​The late Marcella Hazan helped to popularize a more authentic Italian cuisine in this country beginning in the 1970s, especially for dishes from her native region of Emilia-Romagna.  Among the very greatest of those dishes is the ragù bolognese, the slowly cooked meat sauce named after the city of Bologna meant to be served with freshly made pasta.  Hazan has an excellent version in her Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, related in her usual authoritative, or didactic, fashion.  Below is a slightly modified version that I’ve used to great effect over the years, spicing it along the way.  I’m a longtime Houstonian, after all.
 
Though I had a tasty ragù at the new Rosie Cannonball, I believe that this tastes better.  That is takes at least five hours to create is part of the reason.  It’s better with better beef, and make sure that it is at no more than 80% lean.  Some good chuck, hormone-free from H-E-B worked very well the other day.
 
Olive oil – 1 tablespoon
Butter – 3 tablespoons
Onion – 1, chopped
Celery stalk – 1, chopped
Carrot – 1, diced
Ground beef, 80% lean – 1 pound
Whole milk – 1 ¼ cup
White wine – 1 ¼ cup
Peeled tomatoes – 1 15 ½-ounce can
Nutmeg, ground – a pinch
Serrano peppers – 3, seeded and diced
Salt – a pinch
Black pepper
Parmigiano-Reggiano – grated
 

1. Melt the butter in a cast iron pan or a heavy-bottomed pot with the olive oil and cook the onions until translucent.
2. Add the carrot and celery and cook for at least 2 minutes stirring to coat the vegetables well with the butter and oil.
3. Add the ground beef along with a pinch of salt and a few grindings of black pepper.  Break up the beef and cook until the beef is brown.
4. Add the milk.  While stirring frequently let simmer gently until the milk is evaporated completely.  This will take at least a half an hour.  Cooking the meat in the milk before adding the wine and tomatoes reduces the impact of the acidity of the wine and tomatoes.
5. Add the pinch of ground nutmeg.
6. Add the white wine and simmer until entirely evaporated, which will take another half hour or so.
7. Add the tomatoes and stir in well.  Cook uncovered with “the laziest of simmers” for at least 3 hours.  If the sauce begins to dry out, which is likely, add some water.  Before serving, there should be no water left in the sauce.

Serve with just cooked pasta and some grated Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Before a trip to Pavia recently, all I had really heard about it was zuppa alla pavese, a historic soup named after this city that’s not far south of Milan, something that I had come across in Ada Boni’s classic “Italian Regional Cooking,” which was published in English fifty years ago.  The legend associated with its creation is related in that tome:
 
“On February 21, 1525, Francis I, King of France, was losing the battle of Pavia. Pursued by the Spaniards and about to surrender, he stopped at a cottage near the city and asked for a meal. As it happened, a classical vegetable minestrone was being prepared in the kitchen, and the cook, with a proper sense of occasion, decided to enrich it. She added a few slices of stale bread, toasted and buttered, broke a couple of eggs over the, threw in a few handfuls of Parmesan cheese, and poured the boiling vegetable broth over the top.  Francis ate this strange new dish with great curiosity, and as the Spaniards closed in, he thanked the peasants for their hospitality, declaring, “What you have given me was a King’s soup.!” And that, according to authorities on Lombard cooking, was the origin of Pavia soup, or zuppa alla pavese.”
 
As my trip was sponsored by Pavia’s chamber of commerce and mostly of a gastronomic nature, I assumed that zuppa alla pavese – it’s named after the town and seemingly it’s most famous dish, after all – would be served at least one of the meals, and likely more.  It wasn’t.  Not only that, but the dish does not seem to exist on any of the town’s menus – at least I didn’t find and I was looking – and might not even be cooked much at all in the area.  Our guide and translator, both from the area, had never had the dish.  One reason that it might not be found on too many menus is that it’s relatively straightforward and unfussy dish, and one with centuries-old roots; how many menus sport items that were created in the 1500s, after all? 
 
The dearth of the dish, and the resonance of its name, had encouraged the self-same chamber of commerce to encourage local eateries to update the dish in a variety of creative ways in a program called, “zuppa alla pavese 2.0” that might not have gotten too much traction.  I did encounter that, well, a sign announcing it at one restaurant.  I couldn’t get a table at the only place where I saw.  The restaurants are especially tiny in Pavia, it seems, befitting a pedestrian-centric municipality not needing to seat an influx of tourists.  No matter.  A rendition of zuppa alla pavese is easy to recreate at home.  Good bread and good stock are quite helpful.  And, if you can get some of those gorgeously orange-yolked eggs that are used in Italy, even btter.
 
