Dairy Free

Sweet corn and fresh lima beans are natural garden partners and one of my favorite vegetable combinations. I like traditional American succotash (originally a Native American dish, in fact), in which the vegetables are cooked together in water, milk, or cream. But limas and corn are especially delicious when prepared by my covered-skillet method, with olive oil and garlic (and a bit of peperoncino). You must use fresh-cut corn kernels and lima beans right out of the shell for this dish—frozen corn and limas will get mushy and just don’t have the flavor. Cutting corn kernels off the cob is easy. For a fast method, see below. And shucking lima beans is a pleasant task that I enjoy. Though I admit that Gianni, my mother’s boyfriend, is always happy to help me when I’ve got pounds of beans to shell.

Lemon is such an everyday flavoring that we forget how unique it can make a dish.

Brussels sprouts are a love/hate vegetable. Let this recipe surprise you—even the dubious will fall in love with sprouts. But it’s the experience of tasting the vegetable in an unexpected form—all the leaves separated, tossed in the skillet until tender and sweet—that really makes the difference. They are wonderful as is, but the Lemon Sauce that follows provides a tangy counterpoint to the delicately caramelized green-gold leaves.

In ancient times, an elixir was thought to cure anything, make one immortal, or turn metal into gold. And this elixir, a seasoned purée of really ripe raw homegrown tomato, certainly can turn ordinary vegetables into something delectable. I’ve paired it here with caramelized cauliflower, but it will make even a boiled potato an exciting dish. This is a great way to use very ripe homegrown or farm-stand tomatoes that are almost too juicy to cut up—and are often a bargain at the farm stand. If you have a lot of tomatoes, you can easily multiply this formula for larger quantities. Store elixir in the refrigerator for a week and enjoy it as a beverage as well as a vegetable sauce. I’ve been told it makes a great Bloody Mary. But my favorite is a small glass of chilled tomato elixir in the morning. Try it—it will change your day!

I cook cauliflower many ways and my family loves them all (certainly I do). But if some in your family don’t like the distinctive, “sulfur” quality in cooked cauliflower, try this skillet method. It eliminates the sulfur taste and produces a cauliflower floret that’s entirely different from a boiled one—crispy on the edges, and almost coated with a sweet caramelization. It’s delicious by itself but even better with the lively contrast of Garden Tomato Elixir.

This is the pasta “sauce” I make in August, when just-picked tomatoes in all shapes and colors are piled on our kitchen windowsills—and it is too hot to hang around the stove. It’s a fast no-cooking preparation, but it requires ripe and juicy tomatoes, preferably homegrown or heirloom tomatoes from the farmers’ market. Be sure to have them at room temperature. The sauce actually develops in the hour or two when it marinates: salt draws the juices from the tomatoes, and they become infused with the flavors of basil and garlic. Then all you do is toss piping-hot pasta with the tomatoes and enjoy one of the rare treats of the whole year.

Here you prepare the tomatoes and sauté the base of onions and garlic in the exact same way as in the previous recipe, but the final sauce is unique. First you soften the eggplant chunks in the pan before adding the tomatoes. Then you cook the vegetables covered for a long time, so the chunks break down even more. The aim is to soften the eggplant so much that it almost melts into the tomatoes—which explains the traditional name for this sauce, melanzana affogata: literally, “suffocated eggplant.” The eggplant does not disappear, though, either in flavor or texture, I assure you. If you love eggplant as much as I do, you will want to make this sauce—and plenty of it.

About half the tomato plants I put in our garden beds each summer are plum tomatoes, mainly Italian varieties but also some of the old-fashioned American “heirlooms” that are being revived. Of course, New York is not Naples, and our San Marzano and Roma tomatoes don’t absorb the intense sunlight that they would in Italy, but with my mother’s careful tending (and the kids’ attention too), the plants are prolific and the tomatoes big and sweet. When they ripen—by the bushel, it seems—we make these sauces, one with just tomatoes and the other with tomatoes and eggplant. They are simple sauces, mostly the primary vegetables and big “bouquets” of fresh-cut basil branches (and olive oil, onion, garlic, and peperoncino, naturally). Yet they have a freshness and intensity that are distinct from any sauce made with canned tomatoes, even the finest San Marzano tomatoes. We make both of these in large quantities, in part because the plants are so productive (and Grandma won’t let anything go to waste), but mostly because they are so delicious and versatile. I put them on pasta, eggs, meats, and other vegetables. They are key components in some of my favorite summer creations, including the vegetable lasagna and skillet gratinate that you will find elsewhere in this chapter. And I freeze as much of both sauces as I can—they keep for months and retain their fresh, summery flavor. It’s a joy to cook with them in December or January!

