Cheese

The peaches and cherries in this quickly prepared dessert are a great source of vitamins A and C. Vanilla beans are available in many large supermarkets and most specialty food shops; you can substitute one teaspoon pure vanilla extract for the one-half bean used below (don’t use imitation vanilla, which contains artificial ingredients).

Goat cheese may be a good option for those who can’t tolerate cow’s milk, and when combined with tart raspberries on toasted bread, it’s hard for anyone to resist.

When you start with store-bought dough, homemade pizza comes together in minutes. Look for whole-wheat dough in the refrigerator section of health-food stores and some supermarkets. Frozen artichoke hearts are a convenient alternative to steaming fresh artichokes, and they retain much of their nutrients; if you use canned, rinse them well and let them drain. (Jarred, marinated artichokes are not recommended for this recipe.)

A snappy almond-and-herb pesto is a fresh departure from the classic pine-nut-and-basil version. For an even more nutritious variation, add three tablespoons ground flaxseed to the pesto.

Here in New Mexico, we have a number of really good goat-cheese producers who sell their products at farmer’s markets. Spanish settlers originally introduced goats to the region along with the craft of making goat cheese. For Mexican recipes, I prefer the flavor of goat cheese to American cheeses made with cow’s milk. Mexican cooking is rich and needs the counterpoint of a sharp cheese for balance and lively taste. Cow’s milk cheeses are usually too creamy and flat in flavor, absorb too much of the flavor accents from a dish, and lack a certain acidity and sharpness common to Mexican cheeses. New Mexico also has great apples, as good as those I grew up with in New England. At an elevation of 7,000 feet, Santa Fe experiences very cold nights in the fall that “crisp” the apples and set the juices. The sweet juiciness of apples is a perfect match to the mild creaminess, tang, and richness of goat cheese. You can use the goat cheese as a garnish, if you prefer, rather than mixing it into the filling.

Buttermilk and low-fat yogurt replace some of the mayonnaise and the usual sour cream for a lighter, more refreshing dressing. This is a favorite for spooning over chilled wedges of iceberg lettuce, and it also goes well with hearty Belgian endive spears. The dressing can be made with any crumbly blue cheese, ranging from mild Danish blue to the more pungent Roquefort, Stilton, or Gorgonzola.

You might imagine that this dish was a modern creation, but its history dates back to the 1700s, when dried macaroni—one of the few staples that could survive a year aboard ship—was brought from Italy to Britain and to the American colonies. Because there was a lack of other (Italian) ingredients, the imported pasta would often be served with a simple white sauce—milk thickened with flour and butter; sometimes it was baked in a casserole with bread crumbs on top. The earliest recorded recipe was in the Boston Cooking School Cookbook in 1896. This recipe uses a classic variation of béchamel known as sauce Mornay, made by whisking the flour into sautéed onions to form the roux (which is what thickens the sauce; see page 62 for more); then milk is added and the sauce is left to simmer until thick and creamy. Grated cheese is the final touch. Béchamel—and any sauce where flour is used as a thickener—is typically cooked for about 30 minutes to give the starch molecules in the flour enough time to absorb as much liquid as possible (so the flour goes from being granular to smooth, or gelatinized). In this recipe, the sauce is simmered for a much shorter time, since it will continue to cook in the oven after being stirred into the dish. For variety, top some or all of the servings with thin slices of roasted tomato and fresh thyme.

Tortellini are traditionally served in broth; Basic Chicken Stock (page 41) or Basic Brown Stock (page 50) would be equally delicious.

The squash filling in the recipe can be replaced with virtually any precooked vegetables you like. You can also omit the goat cheese and sprinkle on more grated Parmigiano-Reggiano or Asiago, or use Gruyère cheese instead.

This three-egg omelet is strewn with fresh herbs for the simplest of fillings. See the variations below for other ideas. If you’d like an omelet with a bit more heft, add another egg.

Polenta, a staple of northern Italian cooking, is coarsely ground cornmeal that is cooked very slowly simmering on top of the stove (or in the oven). Because of the frequent stirring and the incremental additions of liquid, the cooking method is very similar to that used for risotto. Polenta can be served right away, as in the recipe that follows, or allowed to set and then cut into shapes and fried, grilled, or baked. Water is the most common liquid, but for a richer, more flavorful polenta, replace all or some of the water with chicken stock (page 41) or vegetable stock (page 56), reducing salt accordingly, if necessary. Or substitute half the water with milk (preferably whole) for a creamier consistency. This recipe calls for two pots of water for cooking the polenta: one for the initial stage when the cornmeal is whisked into hot water, and the other for additional water that is added gradually while the polenta cooks to reach the desired thickness. Having less water in the first stage helps the cornmeal reach a creamier consistency earlier in the cooking process, so lumps are less likely to form. Once you become familiar with the method and know the thickness you prefer, you won’t need to measure the amount in the second pot. The longer the polenta cooks, the creamier and tastier it becomes (up to a point). The recommended cooking time here is merely the minimum required for the polenta to cook through. If you choose to cook it longer, simply add small amounts of hot liquid as necessary to achieve the desired consistency, making sure that you let the polenta absorb all of the liquid before adding more. The method described below can be used to cook other types of meal, including semolina (coarsely ground durum wheat often used to make puddings) and grits (coarsely ground corn, also known as hominy grits).

