Vegan

The most well-known pea soups are made with green split peas and flavored with pork, but this lively vegetarian version features split peas and Indian seasonings. Though the end result tastes remarkably different from the classic, the method for making any split pea soup is virtually the same; you start by building a flavor base with sautéed aromatics, then add peas and water and cook until the peas fall apart. For split pea soup with ham, you would add a ham hock to the pot along with the peas, but for this version, spices are fried at the end and stirred into the soup to finish—a technique borrowed from many classic Indian dishes.

For true vegetarian soups, stews, and other dishes (such as risotto), vegetable stock is a flavorful alternative to water and meat-based stocks. Some recipes call for the vegetables in the mirepoix to be added to the simmering liquid without first cooking; others call for them to be sweated first, without browning. In this recipe, the vegetables are lightly browned to give the stock intense flavor. The resulting richness and complexity are particularly important when there is no base of flavor provided by chicken, beef, or fish. You can vary the flavor by increasing the amount of garlic, replacing the carrots with parsnips, or changing some of the fresh herbs for others. Or add any of the following: dried mushrooms, such as porcini or shiitake (no more than two or three, since they can be overpowering), a few corncobs, some chopped tomato (seeded, if desired), or thinly sliced leeks. If the stock will be used to make Italian dishes, add a rind of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese once the water has been added. If making a vegetarian dish with other vegetables, use the scraps to flavor the stock, such as beet greens for beet risotto. But be careful to avoid adding anything that is less than fresh or that has too strong a flavor, such as most cruciferous vegetables (including broccoli, cauliflower, and cabbage).

Pici are long, hand-rolled strands from the Montalcino area of Tuscany, not far from my house. Also called umbrichella, this pasta is the most typical shape in my region, so naturally I wanted to serve it at Mozza. Although it is not a regular item on the menu, we often use pici in place of the gnocchi in the Gnocchi with Duck Ragù (page 187).

Orecchiette, meaning “little ears,” are small dome- shaped disks. They are the most common shape in Puglia. They’re used in many regional dishes there, including the one that inspired our Orecchiette with Fennel Sausage and Swiss Chard (page 180). Although this shape doesn’t look as intricate as some of the others, it is one of the most difficult to shape, which is probably why so few restaurants make their own. Following our instructions, you can’t fail. To get the desired texture on the surface of the pasta, we suggest you use a plastic cutting board. At the Osteria, we use a wooden cutting board that has been deliberately scored with a knife, which gives the orecchiette the texture we want.

We use these fiery, sweet roasted chiles on the White Anchovy, Tomato, and Spicy Fresno Chiles pizza (page 139) and the Spicy Salami, Mozzarella, and Fresno Chiles pizza (below). If you are making a variety of pizzas, it might be convenient to include these two to use up all the peppers.

Marinara—pizza with tomato sauce and oregano and without cheese—is one of the two kinds of pizzas approved by the Assocciazione Verace Pizza Napoletana. At the tiny bakery in Panicale, they always have a sheet pan of tomato pizza and one of zucchini pizza on display, both sold at room temperature. It’s so simple, but made with good sauce and fragrant oregano, it’s delicious. Prepare and stretch the dough and preheat the oven according to the instructions given in “Nancy’s Scuola di Pizza” (page 128). Brush the rim of the dough with olive oil and season the entire surface with salt. Ladle or spoon the sauce onto the center of the dough and use the back of the ladle or spoon in a circular motion to spread the sauce out over the surface of the dough, leaving a 1-inch rim without any sauce. Scatter the pieces of cheese over the pizza, slide it into the oven, and bake until the cheese is melted and the crust is golden brown and crispy, 8 to 12 minutes. Remove the pizza from the oven and cut it into quarters. Drizzle the pizza with the finishing-quality olive oil, scatter the tiny basil leaves or snip the large leaves over the top, and serve.

The first thing I need to tell you about this pizza dough recipe is that it is not an exact replica of the pizza dough we use at Pizzeria Mozza. What I can promise you, however, is that when you make this dough at home, your pizza will be just as delicious as the one we serve. Dough reacts differently in different ovens, and when our restaurant dough is baked in a home oven the result is a thick and doughy crust—not at all like those that come out of our extremely hot wood-fired ovens. My challenge for this book was to come up with a recipe for a pizza dough that, when baked in a home oven, resulted in a crust that was as close to what we get out of our pizza ovens as possible. And with the invaluable help and relentless persistence of Jon Davis, a breadbaker whom I’ve worked with since I hired him at La Brea Bakery more than twenty years ago, we came up with this recipe. The dough is made with a sponge, which means that half of the flour is fermented, or aged, for a period of time—in this case, for an hour and a half—before being mixed with the remaining ingredients. This is a breadbakers’ trick to coax the subtle flavor characteristics from the flour in a relatively short period of time. I have also made this dough without the sponge, adding all of the flour and water at once and saving that hour and a half of fermenting time. If you are pressed for time, you can do this, and though you might lose a bit of flavor, it will still be better than most pizzas I’ve been served in the States. You will need a scale to make this recipe. Bread making, or in this case pizza dough making, is so specific, there is no way around it. When making the dough, it’s important to time it so that it’s ready when you want to make your pizzas.

