Chocolate

I’m a little obsessed with mole (Mexico’s national dish, also known as mole poblano). I even visited its birthplace, the Convent of Santa Rosa in the beautiful colonial city of Puebla. Traditional mole takes days to make and is just as marvelous and multileveled as the most complex French sauce. Here you get a much easier version with nearly authentic results in terms of flavor. Do a little experiment and taste your mole right before you add the chocolate and then right after you add it. If you don’t get what it means when gourmands talk about “depth of flavor,” you’ll get it when you make this comparison. My great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, and I all like to sprinkle it with plenty of additional sugar and a dollop of sour cream after it’s on the plate. You can make the sauce on its own and use it for very impressive enchiladas—or do as I did when I was a kid: spoon a few tablespoons over Mexican rice and chow down.

If your only impression of a zeppole was formed at a street fair, where they are served hot out of the oil and dusted with powdered sugar, prepare to have your socks knocked off. With these you get your doughnut and coffee all in one delectable bite.

Like raspberries and chocolate, pomegranate and chocolate make a very sexy couple, and they give this sorbet a little more body and interest than your basic fruit flavors. Its sweet-tart flavor is refreshing on a hot day, and the mint syrup has a real cooling effect.

I love desserts that transform just a few simple ingredients into a show-stopping confection. Honey gives this rich tart an intriguing, elusive flavor and floral aroma. Serve the tart in small wedges, as it is extremely rich, or cut it into little triangles to pack along on a picnic.

Arborio rice is essentially risotto rice. I use these short grains to make classic risottos but also for this most decadent dessert. It’s rich, creamy, and, most important, absolutely loaded with chocolate! When I serve this I make a very light meal so everyone has room to indulge and the pudding is the star of the show. It’s a good choice if you need to make dessert ahead of time, as it keeps well in the refrigerator for several days.

Most of my desserts are fairly low-maintenance to assemble, so I hesitated to include the recipe for these in this book. But they are so incredibly irresistible and delicious—imagine a homemade candy bar with a chewy caramel center—that I decided it would be unfair not to. Take care not to overcook the caramel, so it stays soft and chewy and doesn’t become hard and brittle. Investing in a candy thermometer takes away the guesswork and ensures a perfect outcome.

I dare you to stop after just one of these light and airy little treats; they melt on your tongue, leaving just a kiss of mocha flavor behind. Wait for a cool, dry day to attempt these, as humidity ruins the texture of meringues, making them grainy and gummy.

The richest, most elegant dessert you can make with so little work.

Make sure you don’t skip the last part of this classic—the wonderful frothiness is one of the two things that make Mexican hot chocolate special (the cinnamon is the other). For a great dessert, serve this with Churros (page 655). The chocolate sold in Mexican stores for hot chocolate already contains cinnamon and sugar, so you can just melt it with some milk and beat until frothy. You can actually make it with water if you like, and it isn’t half bad.

Montezuma introduced Cortés to chocolate in the sixteenth century, and the Spaniards immediately began messing around with it. The original Mexican beverage (preceding recipe) was tweaked to suit the tastes of the Spaniards, and their associated versions of hot chocolate remain different to this day. Spanish hot chocolate is incredibly rich and thick—almost like loose pudding—and perfect for dunking Churros (page 655). Some people use cornstarch (or eggs) to thicken their chocolate, but I prefer the natural thickness that comes from melting chocolate into milk.

There are many traditional Italian almond-paste cookies, but rainbow cookies seem to have been created in America by Italian American immigrants to honor the colors of the Italian flag. The recipe requires patience, but it is not difficult. As with most baking recipes, follow the instructions carefully and you will be rewarded with cookies that everybody loves and that keep moist for more than a week. You can find them in Italian bakeries year-round, but they are especially popular at Christmastime.

Every region of Italy makes some form of these fried dough pastries called zeppole. They can be sweet or savory, with goodies embedded in the dough or stuffed after frying. Zeppole are especially prepared for St. Joseph’s Day (March 19), during Lent, for the Christmas Vigilia (Eve), and on holidays. When sweet, they are usually dusted with powdered sugar and served hot. You can find them in every Little Italy in the United States around the holidays.

Boston cream cakes do not sound Italian, but this recipe was given to me by Italians. At Scialo Brothers Bakery in Rhode Island, we found trays upon trays of little chocolate-covered spheres. I thought they were some version of a cassata (a Sicilian domelike cake stuffed with ricotta cream—see page 318), but instead they were individual Boston cream pies. The French chef Sanzian, who worked at the Parker House Hotel (now the Omni Parker House) in Boston is credited with having invented the Boston cream pie. Italian or not, these were delicious.

This is a Cinderella dessert story. From simple leftovers—some coffee, leftover cake or cookies, an enrichment of cream or mascarpone—a prince of a dessert is born. Tiramisù is an Italian creation but its popularity in America began in San Francisco, and today it is as beloved in the United States as it is in Italy. In Italy this kind of dessert is categorized as dolce al cucchiaio (desserts to be eaten with a spoon), as is zuppa inglese. Tiramisù can be made in advance, keeps well, is great to serve big numbers, and can even be frozen and remain delicious.

This moist, creamy, and flavorful dessert, zuppa inglese (“English soup”), has its roots in the English trifle and it was thought that it first appeared during World War II, when British soldiers were stationed in Italy with only meager custard rations. However, the recipe appears in Pellegrino Artusi’s book, published in 1891, before any Allied forces had been stationed in Italy. Other theories reach as far back as the Renaissance. Zuppa inglese is traditionally made with sponge cake, but I use savoiardi (ladyfinger) cookies, as are used in tiramisù, hence making the assembly much quicker. This dessert was a staple of every Italian American restaurant, and every Italian bakery made a version of it.

Incassare in Italian means “to put in a box,” and in this case the boxing consists of flavored ricotta in a light sponge cake, often decorated with candied fruits and chocolate. It is a dessert that, once filled and sealed, keeps well for a few days. That is why Italian American restaurants had it on the menu: low maintenance with good flavors. This versatile dessert can be filled with various flavors of ice cream, so try substituting that in place of the ricotta filling (in which case you will have to keep the cake in the freezer). Sicilian in origin, cassata is most easily found in areas of America that experienced a large influx of Sicilian immigrants, such as New Orleans.