Roman “Egg Drop” Soup and Wedding Soup
Free-range chickens, if you can find them, will make a superior stock. I also like the richness that turkey wings add to a chicken stock, so I use them all the time. You can save the chicken parts you need for stock over time, in a sealable bag or container to keep in the freezer, or perhaps your butcher can sell you what you need. Remove the livers from the giblet bag before making stock—livers will add a bitter flavor.
MAKES 4 QUARTS
3 pounds chicken and/or capon wings, backs, necks, and giblets (not including the liver), preferably from free-range or organically raised birds
1 pound turkey wings
8 quarts water
1 large onion (about ½ pound), cut in half
3 cups carrots, peeled and sliced 1 inch thick
3 stalks celery, cut crosswise into 4 pieces
6 garlic cloves
6 sprigs fresh Italian parsley
6 whole black peppercorns
Salt
Wash the chicken parts and turkey wings thoroughly under cold running water, and drain them well. Put them with the water in a large stockpot, and bring to a boil over high heat. Lower heat to medium, and boil for 1 hour. Skim off the surface foam and fat occasionally.
Meanwhile, place the onion, cut sides down, directly over an open flame, and cook until the cut surface is well browned, about 3 minutes. Move the onion halves with a pair of tongs as necessary to brown all over, evenly. (You may also brown the onion, cut sides down, in a heavy skillet over medium heat.)
Add to the pot all the remaining ingredients except the salt. Bring the pot to a boil again, occasionally skimming the fat and foam off the top. Lower the heat until the liquid is “perking”—one or two large bubbles rising to the surface at a time. Partially cover, and cook for 3 hours, adding salt to taste.
Strain the broth through a colander lined with a dampened kitchen towel or cheesecloth. If you want to use the stock immediately, you can remove much of the liquid fat floating on the surface by lightly dragging a folded paper towel over the surface. It will be easier to degrease the stock if you have time to chill it completely in the refrigerator. The fat will then rise to the surface and solidify, and can simply be lifted off. The stock can be refrigerated up to 4 days, or frozen up to 3 months. It will be easier to use if frozen in small (1-to-2-cup) containers. Once frozen, the stock can be removed from the containers and stored in sealable freezer bags, to be taken from the freezer as needed. You can also freeze stock directly in zip-lock plastic bags once it has cooled.
Stale bread has never tasted so good, or been presented with such finesse, as in this dish—a delicious transformation, another fabulous way to use up yesterday’s bread. Shaped into passatelli and combined with a good chicken stock, leftovers are transformed into an Italian classic.
SERVES 8
2 quarts chicken stock (see preceding recipe)
1 cup fine dry bread crumbs
½ cup grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more for serving
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
Finely grated zest of 1 lemon
2 large eggs
Bring the chicken stock to a simmer in a soup pot.
Put the bread crumbs, cheese, salt, and nutmeg in an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix on low speed to combine the dry ingredients, then add the lemon zest. Increase the speed to medium, and add the eggs one at a time, continuing to mix until everything comes together to form a thick dough.
To make the passatelli, switch to the meat-grinder mixer attachment with the largest-holed die (or set up a countertop meat grinder). Push the dough through the grinder, cutting with a knife into 2-to-3-inch strands as they come out the other end of the grinder. Lay strands on a baking sheet lined with parchment, and continue until all of the dough is used.
Once all the dough is used, drop the passatelli into the simmering stock, and stir. Simmer until the strands are cooked through, about 1 to 2 minutes. Ladle out bowls of passatelli and broth, passing more grated cheese for serving.
Stracciare means “to rip to shreds” in Italian, and, indeed, that is how this soup looks after you’ve stirred some beaten eggs with some grated cheese into a good chicken broth. Once you have a good chicken broth, the rest is easy. Stracciatella is usually served with shredded spinach and beaten egg, but I recall having it with just egg and cheese when spinach was not in season. In the Italy that I grew up in, seasons made a difference, not only in how we dressed, but in what we ate. This is a great restorative soup, served in most Italian families.
SERVES 6
8 cups defatted homemade chicken stock
1¼ teaspoons kosher salt
4 packed cups shredded fresh spinach leaves
4 large eggs
⅓ cup grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more for serving
Freshly ground black pepper
Bring the stock to a simmer in a medium pot with 1 teaspoon salt. Once stock is simmering, add the spinach and cook until tender, about 3 minutes.
Whisk together the eggs, grated cheese, remaining ¼ teaspoon salt, and freshly ground black pepper to taste in a medium bowl.