Many people love eggplant but dread the frying of it and don’t like all the oil the eggplant absorbs. I am a lifelong eggplant lover, but I do like to eat—and cook for my family—in a healthy way. So I like this preparation, which gives you all the good flavor of eggplant without the frying: you poach small eggplant wedges in water and red wine vinegar, then season and marinate them in fresh mint, garlic, and drizzles of olive oil. After an hour, the layers of bright flavor in each slice are developed and you have a delicious and versatile dish. The wedges are a treat by themselves and a fine complement to many other dishes; see below.

Marinara with the addition of canned tuna and capers makes a great pasta sauce.

Poached zucchini, cut into rounds or cubes, is a terrific salad ingredient. This salad is a lovely combination of tastes and colors, but you can follow the same basic approach without the potatoes, without the eggs, or even without the onions. If you are preparing zucchini and potatoes for salad, it’s easy to cook them in one pot of water. Start boiling them together and remove the zucchini when they are “droopy,” as described in the main recipe. Usually the potatoes will need to cook a bit longer, until they are easily pierced with a fork or sharp knife. Let everything cool, then toss your salad and dress it just before serving.

Poaching is not a common preparation here in the U.S., but in season all over Italy you will be served zucchini cooked this way, simply seasoned with salt and olive oil. It is a perfect method when excellent zucchini are abundant—convenient to do the cooking ahead. Let the zucchini cool and you can serve them many delicious ways—as an appetizer, a side dish, or the centerpiece of a summer salad. (See below for some good ideas.) You can expand this recipe as much as you want for large parties.

Here is another unusual preparation of zucchini that will heighten your appreciation for a wonderful vegetable that is often abundant and underused. It’s my simplified version of a traditional method—in escabesce—in which sautéed zucchini is marinated in vinegar with fresh mint. Here, zucchini and scallion slices caramelize slowly in a skillet, are quickly coated with sizzling vinegar, and are tossed with fresh mint. The resulting layers of flavor are distinct but harmonious. This is a versatile addition to your repertoire of fresh-from-the-garden recipes. Made ahead and served at room temperature, it’s a lively side dish all summer long, especially good with anything off the grill.

You probably have enjoyed grilled corn; you may or may not have tasted a grilled fresh fig. I’m almost sure, however, that you never had them together in one dish. But when late summer brings them to market at the same time, I hope you will try this recipe. It’s a simple one to do ahead: you grill the corn on the cob and then grill the figs (they take barely a minute). You slice off the corn kernels, toss them with the figs, and serve the dish at room temperature. The golden vegetable and dark fruit are a great-tasting and pretty combination just as they are, but if you happen to have some Drizzling Sauce of Balsamic Vinegar already made (or a bottle of balsamic vinegar to reduce), it’s definitely worth applying the final swirl of sauce. The acidic tang sets off the sweetness of all the sugars in the corn and figs, already intensified by the heat of the grill. You can use either a gas or a charcoal grill for this, but keep the fire moderate (and pay attention, especially with the figs) so the sugars are caramelized, not burned.

I suggest you use duck legs to make this guazzetto, because they are juicier. But if you can’t buy duck legs separately, you can cook the whole duck. Another way to skin this cat is to remove the duck’s breasts, make the guazzetto with the rest of the duck, and sear the breasts to be served as a second course or a treat for another meal.

Potato flour (not potato starch) makes pasta with a delicious and distinctly potato-ey flavor. The dough will feel stiff when just mixed, but after resting it gets soft and easy to roll and cut.

Italians enjoy many traditional foods made with farina di castagne—chestnut flour—especially cakes and sweets. Pasta with part chestnut flour is delicious too, as I hope you will discover. Imported farina di castagne is widely available in specialty markets (and from Web sites).

Flour from dried ceci—the Italian name for garbanzo beans or chickpeas—is one of a number of bean flours with which one can make pasta. Like the others, this yields a good pasta with a different nuance of flavor—complex, buttery, with a tinge of sweetness from the bean. It’s a great carrier for vegetable, game, or nut sauces.

This is one of the oldest pastas in Italy. The Romans would call it lasagnum—wide strips of pasta dressed with honey, cheese, and herbs. I love this pasta. When cooked, it is light and has a silky texture.