vegetables, the italian way
two recipes from a brilliant new cookbook that finally gives vegetables their due
(Brace yourselves: This is a long one!)
When you think of Italian food, what’s the first word that comes to mind? Pasta, definitely. Pizza, of course. Maybe meatballs or mozzarella, ragù or risotto, cannoli or tiramisù if we’re getting a little wild. Here’s one that probably doesn’t make the cut: vegetables. If I had a nickel for every time I’ve heard a tourist in Italy ask, “Is there anywhere I can just get a salad?!” I’d be a rich woman.
Of course, the apparent lack of greens isn’t entirely unfounded: Stroll any Italian market and you’ll be surrounded by a rainbow of produce, but step into the nearest trattoria and it suddenly seems to disappear, lost among the pastas, pizzas, and proteins we all know so well. So where do all of those vegetables go? The answer has arrived in the form of a brilliant new cookbook, Vegetables the Italian Way: Turning Simple and Fresh into Extraordinary by Tuscan food writer Giulia Scarpaleggia.
If you’ve been here a while, you’ll know Giulia and I are old friends. We met years ago through social media, though I’d been an avid reader of her blog, Juls’ Kitchen, long before (and I remain a dedicated supporter of her writing here on Substack!). This will be Giulia’s seventh cookbook, and like the others, it reflects not only her gifts as a writer and recipe developer, but also the warm, kind, and generally awesome person she is—someone who, to our great benefit, is deeply passionate about sharing Italy’s authentic food traditions with the world.
Dozens of Italian cookbooks line my shelves—several of them written by Giulia—but Vegetables the Italian Way is the one I didn’t know I was missing. It’s a celebration of cucina casalinga—Italian home cooking—that, at long last, pays homage to vegetables as the star, not the sidekick. I doubt anyone would be surprised to discover that Italians are as adept at preparing vegetables as they are at cooking pasta, applying the same principles of simplicity, balance, and resourcefulness that define all aspects of their cuisine. But here, finally, we have a book to guide us, a resource that provides the knowledge and the tools to cook vegetables the same way Giulia has been doing all her life in the Tuscan countryside. And, having just returned from a week exploring the backroads of eastern Sicily, where vegetables far outnumbered any other food group, I can confirm that it’s true: This is how most Italians actually cook at home.
Perhaps my favorite part of Vegetables the Italian Way is its organization. Most vegetable-forward cookbooks cling to seasonality; yes, you’ll find an element of that here, too, but the chapters are primarily focused on technique. There’s “Tossed & Stirred,” “Twice-Cooked,” “Stuffed,” even “Sweetened,” to name only a few—already a signal that the Italian approach to vegetable cooking is a little different than we might expect, at least Stateside. Of course, Giulia eases us in with familiar favorites like her grandmother’s eggplant parmigiana, as well as panzanella, caponata, and pasta e piselli, together a perfect springboard into more daring regional specialties like smothered cauliflower with olives, fried green tomatoes & grapes, squash jam, and a radicchio & white chocolate cake.
Vegetables the Italian Way hits shelves on April 14, and is currently available for preorder here. I chatted with Giulia about the book, and to tide us over until publication day, she’s kindly shared not one, but two vegetable-forward pasta recipes that hit all the high notes of warm-weather cooking: an easy and refreshing roasted red pepper pasta salad, and a luscious and bright tomato orzotto. I know what I’ll be making once Passover ends; consider this your official invitation to start cooking like a born-and-bred Italian, one vegetable at a time.
A Conversation with Giulia Scarpaleggia
The Book
MERYL: Vegetables the Italian Way is your seventh (!) cookbook, and your first to focus primarily on vegetables. Was there a moment, or a meal, that led you to this topic? And why did it feel like the right time to write this book?
GIULIA: In recent years I’ve noticed a change in my appetite and in the way I cook. More and more often, vegetables are at the center of my plate. Partly because they are simply delicious, but also because I wanted to eat in a way that feels more sustainable and more connected to the rhythms of nature and the seasons.
