Squid

I have seen stuffed squid recipes with forty ingredients, and some are quite good; often, they contain squid ink, which—though hard to find (or to collect from the squid’s sacs)—is undeniably delicious. But those recipes are too time consuming for me. Still, squid—like piquillo peppers—seem to have been created for stuffing. So, over the years, I have devised this simple, sensible procedure, which produces a stuffed squid much like the one I was served a couple of years ago in northern Spain. Beware that squid shrinks significantly during cooking, so be careful to stuff it very loosely; over stuffing may result in burst squid. Great with Peasant-Style Potatoes (page 477) or Potatoes with Bay Leaves (page 481).

The presence of artichokes in Liguria (the “Italian Riviera”) is enough to make you envious; they’re everywhere, they’re good, and everyone seems to know what to do with them. Here’s a simple dish, assuming you can get your hands on some good artichoke hearts. This is wonderful with either crusty bread or a simple rice dish, like Rice with Onions, Garlic, and Herbs (page 518). See page 98 for squid cleaning instructions if you need them.

Among my favorite squid dishes. Although sautéing, stir-frying, and deep-frying are good, fast techniques for squid, they tend to be messy because of squid’s marked tendency to spatter when cooked in oil. A gentle braise in flavorful liquid and seasonings is the perfect alternative, and this one, with its Provençal spirit, is delicious and warming. See page 98 if you buy squid that hasn’t been cleaned. Crusty bread is a must; keep the vegetable simple.

A very, very fast dish, because the squid must be cooked only briefly to prevent toughness. So make your side dishes first; rice is the natural choice, and it will keep perfectly well over low heat while you stir-fry. Thai basil is so unlike Italian basil that they might as well be different herbs; not only does the Thai variety look different, but it is infinitely mintier. If you’re using Italian basil, therefore, you might consider adding a small handful of mint leaves. See page 500 for information on Thai fish sauce (nam pla). If your squid hasn’t already been cleaned, see page 98.

Though there are similar rice-and-squid-ink dishes throughout the northern Mediterranean, I was introduced to this dish by a Croatian, so it is that country that gets the credit; Spaniards and Italians will no doubt be offended. The origins hardly matter, however; this is a wonderful and intensely flavorful dish. It’s unusual, too, for a few reasons: it’s a no-stir (or, to be more precise, a low-stir) risotto; it’s jet black; and it combines cheese and seafood, which is not exactly common and, for many of us—usually including me—a no-no. But it’s also easy, delicious, and striking, a perfect dish for entertaining. Serve it with a simple salad, a white wine from northeastern Italy, Austria, or, if you can find one, Croatia, and fresh fruit for dessert. You can find squid ink in small packages at fancy fish markets or European specialty shops (or, of course, on the Internet); it’s shelf-stable though it must be refrigerated and relatively inexpensive. And though its taste is pure squid, it’s the dramatic color that matters most.

Non-Japanese may think of this as Japanese paella. Like paella, it may be made with or without seafood. Like paella, it relies on good ingredients, including rice and stock, and, like paella, it’s pretty straightforward to prepare and easy to vary. (You can make the recipe below not only with chicken but with almost any combination of seafood. You can also make it with vegetables; see page 510.) There is, however, a critical difference. Whereas paella usually relies on chicken stock, wine, and tomatoes, Kayaku Gohan (along with, it seems, about a million other dishes in Japan) uses dashi. This isn’t a problem, since dashi is easily made, as long as you stock kelp, a dried seaweed also known as kombu, and dried bonito flakes (bonito is related to tuna). Fortunately, each of these ingredients keeps forever, and each is readily available at Asian markets.

These are not “grilled” at all but cooked on a plancha, a hot flat-top griddle similar to those used by short order chefs. But you can grill them, too. Both ways work fine, but in either case the heat should be very intense and the cooking time very short. The squid should be the smallest you can find, preferably about the size of an average adult’s thumb.

Like Tempura (page 91), the Fritto Misto batter and technique can be used with almost any morsel of food. An old-fashioned Fritto Misto might have bits of veal or other meat, frog’s legs, cock’s combs, artichoke hearts, chanterelles or other mushrooms, zucchini or other vegetables, pieces of cheese, and, of course, fish. These days, it seems most people—including me—like a fish-based Fritto Misto, with perhaps a few pieces of vegetable thrown in. I have some suggestions here, but please use whatever you like. Because you’ll have to fry in batches, and because it’s good only when very hot, it’s best to serve Fritto Misto as an appetizer and usually only to those guests who are willing to stand around in the kitchen. I don’t think Fritto Misto needs more than fresh lemon as a “sauce,” but you can use aïoli or even a light tomato sauce if you like.

Wherever you find octopus, you find grilled octopus, though it is most closely associated with Greece, where it is prepared wonderfully. Most octopus in the U.S. is sold frozen, so make sure you think ahead (the benefit is that frozen octopus is also cleaned octopus). If you buy fresh, be sure to ask to have it cleaned or be prepared to do it yourself. One more thing: Allow plenty of time for simmering until the octopus becomes tender—it’s a simple but usually time-consuming process. (Sometimes octopus becomes tender quickly—but it’s an unpredictable occurrence, not something you can count on.)

