PEPPER & EGG STRATA, PAGE 52 GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 50-51GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 50-513/7/23 12:26 PM3/7/23 12:26 PMPEPPER & EGG STRATA, PAGE 52 GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 50-51GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 50-513/7/23 12:26 PM3/7/23 12:26 PM63Eggs Uncle Phil’s Deviled Eggs My uncle Phil was not known for his cooking—he lived with Bimpy, so you can’t blame him for not bothering to learn. But he was famous for showing up to every single party with a tray of deviled eggs, proudly telling anyone who would listen that he made them himself. His special touch was topping them with halved olives for some extra flair. In my version, I embrace the many pickled vegetables in a jar of giardiniera for that special hit of beautiful brininess. I also add a bit of the giardiniera brine into the yolk mixtures, which brings a level of drama that I’m positive would make Uncle Phil proud. 1. On a large cutting board, halve each egg lengthwise. Remove the yolks, dropping them into a medium bowl. Reserve the egg white halves on the board. To the yolks, add the giardiniera brine and mayonnaise. Season with the paprika and a pinch of salt. Use a fork to mash and stir until a smooth filling forms. Taste for seasoning. 2. Transfer the mixture into a small zip-top bag. Snip a corner off the bottom of the bag, and twist the top of the bag to remove the air and push the mixture down to the snipped corner. Press the filling out through the slit and pipe it into the reserved egg white halves. 3. Transfer the filled eggs to a serving platter and top with pieces of giardiniera. Serve immediately or refrigerate for up to 4 hours, so you have plenty of time to do your hair and makeup for the party. Makes 24 eggs 12 large hard-boiled eggs (see page 40), peeled and rinsed 6 tablespoons Giardiniera brine (page 32, or from a store-bought jar), plus pieces of Giardiniera to garnish 2 tablespoons mayonnaise 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika Kosher salt GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 62-63GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 62-633/7/23 12:26 PM3/7/23 12:26 PM63Eggs Uncle Phil’s Deviled Eggs My uncle Phil was not known for his cooking—he lived with Bimpy, so you can’t blame him for not bothering to learn. But he was famous for showing up to every single party with a tray of deviled eggs, proudly telling anyone who would listen that he made them himself. His special touch was topping them with halved olives for some extra flair. In my version, I embrace the many pickled vegetables in a jar of giardiniera for that special hit of beautiful brininess. I also add a bit of the giardiniera brine into the yolk mixtures, which brings a level of drama that I’m positive would make Uncle Phil proud. 1. On a large cutting board, halve each egg lengthwise. Remove the yolks, dropping them into a medium bowl. Reserve the egg white halves on the board. To the yolks, add the giardiniera brine and mayonnaise. Season with the paprika and a pinch of salt. Use a fork to mash and stir until a smooth filling forms. Taste for seasoning. 2. Transfer the mixture into a small zip-top bag. Snip a corner off the bottom of the bag, and twist the top of the bag to remove the air and push the mixture down to the snipped corner. Press the filling out through the slit and pipe it into the reserved egg white halves. 3. Transfer the filled eggs to a serving platter and top with pieces of giardiniera. Serve immediately or refrigerate for up to 4 hours, so you have plenty of time to do your hair and makeup for the party. Makes 24 eggs 12 large hard-boiled eggs (see page 40), peeled and rinsed 6 tablespoons Giardiniera brine (page 32, or from a store-bought jar), plus pieces of Giardiniera to garnish 2 tablespoons mayonnaise 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika Kosher salt GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 62-63GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 62-633/7/23 12:26 PM3/7/23 12:26 PM69Appetizers Fried Calamari & Pepperoncini On the rare occasion when my family dined out, we went to Nino’s in Waterbury, Connecticut. (Of course, we ate Italian American because we liked to be comfy even out of the house.) The first dish to hit the table was always fried calamari, and it was placed directly in front of Bimpy. The second dish to hit the table was always another order of calamari, and it was placed in the center for sharing. What made Nino’s so special were the rings of pepperoncini scattered in with the calamari, adding a perfect bite of tang. This recipe is my ode to that classic app, which, in my opinion, is how calamari should always be served. 