Fruit

The onion can be substituted with one leek or two large shallots (this is true for the variations, too) and the spinach with other leafy greens, such as chard, kale, watercress, or sorrel. For a soup with brighter color, the leafy greens are added in the last five minutes of cooking, just so they are given a chance to wilt.

Duck breast, long considered a delicacy in French cuisine, is exceptionally moist and tender when properly prepared. The breast is small enough to cook in a pan (rather than having to roast the whole bird) and it needs no flour or added fat to develop a crisp golden crust. You do need to follow a few special rules, however, as duck has quite a bit of fat under its skin. Duck should always be cooked sufficiently to render out its fat, some of which is poured off and reserved for another use (such as roasting potatoes or sautéing vegetables). To render fat, the duck is cooked first on its skin side, then turned over to finish cooking through. The desired degree of doneness depends on whom you ask; some cooks insist that the breast meat should always remain pink, while others would have you cook it further (the USDA, for example, recommends cooking to 170°F). In the recipe that follows, the time given should result in a medium-rare (pinkish) interior after the duck has rested, so cook it longer if you prefer it more well done. The rich taste of duck makes it a fine partner for fruit, especially orange (think of the French standby, duck à l’orange). Here it is served with a sweet-and-sour sauce called gastrique, made by caramelizing sugar and then deglazing the pan with an acidic liquid, such as vinegar or citrus juice (this recipe uses both). This dish would pair particularly well with mashed or pureed turnips or sautéed bitter greens.

The name belies the simplicity of this flavor enhancer, readily made by blending herbs and other aromatics with softened butter. It is most classically affiliated with steaks and chops, but compound butter can be used almost any time in place of plain butter. Try some on poached, steamed, or grilled fish or vegetables; feel free to experiment with different herbs and other flavorings. Compound butters will keep for up to 1 week in the refrigerator or up to 2 months in the freezer (thaw in the refrigerator before using); slip the parchment-wrapped cylinders into resealable plastic bags before storing. Or, chill the logs until firm, then slice off rounds and freeze individual portions. If you plan to serve the butter soon after it’s made, simply scrape it into ramekins or other small serving dishes instead of forming it into a log (cover with plastic and refrigerate until needed).

Pilafs originated in the Middle East, where they are usually made with rice. The rice is toasted in butter or oil along with aromatic vegetables such as onion, then the mixture is cooked with stock (or water) in the oven. The grain is ready for the liquid to be added when it gives off a nutty, toasted aroma. The desired texture of a pilaf is fluffy, with no grains sticking to each other. Pilafs can contain a variety of other ingredients, such as dried fruit, nuts, and pasta such as orzo. Here is a basic recipe, followed by two variations.

Not all sauté recipes start with dredging the meat in flour. Instead, this recipe demonstrates how meat can achieve a nice sear simply by relying on the high heat of the pan (and a little science, called the Maillard reactions; see page 126). To encourage browning, you must make sure the meat is dry, as moisture will hinder the process. First, pat the meat dry with paper towels and wait to salt it until just before cooking (since salt will draw the juices to the surface). The sautéed meat will leave golden-brown bits behind, so you’ll want to deglaze the pan and incorporate them into a pan sauce. This one is made with a fragrant combination of brandy, shallots, apples, and raisins (all good partners for pork) and finished with cream, which thickens as it simmers, giving body to the sauce.

Try this technique with any mild, flaky white fish, including sole, tilapia, or turbot, all of which work nicely with the sauce. Brown butter—or buerre noisette, created when butter is cooked until the milk solids turn golden brown—is one of those à la minute (cooked to order) sauces that should be a part of any home cook’s repertoire, since it can be altered in countless ways. Nuts are classically paired with browned butter, as their flavors are complementary; citrus juice or wine balances the richness; and other ingredients, such as herbs, provide complexity. Since this recipe is so quick to prepare, you need to have your mise en place at the ready before you heat the pan. Toast and chop the hazelnuts, suprême the citrus, and put salt, pepper, and flour in separate dishes (for seasoning and dredging the fish) set near the stove.

