Quick and easy with few ingredients are welcome words for a weeknight meal. The fact that it also tasty and visually appealing doesn’t hurt matters.
Harissa, the North African spice paste considered a pantry staple, adds flavor to salmon fillets along with garlic and lemon juice. After roasting, the fillets are served with a simple three-ingredient relish made by combining parsley, lemon zest and chopped green (or black) olives. The bold, zingy intensity of the herbal garnish is used to balance the fattiness of the salmon.
Our piece of salmon weighed in at 1 pound and we therefore left it intact instead of sizing down into 4 separate fillets. (Yes, this did extend the roasting time a bit.) While we served ours with steamed broccoli and a side salad, you could also pair with couscous and perhaps a cucumber or tomato salad.
Harissa-Roasted Salmon with Lemon, Olive and Parsely Relish
1/2 cup lightly packed fresh flat-leaf parsley OR cilantro, roughly chopped
1/2 cup pitted green OR black olives, roughly chopped
Directions
Set a wire rackin a rimmed baking sheet and mist it with cooking spray. In a small bowl, stir together the harissa, 1 tablespoon oil, garlic, the lemon juice and 1 teaspoon salt. Place the salmon skin side down on the rack. Rub the harissa mixture onto the top and sides of the fillets. Let stand at room temperature while the oven heats.
Heat the oven to 450°Fwith a rack in the middle position. Meanwhile, in a small bowl, stir together the parsley, olives, the remaining 1 tablespoon oil, the lemon zest and ¼ teaspoon salt.
Roast the salmonuntil the flesh flakes easily and the harissa mixture has deepened in color, 12 to 14 minutes. Serve the fillets with the parsley-olive mixture and lemon wedges.
This is a rustic, deeply satisfying Italian soup inspired by the zuppa d’orzo e fagioli of Treviso, in the Veneto region of northeastern Italy. Here’s what makes it special:
The beans do double duty. Cannellini beans are pureed with their canning liquid to create a silky, creamy broth that feels rich without being heavy — a clever technique that builds body naturally. Then plumper, meatier Roman beans (borlotti/cranberry beans) are stirred in near the end for textural contrast and substance.
Barley gives it soul. Pearl barley is a traditional addition in this part of Italy — it’s starchy, chewy, and filling, making the soup feel like a true meal rather than a starter.
The greens add color and nutrition. Curly kale is the preferred choice here for its tender texture, though lacinato (Tuscan) kale (our choice) works too with another four or five minutes of simmering time.
The flavor profile is earthy and savory — the kind of soup that tastes like it’s been simmering all afternoon, with layers built from humble pantry ingredients.
Overall, it’s a cucina povera (“poor kitchen”) style dish — simple, nourishing, and deeply flavorful — the sort of thing an Italian grandmother might make on a cold winter day, stretching inexpensive ingredients into something truly memorable. It would pair beautifully with crusty bread and a drizzle of good olive oil on top.
TIP:Don’t use whole-grain or quick-cooking barley. The former requires an extremely long cooking time, and the latter lacks the heartiness and chew of pearled barley.
2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil, plus more to serve
1 medium carrot, peeled, halved lengthwise and cut into ¼-inch half-rounds
1 small yellow onion, chopped
1 medium celery stalk, chopped into ¼-inch pieces
2 medium garlic cloves, chopped
2 Tbsp. chopped fresh sage
1 6-inch rosemary sprig
Kosher salt and ground black pepper
1/2 cup pearled barley
1 quart low-sodium vegetable or chicken broth
1 15½-oz. can Roman beans, rinsed and drained
1 small bunch curly kale, stemmed and sliced into thin ribbons (about 6 cups)
Finely grated Parmesan or pecorino Romano cheese, to serve
Directions
In a blender, combine the cannellini beans with their liquid and 2 cups water. Blend until smooth, about 30 seconds.
