Make Ahead

Manicotti are delicious and provide an easy way to enjoy the textures of stuffed fresh pasta baked in sauce.

This is a fine fast sauce for Shrimp and Tomato Ravioli and Simple Ricotta Ravioli (preceding recipes) as well as for Potato, Leek, and Bacon Ravioli (page 186). Make the sauce just before the ravioli come out of the pot, for the freshest taste. You should definitely peel the tomatoes for this: see my method on page 261.

Spinach pasta is essential to Pasticciata Bolognese (page 200), but you can enjoy it in all the cuts and shapes of fresh pasta. It is best to start prepping the spinach well ahead of time, as detailed in the recipe, for the best texture. You can always freeze the dough until you need it. Spinach pasta is usually more moist than other fresh pastas and so will cook more quickly.

These three pasta doughs look almost identical on paper all purpose flour, eggs, olive oil, water. So you may wonder: How do I know which one to make? Which is the best? The truth is, I’d love to have you make all three so you can see and feel and taste the big differences that result from small variations. And you will realize there is no single “best.” As Italian cooks know, you can mix flour into a fine pasta dough with whatever eggoil water mixture you like, whatever is available in the pantry, or whatever you can afford. This last factor in particular reflects the way pasta has fit into Italian life for centuries: The rich man can have his cook make pasta moistened entirely with fat-laden, tasty egg yolks. A poor family might make their Sunday pasta with one precious egg (and have weekday pasta mixed only with water and a bit of oil). And families in between make pasta with the ingredients they have. But don’t be fooled. The richest is not necessarily best. With two eggs and a goodly amount of extra-virgin olive oil, Poor Man’s Pasta is quite rich and delicious (frankly, it’s my favorite). Part of the fun is in mixing and matching the right pasta with the most compatible sauce, and you’ll find guidance in the pages ahead as well as the challenge to try your own pairings.

Guazzetti are sauces made by slowly simmering meat, game, or poultry in stock, creating a velvety texture that coats pasta wonderfully. Traditionally, a guazzetto got its great flavor from bones with little flesh, but it works with meaty cuts too. Country ribs can be so meaty you’ll have more pork than you need for the sauce, so enjoy it in sandwiches or salads or as a ravioli stuffing.

Everyone traveling to Bologna, Emilia Romagna, is bound to eat ragù Bolognese, ricetta tradizionale and/or ricetta antica. Served with fresh tagliatelle, particularly spinach tagliatelle, it is the precursor to meat sauce as we know it, and still the main Sunday staple at a Bolognese Sunday meal. The ricetta antica, an old recipe, has milk added while the sauce simmers, to give it additional richness and velvety texture. Today it is mostly the tradizionale, without milk, that is cooked in Bologna.

This is a great vegetarian sauce, very complex and satisfying. It’s excellent for pasta, baked in a lasagna or polenta pasticciata, cooked into risotto or as a condiment for grilled steak or fish. The mushrooms you can buy at the supermarket will make a fine sauce; if you have fresh wild mushrooms it will be even better. In either case, dried porcini provide a key element in this sauce (and many others). On using dried porcini, see box on facing page.

Savoy cabbage is the base of this flavorful and hearty wintertime sauce. The cabbage, bacon, and mushrooms are simmered gently for several hours, until the cabbage attains an almost melting texture. The sauce will be thick—and delicious as is with polenta, or loosened in some pasta water to serve with pasta.

Your family will love this fresh flavored purée and won’t guess that it was made from what some consider scraps-the stubs from asparagus stalks and the thick green tops of leeks. And if you hate to throw away tasty, usable food, as I do, you will feel virtuous. The stubs of fresh, tender, skinny asparagus are best for this-don’t even bother if the stubs are dry, white, and woody. Likewise, use only fresh, flexible leek greens here-it’s OK if the leaves are firm and thick but not if they’re wilted, old, or hard as leather.

Here’s a fitting sauce for springtime, full of seasonal treasures: asparagus, sweet peas, scallions, leeks, and fresh mint. And the color? Springtime green! Of course, since all of the ingredients are available year round, you can enjoy this anytime. But it is truly splendid when made with produce in season. Fresh asparagus-locally grown if you can get it-is the foundation of this sauce, both its sweet flavor and the pleasing texture of the finely sliced vegetable. Use skinny asparagus spears for uniform appearance and easy slicing (and don’t throw away the stubs; see recipe that follows). If available, fresh sweet peas are wonderful in the sauce. If not, frozen peas are always acceptable.

I don’t call this sauce “simple” because it is dull in any way. It is a wonderful sauce, lightly textured but richly flavored, sweet and tangy like good tomatoes, and so versatile that I consider it a kitchen staple, one of the sauces that I always have in the freezer. All you need are canned tomatoes; a small amount of onion, carrot, and celery; and salt, peperoncino flakes, and two bay leaves. Then the sauce should mellow for a few hours if possible before using.

