Italian American

The crostata, or tart, is as common in Italy as pie is in America. It is one of the best ways to showcase seasonal fruit as a dessert. Once the crust is made for the filling, add some marzipan and some plump, juicy seasonal blueberries. There is no need to add cornstarch to bind the juice of the berries—they will nestle into the marzipan.

One could call this dish pizza bread, and it is a cross between a focaccia and a pizza. In Sicily, they make a high pizza called sfincione, topped with tomatoes, oregano, and a few anchovies. It is sold in warm squares as street food from a cart. The idea for deep-dish pizza came from the early Sicilian immigrants who settled in Chicago, although the excessive toppings are not something one would find in Sicily.

I guess you could consider this one of many Bundt cakes, but it is different indeed. Though it is shaped and baked in a Bundt pan, the almond slices and the abundant soaking in rum syrup make it Italian American, as it has been made for generations at the Scialo Bros. Bakery in Providence, Rhode Island. Second-generation daughter Carol Gaeta still mans the store, and on the morning when we appeared unannounced, a happy couple, mother and father of the bride, were picking up all the traditional cookies and cakes to be set out at the wedding reception that evening. Italian Americans from Rhode Island, now living in Chicago, they wanted to celebrate this momentous occasion in their family’s Italian American style in their native state. Once the excited mother of the bride had packed all her goodies in the car and left, we had an opportunity to chat with Carol. She took us in the back, where baking sheets full of the butter-rum cake were lined up for soaking. Carol was generous enough to let us taste it, and gave us this delicious recipe to share with you.

Boston cream cakes do not sound Italian, but this recipe was given to me by Italians. At Scialo Brothers Bakery in Rhode Island, we found trays upon trays of little chocolate-covered spheres. I thought they were some version of a cassata (a Sicilian domelike cake stuffed with ricotta cream—see page 318), but instead they were individual Boston cream pies. The French chef Sanzian, who worked at the Parker House Hotel (now the Omni Parker House) in Boston is credited with having invented the Boston cream pie. Italian or not, these were delicious.

The most important element in making pizza or calzones is the dough. In this recipe, I give you instructions for making it all in one day. But usually I like to let my dough rise slowly in the refrigerator overnight: it develops much more complexity and flavor. This dough is good for calzones and focaccia as well.

This sandwich was my grandfather’s favorite sandwich for merenda, the midmorning snack. My grandmother would use the prosciutto scraps with bits and pieces of fat, and when there was no prosciutto, she would use pancetta.

This great and easy sandwich could serve you well for breakfast, lunch, or a picnic. Basically, it is scrambled eggs with onions and asparagus. I prefer thin asparagus for this dish, since I recall making it with wild asparagus that I would go and forage every spring with my grandmother. Here in the States, asparagus is farmed abundantly. Wild asparagus is more bitter than the farmed variety, but I love any fresh asparagus. I sometimes use scallions instead of onions, including two-thirds of the green part of the scallion stalks as well.

Everybody can relate to a sausage-and-pepper submarine sandwich being Italian American, since it is served at every street fair in the Northeast. The use of peppers with sausages is not as prevalent in Italy as it is in the Italian American community here, but this is a delicious dish. Imagine turning it into breakfast, especially on a morning when you have a few extra mouths to feed. The recipe is easy to prepare, because the sausage is taken out of its casings and crumbled into the pan, and everything else is added to it. You just scramble it all together; do not worry about making a perfectly round frittata here.

I picked up this simple, delicious, and very Italian cake on a visit to Angelo Brocato’s ice cream and confectionery in New Orleans. I am sure you will want to make this dessert over and over again. If you are going to freeze it, keep the taste fresh by wrapping it tightly in plastic.

Sausage and broccoli rabe are a marriage destined to last. Often served with pasta, most commonly orecchiette, this recipe is for quick, easy, hearty sandwiches with some greens in them.

This is a unique rendition (and spelling) of veal parmigiana that I had in Rigazzi’s, one of the oldest restaurants on The Hill in St. Louis. It exemplifies the frugality and the ingenuity of those early immigrants. Instead of expensive veal cutlets, they ground lesser, tougher cuts of veal, then shaped them and treated them like a veal cutlet; the result was delicious and tender! At Rigazzi’s, it was the special of the day when we visited.