This shift happened quite naturally in my cooking classes as well. We still focus on traditional Tuscan recipes and fresh pasta, but vegetables started to play a bigger and bigger role in the menu. After a visit to the market, they often become the starting point for everything we cook that day.
My students began to notice this, too. Many of them were surprised by how central vegetables are to Italian home cooking, and they often wondered why they couldn’t find the same variety of vegetable dishes in local restaurants. That’s when it really clicked for me: the recipes they loved the most during the classes were the vegetable ones.
More than once, a student told me something that stayed with me: “If this is how you cook vegetables, now I understand why you love them so much. I’d happily eat them every day.” That moment made me realize I wanted to write a book about the way we cook vegetables in Italy, [and in doing so, provide] a more authentic snapshot of everyday Italian cooking: Colorful, seasonal, and joyful, with vegetables playing many roles throughout the meal.
M: You write about growing up and cooking with your family in the Tuscan countryside. How did those experiences shape the way you think about vegetables and seasonal cooking? And how can home cooks adopt that mindset even if they’re shopping at a supermarket?
G: My grandmother had a vegetable garden, and one of my most vivid childhood memories is tagging along with her among the tomato plants, inhaling the green, almost spicy aroma of the tomato leaves. Those moments gave me an instinctive understanding of what seasonality means.
Seasonality wasn’t just about the vegetables themselves, but also the dishes we cooked to mark the passing of the seasons. Winter meant long-simmered stews and rich sauces. Spring brought eggs, fresh greens, and ricotta. And summer was the season of tomatoes in every possible form.
Today I usually shop at my local market, where I can buy vegetables grown in my own region. But there are also days when I go to the supermarket, just like everyone else. In that case, I simply try to look for what is locally grown and what is in season. Produce that is in season is usually more sustainable, more affordable, and—most importantly—more delicious.
The one exception I happily make is frozen vegetables. They can be a very good ingredient to cook with, especially when they are frozen at peak season. In fact, several recipes in the book can easily be adapted to frozen vegetables, which sometimes are the smartest choice in terms of quality, cost, and practicality.
M: You highlight two ideas that immediately piqued my interest and might surprise American cooks: First, that Italians often cook vegetables longer than many modern recipes suggest, and second, that bitterness is a deeply valued flavor—so much so that you call it a “cultural cornerstone” of Italian cuisine.
So my question is similarly twofold: 1) What are the benefits of long-cooking vegetables, and which ones are best suited to that technique? And 2) why is bitterness so beloved in Italian cooking, and how can we balance it on the plate?
G: I love this question, as it touches on two aspects of Italian cooking that indeed often surprise people.
First, long-cooked vegetables: In Italy we are extremely particular about pasta being al dente, yet when it comes to vegetables we often do the opposite and cook them much longer than many modern recipes suggest. That’s because many traditional vegetable dishes come from a time when food simmered slowly on the stove or near the fireplace. Vegetables were often stewed, braised, or cooked twice—first boiled, then sautéed in olive oil with garlic or chili pepper.
Cooking vegetables longer transforms them. Their structure softens, their flavors concentrate, and they become silky and deeply savory. Think of broccoli cooked until it collapses into a sauce for pasta, or green beans slowly braised with tomatoes and olive oil until they are meltingly tender. These humble dishes are incredibly satisfying.
The second aspect is bitterness: In Italian cooking, bitterness is something we grow up loving. Bitter vegetables like radicchio, artichokes, chicories, and broccoli rabe have always been part of the everyday table, and over time they shaped our palate.
Italian cooks instinctively balance bitterness—a drizzle of olive oil softens it, Parmigiano adds umami and saltiness, creamy cheeses mellow it. Think of radicchio paired with Gorgonzola, or raw artichokes shaved thin and dressed with olive oil, lemon, and Parmigiano. When bitterness is balanced in this way, it becomes incredibly compelling. It wakes up the palate and gives depth to a dish, and that’s why it remains such a beloved flavor in Italian cooking.
