Leek

Pork and beans never had it so good. This Spanish riff on French cassoulet pairs large, meaty beans with fresh sausages under a breadcrumb crust. Save time by quick-soaking the beans.

Walnut pesto is very popular in Piedmont, where I first tasted this dish. It’s really great on its own, simply tossed with a long-cut pasta, but I think the peppers give it a bit more body and also make the dish more beautiful on the plate.

You can make this kind of soup anytime, using any kind of pasta you like. Small shapes and short noodles are the obvious choices, but my parents often added spaghetti or fettuccine, broken into small pieces so we could still eat it with a spoon. The fettuccine looks a little more elegant, but if all you have on hand is spaghetti, that’s fine; the soup will have a more rustic, homey look.

French green lentils, sometimes called lentilles du Puy, hold their shape well once cooked, making them particularly suited to salads and pasta dishes. Like other legumes, lentils are low in fat and are exceptional sources of folate, iron, and protein, plus other vitamins and minerals. Here, the lentils are combined with whole-wheat pasta shapes called chiocciole (snails), but you can substitute penne or any other short tubular shapes. If you like, grate or shave parmesan over the pasta just before serving.

In this classic French first course, the vegetables are first poached, then marinated in vinaigrette. For deeper flavor, the vegetables can be braised in stock instead of poached. The leeks are especially delicious when garnished with sieved egg yolk (called “mimosa” for its resemblance to the golden flower and most often used with asparagus). The leeks can also be combined with other components to create an elegant composed salad, such as the one on page 312.

Although it may seem like a complicated restaurant dish, bouillabaisse has simple origins in the French seaport city of Marseille, where there is an abundance of freshly caught seafood (and an aversion to waste). Julia Child defined it as a “fisherman’s soup, made from the day’s catch,” or from its leftovers. What it actually consists of depends on whom you ask. A pot will typically have at least four types of fish (some insist on no fewer than seven) and a roster of regional ingredients, notably fennel, garlic, saffron, tomatoes, orange zest, and olive oil. Purists would insist on using fish only from the local (Marseille) waters and absolutely no shellfish, while others take a more liberal approach, improvising here and there but basically sticking to the same formula. Most everyone agrees on the required accompaniments: rouille and croutons made from a crusty baguette. The process for making the stock, which is similar to a classic fish fumet (page 55) but with Mediterranean flavors, takes little time; since it gives the finished dish its rich flavor, don’t skimp on this step. Rouille is a variation of mayonnaise (page 95), with spices, garlic, and fish stock for added flavors as well as bread for a rustic texture. It has a tawny color from the addition of saffron (hence its name, which means “rust” in French).

This recipe employs many classic techniques of braising. To finish the sauce, the liquid is first reduced (a common thickening method) and then a secondary thickener called a beurre manié, a mixture of flour and butter, is added. Beurre manié can be added to most any sauce that seems to need a bit more body. And since the flavor of pork pairs well with apples, hard cider is used to braise the meat. For variation, the standard French mirepoix of onion, carrot, and celery is replaced with parsnip, celery root, and leek. If you don’t have a pot with a tight-fitting lid, cover your pot with aluminum foil lined with parchment paper and then the lid (you can even use the lid from another, similar-size pot or pan). Check 30 minutes after placing the pot in the oven to make sure that the liquid is gently simmering; if not, raise the temperature by 25 degrees, return the liquid to a boil on top of stove, and return the pot to the oven to finish cooking. (If vigorously boiling, decrease temperature by 25 degrees.)

Perhaps the best known cold pureed soup, vichyssoise is a simple puree of potato and leeks that is traditionally enriched with cream; adding a bit of buttermilk along with the cream gives this version a pleasant tangy flavor. Here, leeks serve as both an aromatic, replacing the onion, as well as one of the base vegetables. Garlic is typically not used. The amount of stock or water called for is also reduced, since both cream and buttermilk are added. If making the soup for company, buy an extra leek to prepare the Leek Frisée (page 75) for the garnish.

The onion can be substituted with one leek or two large shallots (this is true for the variations, too) and the spinach with other leafy greens, such as chard, kale, watercress, or sorrel. For a soup with brighter color, the leafy greens are added in the last five minutes of cooking, just so they are given a chance to wilt.

