Italian

My mom used to make this yummy, Parmesan-and-broccoli-flecked pasta a lot when we were growing up because it was a relatively painless way to get us kids to eat broccoli. And when I went to college, she packed up the recipe for me as part of a set of family recipes that she thought would be easy enough for me to make in my new apartment. This was one of the first dishes I had the courage to cook on my own, and it became a staple of my college years. But leaving home isn't so easy. I remember the first time I set out to cook this in my new life. It wasn't until I was at the grocery store with recipe in hand that I realized that I couldn't actually read it: I never could read my mom's handwriting—I'm forever calling her up to ask her to translate her scrawl. But there I was, first time out, walking up to strangers in the supermarket asking, "Can you read this?" These days, my friends have a habit of calling me from the supermarket at five p.m., looking for a suggestion for dinner. This is the recipe I give them because it's completely easy and if it's five o'clock and you're still in the supermarket, you can still be eating by six fifteen (assuming you don't live too far away). Note that the broccoli cooks long enough to turn soft and buttery. When you work it all together with your wooden spoon—broccoli, olive oil, and cheese—the broccoli turns into the sauce. Use a colander with fairly small holes (or a mesh strainer) so that the broccoli buds don't escape into the sink when you drain the pasta.

Peaches are abundant in the area around Piacenza. My mom's mother, Nonna Stella, used to use them in this traditional dish during the months when the peaches were at their best. In fact, my mom likes to tell me how, when she was pregnant, she ate them nonstop. The peaches should be very ripe and juicy. If they're not so juicy, you may need to chop an extra peach half for the filling, to add a little moisture. Make amaretti crumbs by pulsing the cookies in a food processor, or putting them in a resealable plastic bag, and crushing them with a rolling pin or a meat mallet.

My dad brought the family to the States when I was five. Before we moved, he came over to New York on his own to look for a house. One night, as he tells the story, he was playing poker with some guys in one of the players' apartments in Manhattan. They're all sitting around the table, and one fellow says, "What are you doing here?" "I've got a wife and children in Italy and I'm looking for a place to live." "I've got a nice piece of property in New Jersey," the fellow says. "I've been promoted, and I have to move and sell the property." "Well, I'll go over and take a look at it," says my dad. It was a nice piece of land. He bought it and built a house on it, and I grew up there. The name of the fellow who sold it to him was Joe Namath. We were lucky in that many of our friends from Italy also moved into our neighborhood in New Jersey. We all lived within about five miles of one another. My mom's friend Gabriella lived across the street. She's a fabulous cook. I tasted this lemony rosemary-and-sage chicken stew at her house one night and promptly asked her to show me how to make it. It's now a staple in my own kitchen. Serve it with rice to soak up the sauce, or with roasted potatoes.

Again, easy peasy. Not only can this be made while the pasta is cooking, you have plenty of time to make a lovely salad and assemble a cheese plate for after dinner. Parmesan, lemon, and basil are a threesome made in heaven. The cheesy lemon basil flavors are also very kid friendly.

Pizza is a universal crowd-pleaser, and part of its charm is the doughy bed it rests on, along with gooey, wonderful cheese. You'll get no argument from me. I love pizza. But not all pizzas are created equally. This pizza is loaded with cheese, mushrooms, sausage, and peperoncini, but not calories. So for watching your weight, this pizza is a delicious solution. It's meaty, yet amazingly low in fat. You'll love the crust's wholesome taste.

Fresh herbs abound here—as does niacin, an energizing B vitamin: One serving of salmon dishes up nearly 70 percent of your daily niacin needs.

The sauce known as all'arrabbiata—or "in the angry style"—is made with hot red pepper flakes (and sometimes fresh chilies for an extra kick). I like to use the briny elements of olives and capers and skip the fresh chilies, adding depth to the spiciness rather than just more heat. Perfect with penne or rigatoni.

Why settle for plain old ham and cheese when you can easily make this panini? You will have some roasted radicchio left over, which is fine since it makes a nice addition to a green salad and will keep a few days in the refrigerator.

Not all cream sauces are super-rich. This pasta gets its creamy sauce from a combination of part-skim ricotta and pasta water, which come together to make a really easy, lighter cream sauce. Don’t leave out the lemon zest; it brightens the flavor and adds a wonderful lemony aroma as well.

Kale goes by another name, one much more dashing, especially in Italian. Cavolo Nero, black cabbage, may not evoke superhero status, but it's close. Kale does seem invincible and it's known to make the eater more so, too. It's also called dinosaur kale (also called lacinato), maybe because its leaves look like the back of a lizard. Those thin knobby leaves squeak. Do not confuse cavolo, accent on the first syllable, with cavallo, accent on the second, or you'll be ordering black horse, and in certain parts of the world will find it. Hearty and good for the spirit. I like soaked and cooked cannellini better than canned ones.

You can serve polenta in its most traditional form, but you can also use it to create an easy variation on gnocchi. I first learned this technique from my friend, Milan-born and-raised cooking teacher Nadia Frigieri. Making both the polenta and the sauce in a slow cooker means there’s little hands-on effort required to make this stunning dish. Adding a green salad makes this a meal.

When we cook with friends at Silvia Baracchi's school, Cooking Under the Tuscan Sun, we often whip up this very simple dessert. I never thought of chocolate as seasonal, but in Tuscany, it's considered more appropriate for fall and winter. Seldom do you find it on a summer menu, perhaps because we have a plethora of plums, melons, and white peaches for hot weather dolce. With this, Silvia suggests a full-bodied sweet red wine with enough alcohol to "clean your mouth." Her choices are a passito from Pantelleria or an aged Recioto. I'm partial to the passito from Arnaldo Capraia.

Weighing down a chicken with bricks seems so ancient. Did the advisors to Roman emperors hatch the slogan, "A chicken under every brick," to go along with the bread and circus motif? Brick morphed so naturally from the good earth—add water and high heat (ecco fatto, terracotta) and civilization started to build in a big way. Roman bricks were longer and narrower than present-day bricks, but any brick will do. If you have a few handy, you should wash them, let them air-dry, and wrap them in a few sheets of aluminum foil. Otherwise, you can use a heavy pan of some sort. I've used an 8-quart Le Creuset, covering the bottom with aluminum foil.

A spiedo is a kitchen spit over an open fire that is most often used for cooking whole animals, particularly chicken. Spiedino—;literally "little spit"—refers to food cooked on skewers, which is how we like to prepare pork loin. Grilled briefly over a smoky fire, the meat takes on an addictive char that counterbalances the sweet, mellow soffritto of pine nuts, garlic, and currants.

This hearty, veggie-filled rigatoni recipe requires a little bit of work, but makes plenty for a group and is full of flavor.

For an easy dinner party, round this out with orzo on the side, a green salad, and a light Italian red wine like Dolcetto. Finish with sorbet and chopped dark chocolate.