M: If readers come away from this book having learned just one new thing about cooking vegetables the Italian way, what would you hope it would be?
G: Well, I hope it’s this: Vegetables can be the heart of the meal, not just the side dish.
In many cuisines, vegetables are treated as something that accompanies the “main event.” But in Italian home cooking, they often are the main event. A tray of roasted vegetables, a pan of braised artichokes, a bowl of pasta with broccoli, or a vegetable tart can easily become the most satisfying part of the table.
What makes this possible is not complicated ingredients, but technique. When you know how to braise, roast, fry, or stew vegetables properly, you unlock their full flavor and texture, and they become rich, comforting, and deeply satisfying.
The Recipes
M: Were there any recipes in the book that surprised you, either because they turned out better than expected or because they revealed something new about a familiar vegetable? Is there a “dark horse” recipe readers might overlook at first but that you think will become a favorite once they try it?
G: One recipe that surprised me the most is the pasta with roasted carrots, guanciale, and pecorino. The inspiration came from a pasta I once had at Osteria Quattro Venti in Siena. I remember being struck by the idea of carrots—an ingredient so often relegated to a supporting role in soffritti, stocks, or stews—taking center stage in a pasta dish.
In this recipe the carrots are roasted and blended into a creamy, naturally sweet sauce with the deep flavor of caramelized garlic. When you toss that sauce with pasta and add crisp guanciale and sharp pecorino, the result is surprisingly rich and satisfying, almost like a carbonara, but without eggs.
The moment I realized the recipe really worked was when I cooked it for a friend who is allergic to eggs. After the first bite, she teared up and said it was the first time in years she had experienced something that gave her the same joy as eating carbonara. That’s when I knew the dish had something special.
As for a “dark horse” recipe, I would say the green beans cooked slowly with tomatoes and olive oil. It’s an incredibly simple dish, the kind that might look almost too humble on the page. But when you cook the green beans long enough for them to soften and absorb the tomato and olive oil, they become deeply flavorful and comforting.
M: Which recipes proved the most challenging to develop or refine, and what made them particularly tricky?
G: Ah! Here I have to say bomboloni, as I made and fried them countless times for my husband’s joy! They might look simple—just fried doughnuts—but getting the texture exactly right took several rounds of testing.
In my version, the dough includes potatoes, which is a traditional technique used in some Italian bakeries. Potatoes help keep the dough soft and moist, but they also make the balance of ingredients more delicate. I wanted the bomboloni to be incredibly pillowy and light, so I had to experiment with the proportion of potatoes to flour and adjust the rising times carefully. When they finally came out exactly as I hoped—golden outside, airy and soft inside—it felt like a small victory.
M: Since we’re all here for pasta, I have to ask: What are some of your favorite vegetable-driven pasta dishes in the book, and why do they work so well?
G: Along with the aforementioned pasta with roasted carrots, guanciale and pecorino, I’d say the roasted pepper pasta salad. It screams friends gathered for a meal out in the garden, but it also doubles as perfect picnic food. I love roasted peppers and in the summer I almost always keep a jar of them in the fridge. They’re incredibly versatile, and they turn into a wonderful pasta dressing when tossed with a handful of pantry staples like olives, capers, and almonds.
I also love the pasta with broccoli, where the broccoli is cooked until very soft and then tossed with olive oil, garlic, and chili pepper until it almost melts into the pasta, creating a creamy and comforting sauce.
What all these dishes have in common is that the vegetables are not just added to the pasta, they become the sauce. When cooked properly, they provide texture, depth, and richness without needing many other ingredients.
M: More broadly, what do Italian cooks understand about pairing vegetables with pasta that readers should keep in mind?
G: Very often the starting point is the vegetable itself: what’s in season, what looks best at the market, or what you already have in the fridge. Once you have that, the rest of the dish builds naturally with a few pantry staples: good olive oil, garlic, aged cheese, maybe olives, capers, or a handful of nuts. When you do that, pasta becomes the perfect partner.
