It is always with a bit of chagrin and bewilderment when I come across the term “secret sauce” when I read an article about food and restaurants.
Is it an actual sauce that chefs use to give their food the appeal that draws customers and acolytes? Or is it the total package that the chef delivers, like his expertise and age-old techniques?
I found that it is all of the above and more. I’ve seen the phrase as what a particular chef brings to his food. Maybe it is something magical that he does to his food, which is unlikely, or maybe it’s the singularity of his technique combined with his dedication and respect for the food itself.
I’m taking a stand and coming down on the side of an actual “sauce,” in this case, a filling that magnifies the excellence of almost any dish to which it is married.
Though my family of good cooks has no connection to Sicily, this culinary gem almost certainly has. It probably came to the mainland by way of a Sicilian who made their home in the great city of Naples, the nexus for much of what makes its way up the boot. We know it arrived in Molise in central Italy long enough for my mother’s family to annex the recipe. Lucky for me and subsequent generations of great Italian cooks.
It is made from ingredients that are always available from an Italian cook’s pantry. Like bread crumbs, the throwaway that is actually the basis for some of Italy’s great dishes. Such as toasted for a marvelous topping for pasta.
To make: I’ve given no amounts as this recipe will need your take on proportion.
Take stale bread grated finely into bread crumbs.
Olive oil (save the extra virgin for salads and bruschetta)
Small dice garlic
Flat leaf parsley
Coarse ground black pepper
A few shakes of sea salt
Capers, whole if they are the nonpareil (small), chopped if they are the large (capote)
Flat anchovy fillets, chopped (with the oil from the can)
Combine all ingredients in a bowl, but the oil.
Drizzle oil onto crumbs and mix well with a fork. Continue adding oil till the crumbs are almost saturated. If crumbs appear dry, press down hard, and if oil begins to show, saturation is close.
This magical stuffing ultimately elevates the magic of globe artichokes, one of my favorite first courses, the “perfect” Primi Piatti.
Stuffed Artichokes
Peel the stem of the artichokes, dice them small, and add to the sauce above.
Open up the center of the artichoke and pull out as much of the “choke” as possible. I use a pliers. Now, stuff as much filling as you can into the artichoke.
Keep pressing down, and you will find more room for stuffing. When filled, add a little mound of stuffing to each. Now press down hard with your palm. This will compress the stuffing and prevent it from coming apart in the poaching liquid.
Place in a pot upright. Use a pot just big enough for the number of artichokes that you are preparing. Fill the spaces between the artichokes with an inverted cup or balls of aluminum foil so that they stay upright through cooking. Fill the pot with water halfway up the artichokes. Partially cover and keep on medium boil until a leaf pulls out easily. This may take up to an hour or sometimes up to two.
To serve, place in the center of a flat plate. Sprinkle with some olive oil and grated cheese if you wish. I use just olive oil and a grind of black pepper. Eat the filling with a salad fork. To eat the flesh from the leaves, hold a single leaf down on your plate and scrape with a thin blade paring knife, carefully scraping the flesh into the center of the vegetable or on the filling. I, wisely or not, gingerly remove the treat from the knife like I am savoring the dripping from an ice cream cone.
Once you’ve attended to all of the leaves, scrape the remainder of the “choke” away and get to the treat that you worked for, the bottom. I always save some of the filling topped with a drop of olive oil for these few savory bites.
You can use this filling to stuff squid, tomatoes, peppers, scooped-out eggplant, zucchini, and yellow squash. To replace crab on flounder and whatever else you think needs some serious “flavor amplification.”