You don’t have to wait for primavera—springtime—to make this quick skillet sauce. You probably have most of the ingredients in your pantry and refrigerator all year: canned tomatoes, onions, garlic, a few perennially fresh vegetables like broccoli, mushrooms, and zucchini, and sweet peas from the freezer. (The recipe lists the vegetables I prefer, but don’t be afraid to use others, if that’s what you have on hand.) A key step here is parboiling the firm green vegetables and shocking them in ice water. Then they will only need to heat briefly in the tomato sauce and will keep their own colors, flavors, and textures. This recipe yields about 5 cups or more of sauce, depending on the vegetables. If that looks like more than you need for the amount of pasta you are cooking, take the extra sauce out of the skillet before you toss in the pasta. (See box, page 97.) Refrigerate the reserved sauce and use within 2 or 3 days, or freeze it for a few weeks (it will still taste good, although the color of the vegetables changes a bit in reheating it).

Capon soup in Italy is the soup of the holidays. Rich and full of flavor, it is a soup base for tortellini, straciatella, and passatelli. Here it is difficult to get capon as readily as it is in Italy, but if you can find one, by all means make a big pot of capon soup following the recipe below. It was my mother who started using turkey, especially the wings, in her basic poultry and vegetable broth. She and Giovanni enjoy the meaty pieces—a couple of wings is plenty for them for dinner. Everyone loves the broth, which is sweet, flavorful, and not too strong. And Lorenzo is always ready to have a bowl of broth with noodles after school—proof of its goodness. Not least important to Grandma is that turkey wings are readily available, inexpensive, and, at our big neighborhood market, often on sale. So turkey wings and turkey broth have become staple items in our freezer. I use the broth as I would chicken or vegetable stock, in sauces, roasts, risotti, and lots of skillet dishes. I’ve found it extremely versatile and tasty—but not so much so that it overwhelms other flavors. Here then is our All-Purpose Turkey Broth—my mother’s original with my adjustments. You can use it in many recipes throughout this book, especially in the long-cooking pasta sauces and main course roasts and braises, as well as for all kinds of satisfying soups. Adjust the broth to suit you: either clear and light or with more body, with the vegetables mashed in. This is a large recipe, giving you plenty to freeze and have on hand whenever you need it.

I can still hear the staccato clack-clack-clack of my grandmother’s cleaver on a wooden board as she chopped the pestata, the fine paste of pork fat, garlic, and rosemary, that gave so much flavor to her rich minestra. Occasionally, she would pause and hand me the cleaver: I’d dip it in the boiling soup pot, already full of beans and potatoes, and watch the tiny specks of fat whirl into the broth. After a few moments I’d hand the cleaver back to my nonna, and instantly she’d be chopping again, the hot blade literally melting the thick fat, while the aroma of garlic and pork and beans and rosemary filled the kitchen.... Precious memories! But today I make pestata in the food processor in about 10 seconds! In most ways, however, this minestra is just like my grandmother’s. It cooks for a long time—give it 3 full hours if you can—steadily drawing flavor from pork bones and a soffritto of onion and tomato, and slowly reducing in the soup pot. You’ll have 4 quarts of minestra base, to finish with any of the additions I suggest here, or with other vegetables or grains. Long-grain white rice or small pasta can be added to almost any variation for a denser minestra. For a thicker, smooth consistency, remove some of the beans (a third to a half) before adding the finishing vegetables; purée them, and stir back into the pot for the final cooking.

It is so simple to transform a hard, homely celery root into a lovely salad with delicate taste and texture. Just drop the big root—a softball-sized unpeeled round—into a big pot of water, and let it cook for an hour or more. This technique retains and mellows the root’s wonderful flavor, and makes it easy to peel and cut it up too. Dress this simply, or take the salad in a different direction (see variations).

You may have heard me describe the extraordinary qualities of an authentic aceto balsamico tradizionale—how it takes 20 years of careful concentration to develop its intense flavors; how a few drops make a dish taste magical; and how the price of a tiny bottle has caused many unsuspecting tourists to faint! Here, though, is a more reasonable way to bring some of the intensity and complexity of the greatest balsamic vinegar to everyday dishes: reduce a bottle of the affordable commerciale grade of balsamic to a thick syrup. Don’t look for the cheapest “balsamic” on supermarket shelves; look for a vinegar from a reputable company, produced in Italy—and expect to pay $8 to $10 for a pint. I use this condiment on a range of dishes (and in numerous recipes throughout the book), as a thick sauce to drizzle on meats and vegetables and, in a somewhat thinner state, as a glaze on roasts. As you’ll see in the recipe, the vinegar reduces with added honey and bay leaf, but you can give it other flavor notes. I vary these with the dish I intend to dress: for vegetables I add whole cloves; for meat and poultry I add rosemary; for fish I add thyme. The basic formula will provide you with syrup for drizzling on a half-dozen dishes, maybe more. It will keep forever in the refrigerator, but I’m sure you’ll use it up quicker than that!

This might be considered a salad, but it is a wonderful stuzzichino (something to nibble on). Slow roasting intensifies the flavor of olives and gives them an unusual yet delightful crunch. Tossed with vinegar-poached pearl onions, they make a lively and beautiful salad-condiment. Serve this as an antipasto with cured meats and cheeses, or with grilled meats and fish. It is also a great garnish for sandwiches or with slices of grilled bread. All you need is a plate, a fork, and a glass of good red wine.