Italian Cuisine is a broad topic that becomes vast when wine and travel are added -- far too vast for just one person to cover well. I am eager for your contributions, questions and observations. Anything goes, from recipes to travel experiences, and especially the ways Italian dishes have been adapted to other lands.

Created about 1978 by Brad O'Connor, inspired by Aglio e Olio, a Roman specialty.

It's not always a sin to be unorthodox in cooking. Years and years ago, I tweaked aglio e olio to include prawns and clams and this has been a popular request from Italian friends visiting us in Seattle and at their homes in Italy. On a visit to Milano in the mid 80s, I pleaded with a highly skeptical waiter to ask the chef to include gamberi and vongole in my aglio e olio order. The chef complied and he and the kitchen crew watched, mumbling about the crazy American, as I wolfed it down. Not long afterward, the same dish was listed on the menu. My original creation called for spaghettini. Now, I prefer the consistency of linguine. I also add a dollop of butter to the sauce for additional smoothness. This will serve 10.

• 1 1/2 pounds of prawns (16 to 20 to the pound)
• 1 1/2 pounds of steamer clams (or one can chopped clams)
• 2-3 generous pinches red pepper flakes (more, if you like it really hot)
• 2-3 full heads of garlic
• 1 bunch flat-leafed Italian parsley
• 1 1/2 pounds of imported linguine (or spaghettini, spaghetti)
• Salt
• 1/4-1/8 pound salted butter
• Rroughly 1/2 pint extra virgin olive oil. The right amount of olive oil is what it takes to thoroughly coat each strand, but not to leave an oil pool at the bottom of the serving dish.

Step 1. Finely chop garlic. In a pan, add garlic and slightly less than a pint of olive oil. On low flame, simmer until garlic just begins to change color. Above all, do not allow it to brown. At that moment, add pepper flakes and about half of the chopped parsley. Add dollop of butter, allow sauce to simmer about a minute longer, then remove from heat and set aside.

Step 2. In a large covered pot, steam clams for about three minutes after all clams have opened. Shuck and set aside meat, discarding any clams that do not open. Reserve the clam nectar.

Step 3. Shell prawns (no need to gut). Lightly sauté empty shells in remaining butter and olive oil, remove shells, and add prawns, dash of salt and a grinding of black pepper and then sauté only until all the prawns have turned reddish. Set prawns aside.

Step 4. Fill a large spaghetti pot two thirds of the way to the top with water (the rule is, at least a gallon of water per pound of pasta), add nectar. Bring water to a rapid boil, add 2 to 3 tablespoons salt, add pasta, stir and cook until al dente, usually 8 to 10 minutes. To check for doneness, start taste-testing strands after about 7 minutes.

Step 5. Drain (but do not rinse) pasta, plop it in bowl and add clams, prawns, garlic mixture (you may have to reheat at last moment), remaining parsley, then stir and serve. DO NOT SERVE WITH GRATED CHEESE.

I recently received a request from Cathy, via AOL, for a migliaccio recipe made with corn meal and cooked on the top of the stove. In Northern and Central Italy Migliaccio is either a pig's blood concoction (which is rare nowadays because of the difficulties involved in procuring fresh blood) that can be salty or sweet, or a winter pastry made with chestnut flour -- obviously not what Cathy had in mind.

A search on It.Hobby.Cucina led me to migliaccio alla napoletana, a traditional Neapolitan Easter cake, and a sweet recipe as well, posted by Teresa De Masi, who very kindly allowed me to translate it entire:

"The strangest things flitter through your head sometimes. It would have been just a couple days ago, would have been but wasn't, and will never be again. It would have been a birthday.

Eyes that continue to look at me, and that I cannot see, nor ever will again. Hands I gripped tightly with my own, which were a little larger than hers, and which I held during her first walks. Legs I saw rise slowly, and slowly begin to walk. And a smile, just like mine.

I've always liked to cook, Il Manuale di Nonna Papera (Walt Disney's manual for little girls) is probably to blame. Not her, she just liked to eat. And be naughty, especially when I was cooking… 'Wow! You're baking a cake!' She'd say it behind my back, and before I could turn around disaster would strike: the oven open and the cake collapsed.

I'm smiling now, and how could I not? I know how to make it even better, something very sweet.

