Cheese

Dress your fresh strangozzi with this meaty, multitextured sauce—ground veal and chopped chicken livers cooked in a tomato base—for a hearty dish that will delight carnivores and pasta-lovers simultaneously. This is also a great sauce to incorporate into risotto. If you are not enthusiastic about the flavor of chicken liver, use only 1/2 pound, for a subtle flavor boost. But if you love the organic richness of livers, as I do, use a whole pound. This recipe makes a big batch of sauce, so you can use half and freeze half (it will keep well for 4 to 6 weeks).

This is a fresh and extremely flavorful preparation for strangozzi. The dressing has two components, tender cooked Swiss chard and an uncooked pesto of fresh basil and mint leaves and toasted almonds. (Other leafy greens, such as spinach, chicory, and arugula, could be used, and walnuts could replace the almonds, but the recipe here is true to the region.) It is best to prepare the greens and pesto shortly before you cook and serve the pasta, but if you follow the recipe steps, the dish is actually quite quick-cooking and simple. It is only the multitude of tastes and textures that are complex and tantalizing!

Like pasta itself, tomato sauces for pasta come in endless varieties. This one gets a depth of flavor from vegetable pestata and good bacon. The recipe makes enough sauce to dress two batches of pasta. Use half on fresh strangozzi, and pack up half for a future meal: it will keep in the freezer for 4 to 6 weeks and will be wonderful on any pasta you choose.

Here’s my version of our family’s favorite Umbrian road food: the torta al testo (or crescia) baked and served at Il Panaro, the outdoor eatery and truck stop near Gubbio (see this chapter’s introduction). The unique wood-oven-baked character of the Il Panaro torta is hard to replicate in the home kitchen, yet I’ve found that baking the breads in a cast-iron skillet gives very nice results. The dough is easy to mix and shape, so even if you’re a bread-baking novice you’ll have success with this one.

I love this dish, and you will, too—and your guests will be impressed. Set the table for a special eating experience, including a few scissors to pass around and a bowl for the parchment paper. Then present guests with closed, tempting packets: when they cut open the parchment, the sight and bursting aroma of savory-stuffed quail will fill them with anticipation, and they will dive right in. As an accompaniment, I would serve a bowl of hot polenta, farro, or wild rice, or a bowl of beans and black kale. Serve family-style, putting the bowl in the middle of the table, so everyone can spoon some onto the plate next to the quail.

Most of you have made meatloaf on occasion; you may even have a family-favorite recipe that you make frequently. Well, I want to introduce you to the Marchegiano style of meatloaf, with ricotta added to the mix, which renders the loaf tender and tasty—not heavy and dense, as they so often are. Another textural delight in this loaf are cubes of mozzarella, oozing and moist when the meatloaf is served hot and fresh from the oven. However, if you plan on having extra meatloaf to enjoy the next day—I think it is almost better that way—omit the mozzarella, because the cubes harden and won’t melt again. In this case, use an additional cup of ricotta in the loaf mix.

Crêpes, or scrippelle, are a big part of the menu in Le Marche, as a garnish in soups, filled with grated cheese, or used like pasta, as they are in this delicious casserole. In fact, if you are reluctant to make your own fresh pasta, this might be a first step. The scrippelle are easy to make and can be fried in advance, then sliced into ribbons for the recipe.

Tortelli are filled pasta squares, like ravioli. These are the largest of the pasta shapes in this chapter—you need only eight to ten pieces per serving—and the simplest to make, too, since they need no twisting. Here I give you two savory tortelli fillings that I discovered in Emilia-Romagna. The techniques for making tortelli are the same for this cabbage-and-pancetta filling and for the chard-ricotta filling that follows (page 153). (You can also make tortelli with the fillings I give you for anolini, tortellini, and cappellacci.) As I often say, homemade pasta is so good that you need nothing more than butter (or extravirgin olive oil) and cheese to dress it. So, in the master recipe, I dress the cabbage-filled tortelli with just melted butter (as is customary in the north of Italy)—I would do the same with the chard-filled tortelli. You could also dress them with a light tomato sauce, such as the Romagnola (page 140) or my Marinara Sauce (page 384). And if you are making a meat roast or roast chicken for the same meal, the juices and drippings from the roasting pan would make a splendid dressing for your tortelli.

This traditional casserole of veal scaloppine is simple and simply delicious, with a multitude of harmonious flavors and textures. The scaloppine are quickly fried, then layered in the pan to bake, moistened with an intense prosciutto-Marsala sauce, and topped by a delicate gratinato of Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano. And though veal is customary, scaloppine of chicken breast, turkey breast, or even pork would be excellent prepared this way. The first step, of frying the meat, can be done in advance, but I recommend that you assemble and bake the casserole just before serving: reheating will toughen the gratinato and accentuate the saltiness of the prosciutto.

