Oven Bake

In Italy, lasagne is usually made with fresh pasta, either made at home or bought at the local shop (practically every town has one). The quality of the pasta is in fact the key to the dish, since the ratio of noodles to sauce should be fairly equal. The other components should also be of top quality, as they will contribute to the overall dish; buy fresh ricotta and mozzarella if possible—both will lend wonderful flavor and creaminess. This vegetarian lasagne evokes the Italian flag, with its layers of red (marinara sauce), white (cheese), and green (fresh spinach pasta). If you would like to incorporate some meat, brown a pound of sweet Italian sausage (casings removed), crumbling with a spoon as it cooks, then halve the sausage and sprinkle evenly among the cheese in two layers. The pasta dough should be made as close to assembling the lasagne as possible, so plan accordingly. There is no need to pre-boil these noodles. Once rolled out to the thinnest setting on your pasta machine, stack the noodles (they should measure 5 inches wide and 26 inches long) on a baking sheet with plenty of semolina in between to keep them from sticking together. The lasagne can be assembled on one day and then baked on the next; cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate until ready to bake.

A tian is a Provençal creation named for the traditional earthenware baking dish. Be sure to drizzle generously with oil to impart flavor and keep the vegetables from drying out (remember, there’s no other liquid in a tian); you can spoon off excess oil after cooking.

This is a good way to use tomatoes that are less than perfect, as the baking intensifies their flavor, and honey enhances their sweetness. They make lovely accompaniments to meat, chicken, or fish, or use them when steaming en papillote (see page 215). The tomatoes can be refrigerated in an airtight container up to three days.

Preparing foods en papillote, which loosely translates to “wrapped in paper,” is actually another way to steam food, even though it takes place in the oven rather than on the stove. It is most commonly used for fish fillets but is also well suited to shellfish and leaner cuts of chicken, such as boneless breast halves. This French technique always manages to impress, the pretty little packages resembling gifts, one for each guest. When the packets are slit open—ceremoniously, at the table—their fragrant aromas are released all at once, hinting at the tastes to come. These bundles are ideal for entertaining, but cooking en papillote has other advantages, too. The packets can be assembled a few hours ahead of time (covered with plastic wrap and refrigerated on a baking sheet) and then tucked into the oven once your guests arrive. And, like other steaming methods, it doesn’t require much added fat; instead, the sealed parchment traps in all that wonderful moisture and flavor. In this recipe, a compound butter helps bring all the components together while adding richness to the dish. Forming the packets is easy—no special skills required. The shape isn’t as important as making sure the edges are tightly sealed. You can fold the parchment into envelopes, wrap it into bundles, or form it into bags, but half-moon packets are the classic shape. The traditional technique begins by cutting paper into a heart shape, but this one starts out as a simple rectangle.

For this method, garlic is poached with oil, which becomes infused with the flavor of garlic and thyme. When lightly pressed, the cloves will pop out of their peels, and can be served with crusty bread, or spread onto the pastry shell of a savory tart before filling and baking. The oil can then be drizzled over vegetables before roasting, used in vinaigrettes or marinades, or brushed on crostini.

In this recipe, the eggs are paired with a heady sauté of shallots and morels—wild mushrooms prized in French cuisine for their distinctive taste and rarity (they grow largely in areas recently stricken with forest fires). They are in season during the spring months; substitute other wild mushrooms, such as oysters or chanterelles, if morels are unavailable.

Pilafs originated in the Middle East, where they are usually made with rice. The rice is toasted in butter or oil along with aromatic vegetables such as onion, then the mixture is cooked with stock (or water) in the oven. The grain is ready for the liquid to be added when it gives off a nutty, toasted aroma. The desired texture of a pilaf is fluffy, with no grains sticking to each other. Pilafs can contain a variety of other ingredients, such as dried fruit, nuts, and pasta such as orzo. Here is a basic recipe, followed by two variations.

A specialty of the southwest of France, cassoulet—named for cassole, the oval earthenware dish in which it was made—is a rich, slow-cooked bean stew made with white beans, meats (most often pork and sausages), and duck or goose confit. The dish is time consuming—it can take an entire day from start to finish—but is manageable when you break it into three tasks, which can be spaced out over a few days. The first step is to prepare Duck Confit (see page 232). Next the beans (which have to be soaked overnight) are cooked on the stove. Then the confit and beans are layered in a pot, along with pork and sausage, and baked for about three hours.

