Rigatoni

Pasta, lush tomatoes, and a pool of ricotta lend this dish all the flavor of a lasagne—without the heaviness.

Umami-rich cheese and chicken stock make an encore appearance, but this time they share the spotlight with high-fiber chickpeas. Adding 1/2 cup of these lean beans to your daily diet can help you cut your consumption of fatty foods, a study in the journal Appetite notes

Anytime you add sausage to a pasta dish, you exponentially increase the number of people who are going to love it; by adding vegetables, you turn it into a complete meal, a win-win situation all around.

The secret ingredient in this dish is the garlicky croutons. I buy good-quality prepackaged garlic croutons from a local bakery and keep them in my pantry for emergencies (I also have been known to snack on them from time to time). You can certainly make them from scratch, but in this dish, it’s fine to substitute store-bought if you have a good source. I love the almondy and garlicky flavor the crumbs give the pasta.

Stroll through any Italian-American street fair and you’ll smell this classic combo. But while sausage and peppers are great in a sandwich, I think they’re even better tossed with rigatoni. Using turkey sausages instead of the more traditional pork also makes it a little lighter.

When Napoleon lifted up his brother-in-law Joachim Murat to the throne of Napoli in the early nineteenth century, he wittingly rubbed the gastronomic culture of the city to a high French polish. As the governor of Paris, Murat fixed for himself a popular reputation as gourmand, having conducted the business of his offices more often than not midst the ever-sumptuous, sometimes not-meant-to-be-eaten bas-relief of his banqueting tables. And trailing Murat to Napoli marched legions of French chefs. The great toques were an outlandish platoon, striding about the city’s marketplaces and food shops like so many swells among the rabble and answering only to the title monsieur. The irreverent Napoletani soon punished the word into monzù. But even without the genuflection of the masses, the French masters left rich, culinary impress. In the embrace of their hyperbole, there was nothing too spangled, their dishes mostly unredeemed paroxysms of the baroque in both component and construction. And one of their glory dishes was the timballo—the drum—recalling the high-sided round or oval forms in which the chefs built great, towering pies, as much for table architecture as for their eventual service as dinner. One version of the timballo asked for a deep mold upholstered in sweet short pastry, layered with pasta stuffed with veal sweetbreads, layered with the livers of game and whole fat, musky truffles, all of it robed in a salsa besciamella—béchamel—spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg and cloves. The timballo was roofed then in more pastry, painted with egg wash and baked golden as amber. Here follows a version less awkward to make, less fantastic, perhaps, but no less sublime for its relative restraint. When preparing any one of the cinque brasati di carne con pomodori (page 67), increase the amount so that some might be saved, then used to flavor the timballo.

Two types of peas are cooked along with the pasta in this one-pot dish, so everything finishes at once. The vegetables should be cooked just long enough that their colors stay vibrant and they are warmed through.

VELVETY EGGPLANT, that beloved summer vegetable, comes to life in this easy pasta sauce. If you’re short on time, you can make the sauce ahead; it tastes even better the next day. For a more substantial dish, serve it with your favorite Italian-style chicken sausage. A short, sturdy pasta like rigatoni, rotini, or penne is the best choice for this chunky sauce.

WHY IT’S LIGHT A springtime pasta dish forgoes heavy sauce in favor of a toss-together topping of arugula, lemon zest and juice, and extra-virgin olive oil. A generous amount of Pecorino Romano cheese ensures the dish satisfies both appetite and palate.

This dish hails from northern Italy, where the climate is mushroom-happy and cream sauces are the norm. In lean times, frugal Italian cooks often substituted mushrooms for meat in dishes like this one because their meaty texture and earthy flavor give the sauce real substance. I often make this as a veggie option for parties, and even the carnivores go for it.

This is a recipe that everybody loves, easy to make and exemplary of Italian home cooking. Its roots are most likely somewhere with the shepherd community of the Apennines. Traditionally, it includes pasta, ricotta, and some meat in a casing, like sausage or salami. The other ingredients are delicious contemporary additions.

Customize this toss-and-serve pasta dish by adding any— or all—of the suggested toppings.

Want to add meat to this meal? Consider strips of salami or prosciutto.

Any recipe that includes the words creamy, spicy, and sausage is going to get our attention. For this number we just add peas for a little sweetness and color, then serve it over rigatoni. Not only is this dish satisfying and elegant, but you can have it on the table in the time it takes to cook the pasta.

When I am in Dallas, I make sure to stop in at the Palomino, where the chef puts a unique spin on mac and cheese. He uses rigatoni and goat cheese. It’s so creamy and delicious, I finally asked the chef for the recipe so I can make it myself at home! Make sure to use regular, unflavored soft goat cheese.

Traditionally, this rich dish is served as a main course, and as a kid that’s the way I ate it. But it also works in our health-conscious world as a starter or a side with something fresher and lighter—say, grilled fish drizzled with lemon juice or grilled meat. A creamy, cheesy dish like this is just the thing to make you feel coddled, as if your dining room is the coziest spot on earth.

This tasty Italian-American invention (you just won’t find it in Italy) looks like it’s a heavy dish, but the vodka kicks in and heats up the back of your throat to cut through the heavy cream. You can buy it in a jar, but because it’s a cinch to make and very yummy, it’s definitely worth taking the few minutes to make it from scratch. I like to serve it with rigatoni or penne.

I’ve made this a lot. Even though it’s completely vegetarian, it tastes very full-bodied and complex, with a deep, winy flavor that even meat-lovers will enjoy. I serve it often when I am cooking for a crowd and don’t know how many vegetarians may be in the group.

This recipe comes from a beachside cafe in Capri. Prawns are very popular in Europe, where they are abundant, but here they are a bit harder to find and a little more expensive. Feel free to substitute extra-large shrimp in their place—or leave them out altogether. It will still be a very satisfying, hearty meal. The squash makes the most luxurious, velvety sauce imaginable, with a beautiful orange color.

If possible, buy only the larger joints of the oxtail, since there is more meat on the bones and less work picking it off. But usually (and almost always in supermarkets) a single tail is cut and packaged together. If you’re ordering oxtail through a butcher, ask him to remove as much of the outer fat as possible, and to cut the oxtail cleanly at the joints. If the tail is cut haphazardly, bone chips can occur, which are annoying and can be very dangerous. It’s always a good idea to pick over the pieces of oxtail before you cook with them, to make sure there are no fine pieces of bone. In the traditional Roman dish of coda alla vaccinara, the cheeks of the oxen are braised along with the oxtails. Because this is a very rich and savory sauce, I do not use cheese to dress the pasta, but some people do. I’ll leave it up to you. If you decide to dress the pasta with cheese, use grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. The braised oxtails, left on the bone, make an excellent cold-weather main course, served with polenta. If you’re serving the oxtails as a main course, you might want to cut the vegetables larger, so they hold their shape during cooking.