out of sci-fi. Don't worry: it's completely normal.

Grits are one of the most iconic Southern foods around—so, being a red-blooded Northern boy, I thought I'd mess with them. I'm not totally unqualified, since grits aren't all that different from Italian dishes like risotto and polenta—but when I started thinking about how to brighten them up and make them a little more lively, I ended up over in the American Southwest. Go figure. Cooking time and liquid-to-grits ratios will be different depending on the type of grits you use, so make sure you check the directions on the box for that. These amounts are for Anson Mills Carolina Whole Hominy Quick Grits, which I like a lot.

The Thanksgiving table would not be complete without potatoes to absorb all that delicious gravy. Mashed potatoes are the most common, but sometimes you yearn for something with a bit more texture. That's where the Swiss rösti potato cake is ideal. Although you'll see some recipes for rösti that start with raw potatoes, it's more commonly done with whole cooked boiling potatoes that have been chilled at least eight hours, if not a day ahead. Once they are peeled and coarsely grated, you pack the shreds into a skillet and brown the cake on top of the stove. Instead of going through the angst of attempting to flip the cake over to brown the other side, just turn on the broiler and it browns easily in a fraction of the time.

This dish might not be to everyone's (westernized) taste on a hungover morning, and it's also a breakfast with many components—rice, grilled fish, miso soup, pickles and a Japanese-style omelette—and some relatively obscure ingredients. Having said that, this is as clean, wholesome and nutritious as breakfast gets, so if anything is going to make you feel better it may well be this. However, I advise you to steer clear of tofu with a hangover (vegetarians: you may shoot me now); I've used cubes of potato instead.

Carrots are my go-to snack. I eat about a pound a day around the kitchen, raw and crunchy. I don't know that my eyesight is any better, but who knows. This pickled version is great on a pickle plate or chopped up on a pork sandwich.