When the spinach is tender, add about a third of the egg mixture to the soup, continuously whisking, to make shreds of eggs. Add remaining eggs in two more batches, letting the soup return to a boil between additions. Once all of the eggs have been added, bring the soup to a final boil, and use the whisk to break up any large clusters of eggs. Serve the soup with the additional grated cheese.
Every region of Italy has its version of minestrone. The Italian American version seems always to have diced carrots, celery, potatoes, beans, and cabbage, rendering it distinct, with a touch of sour aftertaste. Variations include vegetables that were readily available in the small gardens Italian immigrants kept in their backyards or window boxes. Italian Americans love their minestrone so much that in 1949, Progresso Quality Foods began selling minestrone, as well as pasta e fagioli, in cans as a convenience food. At first the soup was available only in Italian American markets, but soon enough it hit mainstream America.
MAKES ABOUT 4 QUARTS
3 ounces pancetta or bacon, cut into pieces
4 garlic cloves, crushed and peeled
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
2 medium russet potatoes, peeled, cut into ½-inch chunks (about 12 ounces)
2 tablespoons tomato paste
6 quarts water
2 fresh bay leaves
1 large carrot, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
1 cup dried cannellini beans, soaked overnight and drained
1 large zucchini, chopped
1 small head Savoy cabbage, cored, shredded (about 8 cups)
1 bunch Swiss chard, shredded
2 tablespoons salt
8 ounces ditalini
Combine pancetta, garlic, and 2 tablespoons olive oil in a food processor, and pulse to make a fine-textured paste or pestata. Heat the remaining olive oil in a large pot over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot, scrape in the pestata. Cook, stirring, until pestata renders its fat, about 4 minutes.
Add the onion, and cook until it begins to soften, about 3 minutes. Toss in the potatoes, and cook until they begin to stick to the bottom of the pan, another 3 minutes. Push aside the vegetables to make a dry “hot spot” in the center of the pan, and plop the tomato paste into that space, toasting it on all sides for a minute or two. Return the vegetables to the center of the pan, and stir the toasted paste into them. Pour in the water, along with the bay leaves, carrot, celery, and soaked cannellini. Bring to a rapid simmer, and cook until the beans are almost tender, about 40 minutes. Add the zucchini, cabbage, chard, and salt. Cover, and cook until beans and vegetables are tender and soup is flavorful, about 45 minutes more.
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and cook the ditalini al dente. Just before serving, scoop up the ditalini and add to the soup.
Escarole is in the chicory family, the bitter dark-green vegetables that Italians love. Escarole played such a big role in the cooking of Italian Americans because it seemed to be one of the few chicory vegetables available here in the States. It is a very versatile and inexpensive vegetable as well: easy to grow, resilient to cooler weather, and giving a large yield per head. The outer leaves can be used in soups, braised with garlic and oil, or stuffed; the tender center white leaves are great for salads. This is an Italian recipe, but the ingredients are adapted to include the local ingredient kale, much loved and eaten in the States.
MAKES 4 QUARTS
6 quarts water
1 pound dried cannellini beans, soaked overnight and drained
4 fresh bay leaves
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1½-pound head green kale or cavolo nero, tough stems removed, leaves washed and coarsely shredded
12-ounce head escarole, tough stems removed, leaves washed and coarsely shredded
2 tablespoons kosher salt, plus more as needed
FOR FINISHING
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for serving
10 garlic cloves, sliced
7 whole dried peperoncini
Grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano, for serving
Boil the 6 quarts water with the drained beans and the bay leaves in a large soup pot. Adjust the heat to a rapid simmer, pour in the olive oil, and cook partially covered until the beans are halfway cooked, about 30 minutes. Add the kale, and cook uncovered for an additional 15 minutes. Add the escarole and 2 tablespoons salt, and cook until the beans and greens are tender and the soup has reduced to about 4 quarts, another 20 to 30 minutes.
To finish the soup: Heat the ½ cup olive oil in a skillet over medium-low heat. Toss in the garlic and peperoncini and cook, stirring occasionally, until garlic is golden and fragrant, about 2 to 3 minutes. (Do not let the garlic or peperoncini burn.) Carefully add a few ladles of soup to the skillet, let simmer a minute or two, then pour the contents of the skillet back into the soup pot.
Taste for salt, return the soup to a simmer, and cook another 10 minutes, to blend the flavors. Remove the peperoncini. Serve with a drizzle of olive oil and grated cheese.
I got this recipe from Guido Pezzini, the patriarch at Pezzini Farms in Castroville, California, who claims that just about every dish his mother cooked included artichokes in some form. This soup is one of his favorites. The Pezzinis are a delightful and caring family, with Sean, the grandson, as the next generation in training.
