Sage

Bourbon whiskey, a uniquely American spirit, can be used in cooking the same way wine often is in French recipes, as a splash that lends a subtle, aromatic presence and a bit of moisture. A whiskey sausage, with its breath of musty sage, makes a perfect grilling patty for sandwiching in a bun smeared with tomato chutney. Or, you can roll the sausage into small balls and serve them with the chutney as a dipping sauce. Two things distinguish this speedy chutney from bona fide tomato ketchup: its consistency is a little looser and less dense, and it is made in little more than half an hour. It will keep in the refrigerator for up to 2 months before its savor diminishes. Use it also to accompany pork chops or grilled chicken or game.

These are dead easy to make and have endless applications in the kitchen. Use them to baste or brown ingredients and they will add pizzazz and excitement to stews and roasts. Likewise, they will jazz up a panful of onions or other vegetables for a soup or sauce and impart character to fish dishes. Herb oils come into their own when drizzled over summer or winter salads; they are also excellent used in mayonnaises and dressings. The basic principle is to choose robust flavorings and leave them for long enough to impart their mighty characters to the oil. Always use a good-quality oil as your base (see pp. 30–31). In all cases, to prevent the oil from becoming rancid, store in a cool place and use within 6 months.

Season: Spring and summer. The healing, warming properties of sage have long been recognized, and one traditional way to imbibe them is by means of a liqueur, such as this one. The velvety, gray-green leaves are steeped in eau-de-vie and the resulting elixir should, I’m told, be drunk each day to ensure good health and a long life. I take just a capful (not a cupful) myself each morning and find it very restorative. Of course, this is not the only way to use this soothing herb liqueur–a glassful can be enjoyed as a comforting digestif, or a capful can be diluted with tonic water for an aromatic pick-me-up. Gather the sage on a warm, dry day. As an evergreen, this herb can be picked throughout the year, but it’s at its best during the spring and summer months.

Every time I make this gratin I get the same response: “This is so good!” Honestly, though, when you combine potatoes and squash with cream, sage, and cheese, how could it not be amazing? This gratin is especially well suited for dinner parties or any other time you need a hearty, make-ahead side dish. It scales up easily (just increase the ingredients and baking dishes accordingly), and it reheats wonderfully.

This silky, sophisticated soup is proof that beans can be so much more than humble peasant food. Serve it as a warming first course or main dish. You can use cannellini beans or white navy beans in this soup, but given the choice, I prefer the cannellinis. They’re larger and have comparatively less skin, so they produce a creamier soup.

Chef Nancy Oakes used fresh duck livers from Sonoma County Poultry when she made these elegant crostini during the 1997 Workshop, but chicken livers work, too. She hand-chopped the warm sautéed livers with butter and a lot of sweet sautéed onion, plus just enough earthy truffle oil to make them worthy of a black-tie occasion.

Cauliflower topped with brown butter and bread crumbs is a classic French dish; here the same components (plus sage, often used to flavor brown butter) combine to produce a delicious pasta sauce.

WHEN COLD WEATHER SETTLES IN, it’s time for this rich soup. Bacon adds even deeper flavor to the classic Italian white beans and sage combination. Using nitrate-free bacon is the best option, for both flavor and health reasons, and it’s becoming more widely available.

Beans cooked and served simply seasoned—like the cannellini beans in the previous recipe with garlic and rosemary—is only one of a great many bean dishes—soups, gratins, purées, and more—that are tastier when their primary flavoring comes after an initial cooking. I sometimes add garlic or herbs or even a bit of onion while the beans are cooking the first time, but I find that good flavor is most prominent when it’s added after the primary cooking. Added flavor can mean anything from a dash of olive oil to a complex tomato sauce, depending on the dish. For example, in the classic Italian dish called fagioli all’uccelletto (which means beans seasoned like a small bird), the cooked beans are simmered in a garlicky tomato sauce with plenty of sage. An example from Mexican cuisine is frijoles refritos, beans which, after an initial cooking, are fried in lard with garlic and sautéed onions, and then mashed. (There are exceptions to every rule, and one that comes immediately to mind is that when something like a ham hock or a prosciutto bone is used to flavor beans, it can be added at the beginning to cook slowly with the beans throughout their cooking.) The beans should be drained of most of their liquid before final flavorings are added. (Save the bean water to make a tasty soup base or to moisten a gratin as it cooks.) Once the beans are ready, stir in the flavorings. Continue to cook them together for at least 10 minutes or so, to allow the flavors to infuse the beans. To make gratins like the one that follows, first sauté onions, carrots, and celery together. To make sure they contribute their full flavor, season the vegetables to taste before adding them to the beans. Beans are very lean and the addition of a flavorful oil or fat makes them taste even better.

