Italian American

This simple yet timeless Italian dish demonstrates beautifully the process of sautéing: cutlets—most often chicken or veal—are dredged with flour, then sautéed in a mixture of olive oil and butter, a typical combination that is practical and flavorful. The flour encourages the chicken to form a light crust (and helps thicken the pan sauce), the butter helps it to brown, and the oil raises the smoke point so the butter doesn’t brown too much before the chicken is cooked through. A simple pan sauce is the only accompaniment, and is designed to make good use of the tasty browned bits left in the pan from cooking the chicken.

A well-made risotto is a culinary feat: Small, firm grains of rice float, suspended, in a rich, creamy sauce. When scooped onto a shallow plate or bowl, a good risotto should have a loose consistency, rippling into a tight pool on the plate (it should not be soupy, though). As the Italians say, it should be all’onda, or “with waves.” Unfortunately, many cooks (home and professional) make risottos that are too thick and dense, more like a porridge. But preparing a successful risotto is actually easier to accomplish than you may imagine. It involves no special tricks, just careful observation (and a lot of stirring). Allow your senses—taste, sight, and smell—to tell you when it’s done. The type of rice is critical to the dish. Italian rices, such as Arborio, Carnaroli, or Vialone Nano, are the best choices for the particular composition of starches risotto requires. During cooking, the soft starch on the outside of the grains readily dissolves to form the intrinsic creaminess, while the inside remains al dente (firm “to the tooth”), giving risotto its characteristic bite. Because its flavor will permeate the dish, the liquid used is equally important, and what you use should depend on what else is being added to the dish. Many recipes call for chicken or vegetable stock, but these can prove too overpowering, especially when the dish will be simply seasoned with a handful each of cheese and herbs, as in the recipe below. So instead, the recipe calls for a simple broth that incorporates some of the ingredients used to flavor the dish, here celery, carrot, onion, garlic, and parsley. Likewise, for a shrimp risotto, you could make a broth by combining the shells with lemons and herbs; or you could sauté or roast the bones from meat, fish, or chicken and then simmer them with water. If you prefer deeper flavor, follow this same principle to enrich existing chicken or vegetable stocks for using in risotto. Making a risotto is a lot like making a stew: First, you begin by sautéing an aromatic ingredient. Then the rice is stirred in and toasted to give it a nutty flavor (similar to pilafs) and to loosen some of its starch. After a few minutes, as you stir, the grains eventually become slightly more translucent and they begin making a clicking noise, which tells you it’s time to add the wine. When the wine is stirred in, the rice releases a bit more starch, turning the liquid slightly milky, a sign of the creaminess to come. Once the wine is absorbed, the stock is added, ladleful by ladleful. Near-constant stirring will ensure that the rice cooks evenly and helps release the soft starch on the outside of the grains. The final step of any great risotto is to “mount” it with butter, which gives the risotto richness, and to add in any final seasonings (in this case, grated cheese, freshly ground pepper, and parsley), just before serving. In certain regions of northern Italy, the risotto method is used to cook other grains, such as farro, an ancient grain with a nutty taste. It will produce a dish with a slightly chewier and less creamy texture (see the farro variation with wild mushroom see below).

Vegetable stock is an essential ingredient in many vegetarian soups, but it also provides incomparable flavor to many well-loved vegetable (but not necessarily meat-free) soups such as this one. Minestrone has become so familiar in the American kitchen that it might be easy to forget its Italian origins. But the name—minestre is the word for soup, while the suffix (-one) indicates bigness—hints at its universal appeal as a simple pantry-based soup that is also hearty and substantial. The foundation of flavor, called a soffritto, is a common element in soup-making: a trio of celery, carrots, and onion is sautéed first, then stock and more vegetables are added and slowly simmered to coax out their flavors. Beans are what distinguish minestrone from other vegetable soups; the type varies by region, as does the addition (if any) of pasta or rice (this version has neither). The beans are also what give the soup such heft, making it a good option for a meatless one-pot dish (if you leave out the prosciutto) that can stand as the centerpiece of any casual dinner. The beans need to soak overnight in the refrigerator, so plan accordingly. Then they need to boil for at least a half hour, so use that time to prepare the rest of the ingredients for the soffritto and soup.

This classic pizza is a Margherita with prosciutto draped on the pizza after it comes out of the oven. I added arugula because I love the combination of arugula and prosciutto.

I created this pizza, an upgraded take on “Hawaiian pizza,” typically made with Canadian bacon and canned pineapple, for my son, Ben. When he was growing up, that’s the pizza he always ordered and I cringed at the combination every time. When I opened up my own pizzeria, I wanted to come up with a pizza using the same or similar ingredients that would please both Ben and me. We start with fresh pineapple and slice it paperthin so it caramelizes in the oven, and we use speck in place of Canadian bacon. But what I think really makes this pizza is the addition of jalapeño peppers. Their heat cuts through the sweetness of the pineapple.