In a large saucepan over medium, combine the oil, carrot, onion, celery, garlic, sage, rosemary and ½ each teaspoon salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is softened and translucent, 6 to 8 minutes. Stir in the barley, followed by the pureed cannellini beans and the broth. Bring to a simmer over medium-high, then reduce to medium and cook, uncovered and stirring occasionally, until the barley is al dente, 25 to 30 minutes.
Stir in the roman beans and kale. Return to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until both the kale and barley are tender, 8 to 10 minutes. Off heat, taste and season with salt and pepper. Remove and discard the rosemary. Serve the soup drizzled with additional oil and sprinkled with cheese.
Lasagna has always been more about the layering of flavors than the layering of sheets — and this soup makes that case decisively. Italian sausage goes into the pot first, browning until the fat renders and the fond builds on the bottom of the pan; that’s your flavor foundation.
Broken lasagna noodles go in rough and ragged, and as they cook they shed just enough starch to pull the soup toward something richer — thicker than a broth, looser than a sauce, with that silky, clingy quality that makes you want to chase every noodle around the bowl.
An almost full tube of double-concentrated tomato paste blooms directly in the sausage fat, turning deep brick-red and caramelizing at the edges before a pour of chicken broth lifts everything into a broth that tastes like it simmered for hours. (You can use regular tomato paste, but the flavor will be milder.)
Fresh spinach wilts in at the end, barely needing a minute. The finishing move is a generous spoonful of seasoned ricotta dropped straight into each bowl, where it softens at the edges and slowly folds into the broth — the same creamy counterpoint it’s always provided, just without the oven and the longer wait time.
TIP: The pasta will continue to absorb liquid as the soup sits, causing it to thicken. If making ahead, reserve the noodles until reheating; drop them into the bubbling broth just before serving and cook until al dente, adding splashes of water as necessary to thin the broth.
Serve with crusty garlic toast and a side salad to round out the meal.
1 lb. hot or sweet Italian sausage, (casings removed if in links)
1 medium onion, chopped
1 tsp. Diamond Crystal or ½ tsp. Morton kosher salt, plus more
5 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 4.5-oz. tube double-concentrated tomato paste (about ½ cup)
4 cups chicken broth, preferably homemade
10 oz. dried lasagna noodles (about 10 noodles), broken into 2″–3″ pieces
1 cup whole-milk fresh ricotta
Freshly ground pepper
5 oz. fresh baby spinach
Directions
Heat 2 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil in a medium Dutch oven or other heavy pot over medium-high. Arrange about 1” pieces of 1 lb. hot or sweet Italian sausage, casings removed, in pot in a single layer. Cook, undisturbed, 3 minutes, then continue to cook, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon or heatproof rubber spatula, until browned all over and just cooked through, 3–4 minutes more. Using a slotted spoon, transfer sausage to a plate. (Depending on the size of your pot, you may have to do this in two batches.)
Place 1 medium onion, chopped, in same pot and season with kosher salt. Cook, stirring often, until slightly softened and starting to brown, about 3 minutes. Add 5 garlic cloves, thinly sliced, and one 4.5-oz. tube double-concentrated tomato paste (about ½ cup) and cook, stirring often, until paste is starting to stick to pot and has darkened significantly, about 3 minutes. Pour in 2 cups water, scraping up any browned bits stuck to bottom of pot.
Pour in 4 cups low-sodium chicken broth and add 1 tsp. Diamond Crystal or ½ tsp. Morton kosher salt. Increase heat to high and bring to a boil. Add 10 oz. dried lasagna noodles (about 10 noodles), broken into 2”–3” pieces, and cook, stirring often, until very al dente, about 9 minutes.
Meanwhile, place 1 cup whole-milk fresh ricotta in a small bowl and season with salt and freshly ground pepper; mix well.
Stir another 2 cups water into soup (it will have thickened up by this point); return sausage to pot. Reduce heat to low and cook just until meat is warmed through, about 5 minutes. Remove pot from heat and stir in 5 oz. fresh baby spinach; season soup with more salt and pepper if needed.
Ladle soup into bowls. Top each with a dollop of ricotta mixture and season with more pepper.