1. Clip a deep-fry thermometer to the side of a Dutch oven and set it over medium heat. Add the vegetable oil and heat it to 375°F. 2. Meanwhile, pour the batter into a rimmed quarter sheet pan or 9 x 13-inch baking dish. Pat the calamari and pepperoncini with paper towels to dry thoroughly. Separate the rings, tentacles (if using), and pepperoncini. Use tongs to toss a quarter of the calamari rings into the batter, turning to coat. 3. Holding the sheet pan close to the stove, use the tongs to remove the calamari from the batter, allowing any excess to drip off, then carefully lower them into the oil. Cook until the batter is golden brown and crisp, 4 to 5 minutes. Use a spider strainer to transfer the rings to paper towels to drain. Immediately season with a pinch of salt. Continue frying the rings in batches, allowing the oil to return to 375°F between each batch. 4. When all the rings are fried, repeat the process with the tentacles (if using). 5. Use a spider strainer to lower a third of the pepperoncini rings into the oil (do not batter them). Step back—no matter how dry those pepperoncini were, they will still have some fight left in them; don’t panic when the oil starts sputtering. Fry until the pepperoncini are golden brown and slightly crisp, 3 to 5 minutes, then transfer to paper towels to drain and season with a pinch of salt. 6. Pile the fried rings, tentacles (if using), and pepperoncini onto a platter. Serve with plenty of lemon wedges and aioli, marinara, or both. Serves 8 2 quarts vegetable oil, for frying It Doesn’t Get Batter Than This (page 67) 2 pounds whole calamari, cut into 1/4-inch-thick rings, or calamari rings and tentacles, thawed if frozen 1 (12-ounce) jar pepperoncini rings, drained Kosher salt FOR SERVING Lemon wedges AP Aioli (page 35) Grossy’s Marinara (page 153) or store-bought marinara sauce GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 68-69GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 68-693/7/23 12:26 PM3/7/23 12:26 PM69Appetizers Fried Calamari & Pepperoncini On the rare occasion when my family dined out, we went to Nino’s in Waterbury, Connecticut. (Of course, we ate Italian American because we liked to be comfy even out of the house.) The first dish to hit the table was always fried calamari, and it was placed directly in front of Bimpy. The second dish to hit the table was always another order of calamari, and it was placed in the center for sharing. What made Nino’s so special were the rings of pepperoncini scattered in with the calamari, adding a perfect bite of tang. This recipe is my ode to that classic app, which, in my opinion, is how calamari should always be served. 1. Clip a deep-fry thermometer to the side of a Dutch oven and set it over medium heat. Add the vegetable oil and heat it to 375°F. 2. Meanwhile, pour the batter into a rimmed quarter sheet pan or 9 x 13-inch baking dish. Pat the calamari and pepperoncini with paper towels to dry thoroughly. Separate the rings, tentacles (if using), and pepperoncini. Use tongs to toss a quarter of the calamari rings into the batter, turning to coat. 3. Holding the sheet pan close to the stove, use the tongs to remove the calamari from the batter, allowing any excess to drip off, then carefully lower them into the oil. Cook until the batter is golden brown and crisp, 4 to 5 minutes. Use a spider strainer to transfer the rings to paper towels to drain. Immediately season with a pinch of salt. Continue frying the rings in batches, allowing the oil to return to 375°F between each batch. 4. When all the rings are fried, repeat the process with the tentacles (if using). 5. Use a spider strainer to lower a third of the pepperoncini rings into the oil (do not batter them). Step back—no matter how dry those pepperoncini were, they will still have some fight left in them; don’t panic when the oil starts sputtering. Fry until the pepperoncini are golden brown and slightly crisp, 3 to 5 minutes, then transfer to paper towels to drain and season with a pinch of salt. 6. Pile the fried rings, tentacles (if using), and pepperoncini onto a platter. Serve with plenty of lemon wedges and aioli, marinara, or both. Serves 8 2 quarts vegetable oil, for frying It Doesn’t Get Batter Than This (page 67) 2 pounds whole calamari, cut into 1/4-inch-thick rings, or calamari rings and tentacles, thawed if frozen 1 (12-ounce) jar pepperoncini rings, drained Kosher salt FOR SERVING Lemon wedges AP Aioli (page 35) Grossy’s Marinara (page 153) or store-bought marinara sauce GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 68-69GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 68-693/7/23 12:26 PM3/7/23 12:26 PM152 I use three types of tomatoes in my marinara: fresh, pureed, and paste. The fresh add a perfect texture: choose plum tomatoes that are red, ripe, and still firm. The cans of puree add body: stick to your favorite brand and avoid added seasoning or reduced salt. And the paste adds extra-rich flavor: again, pick your favorite—we want a classic can or tube of the good stuff for the best results. GROSSY’S GUIDE TO MARINARA Nothing is more central to the Italian American diet than Italian gravy, Sunday sauce, a pot of maranad. (Also complaining about the agita [Italian heartburn] after your third plate.) Bimpy and Grandma Katherine always had a pot of marinara on the stove, another pot in the fridge, and many containers in the multiple freezers around the basement. In the summer, their garden exploded with neon-red tomatoes and gigantic basil leaves. Throughout the rest of the year, their shelves