Veal

When I was a kid growing up in the Midwest, my friends and I would always pick up big packages of bratwurst to grill while watching sporting events. I wanted to re-create the sausage of my youth, and I think these bratwurst come pretty close. This is a simple, classic sausage; serve it on a crunchy roll with mustard and sauerkraut.

A heaping platter of spaghetti and meatballs evokes a feeling of comfort—perfect for a family get-together. The stars of this dish are the meatballs, of course, and they don't disappoint—lots of garlic and Parmigiano-Reggiano give them a robust flavor that stands up to the hearty tomato sauce.

There's no doubt about it: this magnificent cut of meat puts any humble braised brisket to shame.

My mom's meat loaf is inarguably better than yours, but this is not my mom's meat loaf recipe. This one is an amalgam, intended to evoke all the important meat loaves in my life—and there have been many.

Want to show someone you really care? Make them our ultimate spaghetti and meatballs.

Editor's note: Use this recipe to make Chef John Besh's Basic Fond de Veau. I never make a strong beef stock, preferring instead the viscosity, collagen, and more delicate flavor that comes from using veal bones. This Veal Stock is based on veal shanks.

This sauce is the cook's best friend and the building block of many great French dishes. The powdered stuff sold in stores is not even in the same ballpark. This fond, or foundation sauce, takes my Basic Veal Stock then flavors and reduces it to intensify its power. Fond de Veau does require a bit of preparation and is probably the most expensive sauce I use, but it is so worth it for the potent, authentic flavor it confers to something like sautéed porcini mushrooms or as literally the secret sauce in the Ragout of Lamb Shoulder with Cavatelli.

In Milan, osso buco is traditionally served on a bed of creamy saffron risotto and topped with a pungent, colorful topping of garlic, lemon zest, parsley, and anchovies known as gremolata.

This recipe makes quite a bit of stock, but that's a blessing since it must cook for 24 hours. Freeze it in 1-quart containers (or smaller) so it's handy for later use. If you are pressed for time, by all means begin with a prepared version of demiglace (available in most grocery stores or online, such as Demi-Glace Gold brand), and dilute it with 2 to 3 parts water—this is a fine and practical option to making your own veal stock.

This recipe is part of the Epicurious Online Cooking School, in partnership with the Culinary Institute of America. To watch it being made, and to learn how to make other Italian classics, check out the videos.

"If gumbo is the national stew of Cajun country, burgoo is the stew of Kentucky," Ronni Lundy asserts in her book Shuck Beans, Stack Cakes, and Honest Fried Chicken. Because the stew is made in many different ways with a variety of ingredients, the "Burgoo Song" by Robert Myles claims, "You can toss in almost anything that ever walked or flew." Many early recipes for burgoo include squirrel in addition to chicken, beef, and pork. In Kentucky, Anderson County, which hosts its Burgoo Festival every September, is known as the burgoo capital of the world. Arenzville, Illinois, makes a similar claim. But the French lay claim to the basic concept of burgoo, and it's conceivable that the word burgoo arose somehow from the French ragout (pronounced ra-goo), also a term describing a stew. Burgoo makers agree • Burgoo should be made in stages: cook the meat first, and then add the vegetables.
• No less than 4—6 hours should be devoted to making burgoo. Some recipes call for a 24-hour cooking period.
• Burgoo should contain more than one meat.
• Burgoo should be prepared outdoors over an open fire.

This “white” stew borrows a nonbrowning method commonly used in making blanquette de veau, one of the canons of French cuisine. In that dish, a stew of veal, onions, and mushrooms is blanketed in a creamy sauce. The meat is never browned (hence the term “white stew”); the stock is thickened with a roux and, traditionally, a secondary thickener called a liaison, made with egg and cream, making it exceptionally rich. This recipe, however, opts for springtime produce over the usual vegetables and makes the liaison optional (you can omit the egg and just stir in the cream, without tempering). To make a classic blanquette de veau, see the variation that follows.

Making homemade pâté, of course, is all about grinding. Here again, you can always buy a ready-made pâté from a specialty store, but making your own allows you total command of the quality of the ingredients and the freshness of the finished product. This recipe is for a country-style pâté, which means that it’s more rustic in texture and appearance than a smoother, mousse-like pâté. Country-style pâté usually includes chicken liver as well as pork and veal. The mixture is ground coarsely, and small cubes of meat, bits of fruit, and nuts—called garnishes—are folded in before the whole thing is packed into a terrine and baked. Maintaining the desired texture depends on making sure that all the ingredients—as well as the grinding equipment itself—are well chilled before you grind. Place everything in the freezer (the grinder for a half hour, the meat for fifteen minutes or so), so it’s very cold, then grind the meats according to their fat content, starting with the fattiest, as these are most likely to lose their structure and become pasty if ground when warm. After baking the terrine in a water bath (bain marie), the final, vital step is weighting the pâté to compress it, eliminating excess moisture and fat and giving it a sliceable texture. Once the terrine is compressed and well chilled, unmold it, then slice with a serrated knife, which will cut cleanly without marring the shape. Serve with its classic accompaniments: good bread, a flavorful grainy mustard, and cornichons.