This uncooked dressing, enriched with ricotta and butter, is delicious and quite different from the herb-based pestos I’ve found in other regions. You can blend it together in a bowl while the pasta water is heating up and have a distinctive pasta appetizer or main course in minutes. To retain its vibrant, fresh flavors, it is important not to cook the pesto, just toss it with the tagliatelle and serve.

Tortellini are probably the best-known and most popular of the many forms of filled pasta for which Emilia-Romagna is famous. Although they are made all over the region, tortellini are the special pride of Bologna, where, according to food historians, they were first created centuries ago. When I visited the great artisanal pasta-makers Renata Venturi and her daughters, Daniela and Monica, whom I mentioned in the introduction to this chapter, they showed me their techniques of hand-rolling and shaping tortellini in their marvelous pasta shop, Le Sfogline. Though tortellini are sold (usually frozen) in most markets in the United States, the recipe here will give you a big batch of fresh homemade tortellini, far superior to anything you can buy at the store. And you will see how easy and enjoyable the shaping is, especially the final twist that gives each piece its distinctive shape. Although meat-filled tortellini might come to mind first, I love this ricotta version, dressed with a simple tomato sauce, such as my Marinara Sauce (page 384). A more complex sauce, such as Ragù alla Bolognese (page 382) or mushroom guazzetto, would also be delicious, as would a simple dressing of sage and butter. (If you want to try other pasta shapes than tortellini, you can make tortelli or tortellacci with this ricotta-fontina filling.)

When I say the word “pesto” to people in America (or anywhere outside Italy), I know they are thinking of pesto alla Genovese, with its lush green color and intense perfume of fresh basil leaves. Indeed, though there are countless fresh sauces that are also termed “pesto” in Italian cuisine (see box, page 105), it seems that pasta with basil-and-pine-nut pesto is so well known that it might as well be the national Italian dish! Traditionally, long, flat trenette or shorter twisted trofie is the pasta used here, though even spaghetti is great with the pesto. For the most authentic flavor, use a sweet, small-leaved Genovese basil for the pesto—perhaps you can find it at a farmers’ market in summer, or grow it yourself. Large basil will be delicious, too. Of course, use the best extra-virgin olive oil available, in the pesto and on the pasta, preferably pressed from the marvelous taggiasca olives of Liguria.

A platter of baked stuffed vegetables is one of the everyday delights of the Genovese table, and I always sample a seasonal assortment when I visit the city. The array is never exactly the same, and this recipe is a guideline that you can (and should) vary according to your tastes and what’s available. I give you one delicious and easy bread stuffing, along with procedures for preparing and baking a few of the most typical vegetables used in Genova—bell peppers, mushrooms, sweet onions, tomatoes, and zucchini. Many others can be substituted and will be delicious with this stuffing, including beets, fennel, squash, and even carrots. Of course, you don’t have to have every one of the vegetables I recommend. Stuff just a couple of different veggies, or just pick one, such as stuffed and baked big mushrooms, if that’s what you like. Like other Ligurian vegetable dishes, ripieni all’Antica can be served piping hot, warm, or at room temperature; presented on individual plates, or family-style on large platters. They make a great appetizer, a side dish for grilled steak, lamb, or chicken, or a vegetarian main course. And when I have a few leftover vegetables, I heat them up in the morning and top them with a fried or poached egg, for a special breakfast.

The marvelous melting qualities of authentic fontina are particularly evident in baked pasta dishes such as this delicious pasticcio. When it is in the oven with penne (or other tubular or concave pastas, like ziti, rigatoni, or shells), the molten cheese oozes around each piece of pasta and is caught in all of its nooks and crannies. The cheese on top of the pasticcio melts and then becomes crusty and caramelized.

Veal chops are always something of an extravagance, though worth it when well prepared. In this exciting recipe from Valle d’Aosta, thick rib chops are stuffed with the region’s prized fontina, browned, and braised on the stovetop, then baked. The result is quite grand, because the succulent meat and pan sauce are enriched with driblets and hidden pockets of sweet melted fontina. And if you want to go superluxe for a special occasion, shave fresh truffle on top of each chop just before serving. To return to earth, however, let me point out that you can make costolette alla fontina in more modest versions that are absolutely delicious and much easier on the pocketbook. For instance, you can form veal scallopine into envelopes to enclose the fontina, or stuff a veal loin chop, a thick pork chop, or a plump chicken breast in place of the veal rib chop. You may have to adjust the amount of cheese you put inside, and adjust the cooking time at each step to avoid overcooking. But if your meat, wine, olive oil, tomato paste, and broth are of fine quality, and—most important—if you use real fontina (and Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano), you will produce a splendid dish.

