Bacon

In America, commonplace coleslaw is made from green cabbage, but I do see shreds of red cabbage tossed into a mixed salad every now and then. When I was a child in northern Italy, we ate a lot of the cabbage family, from regular cabbage to Savoy cabbage to black kale. We ate red cabbage braised next to a roast, but we also made a lot of differently dressed salads with it. The secret—and the work—was in slicing the cabbage thin. But given today’s food processors and all their different attachments, and the reasonable prices of mandoline slicers, this salad is a cinch to make. You can even slice the cabbage a few hours in advance; just remember to toss it with some vinegar as soon as you slice it to keep its color bright.

As a child, I had salads in the winter that Nonna Rosa would dress with the flavorful fat rendered from pancetta or prosciutto scraps and a splash of homemade vinegar. The greens were always the tougher winter kinds, like chicory or escarole, and sometimes she even added slices of boiled potatoes, still warm. So, when I had my first spinach salad in America dressed with warm bacon pieces, I assumed my grandma’s salad made with spinach was the American/Italian way.

Known as pasta fazool in the Italian American community, this is the cornerstone of Italian soup-making. This recipe traveled easily from Italy along with the early immigrants. Beans and the other ingredients were easy to find, and the technique they used was just like back home. An inexpensive, nutritious soup, it cooked by itself while the woman of the house did her chores. Some options to vary this soup would be to purée part or all of the beans after they have been cooked, and before you add the pasta. This is the version kids love, and it is also used in restaurants for a seemingly elegant touch, although I like to bite into my beans. I also substitute rice or barley for the pasta, a common practice in the north of Italy, where rice is abundant.

Every region of Italy has its version of minestrone. The Italian American version seems always to have diced carrots, celery, potatoes, beans, and cabbage, rendering it distinct, with a touch of sour aftertaste. Variations include vegetables that were readily available in the small gardens Italian immigrants kept in their backyards or window boxes. Italian Americans love their minestrone so much that in 1949, Progresso Quality Foods began selling minestrone, as well as pasta e fagioli, in cans as a convenience food. At first the soup was available only in Italian American markets, but soon enough it hit mainstream America.

I first tasted this dish in an Italian American restaurant in the 1960s, and thereafter served it in my restaurants into the 1980s. In Italy, bacon and clams are not cooked together much, but I love this dish. It is an extraordinary combination of flavors—between the brininess of the clams, the sweetness of the roasted peppers, and the crispy pancetta or bacon taste that everybody loves. The dish has roots on the shore of Rhode Island, where it was created at the Little Casino hotel in Narragansett, early in the twentieth century.

This is a great soup to make when you find yourself with leftover baked beans. If you don’t have leftovers, Bush’s canned baked beans work wonderfully.

In the Carolina Sea Islands, a “pie” does not necessarily have a crust. This shrimp casserole is a superb luncheon dish and is one of these pies.

Vidalia onions are Georgia’s most famous taste. This sweet onion is grown in southeast Georgia, just a few miles west of Savannah. They can be stored in a cool dry place to use throughout the year.