Pollo al ajillo is a classic Spanish garlic chicken dish that’s bursting with robust, savory flavors. The recipe highlights the rich aroma and taste of garlic, using 10 cloves to infuse the chicken with a deep, fragrant essence. This weeknight garlic chicken recipe cooks in one large skillet. And because it uses boneless, skinless chicken thighs, it’s ready in just over 30 minutes.
The chicken pieces are browned in olive oil until golden and crispy on the outside. Then, whole garlic cloves are gently sautéed along with bay leaf and fresh thyme sprigs, which add an earthy, herbal note to the dish.
Once the chicken has developed a beautiful color and the garlic is softened but not burnt, a splash of white wine is added. The white wine not only deglazes the pan, lifting all the flavorful browned bits but also imparts a subtle acidity and complexity that balances the richness of the garlic and chicken.
The chicken is returned to the pot and simmers for about 10 minutes in this fragrant mixture, absorbing the combined flavors. The dish is finished with a generous garnish of freshly chopped parsley, adding a bright, fresh contrast and a pop of color.
It is astonishingly flavorful considering the small number of ingredients! The result is a beautifully aromatic, tender, and juicy chicken with a garlicky punch, complemented by thyme’s herbal aroma and the wine’s delicate acidity—a beloved staple of traditional Spanish home cooking perfect for serving with crusty bread, rice or potatoes.
Served with a roasted carrot and hazelnut side dish and Spanish rice.
Season the chicken. Pat the chicken dry and season all over with salt and pepper. Lightly coat both sides with the flour and shake off any excess.
Sear the chicken. In a large heavy-bottomed skillet, heat the olive oil over medium-high until shimmering but not smoking. Working in batches if necessary, cook the chicken until golden, about 4 minutes per side. Remove chicken to a plate and set aside.
Make the sauce. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute. Pour in the wine and use a wooden spoon to scrape any browned bits stuck to the pan. Add the bay leaf and thyme, and return the chicken and any accumulated juices. Once the sauce comes to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover the pan, and cook for 10 minutes.
Finish and serve. Uncover the pan and increase the heat back to medium-high. Cook, uncovered, until the sauce has reduced by half, about 5 minutes. Remove the skillet from the heat. Remove the bay leaf and thyme sprigs. Garnish with the parsley. Serve with the pan sauce drizzled over top.
Ground pork is an underrated stir-fry protein — it browns quickly in a hot wok, rendering just enough fat to become the cooking medium for everything that follows. Here, it shares the pan with crisp-tender snow peas and meaty shiitake caps, a combination that hits every textural note: silky, snappy, and substantial all at once.
A streamlined mixture of oyster sauce and soy sauce delivers deep, salty-sweet umami without any heavy lifting, and a cornstarch slurry pulls it all into a glossy, cling-to-the-pork coating that carries the flavors through every bite.
Scallions whites wilt slightly and add a mild, grassy note. The finish is a splash of rice vinegar — just enough brightness to cut through the richness and make the whole dish feel alive. Spoon it over jasmine rice and set out the chili-garlic sauce or sriracha for anyone who wants heat.
A few things we did differently was use our well-seasoned wok instead of a skillet. The amount of snow peas came in a 6-ounce packet so we included all of them; plus we doubled the garlic. The black pepper was switched out for white pepper which has a different flavor profile, more of a bite if you will.
And as far as the scallions, we stir-fried the white pieces along with the snow peas and mushrooms thinking they would have been too raw if added at the very end; then garnished the finished dish with thinly-sliced scallion greens.
TIP: Don’t brown the pork over high heat. Cook it more gently over medium, breaking the meat into fine bits with a wooden spoon, until some of the pieces are crisped and caramelized, which adds texture and flavor to the stir-fry.