Migliaccio is a classic Neapolitan specialty, something I've never come across anywhere else. Its flavor is reminiscent of pastiera di grano (another Neapolitan sweet, made with ricotta and grain), is it aroma of orange blossoms. It's got the same color too, like a ray of sunlight. And it's easy to make, when you come right down to it. To begin, prepare a pastry cream with 3/4 cup (175 grams, or about 175 ml) whole milk, 2 egg yolks, 1/2 cup sugar, and 2/3 cup potato or corn starch. (With these proportions it will come out quite thick -- bring the milk to a boil. While it's heating, whip the yolks with the sugar until the mixture is pale yellow and foamy, then sift the starch into the mixture, stirring constantly to keep lumps from forming. Stir in the hot milk, a few drops at a time, then heat everything over a very low flame, stirring gently, until it thickens somewhat -- about 10 minutes. Don't let the cream come to a boil, and be gentle, lest it curdle.) Then heat another 3/4 cup of milk with a pinch of salt, stir in a scant 1/2 cup of semolina (80 grams), a cup of sugar, and cook for about 5 minutes.

Afterwards, you simply have to combine this mixture with a touch more than 3/4 of a pound (350 grams) of fresh ricotta, a flacon of acqua di fiori d'arancio (orange blossom water, use orange extract if need be, to taste), two more yolks, and the pastry cream. Done. Butter and flour a mold, and bake the mixture in it at 360 F (180 °C) until it done. [It should set, figure about 45 minutes but check it at 30]. Open the oven and let the migliaccio cool without removing it, to make sure it's completely dry, and dust it well with confectioner's sugar.

In a couple of hours I'll again behold the color of a sunbeam. Tomorrow night a friend will share it with me, but I won't tell him the 'why.' Nor will he know we're celebrating a birthday, there won't be any reason to tell him. But he will smile, I know that. And in that smile, and mine, I'll find another that my eyes, and mine alone, haven't seen for seven years. Because everyone always said my sister and I had the same smile. It would have been a birthday, her 33rd. And it will be reason for joy.

Recipes mean more if they have stories behind them; if you would like to write Teresa, her address is tdemasi@tin.it.

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Mel Myers was looking for a Fradiavolo sauce. A search through several cookbooks failed to turn it up, but I did find salsa alla diavola, which is likely related -- as a group, sauces with devils in them tend to be spicy and hot, like their abode. Here it is, from "La Mia Cucina" (a ten-volume set by De Agostini):

• 1 medium-sized onion
• 1/4 cup unsalted butter
• 2 cups dry white wine
• 1 bullion cube
• 2 cups hot water
• 1 teaspoon (or more to taste) cayenne pepper

Mince the onion and sauté it in the butter until it turns translucent; don't let it brown. Stir in the wine, turn up the flame, and cook until almost all the liquid evaporates. Add the remaining water and the cayenne pepper, and cook the sauce down to till it's about a cup in volume. It should go nicely with bland foods, for example boiled meats, boiled fish, and boiled or mashed potatoes.

Though mel liked the sauce it's not exactly what he had in mind, which was something to go over lobster (lost his letter due to disk snafu, so I can't quote it). If anyone has any suggestions... Thanks!

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Stuart Borken knows how to bake, and I envy him. Not too long ago he requested an almond tart like what he was wowed by in Bologna. The recipe I found wasn't what he had in mind, so he got to work in the kitchen and developed this, which he has been kind enough to share with us.

Recipe by Stuart H. Borken MD, Minneapolis, Mn.
Serving Size: 8
Preparation Time: 1:30

The Dough:

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

2 tablespoons sugar

1 stick butter with salt, cold

4 tablespoons ice water

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

The Filling:

6 tablespoons butter softened

6 tablespoons sugar

2 large eggs, lightly beaten

1/3 cup almond paste

5 very large Majool dates pitted & skinned

1/2 teaspoon vanilla

Dash cinnamon

Dash nutmeg

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (about 205 C).

Have an 8-inch tart pan ready.

To make the dough, combine the flour, sugar and butter in the bowl of the Cuisinart with the steel blade in place, process until it resembles a coarse meal. In a separate small bowl, combine the ice water and the vanilla and add it in a slow stream to the flour mixture with the motor running until it forms a ball. Flatten the dough ball with your hands into a thick disc, wrap the dough in plastic and refrigerate it for at least 30 minutes.

