Casserole

I love this Arab equivalent of shepherd’s pie.

This Greek dish takes time and effort but is something special to offer at a dinner party. Serve with rice or with mashed potatoes (see page 297).

This easy casserole offers maximum nourishment. Serve with microwaved or baked sweet potatoes (start the sweet potatoes in the oven about 45 minutes before starting to bake the casserole) and a salad of dark greens and ripe tomatoes.

In translation, arroz con pollo simply means “rice with chicken.” When I was the chef at Cafeteria, the Latin American cooks made this dish for our staff meal just about every day. Its truly authentic flavors are homey and satisfying. I prefer using whole canned tomatoes and crushing them by hand because I have more control of the texture; plus the flavor is a lot better than chopped canned tomatoes.

This is the old-school lasagna that you find in the Italian restaurants in Brooklyn. Fuggedaboudit! You can assemble the lasagna ahead of time … and it’s great for leftovers.

You can use any dried lasagna noodles in this easy no-boil method, just be sure that the noodles themselves are completely covered with the filling and sauce.

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.

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!

I love baked pastas of all kinds (as you probably know), as long as the gratinato, the cheese topping, is properly applied with a light touch, and baked sufficiently, so the cheese is deeply colored, melted, and perfectly crisp at the same time. This Calabrian baked cavatappi has two touches I particularly appreciate: a layer of sliced hard-cooked eggs inside (lending more taste and more protein), and an extra dimension of crunch from bread crumbs on top. You can enhance many other baked pasta recipes this way.

This dish showcases the skillful skillet cookery and flavorful pan sauces that delighted me in Umbria. After lightly frying the veal scallops, you start the sauce with a pestata of prosciutto, anchovy, and garlic, build it up with fresh sage, wine, broth, and capers—and then reduce and intensify it to a savory and superb glaze on the scaloppine. Though veal is most prized in this preparation, I have tried substituting scallops of chicken breast and pork; both versions were quick and delicious. Serve the scaloppine over braised spinach, or with braised carrots on the side.

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.

This traditional casserole of veal scaloppine is simple and simply delicious, with a multitude of harmonious flavors and textures. The scaloppine are quickly fried, then layered in the pan to bake, moistened with an intense prosciutto-Marsala sauce, and topped by a delicate gratinato of Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano. And though veal is customary, scaloppine of chicken breast, turkey breast, or even pork would be excellent prepared this way. The first step, of frying the meat, can be done in advance, but I recommend that you assemble and bake the casserole just before serving: reheating will toughen the gratinato and accentuate the saltiness of the prosciutto.

Make this dish once and you will make it over and over. Everything about it is good. It requires only one big pan, and that one will contain a complete supper of meat, potatoes, and vegetable for at least eight and likely a dozen people. Best of all, everybody loves every bit that comes out of the pan. Socca, as this is called in Valle d’Aosta, is exactly what the English recipe name says: a big casserole with layers of sliced beef, sliced potatoes, and shredded cabbage (all nicely seasoned). It bakes for several hours, until all the layers are fork-tender, then it’s covered with a final layer of fontina, which bakes into an irresistibly crusty cheese topping. (Though it is unlikely you will have much left over, the dish will keep well for several days in the refrigerator; reheat it either on top of the stove or in the oven.) In Valle d’Aosta, the meat of choice in socca is beef or game; in my recipe, it’s a top-blade roast from the beef chuck (or shoulder). Since I am sure you will make this again, I suggest you try it with slices of pork shoulder (the butt roast) or lamb shoulder or lamb leg. These meats will be delicious in the casserole, too.

The marvelous melting qualities of authentic fontina are particularly evident in baked pasta dishes such as this delicious pasticcio. When it is in the oven with penne (or other tubular or concave pastas, like ziti, rigatoni, or shells), the molten cheese oozes around each piece of pasta and is caught in all of its nooks and crannies. The cheese on top of the pasticcio melts and then becomes crusty and caramelized.

This might seem like an unusual dish, a pasticciata (a layered casserole) of bread and cheese that’s baked, cut into portions, and served in a bowl of hot broth. Yet the tastes and eating pleasure of seuppa ou piat will be completely familiar and welcome to anyone who loves the gratinéed crouton of French onion soup or enjoys a crispy grilled-cheese sandwich with a bowl of rich chicken broth alongside. This is a good dish for company, because you can have both the broth and the pasticciata hot and ready to be put together when your guests come. (Chicken stock is my preference, but a savory vegetable stock or a meaty beef broth is just as good.)

My grandmother passed this recipe down to my mom and she then passed it on to me. It's a casserole of pure comfort. First, bitter endive is simmered until sweet, then wrapped in savory ham and smothered with a creamy nutmeg béchamel. Gruyère tops it off before it's baked until bubbly and golden.