Stir-Fried Pork with Snow Peas and Shiitake Mushrooms
4 oz. snow peas, trimmed, cut into thirds (smaller ones halved) on the diagonal
8 oz. shiitake mushrooms, stemmed, caps sliced ¼ inch thick
1 bunch scallions, whites cut into 1-inch pieces; greens thinly sliced on a diagonal for garnish
2 Tbsp. unseasoned rice vinegar
Directions
In a small bowl, whisk the oyster sauce, soy sauce, cornstarch, ½ teaspoon pepper and ½ cup water. In a 12-inch skillet (or wok) over medium, heat the oil until shimmering. Add the ginger and garlic; cook, stirring, until fragrant, about 30 seconds.
Add the pork and cook, breaking the meat into small bits, until crisped, about 10 minutes. Spoon off and discard all but 1 to 2 tablespoons of the fat.
Add the snow peas, mushrooms and scallion whites. Cook over medium, stirring, just until the vegetables are heated through, 1 to 2 minutes. Whisk the sauce mixture to recombine, then stir it into the pork-vegetable mixture. Cook, stirring, until the sauce simmers and thickens, 1 to 2 minutes.
Off heat, stir in the vinegar. Taste and season with salt and pepper. Plate over steamed rice and garnish with scallion greens.
The genius of this unusual dish is its economy — one pot, about 35 minutes, and a pantry-friendly ingredient list that produces something that tastes far more considered than the effort involved, complete with a luxurious mouth-feel.
The technique is essentially pasta cooked risotto-style. Rather than boiling the spaghetti in a separate pot of salted water and draining it, you cook it directly in the seasoned broth, and as the noodles absorb the liquid and release their starch, the remaining broth transforms into a loose, clingy sauce that adheres to every strand. The chorizo’s rendered fat and chile-and-spice juices have already been absorbed into that liquid, so the pasta is flavored from the inside out, not just dressed on top.
A couple of things to watch: stir early and stir often once the pasta goes in — spaghetti has a talent for clumping and sticking in the first few minutes before it softens and separates. And pull it while it still has a touch of bite; the noodles will continue to absorb sauce as they sit on the platter.
Adding half of the scallions off the heat and reserving half for garnish is a simple but smart move — you get both the mellow, wilted depth of cooked scallion woven through the pasta and the fresh, sharp bite of raw scallion on top.
This would be nicely complemented by a simple side of sliced avocado or a squeeze of lime at the table, which would cut through the richness of the chorizo fat beautifully. Add a crisp side salad to round out the meal.
NOTES: Mexican-style chorizo is a fresh, raw, heavily spiced sausage — not the cured Spanish variety. The two are not interchangeable here. Mexican chorizo renders its fat and spiced juices directly into the pot, becoming the flavor backbone of the entire dish. Our chorizo was precooked, so once we removed the casings, we chopped up the links and then browned them in the pot — no need to further break up the meat.
Melt 2 tablespoons unsalted butter in Dutch oven over medium heat until foaming. Add 1 pound Mexican-style chorizo sausage, casings removed, and cook, stirring frequently and breaking up meat into ½-inch pieces, until just starting to brown, 2 to 3 minutes.
Add 1 cup finely chopped onion, ½ teaspoon table salt, and ½ teaspoon pepper and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until beginning to soften, 2 to 3 minutes. Add 2 minced garlic cloves and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add 4 cups chicken broth and 2 cups water and bring to boil over high heat. Add 12 ounces spaghetti and continue to boil, stirring frequently to prevent sticking, until pasta is al dente and most liquid has evaporated so pasta is coated in slightly thickened sauce, 12 to 14 minutes.
Off heat, stir in 1½ thinly sliced scallions. Transfer to serving platter and garnish with remaining 1½ thinly sliced scallions. Serve.
Poulet Vallée d’Auge, a rustic braise that marries chicken with apples, Calvados, hard cider and cream. As it is classically known in English, Normandy Chicken with Apples smells like an autumn orchard, although it is a meal that is welcomed anytime of year.
