Wine

You don’t often see recipes for seafood pastas that incorporate vegetables other than the occasional chopped tomato, but broccoli adds a lot of body, color, and substance to this pasta dish. I love broccoli, but if you don’t, feel free to substitute your favorite green vegetable. It’s a great quick, elegant meal.

This is a mildly flavored dish; the peppers virtually melt into the sauce during the long, slow cooking. In my family this is served as a side dish for pork or lamb.

Many Sicilian dishes feature swordfish, since it is very plentiful in the waters surrounding the island. Eggplant is also found in many dishes from this area, but I prefer the texture and taste of Japanese eggplants over the larger ones because their seeds are so tiny; there is also no need to salt the cubed eggplant because they aren’t as bitter as the fully mature ones can be.

Using cinnamon to flavor a beef dish may sound strange to anyone who is not familiar with the cuisine of southern Italy, where the Moorish influence is apparent in the seasonings of many dishes. I promise, though, the spice is a fantastic addition. The cinnamon gives the sauce a little sweetness and a little heat all in one without being spicy, per se. Try it.

I really prefer the texture of fresh pappardelle with the savory lamb stew; it just seems to absorb the flavors better. If you can’t find fresh pappardelle, though, the dried kind is perfectly acceptable, and it’s good to have on hand to toss with any leftover braised meats and their braising liquid for a quick, warming meal.

This is a typically Italian way of preparing chicken, but Italians rarely combine chicken with pasta; by serving chicken over wide ribbons of fettuccine I’ve created a hybrid Italian-American one-dish meal.

Sweet yellow peppers are exceptionally rich in vitamin C. Serve the soup either hot for a comforting wintertime meal, or chilled in the warm-weather months.

Steaming a pot of shellfish is actually quite simple—and quick. It requires just a small amount of aromatic liquid, such as the wine used in the recipe below, which imparts flavor to the shellfish while also mixing with the flavorful liquid released from the shellfish, resulting in a delicious broth. And the shells serve as a “steamer basket,” keeping the shellfish from being submerged in the liquid. A dry white wine is used as the steaming liquid; other good choices would be beer or water (you could even forgo adding liquid and steam the mussels in a covered pot until they open, as they have enough liquid in their shells, then sprinkle with salt and pepper). Here some aromatics are sautéed before the liquid is added to enhance its flavor before adding the mussels. In Belgium and France, mussels are traditionally accompanied by piping hot French Fries (page 333), but a crusty loaf of bread is always welcome.

This stew is a variation on the well-known French favorite, boeuf bourguignon, also made with mushrooms and onions; here, stout replaces the red wine, but you could make the stew with either. There are a few steps that help enrich the flavor of this dish, all of which are classic in making some stews. First, lardons are cooked to render their fat for use in subsequent steps (they are added to the stew at the end, too). Next, the beef is browned and the pan deglazed to incorporate all of the tasty bits. Then, a bit of Dijon mustard is stirred into the aromatics. For even richer flavor, you can add about a half cup of glace de Viande (page 52) along with the stock. The stew is thickened with a small amount of flour and by simple reduction; that’s why the lid is kept partially askew while the stew simmers, to allow some moisture to escape. Buttery noodles make a perfect accompaniment, as they soak up some of the flavorful broth, while julienned carrots and freshly grated horseradish add fresh flavors—and a little textural contrast—to the otherwise rich dish.

This recipe makes good use of a bone-in cut that takes very well to braising. The ribs are marinated overnight in red wine to give them a deep flavor, then the marinade is reduced to a sauce that glazes the meat. You will need to start with more liquid than in other braising recipes, to avoid having to turn the ribs frequently during cooking, but this leaves excess liquid that must be reduced separately later, before it can be used for glazing (all that reducing is advantageous, since it concentrates the flavors for a rich and unctuous sauce). To do this, use a technique called depouillage, whereby the pan is placed off-center over the burner as the liquid simmers, allowing the impurities to collect on one side for easy skimming and discarding.

Fumet is a white stock made from fish bones and aromatic vegetables, which are first “sweated” (cooked until soft but not taking on any color), then simmered in water. That initial step is a crucial building block, eliciting a touch of sweetness from the leek and developing the flavors for the next step, though it will produce a stock with less clarity than when the aromatics are simply brought to a boil with the rest. (To achieve that result, follow recipe for Basic Chicken Stock on page 41, bringing the fish bones and heads to a boil, then adding vegetables, bay leaf, and peppercorns and simmering 30 minutes before straining.) With its concentrated flavor, fumet is ideal for making fish soups and stews, or for steaming shellfish, such as the Clams in Herbed Broth on page 219. Like other stocks, fumet can be altered for different effects. Increase the ratio of bones to water and you will have a stock with more pronounced fish flavor. For a Mediterranean-style stock, chopped garlic and fennel (and its fronds) can be sweated with the other aromatics, then crushed tomatoes, crumbled saffron, and a few parsley stems added and simmered in the pot along with everything else.

Brown stock gets its color—and its flavor—from the initial step of roasting bones and vegetables, often with a bit of tomato paste added to promote browning and impart a caramelized flavor, as well as a touch of acidity. After the contents of the pan are transferred to a stockpot, the pan is deglazed (either with water or red wine) to incorporate all the flavorful browned bits, which then, too, get added to the pot. In classical French cooking, brown stock is made with veal bones to produce a delicate-bodied soup. In the recipe that follows, beef is added for deeper flavor, but you can replace the beef with more veal bones (or veal stew meat) for the traditional version. Brown stock can also be made with chicken (see variation); this would be ideal for using in more robust dishes, such as braised meats. Heed the general rules for making all stocks, including simmering very gently, skimming frequently, and keeping enough liquid in the pot so that everything is submerged at all times. Brown stock is also the basis for other classic preparations, including demi glace and glace de viande (see page 52).