Zuppa alla pavese – adapted from “The Silver Spoon”
 
Serves 4 as a first course
 
Thick slices of hearty bread with the crusts removed – 4
Butter – 2 tablespoons
Meat broth, homemade if possible, of course – 3 cups
Eggs – 4
Parmigiano-Reggiano – 4 tablespoons
 

1. Preheat oven to 400 F
2. Bring the broth to a boil.
3. Melt the butter in a pan and fry the bread on both sides.
4. Put the bread in four ovenproof bowls.
5. Break on egg on top of each slice of bread and pour over the hot broth.
6. Add the Parmigiano-Reggiano to each bowl.
7. Put into the oven for a few minutes or until the cheese melts.

​One of the many famous dishes originating in New Orleans is Barbecue Shrimp; in my opinion, also one of the very tastiest ever created in an Italian-themed restaurant in this country.  Barbecue Shrimp were first cooked at Pascal’s Manale, a restaurant in business since 1913.  Its heritage is Italian – Manale, after all – and it still advertises itself as “Italian-Creole.”  But, like most Italian-named eateries in the New Orleans area, the Creole is far more prevalent than the Italian.
 
I had it this past weekend at Mr. B’s Bistro, the long-standing Brennan family restaurant in the French Quarter that I had not visited in years.  Though service was something less than prompt and professional, surprising at a Brennan restaurant, the barbecue shrimp were terrific, and terrifically messy.  Thankfully, plastic bibs are provided, an unsightly necessity. 
 
A few things about this garlickly and buttery preparation are unusual when remembering that it was devised at an Italian restaurant.  Though delicious, it hardly registers as Italian or even Italian-American, to be honest.  It is Creole.  “Barbecue” is a complete misnomer.  The shrimp are not barbecued, or even grilled.  The shrimp are actually baked.  Also, it takes its inspiration from Chicago.  It was created at the restaurant in the 1950s after a customer raved about recently having the well-known Shrimps de Jonghe in Chicago.  Yes, Chicago once had a renowned shrimp dish.
 
As flavorful as the dish is, it is also surprisingly easy, and great for parties, since most of the work is done beforehand.  It can be a little, or a lot, messy, which can make it fun for informal get-togethers.  The recipe below is from The Guide to Ridiculously Easy Entertaining.   It comes from my co-author, Michael Wells, who is originally from New Orleans. 
 
New Orleans-Style Barbecue Shrimp
 
Serves – 8 to 10
 
Ingredients: 
Large shrimp (uncooked & heads-on) – 4 to 6 pounds
Butter – 3 sticks (24 tablespoons)
Olive Oil – ½ cup (4 ounces)
Garlic – 4 cloves, finely chopped
Bay Leaves – 2, crumbled
Lemon Juice – 4 tablespoons; use juice from freshly squeezed lemons
Worcestershire sauce – 2 tablespoons
Flat-Leaf Parley – 1 tablespoon, finely chopped
Oregano, dried – 2 teaspoons
Paprika – 2 teaspoons
Cayenne Pepper – 2 teaspoons
Louisiana-style Hot Sauce – 1 teaspoon
Black Pepper, freshly ground – 2 teaspoons
Chili Sauce – ½ cup (4 ounces)
Lemons – 2, thinly sliced
 
Cooking Steps: 

1. Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat.  When butter is melted stir in all of the contents, except for the shrimp.  Simmer for 10 minutes.
2. Place the shrimp in a large baking dish and then pour the butter mixture over it.  Cover it with plastic wrap and then store in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours.  The longer the better.
3. Preheat the oven to 300°F (149°C).
4. When nearly ready for your guests, put in the oven at 300°F (149°C) and cook for 20 to 30 minutes.

 
To Serve: 
Serve with steamed rice and crusty French or Italian bread.  For more casual settings, the bread alone will suffice.


A side of the delicious barbecue shrimp at Mr. B's Bistro in New Orleans

I was fortunate in years past to travel to Italy with the Gruppo Ristoranti Italiani (now Gruppo Italiano) in their gastronomic treks highlighting high quality Italian food and wine producers.  One of those trips, to the region of Molise, was to La Molisana, a commercial pasta maker on the outskirts of the regional capital of Campobasso.  The visit included a tour of the modern factory and subsequent five-course feast in their demonstration kitchen.
 
