This is a thoroughly traditional Istria-style pasta, the very best of its kind. The sauce, or sugo, is the kind of long-cooking sauce my grandmother made, patiently, from a tough courtyard hen, rooster, or rabbit. It would perk on the stove forever, or so it seemed: whenever I thought it was done, she would pour in a little more broth and let it cook longer. Finally, though, the sugo would be finished—velvety in texture, dense with meat, and rich with flavor. Then Nonna Rosa would use it to dress her handmade fuzi—little quill-like cylinders of fresh pasta. Though the sugo and fuzi would be delicious in other pairings, to me they are meant to go together, and that’s how I give them to you here. Today’s sugo will not take forever. With a smallish hen—organically raised and free-ranging, for the best flavor and nutrition—it takes only a couple of hours to make a thick, brothy sauce with concentrated flavor. For taste, texture, and convenience too, I recommend that you make the sugo the day before serving, so the flavor permeates the meat. The fuzi can be made a few hours ahead and kept at room temperature (or frozen long in advance, as detailed on page 20). If you want to make and serve everything in one day, mix the dough, start the sugo, then form the fuzi while the sauce is cooking.
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Put these out at a gathering, and we guarantee you’ll be hearing rave reviews for a long time.
A flurry of fresh tarragon makes this speedy weeknight dish of seared cod and luscious, sun-colored pan sauce feel restaurant worthy.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.
Among the top tier of sauces is Indonesian satay sauce, because it is the embodiment of joy and life. In fact, this sauce is also trustworthy and highly respectful of whatever it comes into contact with—perhaps it is, in fact, the perfect friend?
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.