Veal

Ask your butcher to saw the knuckle of veal into rounds, retaining the marrow in the center of the bone (as for Italian osso buco). You can buy very good frozen artichokes, which come from Egypt, from Middle Eastern stores. They come in packages weighing 14 ounces and containing about 9 small artichoke bottoms. If you want to use fresh artichoke hearts or bottoms, see page 8. Use young fresh peas or frozen petits pois.

Simple ingredients with complexity and depth add up to an Italian classic. Oh, and did I mention this is mind-blowing? When purchasing the veal shanks, check that they are pink and smell sweet. The most important step in making Osso Buco is browning the meat. This develops a really rich brown color on the meat and adds a ton of flavor to the base of the sauce. Serve with Soft Polenta (page 244) or Garlic-Chive Mashed Potatoes (page 237). The gremolata is also good on a grilled fish.

This is one of those bountiful braises that you make when you want to delight a big table of family or friends, offering them an assortment of tender meats and pasta dressed with the braising sauce. Like other slowly cooked braises, this gives you two courses from one saucepan. Serve pasta dressed with the meaty-tasting tomato sauce as a first course—there’s enough to dress 2 pounds of rigatoni. And then serve the pork, veal, and sausage as a second course. Of course, you don’t have to serve it all for the same meal. Use half the sauce to dress a pound of pasta, freeze the rest, and you have a future meal all ready to go. And after serving the ragù, take any leftover bits and pieces of meat, shred and chop them up, clean the meat from the veal-chop bone, and blend all of it in with any leftover sauce. I bet you’ll have enough sauce with meaty morsels for a lasagna or other baked pasta—yet another meal from that one big braising pan.

This dish showcases the skillful skillet cookery and flavorful pan sauces that delighted me in Umbria. After lightly frying the veal scallops, you start the sauce with a pestata of prosciutto, anchovy, and garlic, build it up with fresh sage, wine, broth, and capers—and then reduce and intensify it to a savory and superb glaze on the scaloppine. Though veal is most prized in this preparation, I have tried substituting scallops of chicken breast and pork; both versions were quick and delicious. Serve the scaloppine over braised spinach, or with braised carrots on the side.

Dress your fresh strangozzi with this meaty, multitextured sauce—ground veal and chopped chicken livers cooked in a tomato base—for a hearty dish that will delight carnivores and pasta-lovers simultaneously. This is also a great sauce to incorporate into risotto. If you are not enthusiastic about the flavor of chicken liver, use only 1/2 pound, for a subtle flavor boost. But if you love the organic richness of livers, as I do, use a whole pound. This recipe makes a big batch of sauce, so you can use half and freeze half (it will keep well for 4 to 6 weeks).

In Umbria, small meatballs are often served simply, floating in a bowl of hot chicken broth. This is a fine custom, in my opinion: it makes the soup more special and substantial, and the broth enhances the carefully homemade meatballs. The diminutive pork-and-veal polpette in this recipe incorporate small amounts of plump raisins, pine nuts, and orange zest—delicate flavors that might be overwhelmed by bold pasta sauce but stand out in a spoonful of light, clear broth. You can either fry or poach the meatballs (the fried have more flavor; the poached are healthier), but either way they are delicious.

This traditional casserole of veal scaloppine is simple and simply delicious, with a multitude of harmonious flavors and textures. The scaloppine are quickly fried, then layered in the pan to bake, moistened with an intense prosciutto-Marsala sauce, and topped by a delicate gratinato of Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano. And though veal is customary, scaloppine of chicken breast, turkey breast, or even pork would be excellent prepared this way. The first step, of frying the meat, can be done in advance, but I recommend that you assemble and bake the casserole just before serving: reheating will toughen the gratinato and accentuate the saltiness of the prosciutto.

In a traditional Ragù alla Bolognese (page 382), the ground meats are slowly cooked with tomatoes and red wine and stock, developing a velvety texture and deep, rich flavor. This “white” ragù streamlines the process and omits most of the tomato, producing a lighter and more delicate sauce with much of the complexity of the classic Bolognese. (And if you want to make it even lighter, you might use ground rabbit meat or turkey or chicken in place of the chopped beef.) Typically used to dress fresh tagliatelle, ragù di carni bianche is also delicious as a sauce for other pastas, lasagna, polenta, and gnocchi. This recipe makes enough sauce to dress two batches of my fresh tagliatelle; use half the sauce for one dinner, and freeze the rest for a great meal to come.