What I like most about this mussels preparation is that they are not simply steamed in white wine, like the vast majority of mussels you see in restaurants. We cook them with a light tomato sauce—and, yes, also white wine—and toss in piles of herbs after the mussels are cooked, so the herbs wilt only slightly. The finished dish manages to be original and familiar at the same time. It also couldn’t be easier to make.

For this dish, we braise squid in red wine and orange rind. The rind gives the sauce a slight bitterness that can seem overwhelming until you eat it on crostini with a dab of mayonnaise, and then it all comes together. We serve it as a condiment for pasta in the Osteria, which would be a perfect use for leftovers because when dressing pasta, a little goes a long way. We use calamarata, a short ring-shaped pasta that mimics the shape of squid rings, or paccheri, a long, tubular pasta that flattens when it cooks.

Whoever named sweetbreads had an ingenious idea—to give such a nice-sounding name to a part of the animal, the thymus gland, that doesn’t sound all that appetizing. I’ve found that despite the clever name, otherwise open-minded eaters are often squeamish when it comes to eating sweetbreads—a shame, since they can be out of this world. These are seared so they have a crisp exterior and creamy interior. Sweetbreads and artichokes are a pretty typical Italian pairing, and one that I love. While this isn’t a difficult dish to make, it does require several steps, so plan ahead.

One of my favorite daytrips from my house in Italy is to the town of Panzano in Chianti, to visit the world-famous butcher Dario Cecchini. Dario has been covered by every food publication imaginable, and since Bill Buford wrote about him in his memoir, Heat, Dario’s shop has become a mecca for foodies traveling in Italy. To meet the demand of his fans, Dario now has three restaurants that people can visit while they’re there: a steakhouse serving prime cuts, such as bistecca fiorentina, a classic preparation of a T-bone or porterhouse grilled over a wood fire; a hamburger restaurant, Dario Plus; and my favorite of the three, Solo Ciccia. This restaurant, whose name means “only meat,” offers lesser cuts of meats prepared in a variety of ways, many of them cooked long and slow, or stracotto, like this dish. Veal breast isn’t something you’ll find at your average grocery store, so you’ll have to get it from a butcher, and you will probably have to special-order it. Ask the butcher to save the bones he carved the breast from, as you’ll use those to make the stock in which the meat is braised. While you’re at it, have him roll and tie the breast for you, too. Even though this might be out of your ordinary shopping routine, the good news is that you’ll end up with a rich, luxurious veal dish for not a lot of money.

We “borrowed” this recipe from our friend and Italian culinary mentor, Lidia Bastianich. Since it is an Italian tradition to pass recipes down through the generations of a family, and since Lidia’s son, Joe, is one of the three partners who own Mozza, we felt that this was not just okay but also the Italian thing to do.We hope Lidia feels the same way.

In the last few years, it seems like there have been two requirements to opening a successful restaurant in Los Angeles. You have to offer a selection of decent wines by the glass, and you have to offer braised short ribs. You see short ribs served on the bone and off the bone; cooked with Indian spices, Asian spices, and Latin American spices; and served over mashed potatoes, polenta, and who knows what else. I don’t roll my eyes when I see them on a menu because I know how good they can be. Once they’re cooked, they’re good for a few days, so they’re convenient for the home cook. Braise them today; reheat them tomorrow. In the Italian spirit of not wasting any bit of food, shred the leftover meat to make Francobolli di Brasato al Pomodoro (page 177).

Prior to his working at Del Posto, Matt went to Italy with Mario for a story for Gourmet. The premise of the story was that Mario was taking his chefs and the general manager from Del Posto to Italy, specifically to the center of Emilia-Romagna, to show them what it was like to eat there. They ate sixty-two courses in five days and Matt had a lot of dishes to talk about, but the one he was most excited about was the ragù bolognese he had at Diana, a restaurant just outside the main piazza in Bologna. It was as if his eyes had just been opened. He called me right after that meal: “It was rich but delicate and with a touch of sweetness,” he told me. When they got back to New York, while Matt was relegated to the soup station of the kitchen, Mark Ladner and Mark’s team at Del Posto attempted to create a bolognese that captured the spirit of the one at Diana. When Matt tasted Mark’s version, he called me again, excited: “They did it!” he said. “They nailed it.” And that— the Del Posto version of the Diana bolognese—was what Matt was going for when we opened Mozza. Having eaten at Diana myself, I can also tell you that Matt nailed it. When making bolognese, the most important thing is to go slow. You never want the meat to cook directly against the pan, because you want to braise the meat, not brown it. The “secret” to it is the Soffritto, which takes several hours to make—so give yourself time. This is slow food!

We serve this rich, meaty ragù alternately with gnocchi (page 172) and pici (page 168). When the ragù is tossed with gnocchi, the flavor becomes like a rich and delicious meat-and-potatoes dish. It manages to be exotic and familiar at the same time. We use only duck legs and not the whole duck because the meat from the legs is more moist and lends itself better to long cooking. You will probably have to special-order the legs from your poultry purveyor, so when you do, make sure to ask for the livers, too. Alternatively, you can make this ragù with one whole duck, cut into pieces. Not only will this be easier to find but also you’re guaranteed to get the liver with it.