were stacked high with canned tomatoes. When I moved to California in my twenties, the only way I knew how to deal with the creeping homesick feeling was to make marinara. So I would pull out my biggest pot, call in advice from every family member who had ever touched a tomato, and start filling my tiny apartment with batch after batch until it smelled like home. A simmering pot of marinara is one of the simplest pleasures in life, but you have to put care into each component to achieve nonna-level sauce. TOM ATO A LLI U M S W I N E S U G A R SEASONINGS If you wouldn’t sip a glass of it, it doesn’t belong here. But price doesn’t always equal quality—all you need for a marinara is a nice, dry red with lots of character. As the wine cooks down, all the natural flavors concentrate to make the base of a sauce that’s complex and perfectly layered. I wouldn’t dream of serving anything marinara related without a generous helping of garlic bread. This quick and easy recipe serves 6 to 8 people and basically throws itself together in no time. Set your broiler on high. Slice a baguette in half lengthwise and place it cut side up on a sheet pan lined with foil. In a small bowl, stir together 4 tablespoons softened unsalted butter, 4 grated garlic cloves, 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes, and 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika. Spread the butter mixture onto both halves of the baguette. Broil for 2 to 4 minutes, until the bread is golden brown and toasted. Cut the bread into slices and garnish with chopped parsley. G A R L I C B R E A D I use red onion for maximum flavor, and an even dice helps it soften perfectly into the final sauce. On the other hand, I go for a rough chop with my garlic because I love a surprise bite here and there. If you want it to blend in, mincing or using a garlic press is totally fine. A controversial marinara ingredient, sugar is either the banned-for-life or must-have ingredient in red sauce. I think a spoonful or two helps wake up all the flavors, round out the marinara, and enhance the sweet tomato flavor. But if you can feel your ancestors rolling in their graves, leave it out. Even dried spices eventually expire, so be sure your dried oregano is still packing a punch and your red pepper flakes are still fiery hot. Freshly ground peppercorns release a lot of flavor that the pre-ground stuff just doesn’t. And choose basil that is vibrant and fragrant. Most importantly, taste often and season well. No two cooks make marinara the same way, and no two pots are ever exactly the same, but that’s the beauty of the sauce. This method is my tried-and-true, developed over decades of trial and error, but the door is wide open for interpretation. Use what you love and be open to tweaking it as you aim for your idea of perfection. The only goal is a simmering sauce that you want to slather over everything—and slather it you will, in all the recipes in this chapter. 1. In a large Dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat. When the oil is shimmering, add the onion, garlic, and a generous pinch each of salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is soft and the garlic is beginning to brown, about 6 minutes. Add the wine and oregano and simmer until the wine is reduced by about half, 6 to 8 minutes. 2. Add the quartered tomatoes and cover the pot. Cook, covered but stirring and smashing the tomatoes occasionally with a wooden spoon, until the tomatoes are mostly broken down, about 20 minutes. Add the tomato puree, tomato paste, basil, and another pinch of salt. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the flavors develop and the sauce thickens. This can go on for hours, but about 20 minutes is the minimum. 3. Taste for seasoning, adding more salt, black pepper, red pepper flakes, and the sugar, as needed. Serve immediately or let cool completely in the pot. Store refrigerated in the pot for up to 3 days and reheat over low heat before serving, or transfer the cooled sauce to freezer-safe containers and store frozen for up to 6 months, thawing in the refrigerator a day before using. Makes 8 cups 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 1 medium red onion, diced 10 garlic cloves, roughly chopped Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper Red pepper flakes 1 cup red wine 2 tablespoons dried oregano 2 pounds medium plum tomatoes, quartered 2 (28-ounce) cans tomato puree 1 (6-ounce) can tomato paste A handful fresh basil leaves, roughly torn Sugar, as needed Grossy’s Marinara GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 152-153GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 152-1533/7/23 12:28 PM3/7/23 12:28 PM152 I use three types of tomatoes in my marinara: fresh, pureed, and paste. The fresh add a perfect texture: choose plum tomatoes that are red, ripe, and still firm. The cans of puree add body: stick to your favorite brand and avoid added seasoning or reduced salt. And the paste adds extra-rich flavor: again, pick your favorite—we want a classic can or tube of the good stuff for the best results. GROSSY’S GUIDE TO MARINARA Nothing is more central to the Italian