I created this pizza, an upgraded take on “Hawaiian pizza,” typically made with Canadian bacon and canned pineapple, for my son, Ben. When he was growing up, that’s the pizza he always ordered and I cringed at the combination every time. When I opened up my own pizzeria, I wanted to come up with a pizza using the same or similar ingredients that would please both Ben and me. We start with fresh pineapple and slice it paperthin so it caramelizes in the oven, and we use speck in place of Canadian bacon. But what I think really makes this pizza is the addition of jalapeño peppers. Their heat cuts through the sweetness of the pineapple.

Currants and pine nuts are a classic combination in Sicilian cuisine, so even though I may never see carrots such as these on a restaurant menu in Sicily, the combination feels Sicilian to me. You could make many different vegetables, such as broccoli or cauliflower, using this recipe. It is an ideal vegetable preparation to serve at parties because it can be made ahead of time, and everyone loves it. This dish looks especially pretty made with a mix of carrots in different shapes and colors—such as white, yellow, red, or purple—and carrots that are round, like a golf ball.

For this dish, we braise squid in red wine and orange rind. The rind gives the sauce a slight bitterness that can seem overwhelming until you eat it on crostini with a dab of mayonnaise, and then it all comes together. We serve it as a condiment for pasta in the Osteria, which would be a perfect use for leftovers because when dressing pasta, a little goes a long way. We use calamarata, a short ring-shaped pasta that mimics the shape of squid rings, or paccheri, a long, tubular pasta that flattens when it cooks.

I order octopus every time I go to Babbo and have done so since long before I partnered with Mario and Joe, so when Mozza came about I knew I wanted to include an octopus dish on the Osteria menu. Most people’s experience of octopus is eating it raw at sushi bars, and we all know how chewy it can be, but, like Mario’s version at Babbo that I love so much, ours is tender and not at all rubbery. That tenderness doesn’t come without considerable effort, but as much effort as it is, the finished dish is certainly worth it. It’s our most popular non-mozzarella antipasto. In Italy people do all kinds of things to tenderize fresh octopus. They pound it with a meat pounder, they hit it with hammers, they throw it against rocks. Matt’s solution is to start with frozen octopus; freezing helps break down the octopus’s flesh the same way that pounding it does. He then sears the octopus, poaches it in olive oil, marinates it, and, lastly, chars it in a wood-fired grill. The wine cork in the recipe is something we do on Mario’s orders. He claims that in Italy they say the wine cork tenderizes the octopus. I think it must be an old wives’ tale, but it doesn’t hurt to throw it in there, so we do. Note: This recipe requires a huge sacrifice of oil. You can keep the oil and reuse it once to make the octopus again within a week.

Italians famously eat a lot of beans, so including shell beans on our menu was an obvious choice. Shell beans are so delicious and can be prepared in such a variety of ways, and yet you don’t normally see them at conventional grocery stores. Looking for shell beans is a good excuse to visit your local farmers’ market, which is where we find them in Los Angeles in the late summer and early fall. We use a mix of four types of shell beans—borlotti beans, cannellini beans, lima beans, and flageolet—because we like the range of sizes, colors, and flavors of the various beans. Properly cooking beans is about 90 percent of the battle, which is why we cook each type of bean separately; to spare yourself the effort, use fewer varieties of beans. If you don’t have access to shell beans, or when shell beans are not in season, you could make this using dried beans. Refer to Ceci (page 96) for instructions. The recipe for the bouquet is for each pot of beans. You will need to make the same number as types of beans you are making.

Caponata, a traditional Sicilian eggplant preparation, is the perfect example of agrodolce, the Italian word for combining sweet and sour flavors in savory dishes. When people order this antipasto at the Pizzeria, we suggest they also get an order of Fett’Unta (page 65) to absorb the delicious flavors of the caponata. Caponata is an ideal dish to serve at a party, because you can prepare it in advance and serve it at room temperature.

