Dandelion Greens

Every traveler to Italy’s countryside tells stories about elderly couples seen out on the hillsides scavenging for greens. One of the things they do with the greens is fill pasta. One of my favorite quotes about ravioli was from a friend: “The older my grandmother gets, the bigger her ravioli.” If you’re unskilled, start with big ones; you will be far more successful. Remember that in Italy there have long been people—women, it’s safe to guess—who specialize in handmade pasta; it is a skill and an art, and unless you practice frequently, you’re not likely to get good at it. But it can be fun, and you can always choose to make cannelloni; see page 545.

Working the line in a restaurant is usually challenging, often miserable, but always an absolute adrenalin-filled rush. When dinner service is going at full throttle, the only option is to do as instructed by the expediter and hang on. This is a version of an appetizer served from my station many years ago while I was interning for chef Nora Pouillon at her Restaurant Nora, in Washington, D.C. She was an amazing role model for me: not only was she an industry leader and a woman, but also a pioneer in the organic movement. Her restaurant was the first in America to be certified organic. Fresh mozzarella is radically different from the hard “pizza” cheese commonly found in supermarket refrigerator cases. The fresh version, in the form of balls packed in lightly salted brine or whey, is increasingly available in many local markets.

When I worked at Savoy in SoHo, we had salt-roasted duck on the menu but we served only the breasts, so there was always an excess of duck legs hanging around. We’d eat the legs at our family meal, but after a while everyone was sick of them. Then one night, I was in a pinch for an hors d’oeuvres idea, and that’s when I came up with my cheater’s confit. As they say, desperation can be inspiration! My confit tastes just as good and authentic as a traditional confit, but it’s SOOOOO much faster. As far as I’m concerned, the time you save with my recipe is outstanding (this is one streamlined operation!) and so is the flavor.

I don’t think there’s anything terribly exciting about grilled scallops—but I do think you can put them together with interesting ingredients and make them exciting. That’s why I pair scallops with—wait for it—watermelon! I know, who would think of putting scallops with watermelon, let alone three kinds (watermelon, watermelon rind pickles, and watermelon radishes)? It may seem wacky, but the sweetness of the watermelon offset by the bitterness of the dandelion and the sharp red onion makes this a spectacular combo. And, if you’re thinking ahead (like we always try to do!), make the pickles a day (or a week) in advance and keep them in the fridge. These pickles make anything taste tangy and delicious; I keep a jar on hand for whenever a salad or sammie needs an extra little pickle-y punch!

What a nickname, Good Donny. It’s a nickname most people couldn’t live up to. His grandkids gave him that one and nobody has found grounds to disagree. Like the name implies, he’s a good guy. Good Donny’s son, Benji, came by wielding some of the best pork cracklings we’d ever had. They were the perfect salty blend of tender, crisp, and crunch. Benji went on and on about how he had to beg Good Donny to give him just half a bag. Turns out that a friend of Good Donny’s makes them and this friend is getting on up in age, meaning every batch might be the last. You would have thought Benji was passing out gold doubloons. Next time we saw Good Donny we made a point to tell him how crazy we were for those cracklings. The following day, Donny showed up with five pint bags full of those golden crispy treasures. When Benji came by a few days later, my husband, Donald, retrieved a bag that he had hidden away. Benji was beside himself with envy.

This is a great sandwich to make with leftovers (in this case, leftover pork loin). One of the key elements in this sandwich is the choice of greens. Dandelion greens are bitter, but balance the other flavors of prunes and mustard. If the greens are not to your liking, either try buying smaller-leafed dandelion greens (the larger the leaf, the more pronouncedly bitter) or substitute mustard greens or endive.

While this sandwich is not one of our top sellers, it has its fervent followers, like those of the anchovy sandwich (see page 68). Taking our inspiration from the traditional New Orleans muffaletta—the sandwich of salty meats and tangy olive salad on a thick round roll—we often pair a fresh smoked salami similar to a sopressata with a drier saucisson sec. But you can customize your sandwich for your palate with your own favorites: prosciutto, mortadella, pancetta—any salumi will stand up nicely to the myriad flavors that burst from the marinated cauliflower salad. Don’t let the name cauliflower dissuade you—this is not the boiled bane of your childhood. Rather, it’s a textured mix of tastes in a bold marinade, with raisins and caraway seeds.

This is a mix-up of pasta e fagioli and minestra. Again, my indecisiveness is at play.

Here’s another meal that’s good for B, L, or D: Breakfast, Lunch, or Dinner. This one is for my gran’pa.

The wilderness is filled with greens, from grassy glade and mossy rock to the leaves upon the trees. But how to celebrate this verdant splendor, when one eats neither grass nor moss, neither leaf-lined branch nor bud? The salad bowl is just the place for a pageant of greenery, as one can fill it with a tender mix of lush edibles scooped from the field. We prefer a wild salad to be austerely dressed; too much accessorizing can distract from its simple beauty. A drizzle of lemon and oil and perhaps a scattering of edible blooms are all that are needed here.

For Donatella, fava beans were an acquired taste. "When I was a child, I hated them," she says. She’s come around to the hearty, healthy bean and has always been a fan of dandelion greens, an ingredient that many Italians believe calms the stomach. Timing note: The favas need to soak overnight.

We found the greens for this salad by foraging in the woods and fields. You can forage farmers’ markets for tender young dandelion greens, purslane, wild fennel, and pea shoots to make a tasty salad. Even your refrigerator or kitchen garden might yield some goodies, like chives, tender young Italian parsley, thinly sliced red cabbage, or the yellow leaves from celery hearts.

Here's an updated version of a classic comfort-food casserole.

Cicoria is a standard cooked green on menus all over Italy—it has a pleasing bitterness that's offset by the richness of the oil it's sautéed in. Sadly, it's hard to find that kind of chicory in America, but dandelion greens make a nice substitute.

Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are adapted from Molto Italiano by Mario Batali. It's part of a special menu created by Lidia Bastianich and Mario Batali for Epicurious's Wine.Dine.Donate program. Scarola alle Acciughe There are basically two ways of cooking greens: the long, slow method, and this one, where much of their water content is still present, leaving the leaves with a definite chew.

Instead of the usual approach of topping dandelion greens with hot bacon dressing, here we tame the greens' bitter bite with a Spanish-inspired dressing flavored with almonds, raisins, and Sherry.

This dish is a take on the bistro classic frisée salad with lardons. We recommend removing the ribs from the dandelion greens; though it's a rather lengthy process, the result will be much more delicate.

This is not the salad with feta and olives that most Americans know, but a version popular in the Greek countryside that typically includes a few wild greens foraged from the land. Active time: 30 min Start to finish: 30 min

This recipe is very adaptable. You can use whatever quantities of mustard and dandelion greens and spinach you happen to have on hand—just keep the total amount of greens the same. Active time: 50 min Start to finish: 50 min

Salmon fillets can be substituted for the char. For a shortcut version of the horseradish cream, just mix 3/4 cup heavy whipping cream with prepared white horseradish to taste.