Salami

Radishes, contrastingly crunchy and peppery to tender and sweet pears, take rather well to modern pickling, the sort that is less about preserving and more about making something to shake other flavors from their shyness.

This recipe makes deeply flavorful broth out of something that most people throw away: the hard rinds of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

It's a pizza. It's a salad. Here, store-bought pizza dough gets this family-friendly dinner on the table in less than an hour.

This sandwich can be lunch, a snack, or a late-night thing. Eat it with potato chips and lemonade; it's also great with a simple green salad for dinner.

There is no better beach or picnic sandwich: It feeds a crowd, gets better as it sits, and is a hearty meal built inside a loaf of bread. About that bread: Unless you live in New Orleans and can get the real thing, opt for a ciabatta or other loaf with a sturdy but not too crusty exterior.

The secret to making perfect crisp-crusted pies at home is in your charcoal grill.

Meet the most creamy, comforting, flavor-packed baked pasta dinner you can make without any actual pasta.

A make ahead recipe of tomatoes with marinated artichokes, salami and smoked cheese for a flavorful topper on toasted baguette bread

This recipe is so easy, I'm almost embarrassed to include it in a cookbook. But it just goes to prove how much transformation can come from the simple act of crisping something in the oven for a bit. Try to find a salami that's 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 inches in diameter, for easy snacking size. If it's not presliced and there's a deli slicer in the store, ask to have it thinly sliced for you. Otherwise do your best to cut it very thin, even slices with your sharpest knife. I like the combination of traditional Dijon mustard and grainy mustard for the dip, but if you prefer you can use just one type or the other. The flavor of the dip will be best if it's made at least 2 hours ahead, allowing the flavors to meld nicely before serving.

When it comes to building a prime muffaletta, the bread may be more important than the olives, meats, and cheeses it’s married to. In New Orleans, this hefty must-have “sando” is constructed on a round, soft Sicilian loaf. In this version, Epicurious member Mike19711 uses focaccia. When serving large parties, use a soft Italian bread, a 9-inch round, or a long 14-inch loaf. Try and hold out until the olive salad has marinated for at least 24 hours; trust us, it will make the meal that much more authentic.

When we’re hosting game night and have lots of my husband’s friends coming over, I make this salad. It’s hearty and colorful, and because it holds very well at room temperature, I can make it ahead of time so I can take part in game night, too!

No matter how creative we like to be with our pizzas, we also have a big place in our hearts for the classics such as this—essentially a pepperoni pizza with roasted chiles added for extra kick.

Pellicano offers a meat lover’s pizza, so I felt I had to offer one, too. Our version should be called a “pork lover’s pizza” because all four of the meats we put on it—fennel sausage, salami, guanciale, and bacon—are pork.

I was introduced to the concept of a chopped salad in the 1970s at La Scala Boutique, a casual offshoot, now closed, of the Beverly Hills institution La Scala. The salad, which they call the Jean Leon Chopped Salad (it’s now available at the original La Scala restaurant), is made of iceberg lettuce, salami, and mozzarella, all so finely chopped that you almost don’t have to chew it, then topped with ceci, or chickpeas, and a tangy red wine vinaigrette. I was totally addicted to that salad. I’ve been making chopped salads ever since, always with La Scala’s version in mind, but the one we serve at the Pizzeria with aged provolone and Sweet 100 tomatoes is my best yet.

This is a rich, dreamy Italian elaboration of brioche, loaded with flavor bursts in the form of cheese and bits of meat, preferably salami. Since first reading about it in Carol Field’s wonderful The Italian Baker, I’ve also made it with bacon bits, different types of fresh or cured sausage, and even with nonmeat substitutes. The bread is traditionally baked in paper bags or panettone molds, but it can also be baked in loaf pans. Perhaps the best way to think of it is as a savory version of panettone, with cheese and meat replacing the candied fruit and nuts. Serve it warm and the cheese will still be soft; serve it cool and each slice will taste like a sandwich unto itself.

This is not your basic antipasti. Serving a beautiful platter of wood-roasted seasonal vegetables, cured meats, hand-crafted cheeses, home-cured olives, and smoke-kissed crusty bread to family and friends as a prelude to dinner is an artful way to honor guests. This is just what chef Chris Bianco does at his restaurant, Pizzeria Bianco, in Phoenix, Arizona. Chris’s wood-fired pizzas are now legendary, but his wood-roasted antipasti platter sings. I hope you will enjoy my version, and create many versions of your own.

It seems unclear why a dish characteristic of Napoli should be called after a Ligurian port. Some say it’s because a Genovese sailor cooked it for some locals and the goodness of it was hailed throughout the hungry city. Others will tell you that Genovese is nothing more than a torturing of Ginevrina—of Geneva—hence giving a Swiss chef, one from the tribe of the Bourbons’ monzù, no doubt, credit for the sauce (page 84). The truth of its origins, adrift forever, holds less fascination, I think, than the patently simple recipe and the lovely, lush sort of texture the meat takes on from its long, slow dance in the pot.

This sandwich shows how just one special addition—here, a delicious spread—can make a big difference. The spread could also be served with crackers or crostini (page 365) or as a dip for crudités (page 52).

I’ve given an American Southern staple an Italian spin with the addition of Parmesan. The cornmeal makes these biscuits sturdy enough to pack on a picnic, and you can stuff them with smoked salmon (my fave), sliced turkey or ham, or even grilled veggies. Hot out of the oven, they are pretty terrific with just a bit of lemon butter.

There are many versions of the muffuletta sandwich around New Orleans, but it seems that Central Grocery in the French Quarter is the place to go. The store is charming enough, but at the back counter, seated on a stool with a muffuletta sandwich in front of you, is where you want to be. We sat down across from a man who told us he’d had his first muffuletta sandwich here fifty years ago and came back regularly for more. Next to him were a couple who have been coming to Central Grocery to enjoy the muffuletta sandwich for more than forty years. We ordered one without any hesitation. The large hamburger bun–like bread was soaked significantly with the olive-oil dressing of the olive salad; then layers and layers of the salad and the cold cuts were added. The sandwich was cut in four and wrapped in parchment paper. It was ten in the morning, one would say time for breakfast, but the two of us savored the muffuletta sandwich as did all the other customers.

I used to eat these all the time as an after-school snack. Who knew I was actually paying homage to another generation? Make them with or without the pickles; it doesn’t matter.