MAKES 4 QUARTS
5 medium (or 10 baby) artichokes
Juice of 1 lemon
⅔ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1¾ pounds russet potatoes, peeled and cut into ½-inch cubes
2 leeks, white and pale-green parts, sliced, washed well (about 4 cups)
3 shallots, chopped (about ½ cup)
6 garlic cloves, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh thyme leaves
1 fresh bay leaf
1 tablespoon kosher salt
⅛ teaspoon peperoncino flakes
4 quarts cold water
2 tablespoons chopped fresh Italian parsley
Grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano, for serving
Clean and prepare the artichokes as detailed. Put artichokes in a serving bowl and toss with the lemon juice.
Heat the olive oil in a soup pot over medium-high heat. Add the potatoes, and cook until they begin to stick to the bottom of the pot, about 5 minutes. Add the leeks and shallots, and cook until softened, about 10 minutes.
Sprinkle in the garlic, thyme, bay leaf, salt, and peperoncino. Cook until the garlic is fragrant, about 1 to 2 minutes. Pour in the water and bring to a boil. Add the prepped, drained artichokes, and bring the soup to a rapid simmering. Cook, uncovered, until potatoes and artichokes are tender and the potatoes have broken down to thicken the soup, about 1½ hours.
Stir in the chopped parsley, and serve the soup with grated cheese.
Inspecting the nine different sizes of artichokes grown at Pezzini Farms in Castroville, California
I love soups, and I love cauliflower, and who doesn’t like pancetta? This is a delicious soup, and, yes, you can serve it as is, or you can add some cooked white or brown rice. Get yourself some crusty bread, a glass of Chianti Classico or Morellino (the other Tuscan red), and enjoy.
MAKES ABOUT 2½ QUARTS
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
2 ounces pancetta, cut into ¼-inch dice
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 large carrot, cut into ¼-inch dice
4 quarts cold water
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 large head cauliflower, cut into small florets
1 cup brown lentils, rinsed
Grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano, for serving
Heat the olive oil in a large soup pot set over medium heat, and toss in the pancetta. Cook and stir until the pancetta renders its fat, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add the onion and carrot, cooking until they begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Pour in the water, and add 1 tablespoon of the salt. Partially cover, bring to a rapid simmer, and cook to develop the flavors, about 25 minutes.
Add the cauliflower and lentils, and bring again to a rapid simmer. Cook, uncovered, until the cauliflower has broken down and the lentils are tender, about 40 minutes. Season with remaining salt.
Serve soup in bowls, with a drizzle of olive oil and some grated cheese.
This soup has weathered well among the generations of the Italian immigrant families that have cooked it. As I travel through America and look for the flavors and recipes the Italian immigrants brought with them, this recipe is almost always remembered fondly. It is still cooked with nostalgia and reverence, and at holidays, particularly in the homes of immigrants from southern Italy. It is a dish usually served when the whole family is at the table. Even if the “marriage” mostly likely refers to the marriage of the ingredients, the soup is also thought to give strength to a newly married couple for their wedding night.
MAKES ABOUT 5 QUARTS
1 medium onion, roughly chopped
4 garlic cloves, peeled
2 stalks celery, roughly chopped
1 medium carrot, roughly chopped
10 large fresh basil leaves
½ teaspoon peperoncino flakes
2 tablespoons plus ½ teaspoon kosher salt
6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
7 quarts cold water
1 large fennel bulb, cored, finely chopped, plus some chopped fronds
1 pound zucchini, cut into ½-inch chunks
1 large head escarole, coarsely shredded (or half escarole, half spinach)
1 pound ground pork
1 pound ground beef
1 cup fine dry bread crumbs
1 cup grated Grana Padano
⅓ cup chopped fresh Italian parsley
1 large egg, beaten
Pulse the onion, garlic, celery, carrot, basil, peperoncino, and 1 tablespoon salt in a food processor, making a fine-textured paste or pestata. Heat a large skillet over medium-high heat, and add the olive oil. When the oil is hot, scrape in the pestata. Cook, stirring, until the pestata dries out and begins to stick to the bottom of the pan, about 10 minutes. Pour in the water and bring to a rapid simmer. Cover, and cook 20 minutes; then add the fennel, zucchini, and 1 tablespoon of salt.
Cover again, and let the soup cook at a rapid simmer for another 20 minutes. Add the escarole (or escarole and spinach). Uncover, and cook until all of the greens are tender and the soup has reduced by about a third, 30 to 40 minutes.
