Vegetarian

Try this recipe for a delicious Italian rendition of mashed potatoes. I recall that my grandma would fork-mash boiled potatoes, drizzle some extra-virgin olive oil, and sprinkle with coarse sea salt. Here I added some roasted garlic cloves, very much an Italian American favorite.

I grew up on Swiss chard, but in the United States it has only become a popular part of the leafy-vegetables section in markets during the last ten years. I love the vegetable: I love cooking with it and using it in soups, as well as in pastas, risottos, and fish dishes. To me, everything is good when served with Swiss chard. This simple dish is a family recipe my grandmother made for us, and it is still a favorite at our table. The children love it as well.

The love Italians have for the artichoke is evident at the table. It is also evident as you visit markets in Italy, when you search through the pickled and canned vegetables in the Italian section of specialty stores in America, and when you consider the endless number of recipes dedicated to this thistle.

Cauliflower braised in tomato sauce is not a new recipe, but I had this delicious rendition, which I share with you here, at Torrisi.

While the word parmigiana literally means “from Parma,” a town in northern Italy, this dish is clearly Sicilian in origin. Here you have the traditional eggplant-parmigiana recipe that everyone loves. This versatile dish can be made in advance and baked when your guests arrive. It reheats well as a leftover and makes a great sandwich as well. In Italy, sometimes it is not even baked, but assembled with sauce and a generous sprinkling of grated Grana Padano, eliminating the mozzarella, and eaten straightaway. And at Roberto’s, on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx, I found alternating layers of eggplant and zucchini—delicious.

This dish exemplifies Sicilian cooking, especially in the late-summer months, when eggplant, tomatoes, and peppers are at their best. The same kind of summer-vegetable preparation also appears in French ratatouille. But the difference is that the Sicilians make it agrodolce, sweet and sour: cooking some vinegar and sugar, then tossing with the vegetables. The acidity in the vinegar hinders spoilage, and in hot New Orleans summers, this dish keeps well without refrigeration. Caponata requires a lot of preparation, but once done it keeps well in the refrigerator for up to ten days, and freezes well, so it makes sense to make a big batch. It is a very versatile dish—as an appetizer with some cheese, as a side dish, or as a delicious sandwich stuffer. Actually, it improves if left to steep for a while. I love it at room temperature with a piece of grilled meat or fish.

Cauliflower, a good vegetable especially in the winter, can be prepared in many ways. I sometimes like just to boil it and while the cauliflower is boiling, add an egg or two to boil as well. When the cauliflower and the eggs cool, I peel the eggs, then toss the cauliflower and eggs into a great salad, dressed just with olive oil and vinegar. But the following is a recipe I got from Torrisi in New York, a deli-looking place set up with sixteen seats for dining. The cauliflower I had was delicious, and the bread crumbs used were made by Progresso, which was started by Italian immigrants in New Orleans in 1905.

Everybody loves roasted potatoes, and these have a Mediterranean twist—lots of garlic and rosemary. The aroma of roasted rosemary in my mind conjures up images of big roasted meats and holidays, so whenever I make this dish it feels like a holiday to me.

Italians love the chicory family of vegetables, of which escarole is a member. Escarole was one of the abundant leafy green vegetables that they could readily find in the States. Today it has fallen out of favor, but when I opened Buonavia, my first restaurant, in 1971, we were cooking escarole by the bushel. We served it in soups, braised with garlic and oil as a side dish, in salads, and for an appetizer; or we would stuff it, as in the recipe below. In Italy, stuffed greens served with beans would often have been the whole meal, not just a side.

What makes this dish truly good is the old bread soaked in milk. Not only is it flavorful and mellow, but the traditions are steeped in preserving and respecting food: waste not, want not. It makes for a great vegetarian main course. With some old bread and whatever was growing in the garden, the Italian immigrants could make a delicious meal.

You might be used to breaded and fried zucchini cut in French-fry fashion, but when my mother fried zucchini, she would always cut them in rounds or slices. I liked them that way: they made great sandwich stuffers, especially when the flavors and moistness of the zucchini seeped into the bread. For over-the-top flavor, add a few slices of Swiss cheese and melt under the broiler or in a sandwich press. The perfect Italian lunch.

Italians love their artichokes in a thousand ways, and stuffed with seasoned bread crumbs is a favorite. This recipe is an Italian American rendition, much richer and with more stuffing and ingredients than the one found in Italy. It was often an appetizer on the menu of Italian American restaurants in the 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s, and most likely the first way that many Americans tasted artichokes Italian-style. And I am sure the charm of it was the discovery of how to eat this curious thistle with not much pulp but lots of flavor.

At our home, when we were newly arrived immigrants, for Sunday dinner it was either gnocchi or garganelli with sugo. The sugo, a rich sauce, was made of either chicken or cubed veal or pork—all second cuts of meat—which created a first-class sauce. The sugo does take two to three hours to make, so, if you have no time for the sugo and have a good piece of Gorgonzola, try this sauce. It will take no more than ten minutes once you have the gnocchi done.

I don’t encounter stuffed shells in Italy much; stuffed paccheri (big and floppy rigatoni-lookalikes) are much more common there. But I have sold a lot of stuffed shells throughout my restaurant days. This is comfort food—pasta stuffed with milky ricotta and topped with oozing melted cheese, and just about everybody loves it. It is a common dish, present in many Italian American restaurant menus and households. It is also very convenient, because the oven does the work, and you can feed a large number of guests.

Baked ziti is a real crowd pleaser. It is easy to assemble, one of those recipes that you can multiply and make double or triple the amount on those occasions when you have to feed your kids’ soccer team. It is also a versatile recipe as we become more attentive to our intake of nutritious proteins and vegetables; it is delicious with additional steamed or leftover vegetables or chicken. Legend has it that, as Attila approached Rome, Pope Leo I brought baked ziti with him to meet the invader. After the meal, Attila developed serious gas, considered a bad omen by the gods, and turned around and left Rome untouched. I don’t know many who could leave a steaming plate of baked ziti untouched. Sicilian in origin, this was a favorite of many Italian immigrants, who could take the ziti into the fields or mines with them and have a tasty lunch.

Macaroni and cheese has to be one of the quintessential American comfort foods. To most people it brings back fuzzy memories of a childhood family table. Even Thomas Jefferson had a thing or two to say about this dish. He ordered a macaroni-making machine and instructed the cook to use cheese liberally on the pasta and bake it like a casserole. It appears that this “macaroni” was more similar to the spaghetti of today. A lot of the versions of macaroni and cheese that you may have eaten would have had some form of cream sauce or roux, but here I’ll give you a recipe for this dish as an Italian in Italy would make it: a simply delicious rendition.

Pasta with spring vegetables—or, for that matter, any vegetables—has always been a staple of Italian cuisine. But Sirio Maccioni, the renowned Italian restaurateur who has owned Le Cirque for decades, claims to be the one to baptize it primavera in 1974. Along with Romeo Salta, and the Giambelli brothers, Sirio was at the lead in bringing the fine Italian dining experience to New York. Sirio runs a restaurant that is French by name but serves pasta primavera.

If there is one dish that I can affirm is Italian American, this is it. It has all the pedigree of being Italian, though it was definitely born in America. This is one of those few recipes that crossed the Atlantic in the other direction, and the Italians in Italy have been enjoying it as well. The first references we find to vodka sauce are from the early 1980s.