CONTORNI
SALADS AND SIDE DISHES
INSALATA DI RINFORZO
Cauliflower, Olive, Pepper, and Caper Salad
Serves 6
This Neapolitan holiday staple, also called burdiglione, is traditionally served on Christmas Eve to provide rinforzo (reinforcement) to a lean, fish-based meal. The ingredients are seasonal—Neapolitans pickle peppers after the summer harvest and begin using them once the weather cools. In Naples, the pepper of choice is the pappacella, a squat, flattened pepper, but you can substitute bell peppers or another sweet variety here. Some Neapolitan cooks also add torn escarole leaves to their insalata. Feel free to do so, but be sure to add them just before serving so they maintain their freshness and don’t break down in the vinegar while the salad marinates overnight.
FOR THE QUICK-PICKLED VEGETABLES
3 cups white wine vinegar, plus more as needed
3 cups water
3 tablespoons kosher salt, plus more as needed
3 tablespoons sugar, plus more as needed
3 bay leaves
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
3 medium carrots, cut into ½-inch-thick rounds
2 red or yellow bell peppers, cut into 1-inch squares
2 celery stalks, cut into ½-inch-thick pieces
1 small red onion, halved and cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
FOR THE SALAD
Sea salt
1 small head cauliflower, separated into florets
½ cup olives, rinsed, pitted, and halved lengthwise
2 tablespoons capers, rinsed
6 salted anchovy fillets, cleaned (see this page) and cut into ¼-inch pieces
¼ cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, roughly chopped
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
Make the quick-pickled vegetables: In a medium pot, combine the vinegar and water and bring to a simmer over low heat. Add the kosher salt and sugar. When both have dissolved, taste the brine; it should taste balanced, like something you would put on your salad. Adjust as needed, then add the bay leaves, peppercorns, carrots, and bell peppers. Return to a simmer and cook for 2 minutes, then add the celery. Return to a simmer and cook for 1 minute more, then add the onion and cook for 2 minutes more. Drain, transfer to a large bowl, and set aside to cool.
Make the salad: Fill a medium bowl with ice and water. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil over high heat. Salt the water (see this page). When the salt has dissolved, add the cauliflower and cook until tender but still holding its shape, about 8 minutes. Drain and immediately plunge the cauliflower into the ice bath and let cool. Drain and transfer to the bowl with the pickled vegetables. Add the olives, capers, anchovies, and parsley. Pour the vinegar and olive oil over the vegetables and toss to coat. Season with sea salt and black pepper. Set aside in the refrigerator to allow the flavors to marry for at least 1 hour and up to 2 days before serving.
NOTE You can simmer each vegetable separately for more control over the final product. You want the vegetables to be al dente but cooked through. Cook the carrots and bell peppers for about 5 minutes each, the celery for about 3 minutes, and the onion for about 2 minutes.
The south’s resources and position as a crossroads in the Mediterranean have made it a target for conquest and transit for millennia. As invaders and refugees made their way to the south, they brought their customs, cooking methods, and ingredients with them. At times, the locals would reject the new arrivals—both the people and their food—but after time had erased wounds, these foreigners and their imports would be adopted, wonderfully coloring the native traditions of the south with their influences.
One such event that shaped the south’s produce in a way still appreciated today was the conquest of the south by Arabs in the ninth century AD. At this time, refined cane sugar arrived on the Italian peninsula and was ground into a paste with almonds—an ancient Greek import—to produce marzipan, or pasta di mandorla, as it’s known in Puglia today. Eggplants, known to the Greeks and Romans, were reintroduced to South Italy by Arabs, and a huge range of eggplant species still flourish there. Most citrus fruits, with the exception of lemons, appear to have vanished from the peninsula after the fall of the Roman Empire, but bitter oranges returned to Italy once again to adorn the ornamental gardens of the Arab elite.
Sweet citrus did not arrive until the sixteenth century via the Spanish nobility, who ruled over South Italy until 1861. The Spanish are also responsible for introducing cotton and tobacco as cash crops following the discovery of the New World; Campania is still a major producer of the latter. The now ubiquitous prickly pear—and indeed every other cactus variety in Italy—was introduced by the Spanish as well.
