Bakeries in Cagliari, the capital of Sardinia, all sell these classic almond cookies, each garnished with a single almond in the center.
I questioned whether I should include yet another recipe for amaretti—they are sprinkled throughout this book, and the ingredients for most of them are more or less identical. And yet, the results are all quite distinct, thanks to differences in the handling of those ingredients. In fact, it was eye-opening, as I researched this book, to see how many different and unique iterations the same set of ingredients could create.
In the end, I am glad I included these. They are easy to make and they have a particular appeal, puffing up beautifully in the oven and forming small telltale cracks on their sugared surfaces. They are crunchy on the outside and tender and chewy within. Use the freshest almonds you can find to give these cookies their due. Sardinians use a special nut grinder to achieve the correct texture, but a food processor works well. Note that the dough benefits from an overnight rest in the refrigerator, so start them a day before you plan to serve them.
This giant crumbly cookie is a specialty of Mantua, in Lombardy. But I first tasted it at a cooking class at the home of a chef from Parma, in Emilia-Romagna, where it is also popular. This makes sense, as Parma is just about an hour south of Mantua, and popular cookies tend to travel beyond their place of origin.
Also known as torta sbrisolona, the name of this cookie roughly translates to “crumbly cake.” It comes from the verb sbricolare, which means “to crumble.” The cookie was once upon a time prepared by farmers using simple ingredients that they were likely to have on hand—flour, cornmeal, sugar, a little lard or butter, and almonds. It was eaten as a snack to revive them after a long morning of work.
When assembling your sbrisolona, resist patting the sandy dough into the pan too firmly. It needs to be loosely packed in order to yield that fall-apart texture that makes it so irresistible. Once baked, it is customary to break this cookie into irregular pieces for serving, though you can cut it with a knife for a neater presentation.
If you ask me what my last supper would include, this dish would absolutely make the list. It features a combination of some of my favorite ingredients: lemon, Parmesan, garlic, and butter. I’ve been making this dish for weeknight dinners for over 20 years, especially on Mondays as it’s a good way to use up any sesame bagels or baguettes left over from the weekend.
Tarte Tatin
All dishes with leeks have dual nationality in my family. My grandfather, Gheorghe, was from Oltenia, where leeks are considered a culinary symbol, and I now live in Wales, UK, where they play a similar role. What a coincidence.
This stew is very popular, especially during Lent (skipping the wine) and I love it for its sweet-tangy notes and how quickly it comes together. It is usually served with bread, but I've heard that burghul wheat and rice are also common south of the Danube.
This one-pan wonder is a creamy skillet of tiny grains of orzo pasta that cook up in a snap, making it a go-to for weeknights. The contrast of the zingy lemon with the earthy thyme-infused charred broccoli creates chef-level depth of flavor in minutes. For an extra touch, garnish with lemon wheels and serve it straight from the skillet at the table. (Then it’s front and center for grabbing seconds!)
A lemon tart is a beautifully delicate dessert. It’s not too in-your-face but can certainly hold its own. A good lemon tart should have a well-pronounced lemon flavour but it shouldn’t be so tart that it makes you wince (as did my first few attempts of this tart). The silky, buttery filling is zingy and fresh and would be perfect for a springtime evening dessert. A lightly infused basil cream brings some fragrance and playfulness that keeps people going back in for a second or third slice. For a bit of extra frill, I like to blitz some leftover basil leaves in a food processor with caster sugar and sprinkle it on top.
It will be completely un-shocking that my visit to Japan was more cake-centric, less fish-focused. I ate the flooffiest pumpkin doughnuts, elegant apple shortbread cookie sandwiches, silky coffee caramel flan and cheesecake. At the tiny pastry shop Equal Pastryshop, I ate a strawberry shortcake whose perfection made me want to hang up my apron, because if such baking beauty already exists in this world, then my efforts are futile.
The Japanese shortcake is their refined version of the American shortcake and is layers of dairy-rich sponge, cream and strawberries. Eating it feels like hugging a puppy, the first day of t-shirt weather in spring and knowing you are loved all at once.
Cake
This is a meatless riff on one of my all-time favorite sheet pan dinners: a spicy harissa-slathered chicken loaded with lemony leeks, crispy potatoes, and a salty, garlicky yogurt topping. Here, roasted cauliflower stands in for the poultry, and almonds are tossed in for crunch. Added bonus: without the chicken, this lively, highly festive meal comes together in a flash.