Pecorino

Pesto is at its best when used immediately after it is made. However, it can be refrigerated for up to a few weeks if it’s spooned into a container, topped with olive oil, and sealed tight. If you find yourself with an abundance of basil in summer, make some pesto and store it in small portions in the freezer, where it will last for up to a few months. Frozen pesto gives great freshness of taste to hearty winter soups and pasta sauces. Long pasta shapes, like fresh tagliatelle or dried spaghetti or linguine, pair well with pesto. When dressing pasta with pesto, remember these important points: Don’t actually cook the pesto—you’ll lose its fresh quality—but warm it together with the cooked pasta for a minute over low heat. There should be just enough pesto to coat the pasta lightly. If necessary, spoon in a little of the pasta-cooking water to help the pasta and pesto glide into a bowl.

This version of a classic Italian pasta dish is prepared with prosciutto, as was often done in Italian-American restaurants. For a more traditional version, substitute 6 ounces of guanciale (cured pork-cheek bacon) or regular bacon cut into 1/4-inch strips for the prosciutto. Cook the guanciale or bacon in the skillet with the olive oil before adding the onion. Cook until lightly browned but still soft, about 4 minutes for the guanciale or 2 minutes for the bacon. Then add the onion and continue with the recipe as below.

Some people dislike anchovies, but it would be a shame to leave them out of this dish. They add such wonderful flavor and, most likely, people won’t even know they are there. They dissolve during the cooking and add complexity to the other assertive flavors in this dish. I like to crush canned tomatoes with my hands, so I can feel when they are the right size and how tender or firm they are. That helps me to judge the cooking time better. If you prefer, you can mash them with a wire whisk or use a food processor. If you choose to process them, use just a few quick bursts—otherwise you’ll chop them too fine and incorporate a lot of air into the tomatoes, and they will turn pink. You can add basil to this sauce if you like, or stick to the traditional Italian-American accent of fresh parsley. I choose Pecorino Romano cheese for this dish. It is made from sheep’s milk and is much sharper than Parmigiano-Reggiano, which is made from cow’s milk. But if you prefer, you may use Parmigiano-Reggiano.

When they’re made with 99 percent lean ground turkey breast, these burgers are a figure-friendly way to enjoy a sausage sandwich.

This is my make-at-home version of one of my favorite brunch items at Union Square Cafe in New York City. Chef Michael Romano makes a mean Italian-style hoagie with sliced steak, tomato sauce, and capers—yum-o! When I’m up at my cabin, out in the sticks, I gotta make a knockoff for myself. (Michael, aka Mikey here, isn’t really from Philly. Rather I am referring to his riff on Philly’s famous cheese-steak sammies.)

This Roman dish is as old as the city’s seven hills. It doesn’t get any easier, really. As a side, I fry up some garlic in oil and toss it with chopped defrosted spinach and some rinsed canned white beans.

I make this dinner every Christmas. I have included it in other books, but I cannot finish any year without it. I have made some small improvements in the recipe over the years, so it’s faster and easier to make than ever. You can eat it all year long as do I. For Italians, after all those fishes on Christmas Eve, this dish, with four different meats in it, is especially nice on Christmas night. This is the greatest gift I can give to myself and those I love: a big bowl of pasta with the works. Have a great year! Serve with tomato, basil, and mozzarella salad (the colors of the season and the Italian flag).

Cacio pepe literally translates as “cheese and pepper.” It is a classic Italian pasta dish that centers on the flavors of grated cheese and freshly ground black pepper. The simplest versions we have seen are made with abundant cheese and pepper, melted and moistened only with the cooking water. More indulgent recipes add olive oil or butter as we do below. Most recipes call for Pecorino Romano, a hard sheep’s-milk cheese, although Parmigiano Romano also crops up here and there. In our version the roasted pasta adds a deeper, more savory flavor to the finished dish. It is simple to make but it’s important to get the balance right so that your pasta is silky and flavorful. It’s the perfect meal for when the pantry is almost bare but the body needs something delicious to satisfy it.

This is a great sauce, almost a universal pasta dressing, but particularly suitable for malloreddus. Because it is so good and useful, I make it in large batches and pack it in small portions for freezing. There are times when I want to make some pasta for two (or sometimes just for me), and there’s nothing better than having a small container of tomato-sausage sauce on hand to dress it.

Our friend Franco Azzara made this memorable pasta dish for us during a recent visit to his home in the Gallura region of Sardinia. I marveled at how quickly he put it together, and at the complex flavor of the raw sauce—just fresh tomatoes, basil and mint, and other savory seasonings, whipped up in a food processor, no cooking necessary. I thank him for sharing this Azzara family recipe, one that I know you will enjoy both for its ease and convenience and for its brilliant flavors.

