Ham

Vegetable stock is an essential ingredient in many vegetarian soups, but it also provides incomparable flavor to many well-loved vegetable (but not necessarily meat-free) soups such as this one. Minestrone has become so familiar in the American kitchen that it might be easy to forget its Italian origins. But the name—minestre is the word for soup, while the suffix (-one) indicates bigness—hints at its universal appeal as a simple pantry-based soup that is also hearty and substantial. The foundation of flavor, called a soffritto, is a common element in soup-making: a trio of celery, carrots, and onion is sautéed first, then stock and more vegetables are added and slowly simmered to coax out their flavors. Beans are what distinguish minestrone from other vegetable soups; the type varies by region, as does the addition (if any) of pasta or rice (this version has neither). The beans are also what give the soup such heft, making it a good option for a meatless one-pot dish (if you leave out the prosciutto) that can stand as the centerpiece of any casual dinner. The beans need to soak overnight in the refrigerator, so plan accordingly. Then they need to boil for at least a half hour, so use that time to prepare the rest of the ingredients for the soffritto and soup.

This classic pizza is a Margherita with prosciutto draped on the pizza after it comes out of the oven. I added arugula because I love the combination of arugula and prosciutto.

I created this pizza, an upgraded take on “Hawaiian pizza,” typically made with Canadian bacon and canned pineapple, for my son, Ben. When he was growing up, that’s the pizza he always ordered and I cringed at the combination every time. When I opened up my own pizzeria, I wanted to come up with a pizza using the same or similar ingredients that would please both Ben and me. We start with fresh pineapple and slice it paperthin so it caramelizes in the oven, and we use speck in place of Canadian bacon. But what I think really makes this pizza is the addition of jalapeño peppers. Their heat cuts through the sweetness of the pineapple.

Brussels sprouts get a bad rap. People say they hate Brussels sprouts more than any other food, other than lima beans; in both cases, I believe the reason is that the vegetables are so rarely prepared well. We sear our Brussels sprouts so they get nicely browned while maintaining their unique texture and vibrant green color, then we toss them in sherry vinaigrette and top them with bread crumbs laced with prosciutto and herbs. Judging by the number of people who absolutely love these, I would say we have converted many a Brussels sprout hater with this preparation. The recipe for the prosciutto bread crumbs makes about 1 cup, which is more than you will need for this dish, but since it calls for such a variety of herbs, it seems silly to make a smaller portion and have so many herbs left over—better to have the bread crumbs left over. They are delicious sprinkled on any roasted vegetables. If you don’t have time to prepare the bread crumbs, the Brussels sprouts are still delicious without them.

We exclusively use Umbrian lentils in our restaurants, which are smaller than common brown lentils and are various shades of brown to green. Castelluccio, the town where the lentils come from, is a two-and-a-half-hour, winding, hilly drive over the Apennine Mountains from my house. Once you get there, you don’t feel like you’re in Umbria—or Italy—at all. There are no sunflowers. No rolling green hills. The landscape is crater-like, with fields and fields of flowering lentils. It feels more like you’re on the moon, or in Oz. When I visited with a group of friends, we ate lunch at the one trattoria in town. Of course they offered lentils, and I was surprised to find them cooked in a much heartier way than I had ever seen lentils prepared before, almost like a stew or a ragù, with pork sausage, another delicacy of that region. This is Matt’s rendition of the lentils we had that day.

The first place I was served fava bean pods, as opposed to shelled beans, was at Zuni Café in San Francisco. When they came to the table, I thought it was such an interesting idea, and when I tasted them I found them delicious. When you serve them this way, you want to use only tender, young, small pods, as larger pods will be tough and fibrous. If you can’t get young fave, use jumbo asparagus instead. In either case, this is a spring dish.

One of my favorite daytrips from my house in Italy is to the town of Panzano in Chianti, to visit the world-famous butcher Dario Cecchini. Dario has been covered by every food publication imaginable, and since Bill Buford wrote about him in his memoir, Heat, Dario’s shop has become a mecca for foodies traveling in Italy. To meet the demand of his fans, Dario now has three restaurants that people can visit while they’re there: a steakhouse serving prime cuts, such as bistecca fiorentina, a classic preparation of a T-bone or porterhouse grilled over a wood fire; a hamburger restaurant, Dario Plus; and my favorite of the three, Solo Ciccia. This restaurant, whose name means “only meat,” offers lesser cuts of meats prepared in a variety of ways, many of them cooked long and slow, or stracotto, like this dish. Veal breast isn’t something you’ll find at your average grocery store, so you’ll have to get it from a butcher, and you will probably have to special-order it. Ask the butcher to save the bones he carved the breast from, as you’ll use those to make the stock in which the meat is braised. While you’re at it, have him roll and tie the breast for you, too. Even though this might be out of your ordinary shopping routine, the good news is that you’ll end up with a rich, luxurious veal dish for not a lot of money.

Pan con tomate is a Catalan creation of grilled bread rubbed with garlic and raw tomato pulp, doused with olive oil, and sprinkled with coarse salt—and one of my favorite things to order at a tapas bar. So how do you serve your favorite Spanish snack at an Italian mozzarella bar? Add mozzarella, of course, or in this case, burrata, and give it an Italian name. We offer this dish only during tomato season. If the tomatoes have no flavor, the tomato bread will also have no flavor. And despite all the other delicious components, which include speck, pickled shallots, and tomato vinaigrette, the bread is, without question, the star. The recipe for the shallots makes more than you will need for this recipe, but they will keep for several weeks. Use the leftovers to make this recipe another time, or on sandwiches or grilled meat.

Peas, Parmigiano, and prosciutto are a combination that you see often in Italy, and one that, to me, says spring. The way we plate this dish it looks like a bird’s nest, with half of a ball of burrata nestled into folds of speck, topped with a pile of peas, and then covered with a light dusting of Parmigiano that looks like fresh fallen snow. Although I prefer the smoky flavor of the speck, prosciutto is a fine substitute.

At the restaurant we call these Love Sticks, because everyone loves them so much. Before I tried them, I might have thought it was lily gilding to serve butter with prosciutto, even though ham and butter has always been one of my favorite sandwich combinations. And I never would have considered truffles and prosciutto together, because truffles are so pungent and are usually paired with mild flavors. In fact, the combination is so perfect that I’m sorry to have to admit that I did not invent it. These are something Matt brought home from Del Posto. They are also really fun to eat and make for the ideal handheld appetizer. If you have leftover truffle butter, wrap what you don’t use tightly in plastic and refrigerate to make Love Sticks, spread it on a ham sandwich, or shave it over scrambled eggs. It will last for several days, after which the truffle flavor may begin to fade.

Using both Gruyère and fontina gives this savory dish complex flavor—and they melt beautifully. If you use only Gruyère, just double the amount. You can assemble most of this dish up to 1 day ahead and refrigerate, covered; then add the batter, and bake.

If baby beets are not available, use large beets cut into 1-inch chunks.

One to two hours before baking, remove the ham from the refrigerator and let it come to room temperature.