Pecorino

I’d heard of hunkar begendi and even tried it in Turkish restaurants elsewhere before I went to Istanbul, but I was not prepared for the reverence it inspires. Not only is this dish delicious—its name means “Sultan’s Delight”—but its appearance causes a hush to fall over a table. This is great stuff, a creamy, eggplant-laced béchamel topped with tender braised lamb. It’s a fair amount of work, but worth it.

I featured this little group of recipes in my New York Times column and in The Minimalist Cooks Dinner, but it’s so instructive, important, and wonderful that I felt it belonged here as well. All (well, almost all) the variations begin with bits of cured meat cooked until crisp, around which are built a number of different sauces of increasing complexity. Most people insist that the “genuine” meat for these recipes is pancetta—salted, cured, and rolled pork belly. Pancetta is available at almost any decent Italian deli and at many specialty stores, but you can use bacon (or even better, if you can find it, guanciale, which is cured pig’s jowl; see the back of the book for mail-order sources). Pecorino Romano is the cheese of choice here, but Parmesan is also good.

The artichoke is in the thistle family. One medium to large artichoke will yield approximately 2 ounces of delicious edible flesh. An artichoke is fresh when it squeaks as you squeeze it, and feels heavy in your hand for its size. Look for a deep olive green on the outside, and pale tender green on the inside of the petals. Artichokes will last fresh about a week. To store them, sprinkle them with cold water, and refrigerate in an airtight bag. Wash only before using. Italians have endless ways to enjoy artichokes, but I love them in this pasta dish with a little bacon added, a perfect harmony.

Cauliflower, a good vegetable especially in the winter, can be prepared in many ways. I sometimes like just to boil it and while the cauliflower is boiling, add an egg or two to boil as well. When the cauliflower and the eggs cool, I peel the eggs, then toss the cauliflower and eggs into a great salad, dressed just with olive oil and vinegar. But the following is a recipe I got from Torrisi in New York, a deli-looking place set up with sixteen seats for dining. The cauliflower I had was delicious, and the bread crumbs used were made by Progresso, which was started by Italian immigrants in New Orleans in 1905.

Broccoli rabe grew wild in Italy, especially in southern Italy; in places like Puglia, Calabria, Basilicata, and Sicily it was abundant and free for the picking, and thus used especially to dress pasta dishes. Orecchiette, a pasta that has an indentation from being dragged with the finger on a board, was the pasta of choice. All of these regions are on the sea, and mussels were cheap and abundant as well. So it would seem natural that the three ingredients come together to make this wonderful dish. Now broccoli rabe is abundant in the United States, thanks to Andy Boy vegetable growers in California. This recipe is a delightful combination.

Broccoli rabe, the leafy bitter almond-flavored vegetable consumed by the Italians for centuries, has found its way into American hearts. It is great just braised with olive oil and garlic; it makes an excellent soup; it is also delicious stuffed and as a flavoring in some crunchy Italian bread. But I love it with pasta, and not with just any pasta—I love it with orecchiette (little earlobes). Rapini, as it is called in Italy, is a plant in the mustard family that grew wild, especially in southern Italy. In America, the largest producer is Andy Boy, a company founded by Stephen and Andrew D’Arrigo, emigrants from Sicily, who officially named the rapini “broccoli rabe.” They knew that the vegetable that was part of their family table in Italy would make it to the American table.

This delicate and quite simple ravioli is a lovely way to enjoy the affinity of pear and cheese. The filling is a lively blend of shredded ripe pear, shredded 3- to-6-months-aged Pecorino Romano (it should be semisoft), and mascarpone—just stirred together at the last moment.

Escarole is a great vegetable that is used much in Neapolitan cuisine, in soups and salads or just braised with garlic and oil. In this recipe, blanched escarole leaves are wrapped around a savory stuffing (as cabbage often is) and baked. Serve these rolls as an elegant antipasto, or as a vegetarian main course.

Two things you should know about me and carpaccio: First, I don’t like carpaccio you can see through; I cut mine a little thicker, which gives it better texture and body. Second, I like my carpaccio loaded, the way some people think of nachos or pizza. Here I use some bococcini de pecorino that we keep in the restaurants and some tender baby arugula, but you could use shaved porcini mushrooms, shaved raw artichokes, or sautéed chanterelles—whatever you like. Just load it up.

