Nut

Just as you would never find chow mein in China, I don’t think you’d find this salad anywhere in Asia, but the concept is a popular one. In my version, chicken breasts are roasted, not deep-fried.

This simple recipe might well replace a turkey for a special holiday meal. The even browning that the convection oven offers and repeated basting with the slightly spicy glaze guarantee beautifully burnished, succulent little birds.

Crunchy with peanuts and marinated in a richly flavored Asian-style sauce, this is good with steamed jasmine rice and stir-fried snow peas.

For pizza lovers, here are eight varieties to choose from. The basic dough makes two pizzas. The dough is easy to mix in the food processor.

Serve these toasts hot out of the oven. They’re a real crowd-pleaser and the recipe is easy to multiply to serve lots of people. If you make three panfuls at a time, position the oven racks so that they are evenly spaced and bake all three at once.

Our friend Franco Azzara made this memorable pasta dish for us during a recent visit to his home in the Gallura region of Sardinia. I marveled at how quickly he put it together, and at the complex flavor of the raw sauce—just fresh tomatoes, basil and mint, and other savory seasonings, whipped up in a food processor, no cooking necessary. I thank him for sharing this Azzara family recipe, one that I know you will enjoy both for its ease and convenience and for its brilliant flavors.

Here’s another sweet that, like figs stuffed with almonds, is usually made around the holidays. It is simply a caramel syrup with sesame seeds stirred in, poured onto a counter to cool in a thin layer, and cut into bite-sized candies. A smooth, nonporous surface like marble, granite, or stainless steel is best for the cooling; avoid porous wooden surfaces or Formica.

Every region of Italy has its own version of biscotti, and these plain and simple twice-baked cookies from Calabria are great for the home baker. They are tasty and crumbly, and I like the accent of the toasted sliced almonds. When you cut the logs of dough after the first baking, you’ll likely have crumbs and some broken pieces, but don’t throw them away. Save them to sprinkle over ice cream or poached fruit, or to fold into a zabaglione—they add crunch and a sweet taste to all kinds of desserts.

Throughout southern Italy, almond-stuffed figs are a traditional holiday treat, made in every household to offer visiting family and friends. Makes sense for a region that historically had little wealth, and where figs and almonds were abundant and always stored for winter use. Figs and almonds are also a naturally delicious pairing, in my opinion. Though it is not fancy, a dried fig with a single toasted almond tucked into it is transformed into a delicious sweet. In Calabria, though, the preparation of stuffed figs, fichi ripieni, is not always so simple. The region’s figs are prized for their excellence, both fresh and dried. And especially in the northern province of Calabria—in the area of Sibari, where figs grow best—they’re stuffed in all sorts of ways, with different nuts, spices, sweetenings, cocoa, or candied fruits. All of these flavorful ingredients are mixed together to make the stuffing for fichi ripieni alla Sibarita, figs stuffed Sibari-style, considered one of Calabria’s signature dishes. There are many versions of this classic. In most, the figs are baked after stuffing, usually with saba (cooked grape must) or other syrup. Sometimes the figs are then packed in some preserving medium for long storage and more flavor, such as saba, spiced sugar, or sweetened liquor. My version is really a dessert, best served right away. The stuffed figs are baked in a pool of pomegranate and lemon juice, which concentrates in the oven into a luscious thick syrup that I drizzle over the warm figs. It’s a great dessert anytime of year, but particularly during the holidays it has the spirit of an old Italian custom.

The second recipe for cavatelli with cauliflower, casareccie vruocchele e vredocchie, has a bit more complexity with toasted almonds and bread crumbs. Typically, this kind of dish is made with fresh home-made pastas like cavatelli—casarecce means “homemade”—but a short dried pasta such as gemelli can be substituted.