Wiener schnitzel (German for “Viennese cutlet”) is a time-honored Austrian dish believed to be inspired by the Italian methods of cooking cutlets known as Milanese or scaloppine. All of these are variations of the same technique: a cutlet (either veal, chicken, or pork) is coated with flour, then beaten egg, then bread crumbs before being pan-fried to a golden crisp. What distinguishes Wiener schnitzel from other sautéed meats is that the pan-fried cutlets pay a second visit to the pan for a last-minute dip into sizzling butter. Because the cutlets are breaded in a three-step method, they have a wonderfully crisp crust. The method is ideal when pan-frying cutlets and other smaller pieces since they will be able to cook through in the same time the crust turns crisp and brown. The process is simple but each step has a purpose: The flour creates a dry surface for the egg to cling to, while the egg serves as the “glue” for the breading, and the crumb coating (such as bread crumbs, panko, or ground nuts) adds unbeatable texture and flavor. Pat or press the crumbs firmly onto the meat and gently shake off any excess.

Brown stock gets its color—and its flavor—from the initial step of roasting bones and vegetables, often with a bit of tomato paste added to promote browning and impart a caramelized flavor, as well as a touch of acidity. After the contents of the pan are transferred to a stockpot, the pan is deglazed (either with water or red wine) to incorporate all the flavorful browned bits, which then, too, get added to the pot. In classical French cooking, brown stock is made with veal bones to produce a delicate-bodied soup. In the recipe that follows, beef is added for deeper flavor, but you can replace the beef with more veal bones (or veal stew meat) for the traditional version. Brown stock can also be made with chicken (see variation); this would be ideal for using in more robust dishes, such as braised meats. Heed the general rules for making all stocks, including simmering very gently, skimming frequently, and keeping enough liquid in the pot so that everything is submerged at all times. Brown stock is also the basis for other classic preparations, including demi glace and glace de viande (see page 52).

When I was building the Pizzeria menu, I wanted it to be a true Italian pizzeria experience with a nod to the Italian-American pizzerias that I grew up eating in. With those American pizzerias in mind, I felt that we had to offer meatballs. What I really wanted to serve was a meatball sandwich, but as strongly as I argued for it, Matt argued against it. He softened over time and finally, two years after the Pizzeria opened, I got my meatballs—not as a sandwich, but as an antipasto: a bowl of meatballs served with buttered semolina toast on the side. Today they are the most popular antipasto in the restaurant.

Whoever named sweetbreads had an ingenious idea—to give such a nice-sounding name to a part of the animal, the thymus gland, that doesn’t sound all that appetizing. I’ve found that despite the clever name, otherwise open-minded eaters are often squeamish when it comes to eating sweetbreads—a shame, since they can be out of this world. These are seared so they have a crisp exterior and creamy interior. Sweetbreads and artichokes are a pretty typical Italian pairing, and one that I love. While this isn’t a difficult dish to make, it does require several steps, so plan ahead.

One of my favorite daytrips from my house in Italy is to the town of Panzano in Chianti, to visit the world-famous butcher Dario Cecchini. Dario has been covered by every food publication imaginable, and since Bill Buford wrote about him in his memoir, Heat, Dario’s shop has become a mecca for foodies traveling in Italy. To meet the demand of his fans, Dario now has three restaurants that people can visit while they’re there: a steakhouse serving prime cuts, such as bistecca fiorentina, a classic preparation of a T-bone or porterhouse grilled over a wood fire; a hamburger restaurant, Dario Plus; and my favorite of the three, Solo Ciccia. This restaurant, whose name means “only meat,” offers lesser cuts of meats prepared in a variety of ways, many of them cooked long and slow, or stracotto, like this dish. Veal breast isn’t something you’ll find at your average grocery store, so you’ll have to get it from a butcher, and you will probably have to special-order it. Ask the butcher to save the bones he carved the breast from, as you’ll use those to make the stock in which the meat is braised. While you’re at it, have him roll and tie the breast for you, too. Even though this might be out of your ordinary shopping routine, the good news is that you’ll end up with a rich, luxurious veal dish for not a lot of money.

Prior to his working at Del Posto, Matt went to Italy with Mario for a story for Gourmet. The premise of the story was that Mario was taking his chefs and the general manager from Del Posto to Italy, specifically to the center of Emilia-Romagna, to show them what it was like to eat there. They ate sixty-two courses in five days and Matt had a lot of dishes to talk about, but the one he was most excited about was the ragù bolognese he had at Diana, a restaurant just outside the main piazza in Bologna. It was as if his eyes had just been opened. He called me right after that meal: “It was rich but delicate and with a touch of sweetness,” he told me. When they got back to New York, while Matt was relegated to the soup station of the kitchen, Mark Ladner and Mark’s team at Del Posto attempted to create a bolognese that captured the spirit of the one at Diana. When Matt tasted Mark’s version, he called me again, excited: “They did it!” he said. “They nailed it.” And that— the Del Posto version of the Diana bolognese—was what Matt was going for when we opened Mozza. Having eaten at Diana myself, I can also tell you that Matt nailed it. When making bolognese, the most important thing is to go slow. You never want the meat to cook directly against the pan, because you want to braise the meat, not brown it. The “secret” to it is the Soffritto, which takes several hours to make—so give yourself time. This is slow food!

This lasagne was designed for a deep-dish baking pan. You can use a standard 9 × 13-inch baking pan, but you will have excess sauce; the sauce can be frozen and used over pasta another time. The lasagne can be assembled up to 1 day ahead and left to cool completely. Cover, unbaked, and refrigerate up to 1 day in advance, or freeze, unbaked, up to 3 weeks in advance. Defrost overnight in the refrigerator; bake as directed below.

(Can be prepared ahead of time.)