Currants and pine nuts are a classic combination in Sicilian cuisine, so even though I may never see carrots such as these on a restaurant menu in Sicily, the combination feels Sicilian to me. You could make many different vegetables, such as broccoli or cauliflower, using this recipe. It is an ideal vegetable preparation to serve at parties because it can be made ahead of time, and everyone loves it. This dish looks especially pretty made with a mix of carrots in different shapes and colors—such as white, yellow, red, or purple—and carrots that are round, like a golf ball.

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.

I was introduced to the concept of a chopped salad in the 1970s at La Scala Boutique, a casual offshoot, now closed, of the Beverly Hills institution La Scala. The salad, which they call the Jean Leon Chopped Salad (it’s now available at the original La Scala restaurant), is made of iceberg lettuce, salami, and mozzarella, all so finely chopped that you almost don’t have to chew it, then topped with ceci, or chickpeas, and a tangy red wine vinaigrette. I was totally addicted to that salad. I’ve been making chopped salads ever since, always with La Scala’s version in mind, but the one we serve at the Pizzeria with aged provolone and Sweet 100 tomatoes is my best yet.

I put this on the Mozzarella Bar menu following a visit to Chez Panisse Café, after which I became obsessed with ricotta toast. At the café, they served a garlic crostini with mounds of fresh, fluffy ricotta piled on top, and I just loved it at first sight. I was so excited about that toast that I had to find a way to work it into my repertoire at the Mozzarella Bar. I had been wanting to find a way to work peperonata—stewed peppers—onto the menu, since mozzarella and roasted peppers are a classic combination, but I just hadn’t known how I wanted to serve it. The ricotta toast, or crostoni, offered the perfect solution. While I drifted a bit from tradition, I feel I did that pairing justice. We serve the crostoni with the peperonata on the side, so guests can assemble the combination one bite at a time, with the toast in one hand and a forkful of peperonata in the other. I like being a two-fisted eater, and I just assume other people do too. Because the peperonata makes such a large amount, this is a great antipasto for a crowd. We gave you directions for serving this dish family style, but you could also spoon the peperonata onto individual serving dishes and give one to each guest.

Pan con tomate is a Catalan creation of grilled bread rubbed with garlic and raw tomato pulp, doused with olive oil, and sprinkled with coarse salt—and one of my favorite things to order at a tapas bar. So how do you serve your favorite Spanish snack at an Italian mozzarella bar? Add mozzarella, of course, or in this case, burrata, and give it an Italian name. We offer this dish only during tomato season. If the tomatoes have no flavor, the tomato bread will also have no flavor. And despite all the other delicious components, which include speck, pickled shallots, and tomato vinaigrette, the bread is, without question, the star. The recipe for the shallots makes more than you will need for this recipe, but they will keep for several weeks. Use the leftovers to make this recipe another time, or on sandwiches or grilled meat.

Bacon-wrapped dates—a more elegant version of rumaki, the 1950s appetizer of chicken liver wrapped in bacon with a water chestnut in the middle—have taken Los Angeles by storm ever since Suzanne Goin started serving them at her restaurant, AOC. I didn’t want to copy hers, but I like them so much that I wanted to make a version for Mozza using figs, which are so abundant in my town in Italy that you almost forget they are a delicacy. Although I’ve never been served anything like these in Italy, I certainly didn’t invent the idea of contrasting the sweetness of figs with something piggy and salty: figs and prosciutto is a classic. At the Osteria, we serve these as an antipasto on a tangle of wilted dandelion greens, but they also make a great bite-size snack for cocktail hour, which is how we have presented them here.

Look for precooked polenta logs in the refrigerated section of your grocery store. If using fresh plum tomatoes, peel them by scoring an X in the bottom with a paring knife and plunging them into boiling water for several seconds; transfer to an ice-water bath, and let cool. Slip off and discard the peels and seeds.

Serve this dish with arugula, tomatoes, blanched green beans, and crumbled Parmesan cheese tossed with extra-virgin olive oil and vinegar.

This verdant puree can be tossed with pasta or drizzled over boiled potatoes just like pesto. It can be stored in an airtight container for up to 5 days in the refrigerator.

To remove individual Brussels sprout leaves, cut the stem out of each sprout and gently ease apart all the leaves.

The dough is easiest to handle when it’s well chilled—keep it in the refrigerator until right before it hits the grill. Depending on the size of your grill, you can make more than one pizza at a time. (Instead of making six pizzas, another option is to make four large ones; cut the dough into quarters before rolling it out.) If you don’t own a grill, you can make the pizzas on a grill pan.