My two favorite salads in the world are a properly prepared Caesar salad and an iceberg wedge with blue cheese dressing, neither of which have any place in an Italian restaurant. Just as I sneaked the Caesar salad in under the guise of a tricolore (see page 98), here I disguised the iceberg wedge sufficiently so that my customers don’t realize that I’m serving a wedge salad, an American classic, in a Pizzeria. I don’t know where I got the idea to throw the dates on the salad, but the contrast of their sweetness with the pungent Gorgonzola really makes this.

Even though eating a slab of baby back ribs isn’t an Italian tradition, I felt that, Italians being the pork lovers they are, we could justify serving ribs as long as they had an Italian sensibility. After much prodding by me and experimenting by him, Matt came up with these tender, juicy, peppery, fennely, vinegary, Italianish baby back ribs. It was his brilliant idea to saw the racks of ribs in half down the middle— something you’ll have to ask a butcher to do for you. The riblets feel a bit closer to the single rib you might be served among the unusual cuts on a mixed grill plate in Umbria or Tuscany instead of something you’d get in a roadside barbecue joint. Italian? Not exactly. Delicious? Very. The coleslaw recipe makes twice as much dressing as you’ll need to dress the slaw for four servings, but because it is an emulsified dressing made with one egg yolk, you can’t make less.

This mountain of arugula is layered with thinly sliced mushrooms and long thin shards of Piave, a hard cheese similar to but sweeter than Parmigiano—and much less expensive. It’s important to use fresh, firm mushrooms; look for those with closed caps and no blemishes. If you can’t find Piave, Parmigiano is a fine substitute.

The red, green, and white tricolore salad, traditionally composed of radicchio, frisée, and endive, is just one of the many ways that Italians celebrate their flag. I like tricolore salads, but this version, which is tossed in an anchovy-enhanced dressing with lots of grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, was my way of sneaking the flavors of a Caesar salad onto the Pizzeria menu without calling it a Caesar. In the rare instance that a Caesar salad is done well, it is one of my favorite salads, but Caesar salad is such a cliché on Italian-American menus—and it’s not even Italian; it was invented in Tijuana—I could never have put it on my menu as such.

When you’ve worked with food as long as I have, and have come up with as many desserts as I have, you get to a certain point where many of the dishes you construct are compilations of things you’ve done previously. When we opened Mozza, I had done a cream-filled date tart that I really loved, so I urged Dahlia to rearrange some of its components, and to her credit she came up with this sophisticated rendition of pumpkin pie. We serve it with walnut cookies that are a twist on a Greek walnut cookie that I included in a previous book. Pumpkin purée is one of the few canned items that I endorse, the reason being that it is totally pure—there are no weird ingredients in it, just pumpkin. Also, from my experience, roasting a pumpkin and puréeing it myself doesn’t yield more delicious results than canned. You will need an 11-inch flan ring (a straight-sided bottomless tart ring) to make this.

Think of this dessert as sweet, crunchy rice pudding–filled ravioli. It is composed of many elements, none of which are difficult to make and all of which, apart from the frying, can be prepared in advance. But you need to plan ahead and make the various elements in stages. To make the sauce, look for quality, plump raisins, such as flame raisins, a moist and flavorful variety that we find at our local farmers’ markets. We use cannoli dough in this recipe, which gets really crisp and blistered after it’s fried. We run the dough through a pasta sheeter, but if you don’t have one, you can roll the dough thin using a rolling pin on a lightly dusted surface. You will need a 3-inch square cookie cutter (preferably fluted) to make these.

This is an Italian interpretation of a grilled lamb entrée you might see at a Lebanese restaurant. Scottadito means “burnt fingers” in Italian, and it refers to the fact that the lamb bones are meant to be picked up with your fingers while they’re searingly hot. We serve the lamb with a tabbouleh-like salad made of fregola sarda, a bread crumb–size pasta shape from Sardinia so small it acts like a grain in the kitchen, and Greek yogurt.