Italian

This is a take on pasta e fagiole, the classic Tuscan bean and pasta soup, but without the pasta. Where the homemade version is thickened as a result of the beans being cooked for hours, I created a rich, creamy base by puréeing some of the beans. I felt the soup needed a fresh vegetable, so I used Napa cabbage because it cooks very quickly and adds a slightly sweet flavor. Finally, I added fresh herbs and then topped the soup with prosciutto, olive oil, and Parmigiano-Reggiano.

A rich filling is studded with walnuts and imbued with citrusy notes of orange, then packaged between a crust and a lattice top, both made from the cookie-like pastry dough known as pasta frolla in Italy.

Salumi refers to all dry-cured Italian-style meats and sausages. Great chefs such as Tom Colicchio, Lidia Bastianich, Mario Batali, and Paul Bertolli are introducing them to a new generation of Americans, who may not realize what an incredible variety is available. Thanks to these chefs for bringing this artisan tradition back to the culinary fore. What an inspiration! One summer when I traveled in Italy, I was served salumi with peaches just about everywhere I went and although it was a combination I had never before tried, it made perfect and delicious sense and stayed with me after I returned to Chicago.

Bucatini is a long, hollow pasta, like very thick spaghetti with a hole running through it. Because it is so hearty, its sauce needs rich ingredients to stand up to it. The basil, sun-dried tomatoes, and black olive tapenade form a flavor-packed, thick sauce that begs to coat the thick, toothsome strands of bucatini. With only five ingredients in this entire recipe, you won't be surprised at how effortless and speedy it is. Cooking the pasta is the only thing that takes any time.

This is one of our family's cherished holiday dishes, a creamy, garlicky appetizer spread, full of flavor, that we enjoy on everything—good crusty bread, grilled bread, carckers, crostini, bread sticks, carrot sticks, celery sticks, even spaghetti, gnocchi, risotto. It is good as an hors d'oeuvre, an appetizer, or a main course, and great for parties. It brings lots of complex flavor to anything that it is spread on. Baccalà mantecato is important to our family, though, for more than its addictive savor. It is a link to Istria, my native region, where the imminent arrival of Christmas at our house (and everyone else's) was scented by the unmistakable vapors of dried codfish, cooking for hours and hours. These were not fish from our local waters, but a delicacy from Northern Europe, a fish that was brought in to be bartered and exchanged for olive oil and good Mediterranean wine, carefully selected and dearly bought. But despite the expense, or the time and labor in its preparation, baccalà mantecato was the mark of a good cook in Istria, and many would stop in at a particular house not just for the hoilday greetings but also for a taste of the baccalà. In our household, my father was the chief cook of baccalà mantecato—it was his one culinary triumph—and that makes it all the more special to me. Though he has been gone for many years, his masterful touch with this dish remains with me and inspires me; every time I make it now, I remember him, with every bite.

Traditionally, this dish was made with short-grain rice, Arborio or Carnaroli, that’s been boiled in salted water with a little oil, and that’s how I make it here. If you have leftover risotto, you can use that instead of starting from scratch with the rice. On the other hand, if you have leftover Bolognese sauce, you can skip making the ragù; all you need do is to add some peas and a little water to the sauce and simmer until the peas are tender and the sauce is dense, not runny. The recipe for the ragù below makes about 3 cups, approximately twice as much as you’ll need. Either freeze the remaining ragù for your next batch of rice balls, or enjoy the sauce over pasta like rigatoni or penne.

How good does a pot of this soup on the stove on a chilly, soccer-packed fall Saturday sound?

Pasta and pork—what's not to love? Spaghetti alla carbonara traditionally calls for guanciale (cured pork jowl), but bacon is weeknight-friendly and every bit as satisfying. Raw egg is typically mixed into the hot pasta, but a poached egg on top feels more substantial while still providing the requisite creaminess.

Frying sage leaves is easy and provides a real wow factor. The sage and chestnuts make an ideal foil for these pillowy gnocchi.

These toasts are topped with a light sprinkling of minced garlic, olive oil, and sharp Pecorino Romano before being baked. Garlicky and salty, they are a great accompaniment to cocktails.

As a child, food editor Gina Marie Miraglia Eriquez regularly enjoyed the hearty stew that her grandmother Mary Pacella prepared as a way to use up surplus produce from the garden. Today, however, Miraglia Eriquez makes it as often as she can during the summer and early fall, using garden produce at its peak.

Even those who prefer their tuna raw or quickly seared will be won over by this preparation. Marinated in a savory anchovy-lemon dressing, the tuna steaks are cooked until their centers are pale pink but still quite juicy. The bold flavors continue in the colorful sauce of briefly cooked tomatoes, black olives, capers, celery, and basil.

Gnudi is a type of gnocchi, made from ricotta cheese and a little bit of flour. The result is a dumpling that's as light and fluffy as a cloud. The dumpling dough needs to chill overnight, so begin this one day ahead.

A rustic, comforting dinner dish.

Talk about flower power. As every gardener knows, late summer brings a bumper crop of zucchini and, better yet, of zucchini blossoms—known in Italy as fiori di zucca. Here, the tender yellow-orange blooms are filled with ricotta, Parmigiano-Reggiano, and mint, then batter-fried. Served alongside an easy tomato sauce (dip as you like), they make an irresistible first course or, with the addition of a green salad, a satisfying main.

Risotto, the ultimate comfort food of Milan, heads south to sunny Rome in a revamp of a classic. Pecorino Romano—in place of the more traditional Parmigiano-Reggiano—brings a delectably briny tang, while crunchy radishes in a light vinaigrette provide a counterpoint to the creamy Arborio rice.

This bravura sandwich stimulates all the senses. Grilling eggplant instead of frying it adds lightness and smoky complexity.