This is real carbonara—pasta coated in an impossibly creamy but very much cream free sauce made from egg, guanciale, pepper, and pecorino.
My mom adapted this from her Italian mother-in-law’s whole steamed artichoke recipe (see page 232) to make a dish that easily feeds a crowd. It uses the same flavors but eliminates the prep work required for whole artichokes and capitalizes on that mid- twentieth-century game-changer—frozen food—in the form of a package of frozen artichoke hearts. As in many ethnic families who have added their personal flavor to the standard Thanksgiving meal fare, this is my family’s “Italian” staple side dish and the first leftover scavenged the next day.
My children call out for this as soon as they see new potatoes coming in from the garden.
This rich pasta, coated with green olives and garlic sautéed in butter, is simple to prepare. Lemon adds acidity for balance, while the burrata and the warm pappardelle create a creamy finish.
Having eaten hundreds of versions of this Roman classic in restaurants and in the homes of friends, I finally came up with a method that guarantees a perfect Cacio e Pepe.
So many of my favorite dishes are connected to memories from years ago, if not decades ago, and this is one of them. My son always loved a good meatball soup, and when Wolfie was a little boy and I didn’t feel like cooking, I opened a can of Progresso Chickarina soup. It’s regarded by many as the greatest tasting soup ever sold in a can, right up there next to Campbell’s classic tomato soup. Years ago the grocery stores in my neighborhood quit carrying the chickarina soup, which led me on a quest to make my own—and all I can say is thank goodness I set out on that journey. The meatballs are the key to my version; they’re tiny and sticky and decidedly unlike those you’d make for spaghetti and meatballs or turkey meatball soup. They have a unique consistency, enabling them to cook differently in the chicken broth. They end up as tasty little puffs. And yes, this requires an investment in time, mostly to make the meatballs. But it’s worth the wait. This is comfort food at its finest—a perfect call for lunch or dinner on the coldest day of the year. Or take it in a thermos on an outdoor adventure—a widemouthed thermos, of course.
To create stovetop Brussels sprouts that were deeply browned on the cut sides while still bright green on the uncut sides and crisp-tender within, we started the sprouts in a cold skillet with plenty of oil and cooked them covered. This gently heated the sprouts and created a steamy environment that cooked them through without adding any extra moisture. We then removed the lid and continued to cook the sprouts cut sides down so they had time to develop a substantial, caramelized crust. Using enough oil to completely coat the skillet ensured that all the sprouts made full contact with the fat to brown evenly from edge to edge.
Ingredients