Cavolo nero, a variety of kale, means “black cabbage” in Italian and is a staple of Tuscan cooking. It has a distinct, earthy flavor that I love and that complements many of our heartier preparations.

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.

Using vinegar and chiles in an aggressive way is something Matt picked up from Mario, and I love it. I have a thing for acidic food in general—vinegar in particular. If you were to follow me around the kitchen at Mozza as I tasted various sauces and condiments, what you would hear most often is, “It needs salt” or “It needs acid.” This needs neither. Broccolini, also called baby broccoli, looks similar to broccoli but with longer, thinner stalks and smaller florets. It’s a hybrid between conventional broccoli and Chinese broccoli and is slightly sweeter than broccoli. We also make this dish with Romanesco, an Italian heirloom variety of cauliflower.

Ribollita is a classic Tuscan soup traditionally made with leftover minestrone thickened with chunks of stale bread. This version is something quite different, and it’s based entirely on the one they serve at Ristorante Da Delfina, a wonderful ristorante in a tiny village nestled in the hills just outside Florence. It was described to me as a fried soup, so the first time I ate it, I didn’t know what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that they’d turned the soup into something wholly unsouplike that I could eat with a knife and fork. The way we make it, after cooking off the liquid, we thicken the soup with bread, we chill it, and then shape it into patties that we pan-fry in olive oil. We serve it as an antipasto but it could be a side dish or, served with a green salad, a light meal. I often recommend it to vegetarians, and to make it vegan, just omit the Parmigiano rind. One of our inveterate recipe testers, Tracey Harada, tested this recipe about eight times to get the flavors perfect. Cavolo nero, a variety of kale, is one of the defining ingredients of any ribollita. You can find it at specialty food stores and health-food stores, but if you can’t find it, use another variety of kale.

When you read “Long-cooked Broccoli,” note that this is distinctly different from the soggy, overcooked broccoli that you might remember from the school cafeteria. Here, the broccoli is cooked deliberately long and slow—almost poached—in olive oil with a lot of onion and garlic. Cooking it this way makes the broccoli tender, buttery, and flavorful. It’s one of my all-time favorite vegetable preparations. We use it to top the Long-cooked Broccoli, Caciocavallo, and Peperoncino pizza (page 146), and we also offer it as an antipasto at the Pizzeria.

I don’t like many beet preparations because they tend to be too sweet for me, but the horseradish that these are tossed with fixes that. In the Pizzeria, we present these beets as an antipasto, which is how we give them to you here. In the Osteria, we serve the same beets as part of a composed plate, spooned over burrata, topped with toasted walnuts that have been tossed in walnut oil, fried paper-thin sliced beets, and mâche. We used to dress the beets with freshly grated horseradish, but I found the spiciness to be really inconsistent. Then I was introduced to a jarred, prepared horseradish, Atomic—it really has that horseradish burn. I love it. It’s one of the rare instances where fresh isn’t best.

Cipolline are small, flat, sweet Italian onions. This agrodolce preparation of cipolline is one of the staples of my Umbrian tavola, and the most popular contorno at the Osteria, I think in part because onions go with so many main dishes, and they are also easy to share. My dad orders them every time he comes to the restaurant. I think he could make a meal of nothing but these onions followed by a perfectly pulled espresso. In the summer when I can find them, I use long, red torpedo onions in place of cipolline.

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.

These days it’s almost old-fashioned to cook your own beans, even for restaurants. While canned are surprisingly good (I included many canned beans in recipes in my last book, A Twist of the Wrist), homemade beans are so much better. The key to good dried beans is to cook them long enough so that they become creamy. Many restaurants undercook their beans, and frankly I would rather have canned beans than beans that are dry and chalky.

We use this seasoning mix for the Pan-roasted Pork Chops with Olives and Sambuca-braised Fennel (page 241) and the Pork Ribs with Fennel and Apple Cider Vinegar (facing page). It will keep for months, so if you like pork with fennel, make double (or more) of this recipe.

We put so much dried oregano in this vinaigrette that you might think it’s a typo. It’s not. Because the oregano is so prominent, look for sources such as Penzeys that specialize in dried herbs.

I’ve been making a version of this condiment for as long as I can remember. Currants and pine nuts are a traditional Sicilian combination, so anytime I use this I feel like I am making a Sicilian dish.