The sequencing of the apples is the real ingenuity of this recipe. By pulling them out after a brief sauté and not returning them until the sauce is nearly finished, you preserve that sweet-tart brightness — they taste of apple rather than dissolving anonymously into the braise. It’s a small act of restraint that makes a big difference in the bowl. Keeping them unpeeled helps the wedges hold their shape through the brief sauté. Their early removal and late return is the key to bright, distinct fruit flavor in the finished dish. (If you prefer softer apples, cook them a few minutes longer in Step 2.)
The uncovered Dutch pot in the oven is also worth trusting. It’s counterintuitive — braising usually means lid on, low and slow — but the oven’s dry, ambient heat does something a stovetop lid cannot: it keeps the skin taut and golden while the liquid below gently simmers and reduces. You get crispness and succulence in the same bite.
One practical note: when you nestle the chicken back in for the oven braise, make sure those skin surfaces are genuinely sitting above the braising liquid, not totally submerged in it. You can use a combination of thighs and breasts (we just used thighs).
Braised recipes with apples tend to be considered a Fall/Winter dish. However, since good apples are available any time of year, there is no reason not to make the meal in the Springtime. (Hot summers, maybe not the best time.) It is lovely served over buttered egg noodles or alongside crusty bread to catch the cream sauce.
Calvados is an aged apple brandy produced in Normandy. If it is not available, domestic apple brandy is a fine substitute, as is applejack. As for the hard cider, use one that is dry, not sweet, and do not replace it with nonalcoholic cider or apple juice, both of which are too sugary.
TIP: Don’t aim for deep browning on the chicken, apples or mushrooms. Light to medium caramelization at all stages is desirable here. The gentle flavors in the braise are easily overwhelmed by aggressive searing.
Oh, and because we ADORE shallots, the amount was doubled from 2 to 4, and it was perfect!
2½ – 3 lbs. bone-in, skin-on chicken thighs and/or breasts, trimmed and patted dry, breasts halved crosswise if larger than 12 oz. each
Kosher salt and ground black pepper
1 Tbsp. neutral oil
4 Tbsp. salted butter, cut into 1-Tbsp. pieces, divided
2 medium crisp, sweet-tart apples, such as Honeycrisp or Gala (about 12 oz.), unpeeled, halved, cored and cut into ½-inch-thick wedges
8 oz. cremini mushrooms, trimmed and quartered
2 medium shallots, cut into ¼-inch-thick wedges (root ends intact)
1/4 cup Calvados or other apple brandy (see headnote)
12 oz. bottle dry hard apple cider (see headnote)
1/2 cup heavy cream
Chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley, to serve
Directions
Heat the oven to 425°F with a rack in the lower-middle position. Season the chicken all over with salt and pepper. In a large Dutch oven over medium-high, heat the oil until shimmering. Add the chicken skin side down, in batches if needed to avoid crowding; cook, reducing the heat if needed, until light golden brown, 6 to 8 minutes. Transfer the pieces skin side up to a large plate. Pour off and discard the fat from the pot.
To the now-empty pot, add 2 tablespoons butter and heat over medium until just melted. Add the apples and cook, stirring, until lightly golden and starting to soften, about 3 minutes (or a few minutes longer if you prefer softer apples). Transfer the apples to another plate; set aside.
Return the pot to medium and melt the remaining 2 tablespoons butter. Add the mushrooms, shallots and ½ teaspoon salt; cook, stirring, until the vegetables begin to soften, 2 to 3 minutes. Remove the pot from the heat and add the Calvados. Return to medium-high and cook, scraping up the browned bits, until syrupy, about 2 minutes. Add the cider, bring to a simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, until reduced by half, about 5 minutes.
Off heat, return the chicken skin side up to the pot and add the accumulated juices. Place uncovered in the oven and cook until the thickest part of the breasts (if using) reaches 160°F or the thickest part of the thighs (if using) reaches 175°F, 20 to 25 minutes.
Transfer the chicken to a platter. Return the pot to medium-high and stir in the apples and cream. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the sauce lightly coats the back of a spoon, about 5 minutes. Off heat, taste and season with salt and pepper. Spoon the sauce and vegetables around the chicken. Sprinkle with the parsley.
