Pine Nut

These stuffed flatbreads are shaped much like meat-filled galettes. Lamb is the meat of choice in many Mediterranean cuisines, and here it is combined with other key ingredients of the region—eggplant and pomegranate—along with the warm aromatics often used in Turkish cuisine.

This is one of my favorite savory calzones because the filling is so delicious. The sausage and onions become smoky because they are first cooked in the wood-fired oven. Spinach is a natural with these two ingredients. The creamy, slightly nutty fontina cheese is a great companion to the toasted pine nuts. This combination would be wonderful on a pizza as well.

Traditionally, the gatekeep of an apartment building in Napoli is a widow or a widower of a certain age, one of whose missions, as spiritual guardian of the palazzo, is to slot the mail—after fastidious palpating of its contents, lifting it to the light of the sun, trawling it for heretical intelligence, and generally shadowing the recipient’s movements by it, to diligently rouse, invent, and unbosom internal gossip. The good gatekeep only breaks from these industries to stir at or baste some one of his legendary little potions, all of which signal to the tenants as they cross the threshold what will be the old watchdog’s supper.

The town of Scanno is bedded quaintly on a valley floor near the tortuous Gole del Sagittario—a mountain road called the “Throat of Sagittarius,” on the fringes of the Parco Nazionale degli Abruzzi, a national park and nature reserve. Bespeaking eloquently its Late Renaissance and Baroque past, its little streets and alleyways are warmed by artisans working in gold and silver and lacemakers with their small wooden hoops. The women—many of them, rather than only an archaic few—toddle through the enchanted tableau of the old village on Sundays garbed in long black skirts that rustle their arrival, their hair swept up in gorgeous and ornate headdresses of lace and velvet, their arms comforted in black woolen capes. Theirs is no quaint, historic burlesque. They are wearing the clothes that please them, that are faithful to their images of themselves, that honor their heritage. They are at their ease. A poetically costumed nonna (grandmother) admonishes her young grandson—in jeans and a T-shirt, his hair falling in soft brown curls below his shoulders—to be neither late nor in a hurry for Sunday dinner before she disappears through the small, humble portal of her home. Scanno, if one watches her carefully, will give view to a life inviolate. And these are her traditional biscuits, all chewy and full of spiced Renaissance perfumes and savors, lovely with good red wine, especially when it’s warmed and spiced with pepper and cloves, or, in summer, a little goblet of sweet, iced moscato.

Baccalà is of ancient Roman favor. The methodology of its preservation was one cultivated during their campaigns in the north, where they learned to embalm a catch of the great, fat cod under unpounded crystals of sea salt, reviving it for meals both festive and humble. Stoccafisso differs from baccalà in its fundamental cure, as it, having no encounter with salt, is simply hung out to dry in the winds moaning up from the North Sea. In either case, once plumped in its renaissance bath of cold water, the cod flesh is tender and, when cooked gently, its flesh takes on an almost creamy texture. The yield of a correctly reconstituted and properly cooked fish, well conserved in either way, is quite the same. This is an unexpectedly delicate dish, the raisins foiling any saltiness that might linger in the fish, while the Cognac softens the acidity of the tomatoes.

This pasta might sound unsubstantial, but I promise you won’t leave the table wishing you’d made a roast instead. The caramelized cauliflower, rich cavolo nero, and chewy pasta, sautéed with rosemary, chile, garlic, anchovy, and onion, meld together into a filling, savory whole. Although sautéing the pasta isn’t traditional, I love the integration of flavors and the slightly crisped noodles.