I came up with this pizza idea when sampling the beautifully made charcuterie of Nathan Anda, who sells at farmers’ markets in the Washington, D.C., area. When he pulled out a package of fatty German-style speck and suggested that it would melt on top of pizza, I had to try it with a bagful of mushrooms I bought from a nearby vendor. He was right: The fat from the speck basted the mushrooms in richness. If you can’t find German-style speck, substitute Italian lardo raw, thinly sliced bacon.

Parmesan and beans sounds an unlikely coupling but I recommend it. Pecorino, a young one, is a possibility here too, or one of the hard sheep’s cheeses British cheese makers are getting so good at.

Among the charcoal and garlic of midsummer’s more robust cooking, a quiet salad of palest green can come as a breath of calm. Last June, as thousands joined hands around Stonehenge in celebration of the summer solstice, I put together a salad of cool notes: mint, fava beans, and young peas—a bowl of appropriate gentility and quiet harmony.

Cheese is the savior of chard, as a crisp crust, a seasoning for soup, a luscious sauce, bringing out its qualities while introducing a note of luxury. Often, the bolder the cheese the more interesting the result, so a well-matured British cheese is a wise choice for something like a shallow chard tart. As a sort of double whammy, I add cheese to the pastry as well as the filling.

When friends found out I was writing a book on ice cream, many felt compelled to “help out” by passing along really odd flavor combinations they’d either seen or heard of. But somehow, I just couldn’t seem to get enthusiastic about combinations like Clam-Raisin or Duck Fat Swirl. However, when Judy Witts raved about this combination, which she’d enjoyed at her local gelateria in Florence, it piqued my interest. After a bit of trial and error, I discovered that the key to preserving the character of pecorino is to very finely dice the cheese rather than grating it. The little bites of salty cheese are the perfect counterpoint to the fruity, pear-flavored custard.

Eggs, bacon, and cheese, oh my! After a long shift in the kitchen and a few glasses of wine, carbonara is a chef’s late-night favorite. It’s fast, flavorful, and oh-so-satisfying. The thing is, as much as I love it, carbonara poses a bit of a dichotomy for me because while it involves some of my very favorite ingredients (eggs, bacon, and cheese), it also includes my nemesis: black pepper. The thing is, this is such a classic preparation that black pepper really belongs here—so I use it.

I love sugar snaps because they’re crispy, they’re crunchy, and they’re snappy! Just blanch, shock, and cut them into little slivers to enjoy the full sugar snappy experience. To keep things interesting, toss in some minty fresh deliciousness and some salty, crispy prosciutto! Now that’s what I call a summertime salad.

This is one of my best recipes (if I do say so myself!) and it’s become one of my mom’s favorites, too. People will say, “What is this?” and then, “Who knew you could eat raw asparagus?” It’s simple and unique and, I promise, it will make you a rock star with your guests.

Escarole is one of those greens I LOOOOOVE to use in a salad. It has a firm texture and an exciting flavor; to me it’s a sleeper hit. Whether you cook it or dress it with a nice bright vinaigrette, escarole stands up to whatever you dish out—it’s a green with a strong personality. Add a big ol’ acid punch with these onions, and this is what I call a party in your mouth.

Cooking spaghetti squash in the microwave steams the squash and the strands come out nicely—unlike cooking it in a conventional oven, which can cause the strands to bake to the skin. A simple quick fresh pesto is a snappy sauce for the steamed squash.

With just a handful of ingredients, this fall favorite is super easy to make and at the same time really comforting. The mild sweetness of butternut squash mingling with the rich nuttiness of brown butter and the delicate, woodsy aroma of sage is downright delicious. Cutting up butternut squash is a notoriously difficult task because of its thickness and density. The most important thing to remember when cutting winter squash is to keep the piece you are working on as stable as possible.

My kids, Ella, Lulu, and Harry, love making pizza at home and getting their hands in the dough. You don’t need a special oven to make great pizza at home, although I recommend purchasing a pizza stone from your local kitchen store to ensure a crispy and crunchy crust. While you are at it, pick up a pizza paddle too. They often are sold as a set and run only around $30, so they’re not a major investment. The pizza dough in Basics is extremely versatile and can be topped with basically anything you can come up with. Here I wanted to come up with a vegetarian pizza that was so packed with interesting flavors, no one would miss the meat. Radicchio and arugula provide a slightly bitter balance to the melted and wondrous cheeses.