American produce trickled into the heart of South Italy slowly. At first tomatoes and peppers, both members of the nightshade family, caused allergic reactions in the region’s inhabitants, and it wasn’t until centuries later that these New World foods were fully integrated into the diets of the south. Potatoes, one of the most important staples, and corn also arrived in the late fifteenth to early sixteenth centuries; both were immediately embraced by peasants as a valuable source of calories. Last but not least, the cocoa bean, another Spanish import from the New World, would be mashed with cane sugar to produce the first European chocolate bars almost five hundred years ago.
Across the south, from the most frenetic ports to the most isolated rural villages, ingredients from the Arab and New Worlds trickled in, eventually finding their place at the table.
CIANFOTTA
Neapolitan-Style Ratatouille
Serves 4 to 6
Some Neapolitans say this dish is simplified French ratatouille, while others contend that ratatouille is complicated cianfotta. Either way, this stew is a tender medley of seasonal summer produce. While cooking cianfotta, as it’s known in the local dialect (ciambotta in Italian), you want everything to sort of steam in its own juices; you’ll need to control the heat so you don’t need to add any water. In the end, the vegetables should be very soft and almost falling apart and the flavors should all be beautifully married.
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 medium onions, diced
2 garlic cloves, smashed
2 potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
2 bell peppers, cut into 1-inch squares
2 eggplants, cut into 1-inch cubes
3 tomatoes, chopped
3 young zucchini, cut into ½-inch-thick rounds
Sea salt
¼ cup fresh basil leaves, torn
Heat the olive oil in a large saucepan or deep skillet over medium-low heat. When the oil begins to shimmer, add the onions and garlic and season with salt. Cook until the onions are soft and translucent, about 15 minutes. Add the potatoes and cook for about 10 minutes more, then add the bell peppers and eggplants and cook for 10 minutes more. Add the tomatoes and zucchini, season with salt, and bring to a simmer.
Reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer until the vegetables are all very soft and nearly falling apart, about 30 minutes. Add a bit of water to prevent sticking as needed.
Remove from the heat, stir in the basil, and serve warm or cooled. Cianfotta improves overnight and will keep in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.
PATATE RAGANATE
Crispy Potatoes with Onions and Parmigiano-Reggiano
Serves 4 to 6
Tomatoes and eggplants might get all the attention in South Italy’s markets and dishes, but potatoes are the true anchor of the south’s myriad regional cuisines. From coast to coast and on the mountainous peaks in between, potatoes appear in soups, alongside meat, as side dishes, and even in desserts like ’Mpigne (this page). Patate raganate is just one of many side dishes from Basilicata where high-altitude potatoes are the protagonist. Don’t be afraid to burn the edges a little; the crispy bits that stick to the pan are delicious.
3 large potatoes (I like Yukon Gold), peeled and cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
3 Tropea onions, halved and cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
1 large tomato, chopped
¼ cup plus 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt
1 teaspoon dried oregano
½ cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
½ cup dried bread crumbs
Freshly ground black pepper
½ cup water
Preheat the oven to 350°F.
In a large bowl, combine the potatoes, onions, tomato, and ¼ cup of the olive oil. Season with salt.
In a small bowl, combine the oregano, Parmigiano-Reggiano, bread crumbs, pepper, and 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Mix with your hands until the mixture resembles moist sand.
Grease a baking dish with the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil. Add the potato mixture, drizzle over the water, then sprinkle the bread crumb mixture evenly over the potatoes. Bake, uncovered, until the potatoes have a golden crust and the bread crumbs are well toasted, 1 to 1¼ hours. Serve immediately.
SEDANO ALLA MOLISANA
Sautéed Celery with Olives
Serves 4
This humble side dish is the epitome of Molise’s culinary simplicity. As with many dishes from the region, sedano alla molisana is enriched with bread crumbs to add a bit more flavor—and calories—to the peasant cuisine.
