Dairy

Sicilians are passionate about both food and opera, so it is no surprise that one of the island’s most celebrated dishes is pasta alla Norma. What better way to honor the composer Vincenzo Bellini, a native son of Catania (on Sicily’s eastern coast), than to name a delicious pasta for Norma, one of the great operatic masterworks of all time? I love both the opera and the dish, and, I can assure you, aside from their name, they’re quite different. Those of you familiar with opera know that the title role of Norma is so difficult that only the greatest sopranos ever sing it. On the other hand, this recipe is simple and easily made.

Escarole is a great vegetable that is used much in Neapolitan cuisine, in soups and salads or just braised with garlic and oil. In this recipe, blanched escarole leaves are wrapped around a savory stuffing (as cabbage often is) and baked. Serve these rolls as an elegant antipasto, or as a vegetarian main course.

The 200-year-old L’Europeo, one of the best restaurants in Naples, serves the most delicious rendition of a favorite Neapolitan dish—pasta, patate, e provola. You can probably translate this yourself: pasta, potatoes, and provola cheese—the kind of cheese we usually call “provolone.” All varieties of provola (there are many) are pulled-curd cheeses, like mozzarella, but after they are formed into pear shapes they are hung to dry, and sometimes smoked. Neapolitans have strong opinions on what makes a good dish of pasta, patate, e provola. As prepared by my Neapolitan friend Bruno di Rosa’s mother, Rita, it is considered a soup and eaten with a spoon. At L’Europeo it was definitely a pasta, dense and cheesy and full of flavor—with all the comforts of baked macaroni and cheese.

Of all the wonderful ricotta torte and crostate I have made, this one is so moreunpretentious and delightful that I urge you to put it in your dessert repertoire. The cake is moist and sweet, with a hint of orange and the crunch of toasted almond slices in each bite. In Rome, this cake is made with sheep’s-milk ricotta, giving it an additional layer of complexity, and if you do have access, by all means use sheep’s-milk ricotta and follow the same procedures. Top with a dollop of whipped cream, or, to make it fresher, fold into the whipped cream an equal amount of sour cream. Top all with berries in season, or some halved ripe figs when available.

Here is a classic pasta, as delicious as it is simple and fast. But because it is such a minimalist creation, every ingredient is of utmost importance. Use a very good authentic pecorino, one produced in Lazio (the Italian region where Rome is located), Tuscany, or Sardinia. The cheese is at its best when aged only 8 to 10 months. And grind the black peppercorns just before making the dish—I like to crush the black pepper by hand in a mortar, into coarse bits that explode with flavor as I enjoy the pasta.

Tortelli are ravioli by another name—a square, filled pasta. And though they vary greatly, like all pastas, tortelli often are filled with fresh ricotta and spinach or other greens, herbs, or vegetables. In Maremma, where carnivorous appetites rule, such a meatless approach is not typical. As you’ll find in this set of recipes, tortelli maremmani have meat inside and outside—and lots of it. Fried chopped chicken livers plump up the tortelli, in addition to ricotta and spinach. Once cooked, the tortelli are dressed with a typical ragù maremmano, made with three chopped meats slowly cooked in tomatoes. My friend Alma likes best boar, chicken, and pork, but here I call for veal, pork, and sausage, because I find that combination comes close to the complexity of the boar. Of course, if you can get boar, by all means use it. This is a great pasta, and worth all the stirring and stuffing. However, it is not necessary to make everything here and put the ingredients together in just one way. The components of tortelli maremmani give many options for delicious meals (and convenient advance preparation). For instance, it’s fine to make the filling and the pasta for the tortelli and leave the ragù for another day. You can sauce your tortelli simply with sage butter, pages 49–50, or just shower them with Tuscan olive oil and Pecorino Toscano. On the other hand, go right to the ragù recipe—skip the tortelli—and make this marvelous sauce to dress any pasta, fresh or dry, or polenta or gnocchi. Indeed, the ragù recipe makes enough for two or more meals. Toss a couple of cups of ragù with spaghetti for a fabulous (and fast) supper one night, and freeze the rest. It will still be perfect whenever you do get a chance to roll and fill those plump tortelli maremmani.