On a lightly floured board roll out the dough to 1/4-inch thick and fit it into a 9-inch tart pan. Trim the edge and prick the bottom of the dough with a fork. Line the crust with parchment paper and weigh it down with dry beans or pie weights. Bake the dough in the oven for 35 minutes, or until fully baked.

Lower the oven temp. to 375 degrees (190 C).

In an electric mixing bowl beat softened butter and sugar until the mixture is light and fluffy. Add the beaten eggs and beat to combine. Beat in the almond paste which will be firm and take a lot of attention to get entirely incorporated, add the vanilla, cinnamon and nutmeg and dates and beat well. Spoon the mixture into the baked tart shell. There will be some extra filling, do not over fill the shell. Bake the tart for 25 minutes, or until center is firm and the crust edges browned. When baked it will puff up some but then fall flat as it cools. Do not worry. This is expected. Allow to come to room temp. and serve slightly warm with whipped cream.

Frank recently posted this on the BBS:
"One of my favorite dishes was the rolled meat my grandmother used to put in her spaghetti sauce. She called it something like sasicheddi (pronounced sa-seech-ed-eee). This was supposed to translate as "little sausage" in the Sicilian dialect (Termini Imerese)."

Most people would probably call it Braciole, but this is a bit different (smaller in size, thinner meat, and different stuffing). I learned how to make this from my mom - who learned it from her mom.

It's a lost art. Hope some of you Italian cooks can keep it alive.

Ingredients for 8 Sasicheddi rolls:

• 1 pound beef (top round, eye of round) sliced fairly thin (about 1/8 inch). Many supermarkets have it packaged this way.
• 1&1/2 cups stuffing: 60 percent bread crumbs (grated white bread - but Contadina seasoned Italian bread crumbs are fine) and 40 percent imported romano grated cheese. Add freshly minced garlic (about five cloves per two cups of crumbs) and slightly moisten mix with olive oil.

Prepare as follows:

• Cut sliced beef into pieces about 3 1/2" wide by 5" long. If they are bigger - that's ok, but not too much bigger. You can also pound out meat with a tenderizer if the slices are too thick, or if you need to make them wider.
• Cover meat with stuffing. The trick is not to use too much, just enough to cover most of the slice with a 1/8-inch or so thick layer.
• Roll up the meat and tie with string, or use a small meat skewer (i.e., cooking nail) and thread it in and out of the roll.
• Brown rolled meat (light brown) in pan prior to adding sauce.

Tip - it helps to have some pork sausage and ground beef in the sauce for flavor. Also be sure to use plenty of garlic (the real stuff - not minced from a jar). If you have any questions you can e-mail me at frankj171@aol.com.
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Pat recently wrote saying she had lost her Italian confermation cake recipe and asked if I had one; I replied that I didn't know of any specific recipe -- these sorts of things tend to be local or regional, rather than national.

Pat wrote back saying a friend had found the recipe, and is sharing it with us. Turns out I had heard of it; Buccellato is a Tuscan cake. However, I was unaware of the Communion connection -- in older cookbooks it's mentioned as an ideal cake for the srping (and by extension Easter), because some recipes call for many eggs, whose production was seasonal in the days before chicken farms. The word buccellato means shot through with holes, and refers to the texture of the cake.

• 3 cups flour + flour for baking pan
• 2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
• Salt
• 3 eggs
• 1 1/2 cups sugar
• 8 tablespoons butter
• Grated peel of 1 lemon
• 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
• 1 cup milk

Use 9x2 inch round cake pan
Preheat oven to 350 (175 C)
Combine flour, baking powder and pinch of salt. Break eggs into food processor bowl. Add sugar and run metal blade till eggs swell and are pale yellow. Melt butter over low heat. Add flour and baking powder mixture to processor bowl and mix. thoroughly. Add melted butter, grated lemon rind, lemon juice and mix. With blade running slowly add milk.
Smear inside of baking pan liberally with butter, sprinkle flour and shake off excess. Pour batter (runny consistency) into pan. Bake in middle of preheated oven for 50 minutes or till top is deep golden.
Jean Loudenslagle (Phoenix, Arizona)

Recipe courtesy of and © Jean Loudenslagle.
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