Cookbooks

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.”

This dough is more toothsome than any of our other pasta dough because it is fortified with semolina, a by-product of milling durum wheat flour, which is what the majority of dried pasta is made of. We use it to make orecchiette and pici, both of which need a strong dough to hold their shape.

We use dry dough to make the pastas that we serve with our ragùs. It gets shaped into maltagliati, garganelli, corzetti stampati, and tagliatelle (all described later), as well as other short shapes. We call it dry dough because it feels dryer than our basic pasta dough since it is made with only egg yolks and no whites.

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.

It’s very traditional to use ortiche, or “nettles,” to make green pasta such as this one. Despite the fact that they are often called “stinging nettles,” they don’t really sting, but they do have a bristly texture that can irritate your skin. If you wash them first, they won’t bother you as you pick the leaves off the stems. Another solution is to wear thin rubber gloves. If you can’t find nettles, spinach is an acceptable substitute. In either case, the greens have so much water in them (no matter how much you try to squeeze it all out) that we use very few eggs in this dough.

This is the Basic Pasta Dough with the addition of squid ink. The ink makes the pasta black and also infuses it with a subtle seafood flavor. You may want to wear plastic gloves while making this pasta; otherwise, the black ink will stain your hands for days. You can buy squid ink or cuttlefish ink at Italian and specialty food stores; if you can’t find it, you can’t make this dough. Use a quality store-bought squid ink pasta, preferably fresh, instead.

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.

Pici are long, hand-rolled strands from the Montalcino area of Tuscany, not far from my house. Also called umbrichella, this pasta is the most typical shape in my region, so naturally I wanted to serve it at Mozza. Although it is not a regular item on the menu, we often use pici in place of the gnocchi in the Gnocchi with Duck Ragù (page 187).

Orecchiette, meaning “little ears,” are small dome- shaped disks. They are the most common shape in Puglia. They’re used in many regional dishes there, including the one that inspired our Orecchiette with Fennel Sausage and Swiss Chard (page 180). Although this shape doesn’t look as intricate as some of the others, it is one of the most difficult to shape, which is probably why so few restaurants make their own. Following our instructions, you can’t fail. To get the desired texture on the surface of the pasta, we suggest you use a plastic cutting board. At the Osteria, we use a wooden cutting board that has been deliberately scored with a knife, which gives the orecchiette the texture we want.

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.

Maltagliati means “badly cut,” and is so named because the pieces are cut from the sheet of dough in random shapes. In order for us to ensure that the pasta cooks evenly, however, ours only look randomly cut but are actually all cut to the exact same shape and size.

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.

Garganelli, which comes from the word gargala, meaning “trachea,” are hollow ridged tubes, similar to penne. We prefer garganelli for our ragù bolognese (see page 189) over the more traditional tagliatelle because we like the way the small bits of sauce stick to the ridges on the outside and get tucked inside the tubes. Since garganelli are also a specialty of Bologna, we think that we haven’t done too much injustice to tradition. To make this shape you’ll want to have a thin plastic pen on hand. We remove the ink cartridge just to be safe, and you might want to do the same.

This was one of the original ten pizzas we served at the Pizzeria. I knew I wanted to offer a potato pizza, and I love the combination of potatoes and Gorgonzola.

Corzetti stampati, or “stamped coins,” are a traditional pasta shape of Genoa, made using a wooden stamp to imprint a design onto the “coins.” Corzetti are usually served with the most famous Genoese pasta dish: basil pesto with green beans and potatoes. Matt and I shirked that tradition and serve ours with a Sicilian dish, pasta with eggplant and tomato sauce, instead. If you can’t find a stamp, you could get away with making unstamped coins using a 2-to 2 1/2-inch cookie cutter.

Chitarra means “guitar” in Italian, and the shape, a specialty of Abruzzo, gets its name from the device with which it’s made—a wooden frame strung with metal wire like a guitar. The way it works is that a sheet of pasta dough is pressed down onto the strings, which cut the sheet into long, square spaghetti-like strands. We make chitarra alternately this way and by cutting the sheets with a long knife.

No matter how creative we like to be with our pizzas, we also have a big place in our hearts for the classics such as this—essentially a pepperoni pizza with roasted chiles added for extra kick.

When people talk about good gnocchi, you always hear about how “light” they are, but I find that just because gnocchi are light doesn’t mean they’re good. More often than not, gnocchi taste and feel to me like boiled mashed potatoes or mushy dumplings. It wasn’t until I had good gnocchi, which, in addition to being light, had some texture and springiness to them, that I realized how good they could be. Matt worked really hard to ensure that our gnocchi had those qualities. This dough is very starchy and sensitive, so the gnocchi must be formed and served the same day the dough is made. You must use russet potatoes.

This is my answer to that controversial phenomenon of the mainstream pizza world—anchovy pizza. I use marinated white anchovies, which you can get at specialty stores both in the deli and in the fish departments. They are silvery and slightly plump, like sardines—very different from salt-packed anchovies or those sold in cans and jars. I love their flavor and vinegary quality.