You will need to dry the bread cubes overnight; transfer them to resealable plastic bags until you’re ready to make the stuffing, up to one day more. (You could also dry them in a 300°F oven for 20 to 30 minutes, if necessary.)

This is a wonderful example of a vegetarian dish that isn’t at all compromised by its lack of meat. We scatter artichoke leaves over the surface of the pizza so you get the flavor of artichoke in every bite. The mild flavor of the stracchino contrasts nicely with the bitterness of the artichokes.

In the Pizzeria kitchen we refer to this as the “breakfast pizza” because of the traditional combination. We don’t cut through the egg because the whole egg looks pretty in the center of the pizza when we bring it to the table. And that way our customers can have the thrill of breaking the yolk themselves.

The richness of peperonata contrasted with the mild flavor of ricotta is so perfect we found a way to offer it in both the Pizzeria and the Osteria (see Peperonata with Ricotta Crostini, page 87). We use buricotta, which looks pretty because the cheese holds its shape when it’s baked, but if you can’t get buricotta, the pizza will be equally good made with quality fresh ricotta. In a perfect world your ricotta will get blackened in places like a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

This is a basic three-cheese pizza, the only surprise being the truffle-infused sottocenere cheese. Friend-of-Mozza Michael Krikorian orders this pizza with Fennel Sausage (page 137) on top. His version has become so popular that regular customers now know they can order the same thing if they ask for the “Michael.”

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.

If we were one of those pizzerias that give wacky names to each pie, this mixed mushroom pizza would be called “The Vegas Guys,” or “Peter’s Pizza.” Our editor, Peter Gethers, has a group of guys he goes to Las Vegas with every year for some sort of guy reunion weekend. They meet in Los Angeles and the tradition is that they choose a different restaurant to eat dinner in the night before they leave for Vegas. I’m flattered that for the last few years, they’ve quit chowing around and held their dinner consistently in the private dining room in the Pizzeria, called the Jack Warner Room. They were particularly excited about this pizza. It’s a pretty straightforward mushroom pie, but the fact that we roast the mushrooms before adding them to the pizza, and the combination of taleggio and fontina cheeses that top it, make it especially flavorful.

Long-cooked broccoli is one of my all-time favorite vegetable preparations, so I had to find a way to work it onto a pizza. Normally I don’t like broccoli on pizza because whenever I’ve seen it, it’s just been dropped onto the pizza raw, and often with a whole mix of other uncooked vegetables that don’t go with each other or with pizza. Here, the broccoli is cooked until it has a buttery texture, so it works with the crust instead of just sitting on top of it. We use a mix of mozzarella and caciocavallo cheese, a Sicilian cheese similar to mozzarella that has been dried and aged for a few weeks, so it has a funky aged flavor that goes well with the broccoli. If you can’t find caciocavallo cheese, look for scamorza, or use all mozzarella in its place.

This is my number-one favorite Pizzeria Mozza pizza, and it’s a direct rip-off of the Norcia pizza they serve at Pellicano. Sausage and panna, or cream, is a classic combination in Umbria. The summer I discovered this pizza I ordered it every time I went to Pellicano, in an effort to figure out what was in the white sauce that was smeared on the crust. When I asked, they told me “panna.” I knew panna was cream, but I couldn’t understand how they could put cream on pizza. Finally, I went back to the kitchen to see for myself, and what I saw was that the cream had been whipped, making it spreadable. Whipping cream for a pizza was such a foreign idea to me that when I started playing with pizzas for the restaurant, I tried to avoid it. I made this pizza with crème fraîche and later with mascarpone—anything not to put whipped cream on a pizza—but the whipped cream was definitely the best.

Clam pizza, a Connecticut tradition, is one of the specialties at Lombardi’s in New York City, and having my first clam pie there is one of my most memorable pizza-eating experiences. We use a combination of Parmigiano and pecorino to finish this pizza, but if you want to use only one, pick your favorite.