Dairy

This is an Italian classic, with a twist. Traditionally made with Marsala, I like to vary it by using Viognier, or even prosecco, as we do here. The wine adds a dimension to the custard and marries well with the sweet berries. If you don’t have a kitchen torch, skip the step where you sprinkle on the sugar and simply serve the custard spooned over the berries. If you use the broiler instead of a torch, the custard will get too soft.

This is not the chocolate ice cream you used to eat as a kid, though no kid would say no to a big, fat dish of it. This has more depth thanks to brown sugar, and the tang of crème fraîche takes the edge off the sweetness. For an elegant richness, use the very best semisweet chocolate you can find. Please, no chocolate chips. Not only would the flavor suffer, but the emulsifiers added to chocolate chips would ruin the texture of the dessert.

Cacio Faenum is a fragrant sheep’s milk cheese that, like little baby Jesus, is lovingly laid on a bed of hay to rest. Unlike the newborn king, however, the cheese is actually wrapped in dried grass and buried in a hay-filled barrel for a little more than a month. You’ll recognize this incredible cheese by its charming hay wrapper and a grassy, barn-y fragrance that marries nicely with the earthiness of apricots and almonds.

I think of Robiola as what I always want Brie to be. It’s even more lush than that French imposter, with a smooth, flowing core that’s like pure silk. The very best specimens must be tasted in Italy, where they don’t let unpasteurized milk stand between any man and his cheese. We get very fine imports here, however, and depending on the producer, your Robiola may be fashioned from either goat, sheep, or cow’s milk, or a combination. Because Robiola is so rich, I like to pair it with something tart and jammy, like this easy gooseberry compote. To serve, make sure the compote has cooled completely and the Robiola is at room temperature to allow it to be its runny, best self.

There are fruit people, and there are chocolate people. Even chocolate people will lick their plates clean when presented with a refreshing, lemony panna cotta strewn with wine-steeped peaches. Panna cotta makes a nice spring and summertime dessert because it’s not so rich that you leave the table feeling stuffed, and the lemon verbena adds a welcome, herbaceous tang. This dish is perfect for company because the panna cotta must be made ahead, and the peaches “cook” while coming to room temperature.

One of my favorite cheeses from Piedmont, you can tell La Tur is special from the moment you see the little round presented in its ruffled paper wrapper. This is a very well-balanced cheese, young, made from goat, sheep, and cow’s milk. Cutting through the soft rind you find a slightly tangy, nearly mousselike interior, and each round feeds four perfectly. Roasted tomato “petals” make a colorful and velvety pairing, richly drizzled with the best balsamic you can afford. If you can buy 100-year-old balsamic, do it—celebrate your good fortune. If, like me, you can only afford something a bit younger, don’t let it hold you back from ending an evening with this dish. Serve with a plain baguette or slices of peasant bread; nut-or herb-flavored breads will compete with the flavors.

Go to your farmers’ market and get the freshest and best goat cheese you can find—the tang and texture are critical with a dish this straightforward. Chestnut honey has an earthiness, almost a gaminess, really, that adds depth and structure to the dish.

Baby beets shine like tender jewels in this salad, their color offset by creamy, handmade ricotta. Roasting the beets heightens the sweetness, concentrating their flavor, while the orange adds a touch of brightness. I use baby arugula and watercress here, though you can choose any other baby greens that have a little bite to them.

Cannelloni, you say? Isn’t that the type of old-school Italian food you order at places with red-and-white checked tablecloths and candles stuck into Chianti bottles? Well, yes, and no. For this dish, you first braise some succulent pork cheeks until they shred when you look at them. Then you create a rich, savory broth that you use to moisten the pork, and accent it with sweet cicely, an herb with an aniselike flavor. Roll it in silken squares of pasta and coat with Parmigiano-Reggiano and cream. Sometimes old school is worth resurrecting.

You know that friend who calls himself a “foodie,” who isn’t impressed with anything you make, because, yawn, he’s made it before and then took it molecular? Make him eat his words with ravioli stuffed with tender chard, rich ricotta, and—this is the magic part—a duck egg that stays intact until the ravioli is cut, releasing a luscious river of yolk. These are big and rich; two per person is plenty.

This may be one of the simplest recipes in this entire book, but it’s absolutely addictive, with the marinated pecorino offering a tangy creaminess that coats the silky noodles just so. Don’t be tempted to jazz this up with anything extra—it’s the comforting straightforwardness of the dish that makes it so good. Trying to make it fancy will ruin the magic.

Trofie, also called trofiette, is a Ligurian pasta made with just flour and water—no eggs. The squiggly little twists make a particularly good vehicle for pesto because it nestles into all those little crevices. The Nettle Pesto is lighter and less herbaceous than traditional basil pesto, making this an easy first course.

The classic French preparation for snails—bathed in puddles of garlic butter—formed the inspiration for this pasta. Although the agnolotti would be spectacular on their own, wearing only the barest of sauces, adding briny snails and a bright, intensely flavored compound butter makes the dish that much more special. You can find good-quality canned snails at European markets and some high-end grocery stores. Wait to make your sauce until the pasta is cooking; if you heat the butter too far ahead of time, the herbs might brown.

Farrotto is a risotto-style dish made with farro instead of rice, but the similarity stops there. Farrotto has a greater depth and nuttiness than regular risotto—not better or worse, just different. It also produces a more textured final dish. It’s out of this world paired with spring’s first earthy morels and peas, which add sweetness and dots of color. For tips on cleaning morels, see page 34. Farro is emmer wheat, often erroneously called “spelt” in English; you can find true farro in fancy grocery stores or specialty Italian markets.

Roasting the squash before incorporating it into the rice concentrates the flavor and adds great depth to this vibrant fall risotto. I use butternut here, but any firm-fleshed fall squash or pumpkin would work; kabocha would make an especially nice substitute. Cold-pressed hazelnut oil has a distinctive, nutty flavor, less pungent than some other nut oils, such as walnut. You can find some good brands from France, and one or two nice local oils that hail from the nut orchards of the Northwest. Although it’s expensive, it’s a great oil to use on salads and with certain desserts.

I’ve met a lot of people who are so intimidated by the process it takes to extract the luscious heart from a large thistle that they never go any further with the artichoke than steaming it and melting some butter. There’s nothing wrong with that approach—it’s good eating, for sure—but it does keep you from enjoying a host of dishes that allow this regal vegetable to play a more suave, starring role. The single most common mistake people make when they prep an artichoke is to use a dull knife. Not only home cooks make that mistake, either. I’ve seen professionals prep artichokes so they look like they went through the dryer. Take a steel to your knife and follow the directions carefully, and prepping the hearts should be a breeze, giving you the star ingredient for a lovely spring risotto. This risotto takes a bit more liquid than some others in the book because the artichokes absorb some as they cook. Make sure the butter you add to finish the dish is cold, so it incorporates and adds richness and body.

This risotto is a special springtime treat, not only because of the delicate flavor of the ramps but also because the porcini is allowed to really be the star. I treat it like a fine truffle, shaving it with a mandoline in a shower over each bowl. The heat of the risotto softens the mushrooms ever so slightly, and the shavings add texture and a wonderful fragrance.

Otherwise known as green garlic and garlic shoots, spring garlic captures the essence of garlic without any harshness or bite. Unlike mature garlic, spring garlic should be featured in recipes that won’t overwhelm the delicate flavor, such as this risotto. Make sure you wash the spring garlic thoroughly to remove any sand.