This distinctively flavored pesto is a superb dressing for maccheroni alla chitarra (page 236), spaghetti, or linguine, or a short dry pasta such as gemelli, lumache, or rigatoni. It’s a great condiment, too: put a spoonful on fish or chicken hot off the grill for a real treat. Make extra pesto when basil and parsley are plentiful, in summer, and freeze it in small containers to use through the winter.

Legumes are a specialty of growers in L’Aquila, the big inland province of Abruzzo, and the pride of the region is the small, tender lentils grown in the mountain village of Santo Stefano di Sessanio. Since my recent visit to this remote, rugged settlement, I have had no doubt that it was in just such a place that this hearty and warming winter soup, thick with lentils and chestnuts, was created. These native foods, so good together, can surely sustain one through long cold winters in the high country. Unfortunately, the delicious lenticchie of Santo Stefano di Sessanio are a limited commodity and not available here. Instead, I recommend using lentils from Castelluccio in Umbria (see Sources, page 387) in this soup. Ordinary lentils are fine as well, though some larger types may need soaking or longer cooking time. Chestnuts, grown along the length of the Apennines, are also essential to Abruzzese cuisine. In season, they’re enjoyed in everything from pastas to desserts, and then, like lentils, dried for winter cooking or milled into flour. Though this soup can be made with fresh (or frozen) chestnuts, I use dried chestnuts, as is often the case in Abruzzo. These are available year-round and spare you the work of peeling. I also like the way they cook slowly without disintegrating, giving the soup a particularly nice texture. They do require an overnight soak, however, before you start cooking.

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!

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.

Pan-cooked chicken, caramelized and sticky to the fingers, moist and flavorful inside, is a favorite food around the world. If there are chicken-lovers in your family (as in mine), this Le Marche version is sure to be a hit. Its special taste and texture come from the region’s big fat Ascolane olives, which imbue the chicken with flavor, and the crunch of native pine nuts. Though authentic Ascolane olives are fantastic in this dish, they’re only occasionally available in the United States. But other varieties of green, brine-cured Italian olives (such as Castelvetrano or Cerignola) will be delicious, too; just keep in mind that the saltiness of olives will vary, and season accordingly. “How about black olives?” you ask. And I say, “Black oil-cured olives will be delicious as well; even a green-and-black combination would be nice.” Choose your preferred chicken pieces, too. A whole bird, cut up, is fine, though all dark meat—drumsticks and thighs—is my favorite. And if you are in a hurry (or watching your fat intake), use breast pieces. With these, you can cut the oil and butter in the recipe in half and, because breast meat cooks faster, brown the pieces initially for only 10 minutes, turn them, add the olives, then cook for an additional 10 minutes.

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.

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.

Vegetables prepared alla Genovese are among my favorite Ligurian dishes, made with the freshest produce and brilliantly flavored. I particularly love this sauté of spinach with anchovies, raisins, and pine nuts (and I’ve read that spinach prepared in this manner was one of Michelangelo’s favorite dishes, too). Each of the components makes a distinct contribution: The anchovies lend complexity and saltiness. The raisins bring sweetness and counterbalance the anchovies. (I give you the amounts of each that I like, but find your own balance of flavors by increasing or decreasing either.) Finally, pine nuts add a mellow, pleasing textural contrast. You can apply this trio of tastes to other vegetables; escarole, broccoli, cauliflower, and Swiss chard will all be delicious in such a preparation. Spinaci alla Genovese is wonderful served family-style as a dinner vegetable, or as a colorful bed for grilled chicken breast or fish. Should you have any leftovers, layer the spinach between slices of crusty bread for an unusual but absolutely delicious sandwich.

This delightful pudding is a fine example of the art of using leftovers to make something fresh and new (without evidence of recycling). Here, crumbled biscotti, chopped chocolate, and chopped hazelnuts are mixed into the warm custard. As it cools and sets, the dry cookies absorb and meld with the custard, but also contribute their flavor and texture. This recipe is one upon which you can improvise, using whatever sweet remnants you have on hand, whether ginger snaps or shortbread cookies, or bits of dry sponge cake or pound cake.