Showing posts with label entree. Show all posts
Showing posts with label entree. Show all posts

Feb 14, 2018

Meatballs and more

You may have caught on to my meatball obsession. Beyond consuming ridiculous amounts of cheese, the lure of leftovers reused to make polpette is, culinarily speaking, what defines me. Eating meatballs hurls me back into childhood bliss, they are my Proustian madeleines.

Meatballs and more Photo © Serious Eats

Small morsels bound together by a little starch and an egg go such a long way. Polpette are fun and easy to make, and equally fun and easy to eat.

Rolled in breadcrumbs and fried, baked, steamed, drowned in sauce––whatever the cooking method, polpette are sensational fridge-cleaners. In my family we eat meatballs at least once a week.

Homemade veal meatballs browned in butter

When I was living in Naples 18 years ago, my boyfriend at the time would have me over at his family's house for lunch quite often. The highlight of the week was on Tuesdays, the day his Nonna made meatballs. Her fried polpette will go down in history as some of the best I've ever eaten.

I can't feel like I'm truly in Venice until I bite into the meatballs served as cicchetti at Ca' d'Oro alla Vedova, a legendary bacaro in the Cannaregio neighborhood. The suspicion of minced garlic, the soft chewy interior revealed under the crisp, breaded crust is enough to make my mouth water at the thought...

meatballs Ca' d'Oro alla Vedova photo © Aperture Tours

In Rome, when not making my own, I embark in impossible-to-find parking in Borgo Pio just for the lemon veal polpettine served at Romolo alla Mole Adriana.

We're carnivores, so the meatballs I make at home use leftover bollito, or ground veal, some are made with fish even. Those who love beef tartare or carne cruda all'albese are served their raw chopped meat in the shape of a patty and variably dressed with taggiasca olives, capers, minced onion, mustard and so on.


Meatball madness doesn't stop at meat however, infact vegetarian polpette are just as popular in my household. Think winter broccoli croquettes, or a personal favorite, polpette di melanzane, eggplant vegetarian meatballs: a recipe published 8 years ago that's still one of my most popular posts to date.

In South Tyrol I learned how to make Knödel, the Alpine version of matzah balls, which––if you think about it––are "meatballs" made with bread. Similar bread-recycling is found in a typical Abruzzo peasant recipe called Pallotte cacio e ove, where instead of costly meat, bread and grated pecorino are bound together with beaten eggs. These are then braised slowly in a rich tomato sauce and served piping hot along with a glass (or five) of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo wine.

pallotte cacio e ove photo © In Cucina con Max e Andre

In the realm of bite-sized fried balls, I cannot forego mentioning the universe of arancini and supplì made with rice, or baccalà and potato croquettes and the famed olive ascolanestuffed olives from Ascoli!

But polpette don't have to be exclusively savory.

Sweet dessert polpette are a sinful treat. One of my favorite ways of repurposing leftover panettone is shredding the crumb, wetting it with some milk and squeezing out the excess moisture before mixing the "dough" with an egg. I shape small bite-sized balls and place them on a greased cookie sheet. In the hot oven they go briefly to develop a golden crust, so no more than 5-7 minutes at 350°F. And it's suddenly Christmas all over again.

Sep 19, 2011

Teriyaki chicken recipe

Image © Elle_Bee

Teriyaki is a Japanese cooking technique in which fish or meats are broiled or grilled in a sweet soy sauce marinade.

I made this the other night and am still dreaming about it. The tangy, sweet first bite, the crisp skin coated with velvety glaze, the moist and delicate meat...

But I can't claim ownership of this wonderful slow-roasted Teriyaki dish. James gets all the glory, and I am forever thankful for his generosity in sharing his mom's sublime recipe.

1 whole broiler chicken, eviscerated, rinsed and dried

for the Teriyaki marinade:

1/2 cup of soy sauce
1/4 cup of sake
1 Tablespoon of sugar
1 Tablespoon of freshly grated ginger
2 cloves of garlic, crushed


Chop the chicken into classic 8 pieces: 2 drumsticks, 2 thighs, 2 breasts, 2 wings. For a lower fat content, better to skin the pieces. But why miss on such a flavoursome ingredient?