Sweet potatoes cooked in piloncillo (unrefined solid cane sugar, usually found in the shape of small truncated cones) are sold as candy at Mexican mercados. They are way too sweet for me, but there’s no denying the spud’s versatility. Here I highlight their savory flavor by mashing sweet potatoes with a little butter and sage in a great fall dish that works well with roasted turkey. Feel free to use skim milk instead of whole milk, if you must, but keep that stick of butter!

Making your own gnocchi is not as difficult or as time-consuming as you may think. Don’t be afraid to try it! Sweet potatoes, a favorite Mexican ingredient, give the dough for these gnocchi a subtle sweetness and added nutrients (sweet potatoes are rich in fiber and vitamins A, B, and C). A simple butter-sage sauce is all you need to finish off this satisfying dish.

I like to serve this hearty soup at Thanksgiving. It has a smooth, silky texture and a beautiful color with a slight peppery flavor from the sage. Serve it with the cheesy Fontina crostini for an elegant meal.

The flour-enriched water in which pasta has cooked is never going to be an essential component of fine cooking, and it seldom appears in recipes. Yet from its origins as a cost-free, effortless substitute for stock, olive oil, butter, cream, or other occasionally scarce or even precious ingredients, pasta-cooking water has become a convenient and zero-calorie addition to simple sauces. When you compare a lightly creamy sauce like the one in this recipe to the highly flavorful and ever-popular Alfredo sauce of butter, cream, eggs, and cheese, the latter seems relatively heavy. Substituting water for much of the butter and all of the cream and eggs produces a sauce with a perfect balance of weight and flavor. The water lends a moist quality, not unlike that produced by tomatoes, as opposed to the slickness contributed by straight fat. This is best as a starter, not a main course, but it’s still pretty rich. I would stick with a light fish preparation to follow, even a big salad.

It’s still rare to see boneless chicken breasts in Italy, probably because people understand how difficult it is to keep them from drying out. The simplest solution is to leave them on the bone, which helps retain moisture (and, arguably, makes for a nicer presentation). This is a nice, simple, fast stovetop braise, especially pleasant in spring and fall. (The first variation, which uses boneless breasts, is even faster.) Fresh herbs are a must. Serve with plain white rice or—even better, of course—any risotto (pages 521–522).

Good, tender calf liver is one of our most underrated meats, in part, I suspect, because nearly everyone overcooks it. It is best rare, and this recipe takes advantage of that.

Every traveler to Italy’s countryside tells stories about elderly couples seen out on the hillsides scavenging for greens. One of the things they do with the greens is fill pasta. One of my favorite quotes about ravioli was from a friend: “The older my grandmother gets, the bigger her ravioli.” If you’re unskilled, start with big ones; you will be far more successful. Remember that in Italy there have long been people—women, it’s safe to guess—who specialize in handmade pasta; it is a skill and an art, and unless you practice frequently, you’re not likely to get good at it. But it can be fun, and you can always choose to make cannelloni; see page 545.

A typical topping for crostini (and not a bad dish on its own), this hearty combination makes a great starter for a vegetarian meal. Cannellini beans are traditional here, but any white bean will work. The spread and bread may be made well in advance, but don’t combine them until just before serving.

This is the quintessential Italian American dish: from the 1950s through the 1980s, every Italian restaurant had it on the menu. It is still one of America’s favorite dishes and is easy to make. The important part of the recipe is to begin cooking the meat and mushrooms separately, then combine them at the end so the flavors blend. Marsala is the special ingredient in this dish. Around the city of Marsala, Malvasia, a varietal of a very aromatic grape, grew in abundance. Wine has been made from this varietal for centuries, and the English took note of it and began importing it. The history of England and the New World needs no retelling, and this is most likely how Marsala made it across the pond. When the Sicilian immigrants settled in America, and rediscovered it, it was a natural reunion.

Veal saltimbocca, which literally translates as “jumps in the mouth,” hails from Rome. It is rather simple, but simplicity is hard to achieve. In the late 1960s, when I worked in Italian restaurants to help pay for my college tuition, veal saltimbocca was always on the menu but never tasted like it did in Rome. The important flavor ingredients here are the prosciutto and the fresh sage. The early immigrants were curing hams into prosciutto at home, which eventually developed into formal businesses, such as the Volpi & Co. in St. Louis, now known as Volpi Foods. In those days, fresh herbs were hard to find—unless you were Italian and grew them at home. By the time I opened Felidia in the 1980s, fresh herbs were coming to the supermarkets, and by the 1990s, Prosciutto di Parma began crossing the ocean, so now the saltimbocca has regained its true flavors. So, unless you use fresh sage, skip it.

This marinade is great with all cuts of pork: loin, butt, ribs, fresh ham, or chops.