A well-made risotto is a culinary feat: Small, firm grains of rice float, suspended, in a rich, creamy sauce. When scooped onto a shallow plate or bowl, a good risotto should have a loose consistency, rippling into a tight pool on the plate (it should not be soupy, though). As the Italians say, it should be all’onda, or “with waves.” Unfortunately, many cooks (home and professional) make risottos that are too thick and dense, more like a porridge. But preparing a successful risotto is actually easier to accomplish than you may imagine. It involves no special tricks, just careful observation (and a lot of stirring). Allow your senses—taste, sight, and smell—to tell you when it’s done. The type of rice is critical to the dish. Italian rices, such as Arborio, Carnaroli, or Vialone Nano, are the best choices for the particular composition of starches risotto requires. During cooking, the soft starch on the outside of the grains readily dissolves to form the intrinsic creaminess, while the inside remains al dente (firm “to the tooth”), giving risotto its characteristic bite. Because its flavor will permeate the dish, the liquid used is equally important, and what you use should depend on what else is being added to the dish. Many recipes call for chicken or vegetable stock, but these can prove too overpowering, especially when the dish will be simply seasoned with a handful each of cheese and herbs, as in the recipe below. So instead, the recipe calls for a simple broth that incorporates some of the ingredients used to flavor the dish, here celery, carrot, onion, garlic, and parsley. Likewise, for a shrimp risotto, you could make a broth by combining the shells with lemons and herbs; or you could sauté or roast the bones from meat, fish, or chicken and then simmer them with water. If you prefer deeper flavor, follow this same principle to enrich existing chicken or vegetable stocks for using in risotto. Making a risotto is a lot like making a stew: First, you begin by sautéing an aromatic ingredient. Then the rice is stirred in and toasted to give it a nutty flavor (similar to pilafs) and to loosen some of its starch. After a few minutes, as you stir, the grains eventually become slightly more translucent and they begin making a clicking noise, which tells you it’s time to add the wine. When the wine is stirred in, the rice releases a bit more starch, turning the liquid slightly milky, a sign of the creaminess to come. Once the wine is absorbed, the stock is added, ladleful by ladleful. Near-constant stirring will ensure that the rice cooks evenly and helps release the soft starch on the outside of the grains. The final step of any great risotto is to “mount” it with butter, which gives the risotto richness, and to add in any final seasonings (in this case, grated cheese, freshly ground pepper, and parsley), just before serving. In certain regions of northern Italy, the risotto method is used to cook other grains, such as farro, an ancient grain with a nutty taste. It will produce a dish with a slightly chewier and less creamy texture (see the farro variation with wild mushroom see below).

Vegetable stock is an essential ingredient in many vegetarian soups, but it also provides incomparable flavor to many well-loved vegetable (but not necessarily meat-free) soups such as this one. Minestrone has become so familiar in the American kitchen that it might be easy to forget its Italian origins. But the name—minestre is the word for soup, while the suffix (-one) indicates bigness—hints at its universal appeal as a simple pantry-based soup that is also hearty and substantial. The foundation of flavor, called a soffritto, is a common element in soup-making: a trio of celery, carrots, and onion is sautéed first, then stock and more vegetables are added and slowly simmered to coax out their flavors. Beans are what distinguish minestrone from other vegetable soups; the type varies by region, as does the addition (if any) of pasta or rice (this version has neither). The beans are also what give the soup such heft, making it a good option for a meatless one-pot dish (if you leave out the prosciutto) that can stand as the centerpiece of any casual dinner. The beans need to soak overnight in the refrigerator, so plan accordingly. Then they need to boil for at least a half hour, so use that time to prepare the rest of the ingredients for the soffritto and soup.

One of the best reasons to make your own basic brown stock is that it means French onion soup from scratch is within easy reach. (You can also make the soup with white beef stock, page 42.) Like many other bistro classics, French onion soup has humble origins as a staple of thrifty households, where a pot of stock—itself born of frugality—was the foundation for many family meals. Even those with limited resources could make soupe a l’oignon since it calls for little else: pounds of inexpensive and readily available onions, a crusty baguette (providing a way to use up day-old bread), and a chunk of sharp Gruyère cheese, grated to turn a little into a lot. Because there are so few components, each one is enhanced in some way to contribute to the final dish. The homemade stock provides both color and robust taste, as well as ensuring a silky consistency. Caramelizing the onions gives them a wonderful sweetness (and more dark brown color). Toasted bread adds a textural note, while gratinéed cheese introduces another pleasing component. Similar to the burnt-sugar shell atop crème brûlée, the molten, golden crown invites tucking into with a spoon. This recipe can be halved, but since the soup freezes well, it is worth making the full amount.

In the Pizzeria kitchen we refer to this as the “breakfast pizza” because of the traditional combination. We don’t cut through the egg because the whole egg looks pretty in the center of the pizza when we bring it to the table. And that way our customers can have the thrill of breaking the yolk themselves.

This is a wonderful example of a vegetarian dish that isn’t at all compromised by its lack of meat. We scatter artichoke leaves over the surface of the pizza so you get the flavor of artichoke in every bite. The mild flavor of the stracchino contrasts nicely with the bitterness of the artichokes.