Goong Ob Woon Sen is a beloved Thai comfort dish — deceptively simple but packed with layered, complex flavor. The magic here is in the steaming technique: the shrimp aren’t stir-fried or sautéed but rather laid on top of the noodles and essentially steamed under a tight lid, keeping them incredibly plump and juicy while the noodles below absorb every drop of the savory broth.
The sauce — a blend of soy sauce, oyster sauce, sesame oil, and a touch of brown sugar — creates a glossy, umami-rich coating on the glass noodles that’s salty, slightly sweet, and deeply savory all at once. The double pepper (black and white) is the dish’s signature move: black pepper adds bold, earthy heat while white pepper brings a more fragrant, floral warmth that’s distinctly Thai.
Glass noodles are perfect for this preparation — they start neutral and slippery, then become silky and translucent as they soak up the seasoned seafood (or chicken) stock, practically becoming one with the sauce. A final squeeze of lime at the table cuts through the richness and ties everything together with a bright acidic finish.
It’s a one-pot weeknight dream: deeply satisfying, ready in under an hour, and best eaten right away.
Glass noodles go by different names, including bean threads, bean vermicelli, cellophane noodles or saifun. They resemble rice vermicelli but the two are very different, so shop carefully. Check the label to make sure the noodles are made at least in part with mung bean starch. If you can find a brand made with 100 percent mung bean starch, even better.
TIP: Don’t soak the noodles in hot or boiling water, as they will wind up too soft. The aim is to soak them until only partially softened and pliable, but not fully tender; room-temperature or cool tap water is best. Be sure to swish the noodles once or twice during soaking to break up any clumps and ensure they hydrate evenly.
*White pepper is an important ingredient in this dish. But the problem with processed pre-ground pepper is the musty, dusty barnyard-like flavors. Fresh, well-handled peppercorns, by contrast, deliver bright citrus spice with hints of pine. A clear favorite, BoTree White Kampot Pepper is robust yet balanced, and offers impressive complexity — no funk, more flavor!
1 lb. large (26/30 per lb.) shrimp, peeled (tails removed) and deveined, patted dry
Ground black pepper
Ground white pepper, preferably from fresh peppercorns*
2 cups chicken OR seafood broth, preferably homemade
2 Tbsp. neutral oil
1½ Tbsp. minced fresh ginger
4 medium garlic cloves, minced
1 bunch scallions, cut into 1-inch lengths on the diagonal
Lime wedges, to serve
Directions
Place the noodles in a large bowl and add room-temperature water to cover. Let stand until the noodles are pliable, but not fully tender, about 15 minutes, swishing them once or twice to ensure even hydration. Drain in a colander. Using kitchen shears, snip the noodles in several places to cut them into shorter lengths.
While the noodles soak, in a medium bowl, combine the soy sauce, oyster sauce, sesame oil and sugar; stir until the sugar dissolves. In a small bowl, toss the shrimp with 2 tablespoons of the soy sauce mixture, ¼ teaspoon black pepper and ⅛ teaspoon white pepper. Stir the broth into the remaining soy sauce mixture.
In a large (7- to 8-quart) Dutch oven over medium, combine the neutral oil, ginger, garlic and ½ teaspoon each black and white pepper. Cook, stirring, until the garlic begins to brown, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the noodles, tossing, then distribute in an even layer. Scatter the scallions over the noodles, followed by the shrimp, then drizzle in any liquid remaining in the bowl; do not stir. Pour in the broth mixture and bring to a simmer over medium-high. Cover, reduce to medium-low and cook, undisturbed, until the shrimp are opaque throughout and the noodles are tender and have absorbed the liquid, 8 to 10 minutes. Toss to integrate the scallions and shrimp into the noodles. Serve with lime wedges.
This version of Ropa Vieja is made in only one-pot. While flank steak is typically at its best when briefly seared and sliced thinly across the grain to minimize the chewiness of those fibers, here, it’s the opposite. The beef is cooked until well-done, and the fibers are then shredded so that they’re long and whole (hence the dish’s name, which translates as “old clothes”).