Next mix together the soy sauce, sake and sugar in a bowl until the sugar is completely dissolved. Grate in the ginger and add the crushed garlic cloves.

Using a plastic bag big enough to hold all the pieces, slowly pour in all of the marinade, seal it with a twist tie and place it into a bowl. Refrigerate and allow it to marinate overnight. That would be easy if you didn't have to shake and turn the bag every 5-6 hours or so, to marinate evenly.

The next day, preheat oven at 125° C (257° F).

Line a baking dish with aluminum foil. Make sure to lift up the edges to catch the juice (edges should be about 1-inch high). Lay the chicken pieces onto the foil and brush with the leftover marinade.

Place the baking dish in the oven and roast, basting after about 50 minutes. Cook slowly for about 2 hours, checking every 30 minutes (this may vary according to individual ovens). The baked Teriyaki chicken should be a nice golden brown color, slightly crisp on the edges, but not too dry. When the drumstick is poked, juices should run clear.

Sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds, serve with warm sake and white rice. And thank James.

May 16, 2011

Pollo arrosto al limone recipe

This recipe has been in my family ever since I can remember. I have seen variations of it in cookbooks from all over the world, and in various cuisine websites.

When we refer to this dish we usually call it "pollo coi limoni nel c..." alluding to where exactly it is the lemons enter the chicken.

Despite its uncouth name, this dish is always very popular. It's easy to make, and has saved my own culo in the course of many improvised meals, with the unexpected dinner guests routinely licking their fingers and the plate clean.

Image © paperogiallo
Essential to any successful dish–I'll never tire of repeating this–are natural, wholesome ingredients. Choose a healthy chicken, that's not been fed hormones, antibiotics, or animal protein. A bird that's had plenty of time to cluck about in wide, open spaces. I'm lucky enough to have a retailer nearby that sells San Bartolomeo broilers.
Real free-range chickens in the San Bartolomeo farm
The lemons I use are plucked off my mother's tree, two blocks from my apartment, in the garden I grew up in. I know the only thing I scrub off these lemons is dirt. No chemicals, no pesticides, no wax... niente.
Mamma's organic lemons
The ingredient list is short, and the instructions are brief. Please don't let them scare you with things like, 'the mark of a top chef is roast chicken.' This failsafe recipe will guarantee a perfect bird, crisp on the outside, with under it succulent, tender meat.


1 whole chicken, possibly free range
2 organic lemons
1 bouillon cube
Preheat oven at 180° C (350° F).

Burn off any excess feather stubble over the stove and give the bird a nice bath. Carefully towel dry inside and out.

Soften the lemons by rubbing them between your palms (good exercise for cleavage). Cut one lemon in half and poke holes in the other with a fork. Insert the lemons and the stock cube in the chicken, apologizing for intrusiveness.

Seal the opening shut using toothpicks (or poultry skewers) and kitchen string, and then tie the drumsticks together.

Place in a high-rimmed oven pan, and bake for 30 minutes, basting often with resulting juices.

Raise the heat and broil for another 10 minutes. To check final cooking, poke drumstick with a fork: juices should run clear.

This particular recipe's simplicity is directly proportionate to its mouthwatering goodness. It'd be a crime discarding the precious skin.

Buon appetito.

Jun 7, 2010

Swordfish steak recipe

Catania’s fish market is an incredible place, just around the corner from the city's cathedral. The stalls are scattered over an impressive area, under the Carlo V walled tunnel, the open Piazza Alonzo di Benedetto, stretching as far as Piazza Pardo. And although it's called a fish market, 'a piscarìa sells everything.


From 5 a.m. to about noon, the market is always crowded and busy. The overlapping voices of the vendors yelling at each ear–pushing their merchandise in front of your eyes baiting you to buy more, and clients bargaining prices, make you feel like you’ve been sucked into an Arabian souk.