When you have a white truffle, enjoy it just as they do in Alba, with golden tajarin. If fresh truffle is unavailable, packaged truffle butter makes a nice dressing for the pasta too (see Sources, page 340). Should you have no truffle at all, tajarin with only butter and Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano will be simply luxurious, if not quite ethereal.

These cheese-encrusted rounds of cooked chard, similar to frico, are from Carnia, a district of quaint cities and towns scattered along the Carnic Alps. The milk from the cows grazing on its high-altitude pastures makes some of the best Montasio in all of Friuli. I like to serve these unusual and irresistible cakes as a highlight of lunch or brunch, topped with a poached egg, or in between slices of country bread, as a delectable vegetarian “cheeseburger.” They’re a marvelous accompaniment to grilled meats, or, cut into small wedges, a great party nibble.

Cheesecake is one of my favorite desserts, and I love the kind that is a little bit sour. This one is made with a little crema and a hazelnut crust. I like to serve it with quince, a natural pairing with cheese. I also gave it a little heat from arbol chiles to showcase the wonderful combination of sweet, sour, and spicy that is popular in modern Mexico.

My dear friend Roberto Santibañez and I have had a lot of fun over the years since we began working together at Rosa Mexicano, cooking together and creating dishes inspired by our land that we so often miss living in New York. This is one of the desserts that we still talk about. The name for this dish comes from mixiote, which is the thin film from the maguey leaf that was traditionally used to wrap savory dishes that are baked or steamed, releasing the leaf’s wonderful herbal sweetness. Nowadays, most mixiotes actually use parchment paper or banana leaves, alluding to the way the dish is prepared rather than the original definition. In this version, the pears are cooked slowly in a sweet piloncillo syrup inside these little pouches, and are then served warm over a slightly salty cheese filling. When the pouch is cut open, it releases the amazing syrup fragrance that balances perfectly with the flaky, buttery cheese pastry.

The light granular texture of this tasty ice cream is what makes me love it so much. Swirl in some cajeta toward the end of the churning or top it with some berries if you want to add a complementary flavor, though I think it is perfect just as it is.

The small bicycle town of Pomuch in Campeche has some of the best bakeries in Mexico. One of the oldest, La Huachita, still uses a brick oven and has been around for 120 years. They were kind enough to let me spend hours as a spectator, and this is a recipe I adapted from one of their creations. These small sugary breads are slightly flaky, buttery, and filled with a rich cream cheese mixture.

Requesón is a slightly grainy, lightly salted cheese somewhere between ricotta and pot cheese. Lime zest complements the cheese filling hidden inside the golden, flaky crust. These are a really nice option for a brunch menu, and if you make the dough ahead of time, you can make these in a jiffy!

The name gorditas is used in an endearing manner to describe many small but “fatty” (referring to the thickness) foods. Everyone loves gorditas, and there are many different kinds. I tried these in Nuevo Leon and love them because they are fried, which makes them (or me) double gordita. I also like them because of the salty cheese and piloncillo that make them go wonderfully with a hot chocolate (page 25) or champurrado (page 22).

Sometimes the best gift in the world on Christmas is to serve your children one of their favorite dishes. And, boy oh boy, does Spenser love cheesy potatoes! Warning: this recipe is extremely addictive. We use smoked paprika to add a hearty smokiness that’s like nothing else out there.

These meatballs always inspire a lot of “ooh, yuuumm”s and funny comments from friends and family alike: “Something is different about these meatballs!” They love them, but they’ve never had anything quite like them, either—unless they’re familiar with this old Southern recipe. (We’ve kept ours a secret till now, but we’ll share it with you here.)

GINA It wouldn’t be my party without some piggies, and these are the good old-fashioned finger-food kind. Our twist is to serve them with barbecue sauce. Watch your guests come runnin’—they’ll be shamelessly stuffin’ ’em down!