In many mountain regions of Italy, chestnuts have been cultivated and gathered as staple foods for generations. In Valle d’Aosta (with thousands of cows), it is customary to cook chestnuts and rice together in milk, a simple, nourishing dish that lends itself to many variations. Traditionally, riso e castagne was made as a light supper in the evening, especially for children before bedtime. The dish has a natural sweetness that kids love, and if you emphasize that quality with sugar, honey, or a swirl of jam, you have a lovely dessert or sweet brunch dish. It is just as easy, though, to take riso e castagne in a savory direction, as I do in this recipe. With a finish of fontina and grana, it becomes a rich-tasting chestnut-flavored riso or risotto, wonderful as a primo or as a main course. And if the same dish is cooked with more milk—or less rice—it becomes a comforting, creamy, and warming zuppa, which I am sure is much appreciated in the Alpine winter.

This might seem like an unusual dish, a pasticciata (a layered casserole) of bread and cheese that’s baked, cut into portions, and served in a bowl of hot broth. Yet the tastes and eating pleasure of seuppa ou piat will be completely familiar and welcome to anyone who loves the gratinéed crouton of French onion soup or enjoys a crispy grilled-cheese sandwich with a bowl of rich chicken broth alongside. This is a good dish for company, because you can have both the broth and the pasticciata hot and ready to be put together when your guests come. (Chicken stock is my preference, but a savory vegetable stock or a meaty beef broth is just as good.)

What I love about this recipe is its simplicity. With a chunk of fontina or other fine cheese and some tasty vegetables—here I use slices of roasted peppers and green olives—you have the basis for a zesty Alpine salad any time of the year. Freshly roasted peppers are best, but you can use jarred peppers if you like. The creamy mustard dressing can be whipped up in seconds, but leave some time for the dressed salad to sit and the flavors to blend. (The cream gives the dressing a velvety texture, but you can replace it with a tablespoon of olive oil and a tablespoon or two of skimmed milk.)

Gorgonzola and Taleggio are my favorites of Lombardy’s many fine cheeses. Both are made from rich cow’s milk, exclusively from animals that have grazed in the pastures of particular locales. The finest Taleggio, in my opinion, comes from small producers in the highlands north of Bergamo, where the cheese originated centuries ago. Creamy and soft when ripe, Taleggio is a superb table cheese, all by itself or with a piece of good bread or fruit (and at room temperature, of course). On my recent trips to Lombardy, though, I’ve appreciated it as a component of cooked dishes. As I’ve suggested in the recipes, fold it into any of the riso dishes in this chapter—after the heat is off—and you will love how it melts and lends its luxurious texture and complex flavors to the rice. Because it browns beautifully in a hot oven, Taleggio is a great cheese for a gratinato, as you will find when you try this very special recipe. Thick veal chops are browned, then braised in a sageinfused tomato sauce and finished in the oven under thin slivers of Taleggio and a sprinkle of grana. The golden crown of cheese over the tender meat is a perfect final touch. To be sure, this is an extravagant dish and demands the best ingredients. Meaty veal chops are always expensive, and these should be cut extra thick (either rib or, my preference, loin chops are suitable). And your Taleggio must come from a reliable cheesemonger who has allowed the cheese to ripen properly before it’s cut and sold—too young and you won’t get the full flavor. The cheese should be soft under the rind but not runny all the way through. In fact, you’ll need to chill ripe Taleggio in order to slice it thinly for the recipe. But the effort and expense are well worth it, as you’ll find when you taste your costolette al formaggio.

This traditional risotto is a showcase for two of the great foods of Lombardy: the rice itself and Gorgonzola, the region’s superb blue cheese. Here the cheese is more than a garnish (which I recommend in other riso recipes); it is the very essence of the dish. You blend in a generous half-pound of Gorgonzola just before serving, when the al dente risotto comes off the heat, to bring out the full flavor of the cheese, unaltered by cooking. This deserves a top-quality, genuine imported Gorgonzola, preferably not too piquant. I like sweet and creamy Gorgonzola Dolce, aged no more than 3 months. In Lombardy, chunks of fresh ripe pear are sometimes incorporated into risotto alla Gorgonzola. When pears are in season, it is easy to give the basic risotto this wonderful embellishment. Peel and cut ripe pears into about 2 cups of small cubes. When the rice is almost done, gently stir in the pears, and cook for just a minute. Turn off the heat, and finish the risotto with Gorgonzola and grana, as detailed below.