Once the beef is browned and removed from the pot, sliced onions and bell peppers, are added plus a generous dose of minced garlic, and all are cooked down until softened. Next, spices like cumin and dried oregano, and a small amount of tomato paste are added, cooking it all for a minute or two to deepen the flavors of those ingredients. Then in go white wine, canned tomatoes, and water or chicken stock. (If you have homemade beef stock, you can use it here; otherwise, chicken stock is the better option, as its flavor is always superior to that of store-bought beef broth.)
The whole pot can is left on the stovetop to simmer, or goes into a 350°F oven to cook until the beef is tender. The oven adds an extra layer of complexity, since the enveloping heat allows the stew’s surface to brown as it cooks, something that doesn’t happen on a burner.
The final step is to fish out the bay leaves, carrot, and celery, then shred the meat into long, thin strands. Mix it back in, toss in some green olives, and simmer it just a little more until the juices have reduced enough to coat the beef in a rich sauce. (We chopped up the celery and carrot and tossed them back into the pot.)
NOTE: Despite being a lean cut not generally suited to long cooking, the classic flank steak works well in ropa vieja because of how nicely it shreds. You can substitute brisket or skirt steak if desired.
3 red, yellow, and/or orange bell peppers, stemmed, seeded, and thinly sliced
8 medium cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. tomato paste
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. dried oregano
1/2 tsp. ground allspice
1/2 cup dry white wine
1 14-oz. can peeled whole tomatoes in their juices, crushed
1 cup homemade or store-bought chicken stock, plus more if needed
2 bay leaves
1 medium carrot, halved crosswise
1 celery rib, halved crosswise
1/2 cup pimento-stuffed olives, sliced into thirds
1 small handful chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems (about 1/2 loosely packed cup)
Cooked rice and pinto or black beans, for serving
Directions
Preheat oven to 350°F (180°C). Cut flank steak into large pieces that will fit on the bottom of a Dutch oven in 2 batches. Season with salt and pepper. Heat oil in Dutch oven over medium-high heat until shimmering. Working in batches, add steak and cook, turning, until browned, about 6 minutes per batch. Transfer steak to a plate and set aside.
Add onion and bell peppers to Dutch oven and cook, stirring and scraping up browned bits from bottom of pot, until onion and peppers are tender, about 8 minutes. Add garlic and cook for 1 minute longer; lower heat and/or add more oil at any point if ingredients threaten to burn.
Stir in tomato paste, cumin, oregano, and allspice and cook, stirring and scraping, for 1 minute.
Add white wine and bring to a simmer, scraping up any browned bits from bottom of pot. Boil until raw alcohol smell has cooked off from wine, about 2 minutes, then add canned tomatoes and stock. Return beef to pot, nestling it under the liquid among onions and peppers, along with any of its accumulated juices. Nestle bay leaves, carrot, and celery into pot. Add more stock, just enough to cover all the ingredients, if necessary.
Cover Dutch oven and transfer to oven, then let cook until beef is very tender, about 1 1/2 hours.
Remove bay leaves, carrot, and celery from pot and discard. Remove beef from pot and, using 2 forks, pull apart into very thin, long shreds. Return beef to pot, stirring to combine with vegetables and cooking liquid.
Stir in olives, return Dutch oven to medium heat, and simmer until juices have reduced just enough to coat the beef in a rich, saucy glaze. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in cilantro, then serve with rice and beans.
This is a deeply special pasta — one that rewards patience and rewards you for paying attention to its distinctly Florentine character.
What separates Penne Strascicate from every other meat sauce you’ve had is the warm spice profile. Nutmeg, cinnamon, and coriander appear in small amounts, but their effect is transformative — they don’t make the dish taste sweet or exotic, but instead add a haunting, aromatic depth that lingers on the palate and makes you wonder what’s in there. It’s a medieval culinary tradition that survived in Tuscany long after the rest of Italy moved away from spiced meat sauces.