Stuffed veal breast can be found in many regions, but the Genovese preparation, cima alla Genovese, is one of the most distinctive and delicious. It is one of my favorite Ligurian dishes, and whenever I am in Genova I seek it out at the local restaurants. Traditionally, it is a specialty of late spring and summer, because in the natural cycle, calves are mostly birthed in early spring, and the veal will be most tender within the next few months. Appropriately for a summer dish, cima alla Genovese is served at room temperature, accompanied by fresh salsa verde. Here, though, I give you my home version of cima, one that I prepare all year around, whenever I want something special (and convenient) to delight lots of people. Because veal breast of appropriate size can be hard to find, I use veal shoulder and sometimes turkey breast, butterflied and flattened. I wrap the meat around a colorful filling: a big frittata with a medley of vegetables and a row of hard-cooked eggs. Poached in a log shape, the cima cools before it is sliced for serving. It is still always exciting for me (and will be for you) as each slice is revealed, the filling ingredients forming a unique mosaic within a frame of moist, tender meat. The convenience of cima I also love. I can assemble the stuffed veal the night before, cook it early in the morning, and let it rest. Uncut, the roll keeps well (even for several days) and can be served whenever needed, without further cooking. In summer, it makes a fine al fresco lunch or dinner, or a picnic centerpiece. At holiday times, nothing is more beautiful on a buffet. And when there are guests in the house, I serve it at dinner and leave the rest as an elegant anytime snack.

Veal chops are always something of an extravagance, though worth it when well prepared. In this exciting recipe from Valle d’Aosta, thick rib chops are stuffed with the region’s prized fontina, browned, and braised on the stovetop, then baked. The result is quite grand, because the succulent meat and pan sauce are enriched with driblets and hidden pockets of sweet melted fontina. And if you want to go superluxe for a special occasion, shave fresh truffle on top of each chop just before serving. To return to earth, however, let me point out that you can make costolette alla fontina in more modest versions that are absolutely delicious and much easier on the pocketbook. For instance, you can form veal scallopine into envelopes to enclose the fontina, or stuff a veal loin chop, a thick pork chop, or a plump chicken breast in place of the veal rib chop. You may have to adjust the amount of cheese you put inside, and adjust the cooking time at each step to avoid overcooking. But if your meat, wine, olive oil, tomato paste, and broth are of fine quality, and—most important—if you use real fontina (and Grana Padano or Parmigiano-Reggiano), you will produce a splendid dish.

We remember falling in love with a photograph of petits farcis in an old issue of Cuisine e Vins de France We're sure that most chefs of our age who dreamed of cooking professionally since childhood feel the same when they open a vintage copy of Cuisine et Vins de France, or of Georges Blanc's De La Vigne à l'Assiette. There is not greater food era than when Michel Guérard, Bernard Loiseau, Paul Bocuse, Alain Chapel, Georges Blanc and Roger Vergé were at the top. Petits Farcis are vegetables stuffed with sausage mix, then baked and eaten lukewarm. We make them in the summer when the growers show up with pattypan squashes. What else are you supposed to do with those little squashes other than admire them? The stuffed vegetables are awesome with a mâche salad and partner perfectly with a nice rosé or pastis. Get the smallest vegetables you can find, about the size of a gold ball.

This is a good summer recipe. I sear the chops briefly on a very hot grill and then transfer them to a warm oven, where they continue to cook slowly in their own residual heat. The sauce, a simple mixture of onion, capers, lemon juice, and olive oil, is made separately and the chops are coated with it before they are served. Be sure you don't overcook the chops. Although veal is not served rare, as beef is, it should be slightly pink inside and juicy throughout. Chicken or even a piece of fish also goes well with the caper and sage sauce.

This show-stopping presentation is for wowing guests when you only have a few minutes to prep and get something into the oven. Make sure you have butcher's twine on hand for tying the roast.
Meat
Non-gebrokts

I open the braising chapter with one of Italy's most renowned braises: osso buco. It's a classic Milanese dish usually made with veal shanks cooked in a rich broth that includes tomato and wine. I salt the meat before cooking it, a technique that tenderizes the veal. The dish is finished with lemon zest and parsley, which stand in for the more common gremolata that often accompanies it, along with saffron risotto. The term ossobuco roughly translates to "hole in the bone" or "pierced bone." I suggest you tie the shanks before cooking them so that they hold together—and don't forget to dig into the bones for the luscious bone marrow.