American diet than Italian gravy, Sunday sauce, a pot of maranad. (Also complaining about the agita [Italian heartburn] after your third plate.) Bimpy and Grandma Katherine always had a pot of marinara on the stove, another pot in the fridge, and many containers in the multiple freezers around the basement. In the summer, their garden exploded with neon-red tomatoes and gigantic basil leaves. Throughout the rest of the year, their shelves were stacked high with canned tomatoes. When I moved to California in my twenties, the only way I knew how to deal with the creeping homesick feeling was to make marinara. So I would pull out my biggest pot, call in advice from every family member who had ever touched a tomato, and start filling my tiny apartment with batch after batch until it smelled like home. A simmering pot of marinara is one of the simplest pleasures in life, but you have to put care into each component to achieve nonna-level sauce. TOM ATO A LLI U M S W I N E S U G A R SEASONINGS If you wouldn’t sip a glass of it, it doesn’t belong here. But price doesn’t always equal quality—all you need for a marinara is a nice, dry red with lots of character. As the wine cooks down, all the natural flavors concentrate to make the base of a sauce that’s complex and perfectly layered. I wouldn’t dream of serving anything marinara related without a generous helping of garlic bread. This quick and easy recipe serves 6 to 8 people and basically throws itself together in no time. Set your broiler on high. Slice a baguette in half lengthwise and place it cut side up on a sheet pan lined with foil. In a small bowl, stir together 4 tablespoons softened unsalted butter, 4 grated garlic cloves, 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes, and 1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika. Spread the butter mixture onto both halves of the baguette. Broil for 2 to 4 minutes, until the bread is golden brown and toasted. Cut the bread into slices and garnish with chopped parsley. G A R L I C B R E A D I use red onion for maximum flavor, and an even dice helps it soften perfectly into the final sauce. On the other hand, I go for a rough chop with my garlic because I love a surprise bite here and there. If you want it to blend in, mincing or using a garlic press is totally fine. A controversial marinara ingredient, sugar is either the banned-for-life or must-have ingredient in red sauce. I think a spoonful or two helps wake up all the flavors, round out the marinara, and enhance the sweet tomato flavor. But if you can feel your ancestors rolling in their graves, leave it out. Even dried spices eventually expire, so be sure your dried oregano is still packing a punch and your red pepper flakes are still fiery hot. Freshly ground peppercorns release a lot of flavor that the pre-ground stuff just doesn’t. And choose basil that is vibrant and fragrant. Most importantly, taste often and season well. No two cooks make marinara the same way, and no two pots are ever exactly the same, but that’s the beauty of the sauce. This method is my tried-and-true, developed over decades of trial and error, but the door is wide open for interpretation. Use what you love and be open to tweaking it as you aim for your idea of perfection. The only goal is a simmering sauce that you want to slather over everything—and slather it you will, in all the recipes in this chapter. 1. In a large Dutch oven, heat the olive oil over medium heat. When the oil is shimmering, add the onion, garlic, and a generous pinch each of salt, black pepper, and red pepper flakes. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the onion is soft and the garlic is beginning to brown, about 6 minutes. Add the wine and oregano and simmer until the wine is reduced by about half, 6 to 8 minutes. 2. Add the quartered tomatoes and cover the pot. Cook, covered but stirring and smashing the tomatoes occasionally with a wooden spoon, until the tomatoes are mostly broken down, about 20 minutes. Add the tomato puree, tomato paste, basil, and another pinch of salt. Reduce the heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until the flavors develop and the sauce thickens. This can go on for hours, but about 20 minutes is the minimum. 3. Taste for seasoning, adding more salt, black pepper, red pepper flakes, and the sugar, as needed. Serve immediately or let cool completely in the pot. Store refrigerated in the pot for up to 3 days and reheat over low heat before serving, or transfer the cooled sauce to freezer-safe containers and store frozen for up to 6 months, thawing in the refrigerator a day before using. Makes 8 cups 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 1 medium red onion, diced 10 garlic cloves, roughly chopped Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper Red pepper flakes 1 cup red wine 2 tablespoons dried oregano 2 pounds medium plum tomatoes, quartered 2 (28-ounce) cans tomato puree 1 (6-ounce) can tomato paste A handful fresh basil leaves, roughly torn Sugar, as needed Grossy’s Marinara GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 152-153GROSSY_4p_v1.indd 152-1533/7/23 12:28 PM3/7/23 12:28 PMNext >