During my sojurn in Catania, what I would go to the Pescheria looking for was, say, a ball of butcher’s twine; and I’d regularly leave with an abundance of fresh produce, herbs, dried fruits, amazing oranges, almonds, and huge swordfish steaks. So flabbergasted by the whole whirlwind of confusion, the assault on the senses with cacophony of sounds, rainbow of colors and assortment of smells, I hardly remember how that would happen.


Swordfish steaks must be eaten super fresh, grilled and cut about 1-inch thick. The slices need to be cooked with the skin intact, as this keeps the scaly flesh well compact. If you don’t want to barbecue, grill the steaks on a hot griddle or in a non-stick oven pan over the hot stove. Heat is key, but no oven please.


Ingredients for 4 guests:

4 swordfish steaks, 1-inch (2 cm) thick
1 tablespoon fresh mint leaves, torn
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
1/2 cup white wine vinegar
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
Salt and cracked black pepper to taste

Baste the swordfish with the mint leaves and garlic in olive oil and white wine vinegar, marinading them briefly before cooking.

Heat the cooking vessel over fierce heat (in this case induction stoves may be too mild) and cook the steaks either on a hot griddle or over the coals, turning them to brown on both sides. Occasionally baste with the marinade.

Cook the swordfish steaks until well seared on the outside, and still tender but not rare on the inside. Slit a small gash in the flesh to check for doneness.

Lightly salt, sprinkle with the sesame seeds and serve at once. Oh, and pass the peppermill, please.


My doctor told me to stop having intimate dinners for four. 
Unless there are three other people. 
–– Orson Welles

Jun 3, 2010

Costata alla Pizzaiola recipe

As you may have noticed, Aglio, Olio & Peperoncino has undergone a few changes. Thank you for being patient while I sorted through links, updated my recipe index, promoted new features and introduced a series of fresh new activities.

Do you wish to keep up to date with Aglio, Olio & Peperoncino's brand new topics, articles, posts and tasty meals? Just sign up for our mailing list in the sidebar! You'll receive a weekly newsletter with our latest activity, plus offers, give-aways, cooking tips, wine notes and upcoming food events.

But enough talk, let's get right to business. Today we're making Costata alla Pizzaiola, a hearty Nepolitan beef rendition that involves the use of oregano enriched pizza-style tomato sauce (hence the name) oozed over a sizzling rib eye steak. Fussy vegetarian-prone children and voracious lovers equally adore.






Ingredients for 4 guests:

4 entrecôtes (steaks cut from between the 9th and 11th rib), or rib eye beefsteak
2 cups canned cherry or Roma tomatoes
3 cloves of garlic, peeled and chopped
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
Oregano (here you can go crazy)
1 teaspoon organic brown sugar

In a wide saucepan, sauté the garlic in 3 tablespoons of olive oil. When it begins to tan, add the tomatoes, a dash of salt, fat pinch of oregano and the sugar. Cook uncovered over medium heat until sauce is no longer watery, about 10-15 minutes.

Heat a griddle to fiery hot and sprinkle with coarse sea salt.

Trim only a little fat off the steak, nick the nerves and broil the meat for a few minutes to rare.

Pour the Pizzaiola sauce over the steak on the griddle and crank up the heat for another minute or two. Spattering will ensue, so be careful.

Transfer to a warm plate and wait 10 minutes before devouring. Keep bread handy for mandatory scarpetta *





* The custom in which a small piece of hand-held breadcrumb mops up any delicious food residue in plate and is eaten on repeat until plate is sweeped clean.

Nov 30, 2009

Involtini al Pomodoro recipe

Cooking trends chase each other like waves, and those who follow the fashions accuse people who prefer traditional regional cuisines of granite immobility. Rather than that, you’ll agree that Italian regional cooking displays continuity, and when the current finger food fad or fusion sushi fashion is long forgotten, people will still be enjoying the traditional family dishes. Like for example, involtini.

Involtini are made all over Italy. But this very easy meat recipe from le Marche is one of my favorite regional unfailing meat roll-ups.
Image courtesy of Forchettina

12 veal or tender beef cutlets, flattened (total weight 500 gr = 1.1 lb)
150 g (3/4 cup) prosciutto, sliced
2 garlic cloves, thinly cut into slivers
400 g (2 cups/14 oz) unseasoned canned tomatoes, crushed
1 glass dry, white wine
A small bunch of Italian flat leaf parsley, finely chopped (optional)
A bunch of fresh basil
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper

If your veal cutlets are more than 1 cm (1/3-inch) thick, gently flatten them out with a meat tenderizer or the blade of your kitchen knife laid flat.