Make the meatballs: Combine the ground pork, ground beef, bread crumbs, grated cheese, parsley, egg, and the remaining salt in a large bowl. Mix well with your hands, and form into 1-inch meatballs. Place meatballs on a sheet tray.
When the greens are tender and the soup has reduced, gently add the meatballs. Cook until they are cooked through, about 20 minutes more. Serve soup with more grated cheese and a drizzle of olive oil.
Legumes are a big part of the culinary tradition in Italy, and they found a place in Italian American homes as well. Almost every Italian American I spoke with wanted to share a memory of his or her favorite lentil dish. Legumes, especially lentils, deliver a lot of flavor, plus nutritional and economical value, and everyone could afford them. The immigrants ate them a lot, and they are still a favorite in Italian American kitchens. Pasta and beans, pasta e fagioli—or, as Italian Americans call it, pasta fazool—is a traditional meatless Italian dish, although it usually refers to white beans, such as cannellini or borlotti. Pasta fazool probably came from Neapolitan immigrants, derived from the Neapolitan word for beans, fazul.
The recipe below is a soup consisting of lentils and pasta, but you can turn it into a dry pasta dish instead of a soup by adding only 5 to 6 cups of water. Or even make the lentils as a vegetable dish by eliminating the 4 cups of water and omitting the ditalini. The pancetta is added for flavor, but to make the soup vegetarian, omit the pancetta and start with the onion.
MAKES ABOUT 3½ QUARTS
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
6 ounces pancetta
1 medium onion, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
1 large carrot, peeled and shredded
2 fresh bay leaves
1 cup canned San Marzano whole tomatoes, hand-crushed
2 cups brown lentils, rinsed and drained
8 cups water
1 tablespoon kosher salt
8 ounces ditalini
Grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano, for serving
Pour 2 tablespoons olive oil into a large Dutch oven and heat over medium heat. Cut the pancetta into ¼-inch strips and add them. Cook until they begin to render fat, about 3 to 4 minutes. Add the onion, celery, carrot, and bay leaves. Cook until wilted, about 5 minutes. Add crushed tomatoes and bring to a simmer. Cook until thickened, about 10 minutes.
Once it’s thickened, add lentils, water, and the tablespoon of salt. Bring to a simmer, cover, and cook until lentils are just tender, about 30 minutes.
Add the ditalini, and cook, covered, until pasta is al dente, about 8 minutes. Serve with a drizzle of olive oil and some grated cheese.
Known as pasta fazool in the Italian American community, this is the cornerstone of Italian soup-making. This recipe traveled easily from Italy along with the early immigrants. Beans and the other ingredients were easy to find, and the technique they used was just like back home. An inexpensive, nutritious soup, it cooked by itself while the woman of the house did her chores.
Some options to vary this soup would be to purée part or all of the beans after they have been cooked, and before you add the pasta. This is the version kids love, and it is also used in restaurants for a seemingly elegant touch, although I like to bite into my beans. I also substitute rice or barley for the pasta, a common practice in the north of Italy, where rice is abundant.
MAKES ABOUT 4 QUARTS
1 pound dried cannellini beans
4 ounces bacon
3 large garlic cloves, peeled
Needles from 1 sprig fresh rosemary (about 1 tablespoon)
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus more for serving
1 medium onion, chopped
1 medium carrot, chopped
2 tablespoons tomato paste
2 pounds russet potatoes (about 6 to 8 potatoes), peeled
2 fresh bay leaves
6 quarts cold water
2 tablespoons kosher salt
1 pound ditalini pasta
Freshly ground black pepper
Grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano, for serving
Soak the cannellini beans overnight and drain.
Pulse the bacon, garlic, and rosemary in a mini–food processor to make a fine-textured paste or pestata.
Heat 3 tablespoons olive oil over medium heat in a large soup pot. Add the pestata, and cook until bacon has rendered its fat, about 3 to 4 minutes. Meanwhile, make a second pestata (you don’t have to wash the processor) by puréeing the onion and carrot. Add the second pestata to the pot, and cook, stirring occasionally, until it has dried out and starts to stick to the bottom of the pan, about 5 minutes.
Scrape the pestata to one side of the pan to clear a “hot spot,” add the tomato paste, and let cook for a few minutes, until lightly toasted. Stir the tomato paste into the pestata, and add the drained beans, the potatoes, and the bay leaves. Pour in the water. Bring the soup to a boil, cover, and let cook at a strong simmer until beans and potatoes are tender, about 1 hour and 15 minutes, uncovering to reduce liquid about halfway through the cooking time. Stir in the salt.
