Leafy Greens

Preparing foods en papillote, which loosely translates to “wrapped in paper,” is actually another way to steam food, even though it takes place in the oven rather than on the stove. It is most commonly used for fish fillets but is also well suited to shellfish and leaner cuts of chicken, such as boneless breast halves. This French technique always manages to impress, the pretty little packages resembling gifts, one for each guest. When the packets are slit open—ceremoniously, at the table—their fragrant aromas are released all at once, hinting at the tastes to come. These bundles are ideal for entertaining, but cooking en papillote has other advantages, too. The packets can be assembled a few hours ahead of time (covered with plastic wrap and refrigerated on a baking sheet) and then tucked into the oven once your guests arrive. And, like other steaming methods, it doesn’t require much added fat; instead, the sealed parchment traps in all that wonderful moisture and flavor. In this recipe, a compound butter helps bring all the components together while adding richness to the dish. Forming the packets is easy—no special skills required. The shape isn’t as important as making sure the edges are tightly sealed. You can fold the parchment into envelopes, wrap it into bundles, or form it into bags, but half-moon packets are the classic shape. The traditional technique begins by cutting paper into a heart shape, but this one starts out as a simple rectangle.

Bamboo steamers are tiered, allowing you to cook more than one item at a time and make a meal out of assorted components, such as the salmon and vegetables in this recipe. General rules of steaming apply no matter which implement you use. For instance, when steaming fish or other proteins, place any aromatics (such as the dill used here) directly underneath them. You could also add the aromatics to the steaming liquid (instead of or in addition to). Adding wine, vinegar, or lemon (or other citrus) juice to the steaming liquid is another way to subtly boost flavors. As with many steamed foods, this dish is equally delicious when served hot, cold, or at room temperature, making it a perfect meal for busy weeknights. The lemon yogurt sauce is a lovely accompaniment, especially when the fish is chilled before serving.

Wilted spinach can be served on its own, dressed with oil and vinegar and seasoned with salt and pepper, or quickly warmed in a pan with olive oil, slivered garlic, and red pepper flakes. But it is also commonly used as a component of another dish; here it is mixed with a rich béchamel sauce to make the classic accompaniment to steaks and chops.

When steaming asparagus, choose thick stalks over pencil-thin ones, which cook quickly and can become limp. The cooking time depends on the thickness and freshness of the stalk, as well as your preference for firmer or more tender texture.

The popular version of fish tacos—as opposed to those made with grilled fish, native to Mexico—is believed to have originated in Southern California, where there is a strong Mexican influence on cooking and plenty of coastline for reeling in fish. They are garnished with a variety of piquant salsas and relishes and usually crema, the Mexican equivalent of sour cream; these are topped with a sour cream–based sauce, spiked with smoky chipotle chiles.

This soup is best made with farm-fresh peas, but you can substitute a ten-ounce package of frozen peas in a pinch. Since spinach and peas cook in such a short amount of time, do not add them to the pot until the stock has reached a boil. This soup is finished with lemon juice rather than cream or buttermilk. For an elegant presentation, garnish the soup with Frico (page 75).

The onion can be substituted with one leek or two large shallots (this is true for the variations, too) and the spinach with other leafy greens, such as chard, kale, watercress, or sorrel. For a soup with brighter color, the leafy greens are added in the last five minutes of cooking, just so they are given a chance to wilt.

Spinach and other greens (such as watercress or sorrel) should be blanched and then squeezed to remove excess liquid; blanching helps to set their color and squeezing afterwards keeps the soup from being watered down. After that, the spinach does not require extra cooking, making this version the quickest of the cream soups.

Broccoli is used here to demonstrate the basic method for making a velouté-based soup; cauliflower can be easily substituted for the broccoli, resulting in a soup that is creamy in color and texture. Or use asparagus: Cut off the tips and blanch to use as a garnish, then trim the tough ends of the stalks before cutting into 1-inch pieces. Proceed with the recipe as written, cooking the stalks for 5 to 8 minutes. For any of these, simply replace the stock with an equal amount of whole milk to make a béchamel-based soup.

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.

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.

