Keto

Celery is often underappreciated as a principal salad ingredient. The inner stalks of the head have a wonderful freshness, flavor, and delicacy when thinly sliced. Here I’ve paired them with fresh baby artichoke slices in a salad with lots of bright, subtle flavors and all kinds of crunch. Shards of hard cheese—either Parmigiano-Reggiano or Grana Padano—lend even more complexity to the mix. Use only firm and very small artichokes for this: they should feel tight and almost squeak when you squeeze them, and they should have no choke.

Serve this colorful and delicious salad as a first course by itself, with other antipasti, or with grilled foods. You can use this low-fat method of preparing eggplant in other dishes too. I top it with shavings of ricotta salata (ricotta that has been salted and dried in a small round cheese form for about 4 weeks).

This is a great spring salad with two long, lovely green vegetables that have a real affinity for each other (try the Asparagus, Green Pea, and Scallion Sauce for pasta in chapter 3). It is delicious as an antipasto or a first course, or as a side dish to grilled meat and fish. You can serve this salad chilled, but I like it at room temperature. If you haven’t poached scallions before, be sure to note how nicely it brings out the flavors in a mellow way. And here’s a thrifty cooking tip: scallion trimmings are some of the most useful scraps in the kitchen. A handful of leaves and the root ends can make an instant broth, as a substitute for stock—see my recipe for Simple Vegetable Broth, page 288.

These small frittate make a wonderful appetizer cut in wedges and served at room temperature. Or serve one per person as a nice lunch dish. We always thought they were best made in the springtime, when nettles, fennel fronds, young shoots of wild asparagus, or ramps could be gathered in the fields. But if you are more city-bound, you can infuse the eggs with fresh thyme leaves, parsley, and chives, which you can get year-round.

This is a special salad worthy of your homemade tonno sott’olio. You blanch the tomatoes and scallions, and briefly sauté the red onion to mellow pungency and soften textures. The salad needs a good hour of marinating to let the sweet and savory flavors mingle. Incidentally, leftovers make great juicy sandwiches. I recommend white balsamic vinegar here, to wilt the red onion and dress the salad. White balsamic is not a traditional product, but it comes from Modena, like any decent balsamic, and it has a clean taste and a light color that don’t muddy dishes the way dark balsamic can. If you can’t find it, use regular wine vinegar. You may also use top-quality canned tuna in this salad, but drain and discard the packing oil and substitute fresh extra-virgin olive oil in the dressing and sauté.

Canned tuna is a staple in my kitchen—in one of the cupboards, there’s always a tall stack of colorful cans of excellent Italian tonno in olio di oliva. Tuna packed in olive oil is the only kind to have, in my opinion, and I make it the basis for many meals, sometimes some pasta for lunch or dinner, or a salad for myself, my mother, and Gianni, or sandwiches for the kids. But when I want the best marinated tuna, I make my own marinated tonno sott’olio: I poach thick tuna steaks gently for 15 minutes, let them cool and dry for a couple of hours, then pack the fish in jars in big chunks, submerged in extra-virgin olive oil. It is truly simple, as this recipe will show you. If you love tuna, then I know you will make this recipe your own. Just a chunk of it on a plate, with nothing more than a drizzle of the marinating oil, makes a great antipasto. Or dress it up with onion or tomatoes, as I suggest for Marinated Mackerel (pages 4 and 5). Use it in the colorful salad I give you here with cherry tomatoes, red onion, and scallions, or see how tonno sott’olio takes your own favorite tuna salad to a new level. And don’t miss the opportunity to make the outstanding pasta sauce with tomatoes on page 14. With this recipe you’ll have about 2 pounds of tuna, in jars or crocks of oil. Stored in the refrigerator, it will keep for a month or more, giving you plenty of time to try it in several different dishes. But I guarantee you’ll want more: to make larger batches, just multiply the ingredients and follow the basic procedures.

In Sicily, citrus fruits (agrumi) are enjoyed as a savory as well as a sweet, usually served between courses or at the end of a meal. A salad—called pirettu—is made from thick-skinned citrons (cedri). The green rind is peeled off, the center pulp is discarded, and the pith is sliced and dressed with salt, pepper, oil, and a pinch of sugar. Since fresh citrons are hard to find in America, here’s another citrus salad popular in Sicily, especially in the winter months, when oranges are at their best. Customarily it is made with blood oranges—sanguine or tarocchi—and that’s the way I like it best, though any small, juicy oranges will be delicious. Serve this in the Sicilian style, laying the rounds of orange and rings of red onion artfully on a platter with the dressing drizzled over, rather than tossing everything together. It is great as an appetizer, a refreshing end-of-the-meal salad, or an accompaniment to boiled or grilled meats.