Take the prosciutto, chopped parsley (if you're using it) and a slivers of garlic and combine them, seasoning with salt and pepper. Spread the “filling” over the slices of veal and roll them up, using a couple of toothpicks to hold each involtino shut.

In a skillet large enough to hold all the involtini in a single layer, sauté them in olive oil over a gentle flame, turning them carefully.

When the involtini are evenly browned, pour in the wine and let it evaporate. Add the tomatoes and cook for 20 minutes. If necessary, reduce the tomato sauce by raising the temperature, but in that case remove the involtini from the pan to avoid overcooking. Right before serving them hot, sprinkle the involtini with freshly hand-torn basil leaves. Remember to remove toothpicks before devouring all with crusty bread to sop up the dribbly sauce.

Wine? A nice Conero red or–for those of you who are white wine lovers–a nice Verdicchio di Matelica.

May 6, 2009

Polpette – Meatball recipe


We live in a time where nearly one third of the food the Western world purchases on a weekly basis, is discarded without ever nearing the plate. 

Mounds of costly industrially washed and packaged salad are thrown away by the ton. Loaves of bread harden to rocky, unyielding firmness, forgotten in brown paper bags. Not to mention the precious pesticide-free produce bought at organic farmer’s markets: chucked away, blemished and unused. Gallons of milk go sour on a global scale in bachelor refrigerators worldwide. 

The waste factor is disconcerting. When carelessly over-shopping for our meals, we are sometimes oblivious of the fact that there are countries where staple foods and water are luxury items.


Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio
Still Life with a Basket of Fruit, 1601


When I was living alone in my tiny studio apartment before my son was born, I used to recklessly buy fruit by the crate. Oranges, bananas, apples, grapes, plums, kiwi, papaya, mangoes and pineapples; I would gracefully assemble them in large colorful bowls, and watch them rot. In this age of waste and wicked dietary consumerism, wisdom and wallet prescribe we make an approach towards growing our own produce, forage what Nature provides locally and start recycling leftover foods.

Meatballs are the preeminent meat recycle. Whatever meat is left over can work for polpette, even fish! So yesterday’s roast, leftover beef stew, half a chicken, pork chops, veal cutlets…anything goes. I mince different kinds of meat together, cooked and/or raw, throwing in a few slices of salumi too, to add flavor. This recipe is calculated for an average leftover amount of meat equal to 400 gr (2 cups, or 14 oz). But you can obviously tweak the proportions to your own taste. 

400 g (14 oz) ground meat
1 slice of rustic bread, crust removed
1 glass of whole milk
2 eggs
50 g (1/4 cup) Parmigiano, grated
100 g (1/2 cup) mortadella
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 fresh basil leaves
Breadcrumbs
Salt and pepper

Soak the bread in the milk. Mince the meats in the blender or a food chopper with the eggs, the Parmigiano, garlic, mortadella and the basil, seasoning with salt and freshly milled pepper to taste.

Wring the excess milk out of the bread and add it to the mixture. This is my favorite part: Ravel's Bolero is playing in the background as you transfer the meat mix into a large bowl and begin kneading with your hands, adding all the love and sensual feelings possibly imaginable. Blow kisses and smile as you do this, it adds character to your food. And it turns meatballs into an alluring seductive dish. Shape the polpette into billiard ball-size orbs and coat with breadcrumbs, and flatten them slightly into patties.

While sipping on a chilled glass of lager, heat a good amount of vegetable oil in a large pan and fry the meatballs for 5 minutes, constantly turning to avoid uneven cooking. Cool them on a paper towel and season with more salt if necessary.

Serve with sautéed peas, lavish amounts of mashed potatoes, crusty bread on the side, and wearing nothing but your apron and chef's hat.
Image © misya.info



Buon Appetito!

Share!