Though the dinner was terrific – pasta figured prominently in every dish and well-made and well-paired wine was plentiful – a highlight for me were the instructions on how the proper way to prepare dried pasta, directly from the pasta maker.  But, everyone knows how to boil pasta, don’t they?  Not really.  And, the instructions from one of the co-owners drew considered interest from those within earshot in what was an extremely food-savvy group.
 
The instructions:
 

1. Bring copious amount of water to a boil.
2. Add a generous amount of salt.
3. Add the pasta.
4. Close the lid until it returns to a boil.
5. Remove lid.
6. Cook pasta until done.
7. Drain the pasta.

 
It is quite simple, though closing the lid after adding the pasta was seemingly new to most.  It was to me.  As to the amount of water for the pasta or the amount of salt, a generous amount of each was understood. 
 
Plied by our hosts that night with an enormous box containing nearly ten pounds of pasta – and subsequently encountering stares in the airports in Rome, Lisbon and Newark afterwards – I used those instructions when cooking it, and with the pasta since then.  I could really tell the difference with the La Molisana, though.  The quality of La Molisana is superior to what I typically use – and even better than DeCecco, which is excellent – and the improvement certainly lies in that rather than in any optimal cooking process.  La Molisana is available at H-E-B, at least online.
 
But, it is nice to know the optimal way to do it.

Last night I booked my flights into Rome for a trip this summer.  I won't be in the Eternal City longer than for a single lunch this time, and it won't include Fettuccine Alfredo, which is the best known dish that originated in Rome, at least among Americans.  That rich and creamy pasta dish exists today in the restaurants of Rome, but barely.

Fettuccine Alfredo is the most famous of the Roman pasta dishes, at least in terms of its preponderance on restaurant menus, mediocre buffets, and in frozen and sauce form available on supermarket aisles in this country.  It is essentially unknown in Rome and seemingly only served in two restaurants in the Eternal City, both heirs to the establishment where the dish was created.
 
Fettuccine Alfredo is one of those rare widely influential dishes that owes its origin to a single restaurant, Trattoria Alfredo at 104 Via della Scrofa in the historic center of Rome.  It was created in 1920 according to the original restaurant as a very rich version of a traditional pasta al burro – fresh pasta with butter – amping up both the butter and the Parmigiano to create a luxuriant, very rich dish, especially as a primo piatto, the pasta course.  When honeymooning Hollywood stars Mary Pickford and Douglas Fairbanks fell in love with the dish and presented owner Alfredo with a golden fork and spoon in honor of it, the attendant publicity made famous what become known as Fettuccine Alfredo.
 
In the 1940s, Alfredo sold the original restaurant, which is now known as Alfredo alla Scrofa.  In 1950 he decided to get back into business and opened a trattoria called Il Vero Alfredo.  Both claim the heritage of the original, and seem to be the only places in Rome that serve the dish.  At least those are the only two places that I was aware of during my recent few days in Rome.  We stumbled across Alfredo alla Scrofa and its dear 20-euro version of the dish, which did not seem to affect business at all, as the smart-looking establishment looked fully booked. 
 
Maybe the dish is still served elsewhere in Rome, but I did not encounter it on any other menus.  When I have asked Romans over the years about Fettuccine Alfredo – even in my limited Italian – nearly all have expressed a blank look, confessing never to have heard of the dish or anything like it.  But, it appears to have once been popular in the city’s trattorias.  A New York Times article from 1981 claimed at least 50 restaurants served a version of it under the name fettuccine alla romana. 
 
Maybe it is the acknowledgement of excessively caloric and cholesterol-laden nature of the dish that has chased it off the Roman menus – visitors might not be ordering a second course after consuming a portion – but it has certainly found a permanent place in Italian-American restaurants and in (and on) the hearts of diners in the United States.  We like hearty here.
 
This is the (minimal) recipe for the dish from the website of Alfredo alla Scrofa, “the original recipe of ‘Fettuccine Alfredo’”:
 
Ingredients:
Egg pasta
Butter
Parmesan cheese
 
Preparation:

• Boil the water, salt moderately and add pasta.
• Once pasta is cooked (time of cooking depends from the type of pasta) remove it from the water and lie it on an oval plate that was warmed in advance and where butter was placed.
• Cover pasta with a lot of parmesan cheese and melt everything gently.
• When everything will be well melted and you will see a cream sauce coming out, you can serve and taste it.

 
Expertly and freshly made fettuccine featuring plentiful eggs, top-quality butter used nearly in excess and good Parmigiano-Reggiano help quite a bit, plus likely a bit of pasta water at the end.
 