With a large wooden spoon, mash the remaining potatoes against the side of the pot to thicken the soup. Return soup to a boil, add the ditalini, and cook until pasta is al dente. Season to taste.
Serve soup with a drizzle of olive oil and some grated cheese.
Italians have been part of the life of Philadelphia since colonial times. Italian immigration to Philadelphia was one of the earliest waves, and in the mid-eighteenth century consisted mainly of intellectuals, artists, and entrepreneurs. William Penn had visited Italy, and, believing in religious freedom, he welcomed the Italians, allowing them and other European immigrants to practice Catholicism. In 1753, Benjamin Franklin offered instruction in Italian at the Philadelphia College. In 1779, Filippo Mazzei came to Philadelphia, a friend of Thomas Jefferson. Mazzei had written “All men are by nature equally free and independent” in a letter to Jefferson a few years before 1776, which was said to have deeply influenced Jefferson as he was drafting the Declaration of Independence. In the late nineteenth century, many wealthy Italians left Italy for political reasons and came to Philadelphia, followed by blue-collar workers looking for work and opportunity.
Not far from the waterfront, where most blue-collar immigrants lived, the 9th Street market was and still is a bustling place. The market was once the very essence of the Italian neighborhood of Philadelphia, and every product reflected the Italian heritage. Now waves of immigrants from other countries have made the produce stands their own.
I go to Philadelphia often and for many different reasons, but whenever I go to South Philadelphia for a cheese steak and some shopping, I stop and visit my friend Mariella Giovannucci at Fante’s Kitchen Wares Shop. Mariella hails from Friuli, the same region I come from, and is a rather recent immigrant to Philadelphia, having arrived with her family in the 1960s. Luigi Fante and his father, Domenico Fante, founded the store in 1906 and made the whole family part of the operation for generations. In 1981, the family retired and Mariella (then the acting general manager) and her family acquired the store. Under its new direction, Fante’s became even more focused on goods for the preparation and service of food, carrying items difficult to find elsewhere in the United States. Positioned in the middle of a bustling market, it is always busy.
Not too far from Fante’s and the market, near Triangle Park, there is Pat’s and Geno’s, known for their cheese steaks and for their ongoing rivalry regarding who has the best cheese steak. Pat and Harry Olivieri are often credited with inventing the sandwich. The two stores are situated across the street from each other, and even the locals cannot agree on whose is the best sandwich. But last time I went to the market, we stopped by George’s, on 9th Street, and I had a tripe sandwich while Tanya ate a cheese steak. Mom Olga was serving, while her son Mark was at the griddle. Both sandwiches were very good.
While walking down 9th Street, one can only imagine the bustle of the immigrants shopping for the foods that reminded them of home, such as in D’Angelo Brothers Meat Market, where one can still buy boar, venison, and rabbit. Claudio Specialty Food Shop and Di Bruno Brothers’ cheese shop rival any Italian market in the varieties of cheese, salumi, and other Italian products.
Mark cooks up some beef for the Philly cheese steaks at George’s Sandwich Shop in Philadelphia.
You can find bread as good as it can get at L. Sarcone & Son bakery. On the day Tanya and I were there, the family’s daughter Lynne was behind the counter—it is a second-generation business, and Dad still mans the enormous brick ovens that hold six hundred loaves of bread. No matter how much they can make, the bread is usually sold out by 11 a.m. If you come in any later, you will most likely hear from the elderly salesladies, “Where have you been all morning? The bread is all sold out.”
Sal, the owner (above), and Fred Landis (below) at Claudio Specialty Foods on Ninth Street in Philadelphia
Lou Sarcone, the second generation running L. Sarcone & Son bakery in Philadelphia
Next to the Sarcone bakery is Ralph’s Italian Restaurant, opened in 1900 by Francesco Dispigno. It claims to be the oldest Italian restaurant in America still run by the same family. Now Eddie and Jimmy Rubino run it, still in the family. The menu is Italian American, and Tanya and I had chicken Trombino, chicken Sorrento, baked clams, manicotti, and spumoni.
But Philadelphia is also known for its winning contemporary Italian restaurants, such as the one run by my friend Marc Vetri, Vetri at 1312 Spruce Street, one of the best contemporary Italian restaurants in the country, along with his restaurants Osteria and the newly opened Amis Trattoria. Of Italian descent, Marc began his culinary training at his Sicilian grandmother’s side in South Philly, then went on to the source and trained in Bergamo, Italy, only to return to Philadelphia to bring his bold contemporary sensibility to classic Italian cooking.
The vibrancy of Italian culture, whether on the table or in daily life, continues to be an integral part of the Philadelphia way.