The besciamella is used not as a dominant sauce but almost as a finishing emulsifier — a few spoonfuls stirred in at the very end that transform the ragù from something rustic into something almost lacquered. It bridges the richness of the beef-pork mixture and the starch of the pasta into a unified, glossy whole.
And then there’s the technique itself — the strascicare. By pulling the parboiled penne into the still-simmering ragù and dragging it continuously through the sauce, each tube finishes cooking inside the meat sauce rather than water. The pasta swells and absorbs the flavors from the inside out, and the released starch thickens the sauce around it. The result is something you simply cannot achieve by boiling pasta to done and ladling sauce on top. It’s a dish where the process is the point — and where Florence quietly reminds you it does things its own way — well.
We happened to have 1 1/2 pounds of meatloaf mix which is 50% more than the recipe calls for but we used it all, and glad we did. With this addition, the dish could easily feed eight people — paired with a side salad. BTW, we thought the dish was even better the next day as leftovers!
TIP: Don’t boil the pasta until al dente. Drain it when it when it’s a good deal shy of al dente—tender on the outside but still very firm and underdone at the core. (Start checking doneness about 5 minutes before the recommended cooking time on the package.) This ensures the pasta will not end up overdone after cooking in the ragù.
VARIATIONS:The spices are non-negotiable: Nutmeg, cinnamon, and coriander are the soul of this dish — a Florentine fingerprint that sets it apart from Bolognese. Trust the recipe even if the amounts seem small. Don’t skip the drag: Finishing the pasta in the ragù rather than simply tossing at the end is the whole point. Those extra minutes of stirring allow the starch from the pasta to thicken and bind the sauce. Besciamella is the secret weapon: It’s not a heavy addition — just a few spoonfuls lend the final dish a silky, restaurant-quality gloss that coats each piece of pasta. Make the ragù ahead: It improves significantly overnight. The spices mellow and integrate beautifully. Reheat gently and make the besciamella fresh. Penne rigate is ideal: The ridges grip the meaty sauce far better than smooth penne or any other shape.
To make the ragù, in a large Dutch oven over medium-low, combine the oil, the carrots, celery, onion, 1 teaspoon salt and ½ teaspoon pepper. Cook, stirring often, until the vegetables are fully softened but not browned, 25 to 30 minutes.
Increase to medium, then add the beef, pork, coriander, fennel, cinnamon and nutmeg; cook, stirring occasionally and breaking the meat into small pieces, until the meat is no longer pink, 4 to 6 minutes. Add the tomato paste and garlic; cook, stirring, until the tomato paste darkens slightly, 1 to 2 minutes. Add the wine and cook, scraping up any browned bits, until almost fully evaporated, about 2 minutes. Add 3 cups water and the bay, then bring to a simmer over medium-high. Reduce to medium-low and cook, uncovered and stirring occasionally, until the meat is tender and the liquid has reduced by about half, 30 to 35 minutes.
Meanwhile, make the besciamella. In a small saucepan over medium, melt the butter. Whisk in the flour and cook, whisking constantly, for 2 minutes. While whisking, gradually add the half-and-half, then bring to a simmer. Cook, whisking often, until the sauce thickens and no longer tastes of raw starch, 3 to 4 minutes. Off heat, stir in the Parmesan; set aside until ready to use.
About 20 minutes into simmering the ragù, cook the pasta. In a large pot, bring 4 quarts water to a boil. Add the penne and 2 tablespoons salt, then cook, stirring occasionally, until the pasta is somewhat softened but still very firm at the core (begin testing about 5 minutes before the recommended cooking time on the package). Drain the pasta in a colander.
When the ragù is ready, remove and discard the bay, then add the besciamella; cook over medium-low, stirring, until the mixture is slightly thickened, about 2 minutes. Gradually add the pasta, stirring to coat and break up clumps. Cook, stirring and “dragging” the pasta through the sauce, until the pasta is al dente, 2 to 3 minutes. Off heat, taste and season with salt and pepper. Serve sprinkled with Parmesan.