Alfredo alla Scrofa
Via della Scrofa, 104, +39 06 6880 6163
alfredoscrofa.com
 
Il Vero Alfredo
Piazza Augusto Imperatore, 30, +39 06 6878 734
alfredo-roma.it
​

Ristorante Alfredo alla Scrofa a few years ago

I am still thinking of the fantastic shrimp I had in Galveston last month, picked up a grocery store on the west end.  The shrimp were remarkably fresh and flavorful, and the pasta dish they starred was likely helped by the cooking talents of my sister-in-law who happens to have a couple diplomas from Cordon Bleu in Paris.  It further reminded me that I needed to cook shrimp more often, including this New Orleans born dish.

One of the many famous dishes originating in New Orleans is Barbecue Shrimp; in my opinion, also one of the very tastiest ever created in an Italian-themed restaurant in this country.  Barbecue Shrimp were first cooked at Pascal’s Manale, a restaurant in business since 1913.  Its heritage is Italian – Manale, after all – and it still advertises itself as “Italian-Creole.”  But, like most Italian-named eateries in the New Orleans area, the Creole is far more prevalent than the Italian.
 
A few things about this garlickly and buttery preparation are unusual.  Though delicious, it hardly registers as Italian or even Italian-American, to be honest.  “Barbecue” is a complete misnomer.  The shrimp are not barbecued, or even grilled.  The shrimp are actually baked.  Lastly, it takes its inspiration from Chicago.  It was created at the restaurant in the 1950s after a customer raved about recently having the well-known Shrimps de Jonghe in Chicago.  Yes, Chicago once had a renowned shrimp dish.
 
As flavorful as the dish is, it is also surprisingly easy, and great for parties, since most of the work is done beforehand.  It can be a little messy, which can make it fun for informal get-togethers.  The recipe below is from The Guide to Ridiculously Easy Entertaining.   It comes from my co-author, Michael Wells, who is originally from New Orleans. 
 
New Orleans-Style Barbecue Shrimp
 
Serves – 8 to 10
 
Ingredients: 
Large shrimp (uncooked & heads-on) – 4 to 6 pounds
Butter – 3 sticks (24 tablespoons)
Olive Oil – ½ cup (4 ounces)
Garlic – 4 cloves, finely chopped
Bay Leaves – 2, crumbled
Lemon Juice – 4 tablespoons; use juice from freshly squeezed lemons
Worcestershire sauce – 2 tablespoons
Flat-Leaf Parley – 1 tablespoon, finely chopped
Oregano, dried – 2 teaspoons
Paprika – 2 teaspoons
Cayenne Pepper – 2 teaspoons
Louisiana-style Hot Sauce – 1 teaspoon
Black Pepper, freshly ground – 2 teaspoons
Chili Sauce – ½ cup (4 ounces)
Lemons – 2, thinly sliced
 
Cooking Steps: 

1. Melt the butter in a large saucepan over medium-low heat.  When butter is melted stir in all of the contents, except for the shrimp.  Simmer for 10 minutes.
2. Place the shrimp in a large baking dish and then pour the butter mixture over it.  Cover it with plastic wrap and then store in the refrigerator for at least 2 hours.  The longer the better.
3. Preheat the oven to 300°F (149°C).
4. When nearly ready for your guests, put in the oven at 300°F (149°C) and cook for 20 to 30 minutes.

 
To Serve: 
Serve with steamed rice and crusty French or Italian bread.  For more casual settings, the bread alone will suffice.


Below is some beautiful white shrimp at Boyd's on the Texas City dike, sold for just a pittance and worth the drive.

A buddy of mine just traveled to Chicago, and heartily enjoyed the hearty fare including rib-sticking Polish goodness on what used to be near the Polish Downtown on Milwaukee Avenue.  It made me think of Chicago dishes that I might have scribed about in the past.  I finally remembered Chicken Vesuvio, a very good dish that has not really traveled far from its city of origin, which is a shame.

A big, hearty baked chicken dish, it might have originated at the Vesuvio restaurant in Chicago in the 1920s, named after the volcano near Naples (though the restaurant was owned by a native of Turin). It is probably most appropriately enjoyed in a cooler time of the year, but it will still be a hit when prepared properly.  The best version of it that I have had over the years was at the popular, tourist-laden Harry Caray’s downtown.
 