Sea salt
1 bunch celery, sliced into 1-inch pieces (see Note)
5 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
6 spring onions or scallions, thinly sliced
½ cup Gaeta olives, rinsed, pitted, and cut in half lengthwise
Freshly ground black pepper
¼ cup Pane Grattugiato (seasoned bread crumbs; see this page)
Preheat the oven to 400°F.
Bring a medium pot of water to a boil over high heat. Salt the water (see this page). When the salt has dissolved, add the celery. Blanch for 1 minute, then drain and set aside.
Meanwhile, heat 3 tablespoons of the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. When the oil begins to shimmer, add the spring onions, season with salt, and cook until softened but not browned, about 3 minutes. Add the blanched celery and cook until tender, 15 minutes more. Add the olives and cook for 1 minute more. Season with salt and pepper.
Place the celery mixture in a small baking dish. Sprinkle the Pane Grattugiato on top and drizzle the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil over the bread crumbs. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, until the bread crumbs are lightly browned. The celery should be close to falling apart but still hold its form. Serve immediately.
NOTE The tougher outer stalks of the celery need to be cleared of strings, or else you’ll end up with a few unpleasantly stringy mouthfuls. Using a vegetable peeler or small knife, remove most of the fiber from around the outside of the thickest stalks, then slice the stalks into 1-inch pieces.
CIAUDEDDA
Favas, Artichokes, and Potatoes
Serves 4 to 6
What Cianfotta (this page) is to summer in Campania, Ciaudedda is to spring in Basilicata. This springtime stew is made in that narrow period in which artichokes and favas are both in season and the young favas are sweet and tender. It’s not quite brothy, having absorbed most of the liquid during the simmering process, but it’s not dry, either. It can be a side dish or even a main, and in fact it’s quite popular as a secondo around Lent (minus the pancetta, of course).
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
½ cup diced pancetta
1 onion, diced
1 garlic clove, smashed
Sea salt
3 tender young artichokes, cleaned and quartered
2 potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
Handful of chopped fresh herbs (such as marjoram, thyme, mint, parsley)
Freshly ground black pepper
½ cup white wine
4 cups vegetable broth or water, warmed
10 ounces shelled fresh fava beans
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over low heat. When the oil begins to shimmer, add the pancetta. Cook until the pancetta fat has rendered, about 10 minutes, then add the onion and garlic and season with salt. Cook until the garlic just begins to turn golden, about 5 minutes, then add the artichokes, potatoes, herbs, and pepper. Season once again with salt and stir to combine the ingredients.
Increase the heat to high and add the wine. Bring to a boil and cook until the alcohol aroma dissipates, 2 to 3 minutes, then add enough broth to cover the artichokes halfway. Return to a boil, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook until the artichokes and potatoes begin to soften, 10 to 12 minutes. Add the favas, cover, and cook until the favas are soft and most of the liquid has been absorbed, about 20 minutes. If it looks like it’s drying out too much, add more broth as needed (you may not need all the broth). Season with salt and pepper. Serve warm or at room temperature.
NOTE In South Italy, there are two diametrically opposed schools of thought when it comes to wine and artichokes. Some cooks are vehemently opposed to ever letting the two meet, citing the metallic flavor that results from drinking wine with artichokes. Others never pause for a second to consider it. I fall somewhere in the middle, but if you are in the former category, feel free to omit the wine from this recipe.
Vineyards require maintenance throughout the year, from early spring when the first tendrils awaken following their winter slumber, until after the harvest in early fall when the vines are trimmed and manicured. Recipes related to each stage of vineyard upkeep were developed by poor families working in these fields. Their need for energy knew no bounds during the course of this taxing labor, so not only would they drink wine before and after work as a calorie source, but they would even eat the trimmed tendrils, vines, and leaves.