This is one of those simple recipes loaded with flavor that I am sure you will make part of your cooking repertoire. The fennel’s sweetness and tinge of licorice are concentrated by the braising and balanced by the acidity and the saltiness of the capers. Almost all of the moisture needed in cooking comes from the fennel itself, rather than from other liquids, concentrating the vegetable’s natural flavors.

Everyone loves roasted potatoes, and here they are tossed with slivered artichokes (already skillet-cooked with onion and garlic), lots of fresh oregano, and extra-virgin olive oil. It is a completely vegetarian dish full of flavor that will transport your table to the Seven Hills. Serve with grilled fish or meat, especially grilled lamb chops. Or simply turn this dish into a crispy baked treat by adding some shredded young Pecorino Romano, spreading it over the potatoes and artichokes in the last 5 minutes of baking.

This dish accents the meatiness of the artichoke. Braised slowly with the tomatoes, it develops a harmonious flavor, sweet with a refreshing licorice finish. Since this recipe calls for a lot of artichokes, I make it when they are plentiful. Serve with a piece of grilled meat or fish, or make some extra to spread on bread as an appetizer. Use as a dressing for pasta, or to make a risotto. These braised artichokes can be frozen, so make a big batch to pull out when unexpected guests come by.

Bistecca fiorentina is what everyone eats when traveling to Tuscany, but since I have taken you to Maremma, I want to share with you the way they cook and eat bistecche in Maremma. One would expect that in this cattle-grazing region, the bistecca would be from the longhorns that roam the hills and pastures there, and traditionally it was. But the Maremma is not known for tender meat, and today on the grills of the best places and homes in Maremma you will find beef from Chianina. Still, although the meat may be Chianina, the preparation still reflects Maremma. The cut of the meat is a porterhouse steak, which is similar to a T-bone steak but with a larger cross-section of the tenderloin (filet mignon) along one side of the “T.” The loin of the Chianina is enormous; hence the big pieces of meat that surround the T-bone. Choose a prime or “top choice” steak that has been aged properly for 2 to 3 weeks.

Antico peposo, a very old recipe for cubed beef, is cooked with lots of pepper and no other condiment—not even a drop of oil or any other fat—and it becomes a delightfully savory and peppery dish. The dish probably dates back to medieval times, when there was no refrigeration and meat was preserved with salt or lots of pepper and herbs. Once the meat was embedded with the pepper, it was cooked just as it was. Or with a little wine and garlic. My peposo uses only a fraction of the amount of black peppercorns that are in traditional recipes, but it will still please even the most fanatic pepper-lover: this is peppery! To balance the spiciness of the meat and mop up the sauce, you need some starch. I like to serve the peposo with one of the following: polenta, boiled or mashed potatoes, gnocchi, or just beans cooked with olive oil.

The foothills of the Apennines line the eastern part of the Maremma and provide a congenial habitat for many species of wildlife, notably wild boar. As they range the hills, foraging at different altitudes, their diet varies, from rough vegetation to earthy treasures like acorns, chestnuts, and hazelnuts. Boar is prepared in infinite ways, from curing it and making sausages, prosciutto, and salami, to braising and roasting it. As with domestic pigs, the flavor of boar meat varies according to what the animal has consumed. Part of the luck of the hunt is bagging a boar that has feasted on acorns or chestnuts rather than meager plant foods—you can taste the difference. Here in the States, boar are domestically raised, though often allowed free range like true wild boar. The meat is generally excellent, complex in flavor and surprisingly tender. It is also easily purchased, over the Internet, right from the producers or through specialty-food merchants (see Sources, page 340) but it is expensive and you can use pork tenderloins instead in this recipe (but marinate them for only half the time). If you’ve not tried boar, this recipe for tenderloins will be a tasty and easy introduction. After marinating for several hours in wine and aromatics, the filets need only brief cooking on the stovetop. Most of the work here is transforming the marinade into a beautiful, savory-sweet condiment with plump apple wedges and prunes. It is a memorable special-occasion dish.