Here is their recipe, from the Harry Caray’s Restaurant Cookbook:
 
Chicken Vesuvio
 
This is adapted from Harry Caray’s in Chicago where it is one the signature dishes, and quite tasty, too.   The original location in downtown Chicago is a touristy spot serving hearty Italian-American dishes – and expense-account steaks – that were a favorite of namesake, legendary baseball broadcaster Harry Caray (born Carabina), an exuberant patron of notable Italian-American restaurants across the country.
 
Serves 4
 
Peas, frozen – 1 cup
Olive oil – ¼ cup
Potatoes, russet – 4, peeled, cut in quarters, lengthwise
Garlic – 12 cloves, 2 minced
Chicken – 1, cut into 8 pieces
White wine – 1 ½ cups
Parsley, flat-leaf – ⅓ cup, chopped
Oregano, dried – 1 tablespoon
Salt – 1 teaspoon
Black pepper – 1 teaspoon
Chicken stock – 1 ½ cups
 

1. Boil water in a small saucepan. Add peas and cook 1 minute. Drain. Rinse with cold water.
2. Heat the olive oil in a large oven-proof skillet over medium heat and add the potatoes and the 10 whole garlic cloves. Cook, stirring occasionally, until potatoes are golden brown on all sides, about 12 minutes. Remove the garlic and discard. Remove potatoes on top of paper towels.
3. Heat oven to 375° F.
4. Add chicken pieces to the skillet, in batches, if necessary. Cook, turning once, until lightly brown, about 5 minutes per side. Stir in the wine, stirring to scrape up browned bits. Cook until reduced by half, about 10 minutes.
5. Return potatoes to the skillet. Season with the oregano, parsley, the 2 cloves of minced garlic, salt and pepper. Add the chicken stock.
6. Put in the oven, and bake until the chicken is done, about 45 minutes.
7. Transfer the chicken to a serving platter.  Arrange the potatoes around the chicken, and pour the sauce from the pan over the dish.

If you have not finished all the crawfish at your boil, or a friend’s for that matter, spending a few minutes gathering crawfish tails can lead to a terrific pasta dish the next day or two.  There is more than etouffee and stock that you can use the boiled and neglected crawfish.  A bright, simple and chucky marinara and the goodness of garlic, onions and peppers gives the crawfish a nice complement and pasta.  Don’t be put off by the number of ingredients or steps, this is actually quite easy.  It is an adaption of dish at Ciro’s, the longstanding Italian-American restaurant on I-10 in Spring Branch that's about to move into new digs at the new Hotel Za Za there.
 
Simply grab some boiled crawfish rip of the heads and legs and stick them in a plastic bag to take home and refrigerate.  You’ll have to remove the tail meat before preparing this dish, but you’ll be part of the way there.
 
Serves – 2 hearty portions

Crawfish sauce:
White Onion, diced – 1 medium
Bell Pepper, seeded and diced – 1
Garlic, finely chopped – 2 cloves
Crawfish tails – About 30
Salt – To taste
Black Pepper, freshly ground – To taste
 
Marinara sauce:
 
Canned peeled and diced tomatoes – 28 ounces
Garlic, chopped – 1 clove
Red pepper flakes – Pinch
Olive oil – 3 tablespoons
Salt – ¼ tablespoon
Black Pepper, freshly ground – Pinch
Fresh basil, chopped – 2 tablespoons
 
For the pasta:
 
Dried pasta like penne, farfalle or linguine – ½ pound
Salt – plenty
 
Cooking Steps:

1. Remove the crawfish meat from the refrigerated tails.
2. Prepare the marinara sauce – don’t use a garbage jarred pasta sauce – as this is easy and can be done while the pasta water heats and the crawfish sauce created.  Heat the olive oil over medium-low heat.  Add the garlic and cook until golden, but not brown.  Add the red pepper flakes and cook for about a minute.  Add the tomatoes then salt and pepper.  Cook for about 30 minutes.  Add the fresh boil soon before serving.
3. Heat the pasta water.
4. Begin the crawfish sauce by heating the olive oil over medium-low heat.  When warmed add the onion and cook until softened.  Add the bell pepper and cooked for about 5 minutes.  Add the garlic and cook for 2 minutes.
5. Add plenty of salt to the boiling water.  Slightly undercook the pasta according to the package directions.
6. Add the crawfish tails and cook for about 3 minutes.  As these are already cooked, you are essentially re-heating them and do not want to overcook them.
7. Add several scoops of the finished marinara sauce to the crawfish sauce and simmer for about 3 minutes.
8. Add the cooked pasta and heat for 1 minute.
9. Add salt and pepper to taste.  You likely need the former.

Crawfish from one of my boils a few years ago.