Now that much of the south’s wine industry has gone mechanized—and therefore vineyard workers aren’t quite as numerous or as hungry as they used to be—many of these old-school recipes have virtually vanished. That includes insalata di viticci, a salad made with the green shoots that appear on vines in early spring. They are trimmed from the plant, simmered in vinegar, and dressed with olive oil and herbs. Unless you go foraging for them yourself and make it at home, one of the few places you’ll find this disappearing dish is in Puglia in the village of Noci, where it is served in the spring at L’Antica Locanda as part of the trattoria’s famously abundant antipasto spread.
’U PAN’ CUOTT’
Baked Bread and Provolone Casserole
Serves 4 to 6
In Bernalda, a town in Basilicata best known as the ancestral village of Francis Ford Coppola, there are many ancient bread traditions. The town isn’t far from the durum wheat fields of the Murgia plateau and the famous bread towns Matera and Altamura. One of the town’s classic dishes is ’u pan’ cuott’ (Bernaldese dialect for pane cotto, “cooked bread”). Families would bake stale slices of Bernalda’s enormous 3-kilogram loaves with whatever food scraps they could find, resulting in a savory, delicious bread casserole bound by gooey bits of melted provolone. Use the crustiest durum bread you can find or bake.
1 pound day-old durum wheat bread (I like Matera-style; see this page), torn into bite-size pieces
3 cups cherry tomatoes, halved
7 ounces provolone cheese, cut into 1-inch cubes
1 teaspoon peperoni cruschi powder or sweet paprika
2 garlic cloves, smashed
1 teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon peperoncino or red pepper flakes
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt
Preheat the oven to 475°F with a rack in the center position.
Place the bread in a colander, rinse with warm water, and set aside to soften. The bread should be moistened but not sopping wet.
In a large bowl, combine the tomatoes, provolone, peperoni cruschi, garlic, oregano, peperoncino, and ¼ cup of the olive oil. Season with salt.
When the bread crusts have softened, squeeze out any excess liquid and add the bread to the bowl with the tomato mixture. Stir to combine.
Grease a baking dish with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil, pour in the tomato mixture, and drizzle the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil on top. Bake until the top is heavily browned and the provolone has melted, about 20 minutes. Serve warm.
The concept that vast criminal organizations still exist and influence Italian society might seem quaint or anachronistic. Maybe that’s because so much of what outsiders think they know about the Mafia is informed by The Godfather, a film that’s nearly fifty years old. Certainly, if reporting on the Mafia wasn’t a life-threatening occupation, we would all know a lot more. Indeed, it’s not unusual for several dozen journalists at a given time to be under 24-hour police protection for reporting on the topic.
What has been documented by some brave journalists and human rights groups is that the Camorra and the ’Ndrangheta, the Mafias of Campania and Calabria, respectively, are deeply entrenched in the food systems of the south. They prey on vulnerable migrants—men, women, and children, mainly from Central Africa and South Asia, trafficked into Italy by other Mafias—and force them into modern-day slavery. There are an estimated 130,000 migrant workers harvesting produce in the fileds of the Italian south, for whom working twelve to fourteen hours a day, six or seven days a week, often nets less than 150 euro, well short of Italy’s 9 euro per hour minimum wage. From that sum, field bosses often charge extortionate prices for transportation, food, and water. And violence against and intimidation of these agricultural workers is rampant.
Italy’s homegrown crime groups have plenty to gain from these cruel, exploitative practices. Mafia influence pervades the food and farming sectors, deriving both illegal and legitimate profits from their agriculture businesses. The corruption is so extensive, it’s nearly impossible to ensure that the food we eat, whether it’s citrus from Calabria, tomatoes from Campania, or artichokes from Puglia, has been harvested by people earning a dignified, living wage, or any wage at all, unless you go directly to the source. Fortunately, Gustiamo, a Bronx-based purveyor of Italian foods, does just that. By purchasing products from farms that have been inspected by Gustiamo’s founder, Beatrice Ughi, and her staff, you can fight the Mafia from the safety of your own home with every online purchase.