Just down Smallman Street from our Lidia’s restaurant, I have serious sandwich competition in Primanti’s, a Pittsburgh institution. I am charmed by their incredibly oversized warm capicola sandwich stuffed with French fries and coleslaw. I am not sure where in the U.S.A. this tradition of stuffing a sandwich with French fries became Italian, but the sandwich was so tall that I could not open my mouth wide enough to get my first bite. Primanti’s started as a sandwich pushcart, manned by Joe Primanti, in the Strip in the 1930s, selling sandwiches to truck drivers. One night, a trucker wanted to check if his load of frozen potatoes were good, so Joe Primanti cooked them up. Customers began asking for them, and to expedite the service they were added to the sandwich.

Lemon ice is simple and delicious and very Italian. This recipe was given to me by Maria at Carm’s in Chicago. It was not too sweet, with a nice tartness, and a bit slushy when she served it to me; I loved it.

The gizmo, a glorified sloppy joe or Italian grinder, is Italian America on a sub roll. This is a great sandwich to make for a picnic or a party. Just make a big pot of the filling and keep piling it on the grilled bread. The filling can be reheated and even frozen—just be sure that it is wrapped tightly, so it won’t get freezer flavor. The one I tasted was made with sausage and beef, but just crumpled sausages would be fine; even chopped turkey fits the bill.

Prickly pears—or fichi d’India, as they are called in Italy—grow wild and abundant in Sicily and are eaten simply as a fruit, as a salad, or churned into a dessert, as in this recipe for granita. In the Southwestern United States, the prickly pear grows abundant and wild, and when I visited the Salinas Valley in California, I was delighted to see acres upon acres of this cactus plant growing for commercial harvesting. The Mexican culture uses it in their cuisine, but I was especially happy to see a demand for it here in the States. When you find it nice and ripe in your market, buy it and make this simple and delicious granita with it.

Spumoni is a delicious dessert made from three flavors of ice cream stuffed into a cup, and cut in four when frozen. The ice-cream colors reflect the colors of the Italian flag—red, white, and green—and spumoni has long been a big item on the menus of Italian American restaurants. Spumoni has its origins in a Neapolitan dessert, and supposedly came to America in 1905 with Salvatore Lezza. Lezza’s spumoni can still be had on Chicago’s Upper West Side. I filled many a cup with my own homemade ice cream in my early restaurant days, in the seventies, but spumoni is still delicious when made with good store-bought ice cream as well. Here rum gives the spumoni an extra layer of flavor, but the juice of the sour cherries is a great alternative.

Chicago is the birthplace of this sandwich, and Al’s “#1 Italian Beef Sandwich” claims to be the best. The last time I was there, there was a line, and the outside tables were full of people munching on the beef sandwich. However, I think the recipe below will give you a sandwich much closer to what the Italian American immigrants were and still are making for their families. The Italian beef sandwich seems to have its roots in Italian weddings and celebrations as a frugal way to offer meat. The boneless beef rump, an otherwise tough piece of beef, when marinated, roasted, and cut into thin slices, and then topped with lots of Italian-style vegetables, went a long way served as a sandwich. This recipe makes enough for a crowd, or you could halve the recipe and feed a smaller group. That will be a problem if you just want a sandwich for yourself, but I think the only true way to get this sandwich to be as good as it can be is to make it from a whole rump roast. You can always enjoy the leftovers later.

I guess you could call this silky chocolate milk, or luscious liquid chocolate pudding. I remember it as a very special treat when I was a child. It is simple and delicious, and, served with some Italian cookies, it becomes dessert.

There are many versions of the muffuletta sandwich around New Orleans, but it seems that Central Grocery in the French Quarter is the place to go. The store is charming enough, but at the back counter, seated on a stool with a muffuletta sandwich in front of you, is where you want to be. We sat down across from a man who told us he’d had his first muffuletta sandwich here fifty years ago and came back regularly for more. Next to him were a couple who have been coming to Central Grocery to enjoy the muffuletta sandwich for more than forty years. We ordered one without any hesitation. The large hamburger bun–like bread was soaked significantly with the olive-oil dressing of the olive salad; then layers and layers of the salad and the cold cuts were added. The sandwich was cut in four and wrapped in parchment paper. It was ten in the morning, one would say time for breakfast, but the two of us savored the muffuletta sandwich as did all the other customers.