Simmer

One whiff of this hearty, fragrant sauce bubbling on your stove and you'll think you've just parachuted into the Apennines right in front of a trattoria, in sheep country. The mountains of central Italy—notably in the Abruzzo and Molise regions—have always been populated by shepherds. Consequently, lamb is the basic meat, and the cheeses are made from sheep's milk. Shoulder would be our cut of choice, but really any lamb stew meat will do. Even though the recipe calls for boneless meat, if you have some lamb on the bone, throw it in. The bones will add flavor and will be easy to remove once the sauce is cooked. Lamb is fatty, so the sauce will benefit from overnight chilling and subsequent degreasing. But if you can't bear to throw away that yummy lamb fat, roast some potatoes Italian style—cut up in small pieces with lots of rosemary—and use the lamb fat instead of olive oil.

This simple but delicious sauce is named for the town of Amatrice, in the mountainous northeastern panhandle of Lazio, near Abruzzo and the Marche. It seems incredible for such an easy, humble sauce, but this is one of the dishes self-appointed purists (read fanatics) will fight over to the death, or at least death by boredom. You have to use spaghetti or bucatini, they say—nor is it that simple, since there are spaghetti-only and bucatini-only factions. No cheese but pecorino is permitted. And woe betide you if you use pancetta in place of guanciale. There is, however, some room for individual expression. Some cooks use onion and chile, some not. A few swear by a splash of white wine "to cut the fat." The pecorino should ideally be that made in Amatrice or Abruzzo or Sicily, milder and fattier than pecorino romano, but pecorino romano is certainly what you'll find used in Rome. (Pecorino romano is a kind of cheese from a large designated area that includes the entire Lazio and Sardegna regions and the province of Grosseto in Tuscany, not just Rome; it is widely available in the United States.) Parmigiano is not used in amatriciana; it's made with cow's milk, and Rome and its mountainous hinterland is traditionally a land of sheep, after all. The shepherds of yesteryear, who spent months in the hills with their flocks, would make this flavorful dish for themselves. You can imagine that they were not worried about someone calling the food police if they grabbed a piece of pancetta instead of guanciale or one kind of sheep cheese instead of another. But they would never have used smoked bacon, which is not part of their tradition. Like many rustic, simple sauces that have found immortality on trattoria menus throughout Italy (and beyond), this dish is only as good as its ingredients. Take the tomatoes. The rugged mountainous area of northeastern Lazio where Amatrice is located was never great tomato-growing territory, or at least not for most of the year, so it was normal to use canned or jarred tomatoes. But the most delicious amatriciana I've ever tasted was made by Oretta (of course) at her house about halfway between Rome and Amatrice with tomatoes from her garden. After her ecstatic guests had practically licked their plates, she announced with an air of regret that this delicious dish was "not really l'amatriciana" because she had used fresh tomatoes. She later revised the statement to the more reasonable pronouncement that if you have a basketful of gorgeous San Marzano tomatoes from your garden, of course you should peel and seed them and make the sauce, and handed me a jar of her home-canned tomatoes to use in the winter. Whether you use fresh or canned, the result is a red sauce studded with bits of lightly fried pork, but you don't want it too red. The pasta and guanciale should be coated with a thin mantle of sauce, not hidden. Don't let the gloppy, oversauced trattoria version be your model. The cheese is sharp and salty, but, again, don't use too much. Many people consider onion a deviation from the sacred original, but hardly anyone thinks it doesn't taste good. In fact, it is delicious. If you use it, add a small chopped onion to the guanciale fat and sauté until transparent, then add the tomato.

Use the best, freshest eggs you can find, and don't even think of making this dish with eggs from stressed-out battery chickens. You can taste the difference. If you can find real guanciale, so much the better. Once the eggs have been added to the pasta, do not let the pan touch the heat directly or you will wind up with scrambled eggs.

EFFORT: NOT MUCH
PREP TIME: 15 MINUTES
COOK TIME: 6 HOURS
KEEPS ON WARM: 1 HOUR The ingredient list is designed for use in a medium (4- to 5 1/2-quart) slow cooker. See the cook's notes for ingredient lists for small (2- to 3 1/2-quart) and large (6- to 8-quart) models.

The addition of an anise-flavored liqueur turns this hot cocoa into the liquid version of chocolate-covered licorice.

Matcha, made by grinding up dried green tea leaves to a powdery consistency, has a distinct earthy, sweet flavor that carries through in this creamy panna cotta. And since you consume the leaf directly in this dessert, instead of brewing it, the antioxidant levels are even higher.

No offense to traditional risotto lovers, but risotto made with amaranth is so much easier because it doesn't require 20 minutes of near-constant stirring. Just leave your amaranth to bubble slowly on the back of the stove, while you sauté our mushrooms for the buttery topping. Dried porcini mushrooms bump up the woodsy flavor of the topping, while their soaking liquid becomes a deep, mushroomy stock in which to cook the amaranth. This risotto is ideal for Meatless Mondays and will please all your vegan friends to boot, but if you are craving some cheese, 1/4 to 1/3 cup of Parmesan stirred into the risotto at the end will give it that extra boost that only Parmesan can deliver. Or keep it vegan and pass a bowl of grated cheese separately for those who want it.

The spicy and perfectly tart shrub (flavored drinking vinegar) gives this pitcher-friendly cocktail a refreshing quality.

Spoon gingery, slow-cooked beef and vegetables over wide rice noodles for a warming, soul-satisfying dinner.

Adding cream thins lemon curd and makes it extra spoonable—delicious in more than just this dish.

A mix of fragrant spices, garlic, and fresh ginger turn this stewed chicken into the most perfectly warming dinner for an October Sunday.

Rompope is served chilled, often over ice, but it can be served warm, which is how I prefer it when cold weather sets in. Either way, it's rich, velvety, fragrant, and certainly full of cheer.

Hard liquor, served hot. In times past, hot toddies were often prescribed as a head-cold remedy. Today, liquor as medication is generally frowned upon because of its dehydrating effects. However, if you're one of those people who can't tolerate over-the-counter pharmaceuticals, this beverage may offer the relief you need—just drink an extra glass of water to replenish your body.

In every good restaurant kitchen, there's a combination of thrift and innovation. We always have a dish like this chowder on the menu because when we portion fish for main courses, there are inevitably some pieces of our excellent, sushi-quality fish too small to serve on their own. And that is another great reason to buy your fish whole: not only can you save the bones and head for fish stock, but you'll be generating two meals from one shopping trip. We call it chowder to give the idea of a hearty, chunky fish soup (sea bass, shrimp, mussels) with a lot of texture from vegetables. Our version shows off kabocha squash and ají dulce peppers. These are specific varieties of squash and pepper that I search for at the Greenmarket for their deep flavor and beautiful aroma. If you can't find these, use another variety of squash and mild pepper.

A refreshing homemade soda that can quench a thirst as well as feed a chocolate fix. Refrigerate the leftover chocolate syrup for another use.

You can have almost no money and still have enough to live off this stuff for weeks, months, years. Eat enough and you'll start to look for ways to make it different: add a little more sauce, a little less sauce, cook the noodles less, cook them more, add more water, less water, add an egg, scramble the egg, etc. Me, I've become a freak when it comes to my instant ramen. Don't fuck wit it, don't fuck wit me, let me do my thing. This is how I do my own thing.

It might look like a lot when the greens are raw, but add them all anyway. They'll quickly wilt down to a silky texture.

When cooked with aromatics and rich tomato sauce, lentils are anything but bland.