This tasty and easy casserole is a wonderful way to enjoy homemade fregola and makes a great accompaniment to braised chicken or veal. If I have not convinced you to make your own, use packaged dried fregola, available at specialty stores or online. Commercial fregola is usually a bit larger than the homemade, so follow the package guidelines for cooking the pasta al dente.

Gallura is the traditional name for the northeastern corner of Sardinia, across from Corsica, and the region’s distinctive dialect and delicious dishes are termed Gallurese. Here is a most unusual rendition of zuppa Gallurese. Surprisingly, it comes in the form of a casserole, with layers of bread, Savoy cabbage, provolone, and pecorino, drenched in chicken stock and baked. The end result is an amazing dish that has the comforting character of a soup and the cheesy lusciousness of a lasagna or pasticciata. I know you will find it delightful.

Juicy pork chops, smothered with slowly cooked onions and topped with melted cheese, are certain to make mouths water. You can prepare these in advance—browning the chops and cooking the onions—then complete the skillet cooking and baking as your guests are seated. Thick chops from the pork loin are my favorite, and the ones used in the recipe. Leaner rib chops will work as well but should be cooked a few minutes less.

Pane frattau is a traditional dish of Sardinian shepherds, made from pane carasau, the thin, long-keeping flatbreads that were a staple food during the shepherds’ extended sojourns in mountain pastures. Some clever shepherd discovered long ago, I imagine, that he could turn the dry bread into a fast, warm meal by soaking and layering it with hot tomato sauce and cheese, lasagna-style. Now considered a classic of Sardinian cooking, pane frattau is a dish that I love to make at home. No baking is required, and everything can be heated on the stovetop (quicker than a shepherd’s campfire, I am sure) and quickly assembled. With a perfectly poached or fried egg as the crowning touch, it makes a beautiful brunch or supper dish, belying its peasant origins. Regard this recipe as a guideline. Though the listed ingredient amounts serve four, you can multiply them to serve a crowd or divide them to make pane frattau for two—or just for yourself. I recommend my Tomato Sauce (page 385), but any basic tomato sauce of your choice would be fine, too. And though I prefer poached eggs to top the pane frattau, a fried egg, sunny side up, would be just as authentic and satisfying. Either way, just be sure to cook the eggs at the last minute and serve the dish right away. I also suggest that you try layering pane frattau as is rather than water-soaked pane carasau. It is great that way, too!

Like many traditional Lucani dishes, this one is fashioned from the handful of ingredients one would find even in the most humble peasant pantry: dried peppers, yesterday’s bread, a chunk of hard cheese, olive oil, and garlic. Minimal yet delicious. The fire in fiery maccheroni, of course, comes from dried diavolicchio, the hot chili peppers so beloved in Basilicata and other southern regions. Here, whole dried peperoncino pods are soaked until soft, then puréed into a pesto to dress the pasta. Toasted bread crumbs play an important role in this dish, too, when they’re tossed in just before serving. They pick up the paste and garlicky olive oil, cling to the strands of pasta (preferably bucatini or perciatelli), and give crunchy, fiery sparks of flavor to every enjoyable bite.

This is one of those bountiful braises that you make when you want to delight a big table of family or friends, offering them an assortment of tender meats and pasta dressed with the braising sauce. Like other slowly cooked braises, this gives you two courses from one saucepan. Serve pasta dressed with the meaty-tasting tomato sauce as a first course—there’s enough to dress 2 pounds of rigatoni. And then serve the pork, veal, and sausage as a second course. Of course, you don’t have to serve it all for the same meal. Use half the sauce to dress a pound of pasta, freeze the rest, and you have a future meal all ready to go. And after serving the ragù, take any leftover bits and pieces of meat, shred and chop them up, clean the meat from the veal-chop bone, and blend all of it in with any leftover sauce. I bet you’ll have enough sauce with meaty morsels for a lasagna or other baked pasta—yet another meal from that one big braising pan.

These crispy, savory balls, simmering in tomato sauce, are delicious and surprising: though they have all the texture and flavor that a meatball-lover would ask for, there’s not a bit of meat in them—just eggs, grated cheese, and bread crumbs plus garlic and basil. They are certainly a testament to the ingenuity of Abruzzese cooks, who have fashioned the simplest staples of a rustic kitchen into a treat for all occasions. Serve the polpettine as a special snack or party hors d’oeuvre—when they’re freshly fried and crispy, you won’t even need any sauce. And with the sauce, they make a delightful primo or vegetarian main course. A good-quality pecorino for grating is essential here and will give you the most authentic flavor. If you’ve found one you like, use it exclusively in the polpettine and for serving. If your pecorino is sharp and/or salty, substitute Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano for half the cheese in the recipe.

Crêpes, or scrippelle, are a big part of the menu in Le Marche, as a garnish in soups, filled with grated cheese, or used like pasta, as they are in this delicious casserole. In fact, if you are reluctant to make your own fresh pasta, this might be a first step. The scrippelle are easy to make and can be fried in advance, then sliced into ribbons for the recipe.