It’s very traditional to use ortiche, or “nettles,” to make green pasta such as this one. Despite the fact that they are often called “stinging nettles,” they don’t really sting, but they do have a bristly texture that can irritate your skin. If you wash them first, they won’t bother you as you pick the leaves off the stems. Another solution is to wear thin rubber gloves. If you can’t find nettles, spinach is an acceptable substitute. In either case, the greens have so much water in them (no matter how much you try to squeeze it all out) that we use very few eggs in this dough.

This was one of the original ten pizzas we served at the Pizzeria. I knew I wanted to offer a potato pizza, and I love the combination of potatoes and Gorgonzola.

This classic pizza is a Margherita with prosciutto draped on the pizza after it comes out of the oven. I added arugula because I love the combination of arugula and prosciutto.

Before we opened the Osteria, Matt made all of the dishes he wanted to put on the pasta menu for us to taste together. When he made this dish—his version of a classic from Puglia—I was absolutely convinced that the pasta program we were committing to was a good idea, and that Matt was absolutely the one to execute it. Evidently I’m not alone because this has been our most popular pasta since the day we opened. The chard you will prepare for this dish makes more than you will need for four servings, as does the Fennel Sausage recipe. It would be a good recipe to double and serve to a crowd—just remember to prepare the sauce and toss it with the pasta in two separate sauté pans.

Cavolo nero, a variety of kale, means “black cabbage” in Italian and is a staple of Tuscan cooking. It has a distinct, earthy flavor that I love and that complements many of our heartier preparations.

Ribollita is a classic Tuscan soup traditionally made with leftover minestrone thickened with chunks of stale bread. This version is something quite different, and it’s based entirely on the one they serve at Ristorante Da Delfina, a wonderful ristorante in a tiny village nestled in the hills just outside Florence. It was described to me as a fried soup, so the first time I ate it, I didn’t know what to expect. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that they’d turned the soup into something wholly unsouplike that I could eat with a knife and fork. The way we make it, after cooking off the liquid, we thicken the soup with bread, we chill it, and then shape it into patties that we pan-fry in olive oil. We serve it as an antipasto but it could be a side dish or, served with a green salad, a light meal. I often recommend it to vegetarians, and to make it vegan, just omit the Parmigiano rind. One of our inveterate recipe testers, Tracey Harada, tested this recipe about eight times to get the flavors perfect. Cavolo nero, a variety of kale, is one of the defining ingredients of any ribollita. You can find it at specialty food stores and health-food stores, but if you can’t find it, use another variety of kale.

The perfect example of how good a few simple ingredients, combined and prepared correctly, can be. When we can get it, our preferred variety for this is radicchio di Treviso, which has an oblong head. The roasted heads look so pretty lined up on a platter that they make the perfect addition to an outdoor meal served family or buffet style. As always, the quality of the balsamico you use is essential to the quality of the finished dish.

I don’t like many beet preparations because they tend to be too sweet for me, but the horseradish that these are tossed with fixes that. In the Pizzeria, we present these beets as an antipasto, which is how we give them to you here. In the Osteria, we serve the same beets as part of a composed plate, spooned over burrata, topped with toasted walnuts that have been tossed in walnut oil, fried paper-thin sliced beets, and mâche. We used to dress the beets with freshly grated horseradish, but I found the spiciness to be really inconsistent. Then I was introduced to a jarred, prepared horseradish, Atomic—it really has that horseradish burn. I love it. It’s one of the rare instances where fresh isn’t best.

In Italy you see “coniglio,” or rabbit, offered in even the humblest trattoria or osteria, and I can almost never resist ordering it. The flavor of rabbit meat is so subtle that my favorite preparations are those that really coax the flavor out, such as this one. We braise the legs in white wine and serve them with a rabbit and pancetta sausage. When you buy rabbit, ask your butcher to separate the legs from the body of the animal, to fillet the saddles, and to reserve the carcass. And if you don’t have a meat grinder, ask your butcher to grind the loin and belly meat for the sausage as well. We got the method for curing the rabbits from the Zuni Café Cookbook, a constant, inspiring resource for us. While nothing in this recipe is difficult, I won’t lie to you: it is time consuming. But when it’s all done and you serve and bite into the finished dish, I think you’ll find it was worth it. If you want to spare yourself a little effort, skip the step of making the rabbit stock and use chicken stock in its place.