Chickpea

Sherry, garlic, and chickpeas, a decidedly Andalusian combination of flavors, is served by itself or as a side dish with almost any cut of meat, fish, or poultry. But I like it best with cod: the subtlety and tenderness of the fish are offset wonderfully by the big, almost meaty flavors of the scented chickpeas yet are not overwhelmed by them. If you have any advance inkling at all that you’re going to be tackling this recipe, try to cook dried chickpeas for it in advance (page 431). The best sherry to use here is Amontillado, which is slightly but not overpoweringly sweet; a ten-dollar bottle of Amontillado will suffice, and since you’re only going to use about a quarter of the bottle, there will be plenty left to chill and drink. Second choices would be slightly sweeter Oloroso or drier Fino.

This isn’t unlike French Chickpea Salad (preceding recipe), but it has an entirely different feel; for best flavor, use young, fresh ginger if possible. Canned chickpeas work well for this dish, but, as always, freshly cooked ones are preferable. Make this salad up to two hours in advance, but no more.

The countryside chef who showed me this dish told me that soaking and cooking chickpeas in rainwater makes them taste better. (Unless you live in a pristine environment, it’s probably not a good idea; or maybe that’s exactly the point.) Anyway, this classic salad is great warm, at room temperature, or cold. Of course the chickpeas can be cooked a day or more in advance, allowing you to make this at the last minute. The chickpeas will cook somewhat faster if you soak them overnight or boil them for a minute and then let soak for a couple of hours; but it isn’t necessary.

Raita is salad, relish, dip, and side dish in one. Yogurt-based, it usually includes something sharp to balance the sour blandness: onion, spices, mustard, even chiles. (It’s most closely associated with India, but similar mixtures are made in the Middle East.) The recipe here is the basic foundation of many raitas and is usually not eaten as is but added to according to preference. There are infinite variations, of which the ones that follow are among the most popular. All balance spicy curries well but are also good eaten on their own or as a dip for flatbreads, like those on pages 559–565.

In the holy month of Ramadan, Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset and partake of a hearty meal after sunset. This often includes harira, a filling, flavorful, and easily varied soup. If your cilantro comes with roots, wash them well, tie them in a bundle, and add them to the stew for extra flavor; remove before serving.

A hearty, delicious vegetable stew, whose ingredients can be varied however you like. Chickpeas and squash—both summer (zucchini) and winter (pumpkin or butternut)—are the most commonly included vegetables.

Brilliant orange pumpkinlike squash fill the vegetable stands of Morocco and most other Mediterranean countries every fall, and they show up in stews, couscous, pasta, and soups like this.You may find the same squash in the States, but butternut, acorn, or sugar pumpkin—pumpkin grown for flavor, not size—are perfect substitutes and easy enough to find. (Canned pumpkin is an acceptable if not ideal alternative; drain it well.) Make this up to a day in advance, reserving the cream and cilantro to add just before serving.

A substantial soup (if you use chicken stock instead of water, it will be even more so) and a perfect winter lunch or a solid dinner when teamed with a light grilled dish, like Grilled Swordfish Rémoulade (page 256) or “Grilled” Mackerel with Garlic and Rosemary (page 266). Remember, though, that chickpeas can take a long time to cook, so if you have any inkling you’re going to make this soup, cook the chickpeas in advance. (Canned chickpeas are also good, or you can use lentils for speed; see the variation.) This soup can be refrigerated for a few days and reheated before serving, but it’s best to add the pasta at the last minute.

A soupy appetizer (you can make it a little drier if you like) and a good one, a terrific example of making something delicious out of a few scraps. You must cook dried chickpeas yourself for this one; canned chickpeas will not cut it. Likewise, you must make homemade bread crumbs. Do these two things and you will love this dish

Most people seem to adore chickpeas, and one of their strongest attributes is that, unlike other dried legumes, they produce delicious cooking liquid. So if you lack stock for this dish, don’t worry about it. But—and this is true for the several chickpea recipes that follow as well as this one—the cooking time for chickpeas is unpredictable. Cook the beans the day before you plan to make the soup if at all possible, or at least soak them for several hours to reduce the cooking time (or, in a pinch, use canned chickpeas). Once they’re done, the cooking time is just a few minutes. If you are so inclined, this soup remains equally authentic and becomes more substantial if you add 1/2 to 1 pound browned sausage chunks. You can brown the sausage right before the onions, in the same skillet.

These fritters, which you’ll also find in Texas and Florida, have their origins in the Caribbean—and, if you want to trace them further back, India; see the variation.

Falafel is the best known of bean fritters, and—because it’s usually made from chickpeas and/or fava beans—the best tasting. Canned chickpeas are too soft for falafel, but the recipe is pretty easy anyway; the dried beans are soaked, not cooked, and the frying is straightforward. The addition of an egg prevents the batter from falling apart, which is a common problem. It may not be strictly traditional, but it works. The little fritters are best in a huge pita, with a pile of raw vegetables, but they’re also nice served as a starter, with some greens and a little Tahini Sauce.

This delicious snack from Trinidad and Guyana is the perfect accompaniment to any cold cocktail, and if you think of it while you’re cooking chickpeas for another recipe, it’s incredibly easy. If you’re curious about Old World origins of New World foods, you’ll be interested to know that, in India, one of the many words for chickpeas is chana.

When you think you have nothing to eat or serve, look in your cupboard. Providing that you have shopped for these Italian ingredients (most of them in a can or jar), you can make this delicious and nutritious salad in no time. I like it best at room temperature. It is a great appetizer, but it becomes a meal when topped with some grilled chicken or a can of tuna.

Antichi Sapori, a family-run restaurant in Montegrosso, a few kilometers south of Andria, is where I had some of the best local products and traditional dishes. Pietro Zito, the chef and owner, is tied to the land and works with local seasonal products. One of several memorable dishes I enjoyed there was ceci e tria, this dense soup of chickpeas with the textural interplay of cooked and fried pasta. It’s a flavorful simple dish, very rustic and yet mellow.

This skillet pasta is the epitome of good everyday Italian cooking. It is fast—everything, including the dried gramigna pasta, cooks in less than 10 minutes. The ingredients are right out of the pantry and fridge. And when you put them all together—the textures and tastes are in perfect balance. When dishes are so simple, every ingredient is very important. Here the feel and texture of curly gramigna pasta plays an important role, so do try to find it (see Sources, page 340). Other pastas, such as elbows, shells, or small pennette, will be delicious, but gramigna is used in Maremma, and I love it.

This hearty vegetarian soup gets superb flavor and texture from the long-cooking chickpeas and dried and fresh mushrooms. But the secret to the great taste is the paste (pestata) of aromatic vegetables and herbs, ground in the food processor. Before adding it to the soup however, you give the pestata even more flavor by browning it in a skillet—which makes it, in culinary Italian, a soffritto. As you will see in the coming pages, this pestata/soffritto step is used in many Maremma recipes, in sauces and stews as well as soups. In the country, such a soup is often served with grilled bread, making a whole meal. Adding rice or small pasta to the soup pot during the final 10 minutes of cooking is another way to enhance it. Or drop some good Italian sausages into soup for the last 20 minutes of cooking. Slice them right into the soup, or serve the sausages separately as a second course.

This is a hearty soup that my grandmother made—though never the same way twice. Sometimes she would add some pasta near the end of cooking, in the style of pasta e fagioli, or add another kind of bean, since legumes were so important. In season she would toss in a cup or two of fresh corn kernels. This is really a one-pot meal, in two courses. First you have the velvety, rich soup, then sliced sausage and ribs as a second course. With a piece of country bread and a small salad, who could ask for more?