If you leaned against your sink, closed your eyes, and focused on conjuring up the quintessential organic farmer, James Birch would appear in your kitchen. He looks like a cross between a grizzly bear and an overgrown Little Prince. And he is, in fact, the king of broccoli. I’d guess that most people don’t walk into Lucques with a hankering for broccoli, but this appetizer might just change that. Tossed with a garlicky anchovy butter, topped with pine nut breadcrumbs, and served with slices of creamy burrata cheese, this broccoli is how addictions get started. Burrata literally translates as “bag.” Cream is beaten into mozzarella, creating a skin of cheese that’s filled with creamy curd. Burrata’s silky, soft texture and rich flavor make it feel like a mozzarella that died and went to heaven. We get our burrata from Caseificio Gioia, which, although it sounds like it must be located in a quaint Italian village, is actually a family-owned cheese company in the decidedly unromantic industrial township of South El Monte, just outside Los Angeles. For many years, they’ve been providing L.A. chefs with the most delicious fresh mozzarella, ricotta, and burrata this side of the Atlantic. Burrata has a shelf life of about 3 to 4 days, so eat it quickly. (If you can’t find burrata, substitute a soft, fresh handmade mozzarella.)

I hope this quail recipe tempts you to venture away from the usual poultry mainstays. These smaller birds don’t have as much meat as others, but they make up for their size in flavor. On this platter, you’ll find all of my favorite Sicilian ingredients. Ricotta is the favored soft cheese of the south, and here I’ve blended it into a hearty, savory pudding. Pancetta, the essential flavoring of so many things Italian, gives the wilted spinach its salty punch. Olive oil–toasted breadcrumbs are the crunchy finish, a tasty result of the Sicilians’ thrifty mentality. And last but not least, currants and pine nuts are a classic Sicilian combination, bringing sweetness and earthiness to the dish. Grilling the quail gives them a smokiness you can’t achieve in the oven. Build a large fire, and spread the coals to heat the entire surface of the grill. If your barbecue is too small to accommodate all twelve birds at once, grill them in batches and reheat in a very hot oven just before serving. Watch the birds carefully as they grill, so they don’t overcook and dry out.

Look in any Sicilian cookbook and you’ll find a recipe for the popular side dish, or contorno, of cooked greens with currants and pine nuts. I make Swiss chard the main attraction of this dish, layering it onto a savory tart with rich and tangy goat cheese, then topping it with sweet currants and toasted pine nuts. Use a crumbly, slightly aged goat cheese, such as Bûcheron, Rodin Affiné, or the domestically produced Laura chanel aged chèvre. Feel free to substitute any other tender greens, such as the tops of beets or turnips, or a bunch of young mustard greens for the Swiss chard.

Spread on crostini or bruschetta, this makes a nice appetizer to precede a pasta dinner. It can also be spread on potatoes, tossed with pasta, or used as a condiment in wraps. I especially like it as a sauce for Very Green Veggie Pesto Pizza (page 142).

This classic recipe is a good way to highlight this nourishing green vegetable. The rich flavor of pine nuts and sweetness of raisins are surprising yet compatible in tandem with the spinach.

This flavorful warm salad can be made any time of year, its seasonal personality lent by either rosemary (for cooler months) or basil (for warmer weather). It’s a fairly substantial salad, so it’s good served with a straightforward protein dish like Tempeh Fries (page 78), Cornmeal-Crusted Seitan (page 63), or BBQ-Flavored Skillet Tofu (page 62).

Here’s a nearly standard tabouleh recipe with a couple of interesting twists. Quinoa makes it fluffier and lighter than the traditional bulgur (not to mention even more nutritious), and pine nuts give it a rich flavor.

Luscious and yummy are rarely terms applied to salad, but I would be so bold as to use them to describe this one. Offbeat, colorful, and quick, it’s a dish I make often in winter months when cool, crunchy salads are less enticing.

This was inspired by one of my favorite dishes at Veggie Heaven in Teaneck, New Jersey, an all-vegan Chinese-style eatery. It’s quite unlike their signature mock meat dishes, and really, quite unlike anything I have ever eaten in an Asian restaurant.

If I had to choose a favorite quinoa dish, it would be this one. With just a few ingredients, it manages to showcase sweet, savory, and nutty flavors all at once.

Pine nuts are known as pignoli in Italy. Almond paste is available in specialty food stores and most supermarkets; do not substitute marzipan.

Pies and tarts filled with Swiss chard, pine nuts, and raisins are common in southern France and Italy, where they may be served for dessert, sprinkled with confectioners’ sugar or toasted almonds. Goat cheese and anchovies make this galette decidedly savory, while the crust departs from the standard with wholesome oats and whole-wheat flour.