Like Antico Peposo, page 195, this is a rugged, spicy, Maremma-style meat stew—chunks of pork marinated in wine, then browned and braised with ground fennel, peperoncino, and black olives. Traditionally, secondary cuts of pork were used for this dish, but if you prefer, pork chops can be substituted for the pork shoulder. Just keep in mind not to overcook them—use less stock, and cook for a shorter time. Serve with Braised Swiss Chard and Cannellini Beans, page 175, or polenta.

Pollo alla cacciatora is served in many regions of Italy, but when you see lots of fresh rosemary and tomatoes it is a dead giveaway—you know it is from Tuscany. And in this case the dish is typical of Maremma, straightforward and elementary, with nothing more than good chicken, good tomatoes, and fresh rosemary to make it delicious. This dish ought to be done in advance, as it gets better as it sits. Though it is delicious served as is with just some crusty bread, I especially love it with polenta. And when it is too hot to cook polenta, some tubular pasta, like rigatoni, will do just fine. If you have some left over, just pluck the meat off the bones and save it for another meal, to dress pasta or make a risotto with it.

This is one of the simplest recipes in this book, and it is one of the most sublime. Yes, truffles add a mystique—but even without them this is my favorite way to cook eggs. Essential to this procedure is never to allow the olive oil to reach temperatures at which heat alters and degrades the flavors. Hence, you will ultimately have the full presence of fresh olive oil in a natural state intermingled with the egg and truffle flavors. Thus, the quality of the olive oil is paramount here, more than in most cooked dishes. I like using lighter and more vegetal olive oils from the Lago di Garda district, Friuli-Venezia Giulia, or Istria. Another important point is to keep the curd of the egg large and soft. The steady but gentle dragging of the curds—strapazzati means “dragged”—and controlled heat prevents any part from cooking solid, and in this moist state all the natural flavor of the egg comes through. As with olive oil, the best quality eggs are essential—as fresh as can be, and organic if possible. There is a basic lesson to be learned in this recipe that applies to Italian cooking—for that matter, to all cooking—get the best ingredients, do not overcrowd the flavors, and work the food as little as possible. Along with this lesson, I am sure, you’ll get some of the best scrambled eggs you’ve ever tasted—even without truffles.

Bagna cauda is one of Piemonte’s best-known dishes. The name means “warm bath,” and that’s what it is: a sauce of garlic, butter, oil, and anchovy heated in a deep earthenware container set on the table over a little flame, like a fondue pot. Also on the table are arrayed a great variety of cut vegetables, raw and cooked, to be dipped in the piping-hot sauce, eaten, and savored. In Piemonte, bagna cauda will always include some of the fabulous vegetables for which the region is renowned, such as cardi gobbi from Nizza Monferrato, and the gorgeous long peppers of Carmagnola. At home I serve an assortment of seasonal vegetables: You’ll find some suggestions on the next page. This is a great starter on the table or for a buffet. To make more sauce for a crowd, simply multiply the ingredient amounts given in the recipe.

Antipasti are, for me, the best part of a Piedmontese meal. At any family gathering (and in restaurants as well), the platters of different antipasti just never stop coming. And at some point in the procession, roasted peppers stuffed with tuna will arrive at the table. The combination of sweet, meaty peppers and well-seasoned oil-cured tuna is always delightful. In Piemonte, cooks are discriminating about the peppers they roast, and most sought are those from Carmagnola, a town in the countryside south of Torino. Carmagnola peppers are justly famous, for wonderful flavor as well as their vivid colors and distinctive shapes, like the corno di bue (ox horn) and trottola (spinning top). Carmagnola also is well known for il coniglio grigio di Carmagnola—the gray rabbit from Carmagnola—considered to be one of the best in Italy. Here in the States, any fresh, meaty sweet bell-type peppers are suitable—different colors make a nice presentation. And peppers are always best roasted and peeled at home, though a jar of roasted red peppers can be substituted if you are short on time. (If you have no peppers at all, this tuna filling is delicious on crostini or crackers—it makes a world-class tuna-fish sandwich too.)

Squash is not one of the most popular vegetables, but I love it and love cooking with it. It is nutritious, versatile, and delicious. Northern Italy consumes more zucca—winter squash—than southern Italy, especially in the areas near Modena in Emilia-Romagna, and Padova in the Veneto. This is a great side dish or appetizer. Traditionally, the zucca is fried before it is marinated, as I do here, but the dish is also delicious when made with grilled or boiled zucca. I recommend butternut squash, but acorn, Hubbard, and other varieties will work as well.