FINOCCHI IN PADELLA
Sautéed Fennel and Herbs
Serves 4 to 6
This side dish from Molise, like many of the region’s cucina povera, or peasant cuisine, features bread crumbs stirred in to provide an extra caloric boost to a lean diet. Today, the economic realities and nutritional necessities of molisani have changed, so you can feel free to exclude the dried bread crumbs called for in the recipe, as they change the texture and make the dish a bit sticky and clumpy. The fennel here is accompanied by garlic, thyme, Parmigiano-Reggiano, and black pepper, which mingle with and mellow out the fennel’s natural sweetness.
3 fennel bulbs
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 garlic cloves, smashed
1 teaspoon fresh thyme
½ cup water
Sea salt
⅓ cup finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
¼ cup Pane Grattugiato (seasoned bread crumbs; see this page)
Freshly ground black pepper
Trim and discard the stalks and root ends from the fennel bulbs, reserving the fronds. Roughly chop the fronds and set aside. Remove any tough outer layers or peel the outer layer with a vegetable peeler to remove any tough fibers. Slice the bulbs in half through the root end and then slice each half lengthwise into ¼-inch-thick pieces. Set aside.
Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. When the oil begins to shimmer, add the garlic and cook until it just begins to turn golden, about 5 minutes. Add the thyme and cook until fragrant, 30 seconds more.
Add the fennel and water and season with salt. Increase the heat to medium, cover, and cook until the fennel is very tender, 15 to 20 minutes. Uncover, add the fennel fronds, and cook until any remaining water has evaporated, about 5 minutes more. The fennel should be nearly falling apart. Remove the skillet from the heat and stir in the Parmigiano-Reggiano and Pane Grattugiato. Season with salt and pepper and serve warm.
INSALATA DI LIMONE
Lemon and Mint Salad
Serves 6 to 8
At Da Girone, a raucous seaside restaurant in Procida, this salad is served as a foil for the establishment’s numerous fried fish dishes. I love it after a long day of sunning myself on Procida’s “Il Postino” beach, named for its role as a backdrop in the Academy Award–winning film of the same name. Just as any Procidan would, use the best-quality lemons you can find—and don’t peel them! The contrast of the flesh, pith, and skin give this salad surprising depth.
6 untreated organic lemons (I like Meyer lemons), seeded and cut into bite-size pieces
Handful of fresh mint leaves, torn
1 teaspoon peperoncino or red pepper flakes
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
Sea salt
In a medium bowl, combine the lemons, half the mint, the peperoncino, and the olive oil. Season with salt and toss well. Set aside to marinate for at least 1 hour. Serve garnished with the remaining mint.
NOTE A lot of this dish is about making a strongly flavored citrus fruit subtler, which is achieved, in part, by making thin slices: Halve the lemons. Slice each half into thirds lengthwise, then crosswise into ⅛-inch-thick slices—or thinner, if you can!
INSALATA DI PERA, RUGHETTA, E SCAMORZA
Pear, Arugula, and Scamorza Salad
Serves 4 to 6 as a side dish or appetizer, or 3 or 4 as a main dish
At La Grotta di Zi’ Concetta in Campobasso, the rustic dishes are simple and rarely exceed three ingredients. This one, which can be a main or a side dish, features grilled scamorza cheese with peppery wild arugula and sweet local pears. Scamorza is mozzarella’s cousin; it’s a salted cow’s-milk cheese made from stretched curds that are shaped into a spherical form, then wrapped with twine and hung up to age, resulting in a pear-shaped cheese—it’s only a coincidence that its flavor goes so well with pears!
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for greasing
1 pound scamorza cheese, cut into ½-inch-thick rounds
1 small, firm pear (I like Bartlett), cored and cut into ⅛-inch-thick slices
12 ounces arugula
1½ tablespoons fresh lemon juice
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Lightly grease a grill pan or skillet and heat the pan over high heat. Grill the scamorza until crisp on the outside and soft and slightly melted inside, about 2 to 3 minutes per side. Set aside while dressing the salad.
In a large bowl, combine the pear, arugula, olive oil, and lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper. Toss with your hands.
Serve the scamorza alongside the pear salad.