Fumet is a white stock made from fish bones and aromatic vegetables, which are first “sweated” (cooked until soft but not taking on any color), then simmered in water. That initial step is a crucial building block, eliciting a touch of sweetness from the leek and developing the flavors for the next step, though it will produce a stock with less clarity than when the aromatics are simply brought to a boil with the rest. (To achieve that result, follow recipe for Basic Chicken Stock on page 41, bringing the fish bones and heads to a boil, then adding vegetables, bay leaf, and peppercorns and simmering 30 minutes before straining.) With its concentrated flavor, fumet is ideal for making fish soups and stews, or for steaming shellfish, such as the Clams in Herbed Broth on page 219. Like other stocks, fumet can be altered for different effects. Increase the ratio of bones to water and you will have a stock with more pronounced fish flavor. For a Mediterranean-style stock, chopped garlic and fennel (and its fronds) can be sweated with the other aromatics, then crushed tomatoes, crumbled saffron, and a few parsley stems added and simmered in the pot along with everything else.

Years ago I discovered a little place in San Francisco that made the most delicious green onion focaccia that I loved and never forgot. When the Pizzeria was conceived, I knew I wanted to offer one with green onions in memory of that one. In trying to invent my green onion pizza, I remembered my days at Spago, where they made a goat cheese and red pepper pizza that was really popular. Goat cheese and bacon is a great combination, as is goat cheese and browned garlic. And then there were those green onions . . . That mishmash of inspirations is how this pizza came to be. The garlic is the same that we use in the Olives al Forno (page 37). While you’re at it, you might want to make enough for both, since the olives would be a great accompaniment to a pizza party.

I order octopus every time I go to Babbo and have done so since long before I partnered with Mario and Joe, so when Mozza came about I knew I wanted to include an octopus dish on the Osteria menu. Most people’s experience of octopus is eating it raw at sushi bars, and we all know how chewy it can be, but, like Mario’s version at Babbo that I love so much, ours is tender and not at all rubbery. That tenderness doesn’t come without considerable effort, but as much effort as it is, the finished dish is certainly worth it. It’s our most popular non-mozzarella antipasto. In Italy people do all kinds of things to tenderize fresh octopus. They pound it with a meat pounder, they hit it with hammers, they throw it against rocks. Matt’s solution is to start with frozen octopus; freezing helps break down the octopus’s flesh the same way that pounding it does. He then sears the octopus, poaches it in olive oil, marinates it, and, lastly, chars it in a wood-fired grill. The wine cork in the recipe is something we do on Mario’s orders. He claims that in Italy they say the wine cork tenderizes the octopus. I think it must be an old wives’ tale, but it doesn’t hurt to throw it in there, so we do. Note: This recipe requires a huge sacrifice of oil. You can keep the oil and reuse it once to make the octopus again within a week.

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.

I love leeks, and I especially love the traditional French preparation of leeks vinaigrette—boiled or steamed leeks served cold and dressed with a sharp vinaigrette. This is my Mozzarella Bar take on that classic. All of the Mozzarella Bar dishes have some kind of crunchy bread as a contrast to the soft cheese. Some are served on crostini, but those that aren’t are topped with some kind of crouton or, in this case, bread crumbs, which really finish this dish.

We should call these “Lyn’s Leeks” because Lyn, who tested many of the recipes in this book, had to make them several times before getting the recipe right. In each instance the leeks she made were delicious, but she pushed on until she achieved the caramel color and glazed look of those we serve in the restaurant.

Court bouillon, the vegetable and herb broth traditionally used for poaching fish, imparts subtle flavor to the fish as it cooks. The bouillon can be made 2 or 3 days ahead. If preparing the fish the same day, make the bouillon right in the poacher.

Using both Gruyère and fontina gives this savory dish complex flavor—and they melt beautifully. If you use only Gruyère, just double the amount. You can assemble most of this dish up to 1 day ahead and refrigerate, covered; then add the batter, and bake.

This traditional Irish potato dish can be assembled up to 2 hours ahead and then browned just before serving.