Editor's note: Serve this veal with Chef John Besh's Jalapeño Cheese Grits . Grillades is a Creole version of pot roast; the meat is sliced or pounded thin, then slow-cooked in a pungent sauce. If veal shoulder isn't available, substitute boneless, sliced Boston butts of pork. Sure, you can use a leaner cut of veal (and if you do, you'll want to cut the cooking time down by half). But I encourage you to find those cheaper cuts of meat that have much more flavor than either the loin or the leg.

Burgers made from ground veal won't cost much more—and, in fact, may cost less—than those made from ground beef. They also have a delicacy that is difficult to match. Eggplant braised until it's luxuriously tender is a great textural contrast to the crisp exterior of the veal burgers.

We had lots of apple trees of many varieties in our orchards, and the supply would last for the whole winter. Mostly I had them for a snack or in a dessert, but here's one use in a main course that's a winner. It's incredibly easy yet nutritionally complete. I rather love mixing the sweet carb with the fat and protein in delicious defiance of current diet ideology.

Prepared mustard is about as underappreciated as a staple could be. After all, it’s fat-free, low in calories, and high in flavor. Despite these assets, its main role in most households is as a condiment for meat and, perhaps, as an occasional ingredient in vinaigrette. In this chicken dish, however—essentially broiled chicken smeared with a spicy mustard paste—it plays a leading role. You can make this dish with chicken breasts if you prefer, but I recommend starting with bone-in breasts and following the same procedure. If you want to use skinless, boneless breasts (forget about crispness), smear the meat all over with the mustard mixture, then broil for just about six minutes, turning two or three times to prevent burning.

This recipe was shared with Epicurious by Chef Joseph W. DiPerri of The Culinary Institute of America.

This comforting dish marries the simplicity of meatloaf with the flavor and depth of a French pâté. Leftover slices naturally make terrific sandwiches, but they're also wonderful panfried in olive oil.

Tender veal shanks get great depth of flavor from lecsó, a kind of Hungarian sofrito of sautéed onions, frying peppers, and tomatoes, to which paprika and, in this case, stock are added. (Grimes found that Cubanelle peppers are the best substitute for the long, yellowish-green peppers found throughout Hungary.) Finished with sour cream, the sauce yields more than you need, but you'll be happy to have leftovers to serve over noodles, chicken, or pork.

The word "meunière" is a reference to the miller of wheat, whose wife (acccording to French lore) cooked everything coated with flour. The original French style of trout meunière, then, was seasoned and floured, sautéd in butter, and then topped with the browned butter from the pan. This is still more or less how the dish is done in some restaurants—notably Galatoire's. There is a New Orleans twist on this, however, and I think it's better than the French classic. It was invented by "Count" Arnaud, who, while trying to standardize and stabilize the sauce so the fish could be fried instead of sautéd, added a bit of stock and roux to the butter and lemon. At its best, this sauce is incredibly good and works not just on trout but also on other fried seafood, notably oysters.

Using stocks in place of water in a recipe gives an added dimension of flavor, so they're well worth making and using if you can. Many of the stocks in this book are described within the recipes, but here is a general method of making a variety of stocks. The key to making good stock is to simmer it very slowly for a long time, with only a few bubbles breaking on top of the pot. Slow-cooked stocks come out clear and full of flavor. The longer you cook a stock, the more intense it gets and the less of it you need in a recipe. Stocks hold up for a few days in the refrigerator or for a long time if well sealed in a freezer. Many cooks freeze stock in ice-cube trays, so they can slip out a few cubes and add it to recipes conveniently. Canned chicken stock can be used if you don't have your own. It's not as good, but it's acceptable. Canned beef stock is not very good, and I wouldn't recommend using it.

Chicken cacciatore is a ubiquitous dish in Italian-American restaurants, but we think it is even more delicious when made with veal shoulder roast. Slowly braising the meat in a heady tomato sauce enriched with pancetta, olives, and porcini produces a dish so good, you'll find yourself sneaking nibbles all the way to the table. It's even better the next day—if you can contain yourself.