Horace, born Quinto Flacco of freed Roman slaves in the sleepy village of Venosa in the north of Basilicata, was educated in Rome and Athens in philosophy and literature and trained as a soldier. It was his poverty, though, that piqued him to write verse. A satirist, a classicist, a romantic, Horace was also a dyspeptic. He sought cures from alchemists and magicians. He journeyed to Chiusi (an Etruscan town in Umbria, fifteen kilometers from our home) to sit his ailing bones in icy, sulfurous baths. But it was this soup of dried peas and leeks, a food of his childhood, to which he paid homage in his works as his only cure. The folk of Venosa present, having little else to claim, make the soup in every osteria and taverna, each cook armed with at least one trucco—trick—that makes his soup the one and only true one. Here follows mine, its only trucco its artlessness.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
Round out these autumn greens with tart pomegranate seeds, crunchy pepitas, and a shower of Parmesan.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.
An extra-silky filling (no water bath needed!) and a smooth sour cream topping make this the ultimate cheesecake.
This classic 15-minute sauce is your secret weapon for homemade mac and cheese, chowder, lasagna, and more.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.
Crispy. Golden. Fluffy. Bubbe would approve.
This flexible recipe is all you need to bring this iconic Provençal seafood stew to your table.