True Ceviche (page 21) “cooks” fish by marinating it in an acidic dressing. But there is a similar dish in which the fish is simmered in boiling water first; it’s used most frequently with seafood that is tough when raw, but it’s also used—at least in this country—as a form of reassurance. It’s a bit of a cheat, but so what? There is little difference between the texture or quality of fish that has been marinated in lime and that of fish that has been cooked quickly (which is why marinating in lime is perfectly acceptable in the first place). Like all ceviche, this is a great starter.

Fried calamari is one of my favorite foods. When it is lightly floured and cooked in fresh oil, rather than in a constantly reused deep-fryer, it is spectacular. But, sadly enough, I have found it to be one of the most poorly made dishes on my travels across the United States. So, if you long for good fried calamari, make yourself a batch at home. Here is my simple recipe.

Whenever stuffing anything, one may be tempted to overstuff. Well, the elegance in this dish is to stuff the calamari lightly. When you cook fish or meat, remember that it always tightens a bit, and if there is too much stuffing, it bursts out. So keep it light—follow the recipe.

I have had squid prepared many ways, but never in a Milanese cutlet style until Tanya and I encountered this dish on our trip to San Diego when we went to Anthony’s Fish Grotto. The calamari cutlet was a thick slab, like a veal cutlet, quite different in size from the smaller version of calamari I am accustomed to cooking on the East Coast, and yet very tender. This popular calamari may be up to 2 feet in length; the giant squid can get to approximately 43 feet; in 2003, a colossal species of squid was discovered that can be upward of 46 feet. I’m not sure which calamari was used for my Milanese at Anthony’s, but it was very good; I tested the recipe with the traditional-sized calamari, and it worked deliciously.

There was a time when calamari was not much consumed in America and it was considered a cheap fish. But Italians love calamari, and it became the fish of choice of the Italian immigrants. You can find calamari today as a delicacy in contemporary restaurants of every ethnicity. Spicy calamari with linguine is a trademark of Italian American restaurants all over America.

Seafood salad is common in Italian American households, especially on Christmas Eve, La Vigilia, and almost always as an appetizer on menus in Italian American restaurants. As popular as the seafood salad is in the United States, in Italy one is more likely to find a simple salad like this version, containing one kind of seafood. What is most important in this recipe is not to overcook the calamari.

This is the warm salad we enjoyed at Manfredi Barbera’s as one of the appetizers. It is also delicious at room temperature—and in the heat of summer, it makes a marvelous main course or an accompaniment (contorno) to grilled fish or chicken.

Though this recipe sounds straight out of a Coen brothers’ movie, the name refers to the fact that you chop off the squids’ arms and stuff them inside their own bodies. Trust me—this is my kind of punishment. I use cooked Controne beans as a binder instead of breadcrumbs, ensuring the filling is creamy and light, and I add slab bacon for a hit of smoke and texture. When you grill the tentacles, remember that you’re just precooking them and don’t leave them on the heat too long. Another key to this dish is ensuring that your filling is at room temperature before you stuff the squid. If it’s too cold, you’ll overcook the bodies while you heat the stuffing through. If you want to stuff the squid earlier in the day, just take them out of the fridge about a half hour before grilling.

Maloreddus are delicate, saffron-infused pasta with a lovely golden hue and a hint of warmth from the saffron. They are especially good paired with fish or seafood, and lend themselves well to sweet and sour combinations, like this dish featuring a light, fresh tomato sauce accented with lemon and briny olives. You can find maloreddus in Italian specialty stores or through online sources.

A great way to cook shrimp is to grill them whole, with heads and shells intact. The unpeeled shrimp cook in their own juices, staying moist, and the shells pick up a little char, releasing a sweet, toasty aroma. Since I also like grilled squid, I often serve a mixed grill of squid and shrimp. Squid with tubes only about five inches long are especially tender. The best shrimp to grill are big white ones that have edible thin shells. To find them, head to an Asian market, where you will also find the squid. Before cooking the shrimp, follow Vietnamese tradition and neatly trim them. Then, cut the squid to create fringe that will curl back during grilling, to resemble trumpet flowers. I recommend cleaning the squid yourself because the flavor is superior to that of precleaned squid. To create a full menu, add one of the canh soups (pages 58 to 66) and some grilled summer squash (see the Note that accompanies Grilled Chicken on page 81).

As you fry these stuffed squid, the fragrant aromas that rise from the pan will have you dreaming of enjoying them along with a cold beer. Many Vietnamese cooks add minced garlic to the stuffing, but our family prefers ginger, a nod to ginger-centric northern Vietnam. The tart, spicy, salty dipping sauce heightens the flavors in the stuffing. Select young, fresh squid with bodies about five inches long, not including the tentacles. For the best flavor, clean the squid yourself, rather than buying them already cleaned. Because both squid sizes and a cook’s stuffing technique can vary, this recipe makes more stuffing than you will need. If only a little is left over, discard it. If there is a fair amount, mix in an egg or two and fry up into an omelet (see Pork and Mushroom Omelet, page 97, for cooking instructions).