Simmer

Pat: Creamy, smoky white beans, simmered with some kind of pork fat, are a Southern staple, especially when served with a wedge of warm cornbread. This white-bean soup is finished with kale, a nourishing green that’s packed with vitamins A and C (the leaves are so pretty that Gina uses the green and purple varieties to decorate her party trays). Smoked sausage makes a great addition to this soup, and what we do then is leave out the bacon and add 1/2 pound of sliced smoked sausage instead. (You’ve heard the expression “an eye for an eye” in Memphis we say “a pig for a pig.”)

Pat: This is our kind of tomato soup—it has plenty of attitude! A double dose of heat (crushed red-pepper flakes and chipotle-pepper purée) gives it a smoky undertone; a garnish of avocado relish balances the flavors and provides an appealing texture. This soup is delicious with hot cornbread or grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches.

Pat: This creamy corn chowder, packed with vegetables and spices, has more sass than your average chowder (and the sweet potato and spices give it a distinct orange hue). The ingredients smoky bacon, fresh herbs, and a little Neely kick (cayenne pepper) combine for an over-the-top, out-of-this-world chowder flavor. When corn is at its peak, during the summer, we use fresh kernels straight from the cob. But since we crave this soup all year long, we use frozen corn as well and get great results. If you use frozen corn, look for the white kernels—they are particularly sweet.

Gina: Homemade chicken stock is our way of adding a little extra love to any dish, from soup to stew to rice pilaf. And it’s so easy to make: We throw a whole bird (yeah, the whole thing) in the soup pot, along with plenty of aromatics, and let it simmer for a few hours. This gives our stock plenty of taste. For an even richer chicken flavor, add the carcass of a roasted chicken to the stock as you are cooking it.

Pat: My mother, Lorine, loved spending time in the kitchen and started cooking when she was a young girl. Friends knew her as the girl in school who enjoyed taking home-economics classes and collecting recipes, and when they went looking for her they knew where to go (the kitchen). Cooking is something she has kept at her whole life, so it’s no surprise that Momma has become the best gravy-maker in our family. What makes this recipe special is that Momma learned it from her mother. It’s an heirloom, and you’re gonna love it. Our family has never prepared “white” or cream gravies; we prefer what is called a brown flour gravy, meaning the flour is browned in fat before the liquid is added, which creates a particularly rich flavor. This recipe is meant to be a guide. Feel free to adjust the fat, flour, and liquid according to the amount you want to prepare. But the proportions we give are dead-on, and will result in one of the most delicious gravies you will ever prepare. It’s slammin’ over mashed potatoes, pork roast, fried chicken, and Gina’s Perfect Rice.

A simple way to make spumoni in the shape you remember is to use tall 10-ounce paper cups, like the ones you get when you order a soda. You can make the layering process simpler by spooning in a level layer of vanilla ice cream, then chocolate ice cream, then flavored whipped cream. If you’d prefer to serve one large spumoni instead of individual ones, prepare the spumoni in a 6-cup soufflé dish, layering it into the dishes as described below. Let the frozen large spumoni stand at room temperature 10 to 15 minutes before inverting it onto a serving plate. Cut it into wedges to serve.

In this recipe, I prepare the zuppa inglese almost as you would a layer cake. Although the method is fairly easy, you may want to try the following more traditional and even easier way the first time you make it. Prepare all the components as described below, but assemble them thus: Line a 13 × 7–inch ceramic or glass serving dish with one layer of sponge cake, cut side up. Brush and fill the layers as described below, finishing with a layer of whipped cream over the top layer of cake. Chill and decorate as described below. To serve, spoon the zuppa inglese from the dish, passing any remaining whipped cream and pastry-cream sauce separately.

Try this salad as it was made traditionally, without vinegar. If you feel the capers don’t supply the necessary zing, sprinkle a little wine vinegar over the salad and toss it again. Warm salads like this take the chill out of a cold-cut lunch and go very well alongside grilled fish, chicken, or sausages.

The secret to bringing out the flavor of the zucchini without making it soggy is to cook it whole for just long enough to soften it. If you don’t have cherry tomatoes, cut regular tomatoes into chunks more or less the size of the sliced zucchini.

I’m sure this dish will take you back, whether you make it with “Italian” string beans (those flat wide ones), regular string beans, or the more expensive, thinner haricots verts. It isn’t necessary to start with a long-simmered tomato sauce for these beans; in fact, the flavor will be fresher with this quick-cooked marinara made right in the pan. The acidity of the tomatoes will turn the string beans a sort of olive green. That doesn’t bother me at all—it reminds me of the way my grandmother cooked vegetables. Maybe they weren’t the brightest-green vegetables I’ve ever seen, but they certainly were the most delicious.

The traditional zuppa di pesce that you most likely encountered in Italian-American restaurants was based on garlic and tomato sauce, which was simmered along with assorted fish to make a savory dish. Sometimes the sauce was used to dress pasta, and the shellfish and fin fish would be enjoyed as a second course. This version is more in a brodetto style, lighter and clearer than the traditional version, with saffron as a flavoring ingredient. This kind of preparation can be found with slight variations along the entire coast of Italy from Liguria to the Adriatic coast to the heel, Puglia, and the island of Sicily. I have given you the recipe with fish fillets, although traditionally zuppa di pesce is made with slices of whole fish with bones and skin intact. But it is tricky to eat that way, even though the flavor is more complex.

It is a good idea to roll up and fry one of these fish balls before forming the whole batch. You can check the seasoning and add a little salt and pepper if you like before you cook them all. Cooking a little sample is a good thing to keep in mind when you’re making meatballs, too.

Wild-caught striped bass are the best for this recipe, but you can use fillets from any firm-fleshed ocean fish. Whatever fish you choose, the shape and thickness of the fillets is important. Each fillet should be about 1 1/2 inches thick and narrow enough so you can fit all six fillets in the pan with the sauce. If your pan isn’t large enough to hold all the fillets, cook the sauce first, then divide between two skillets of fillets. As with any dish, you can take this recipe in a lot of different directions. I sometimes prepare it using scallions in place of the onions, or black olives and capers in place of the green olives. Rather than add the olives and capers to the tomatoes, I like to cook them along with the onions for a minute or two to bring out their flavor. This “layering”of flavors is one of the little tricks we professional chefs use to get the most out of our ingredients.

I prefer olives with the pits—I think they have better flavor. Adding the olives directly to the oil after the garlic has browned will give you a more pronounced flavor of olives. If you like a milder flavor, add them to the sauce once the tomatoes have come to a boil. Baccalà has a tendency to curl up as it cooks. If yours does that, press on the fillets lightly with a metal spatula so they caramelize evenly. In order to keep the sauce light—as its name says—spoon in a little hot water from time to time as the sauce simmers.

Texture is a very important part of the gustatory pleasures of tripe. Tripe should be soft and yet resilient; you do not want it mushy. In this recipe, as I do when making many long-simmered sauces, I keep a pot of hot water near the tripe as it simmers. From time to time, I check the tripe, ladling in water if the sauce has cooked down and some of the tripe isn’t covered. At the end of cooking, there should be enough sauce so the tripe is nice and juicy but not watery.