Roasted Pepper Pasta Salad
pasta fredda con peperoni arrostiti
Serves 6 to 8 as a first course or light lunch
Pasta salads often suffer from a bad reputation, as most of the time they are coated in a ghastly mayonnaise. Not in Italy, though, where pasta salads are light, fresh, and generously dressed with extra-virgin olive oil. From simple combinations like cherry tomatoes and basil to more elaborate creations featuring canned tuna, hard-boiled eggs, olives, capers, cheese, and pickled vegetables, pasta salads are a must in the summer. They can be a stand-alone main course on scorching days, a fuss-free weeknight dinner, or even a beachside meal packed in a cooler. They also make a perfect first course for an informal gathering.
For the roasted peppers
4 bell peppers, 2 red and 2 yellow
¼ cup/60 ml extra-virgin olive oil
1½ teaspoons dried oregano
Fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled
For the pasta salad
Fine sea salt
1 pound/450 g short pasta, such as fusilli, cavatappi, farfalle, or more inventive shapes
1 cup/120 g Taggiasca or Kalamata olives, rinsed and pitted
¼ cup/20 g brined or salt-packed capers, thoroughly rinsed
2 handfuls of basil leaves, torn into pieces if big
Freshly ground black pepper
1 cup/100 g sliced almonds, lightly toasted
Extra-virgin olive oil (optional)
Roast the peppers
Preheat the oven to 450°F/230°C. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Arrange the bell peppers on the lined baking sheet and transfer the pan to the oven. Roast the peppers, turning them frequently, until the skin is charred all over, about 40 minutes. If you want to further blacken the skin, pop them under the broiler for 5 more minutes.
Remove the peppers from the oven and, using tongs, carefully transfer them to a bowl. Be careful because they might contain steaming-hot liquid. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let the peppers cool down completely. The steam trapped in the bowl will make it easy to peel the peppers.
When the peppers are completely cool, peel and seed them, then cut each pepper into thin strips. Transfer the pepper strips to a colander and let the excess liquid drain off for about 30 minutes. This will avoid a watery dressing for the pasta salad.
Transfer the roasted peppers to a bowl and dress them with the olive oil, oregano, and salt and black pepper to taste. Add the smashed garlic to the bowl, stir, and cover with plastic wrap. (You can roast and dress the peppers up to 3 days ahead and store in an airtight container in the fridge.)
Make the pasta salad
Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil and salt it generously. Add the pasta and cook until al dente according to the package directions. Drain the pasta and run it under cold water to stop the cooking.
Transfer the pasta to a large salad bowl and add the roasted peppers, olives, capers, and basil leaves. Use all the roasted pepper oil to dress the salad. Season with salt and pepper. Give the pasta salad a good stir, cover with plastic wrap, and stash in the fridge for a few hours before serving.
To serve, let the pasta salad mostly come back to room temperature, taste again to adjust the seasoning, add the toasted almonds, and refresh with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil if the salad looks a bit too dry.
Pasta salads are one of those dishes that keep on giving. Leftovers are great for 2 to 3 days if kept in an airtight container in the fridge.
Note: Cooking pasta for a salad requires a deliberate approach. Typically, when serving pasta hot, you would never rinse it, as this dilutes its taste. However, for pasta salads, rinsing is an essential extra step. Once cooked, drain the pasta and rinse it under cold running water; this prevents the pasta from overcooking from the residual heat and ensures a perfect texture when it’s tossed with flavorful condiments.
Bonus Recipe: Roasted Tomato Orzotto
orzotto ai pomodori arrosto
Serves 4 as a main course, 6 as a first course
An orzotto is just a risotto made with orzo, the Italian word for barley. (Do not confuse the grain orzo with the small barley-shaped pasta of the same name.) Pearled barley’s nutty al dente texture magnificently absorbs the flavor of any ingredient you pair it with. It’s easy to make, filling, and nutritious.
Barley takes a bit longer to cook than rice, and the cooking time can vary depending on the brand you use. Pearled barley, which has some of the bran removed, is the best option for quicker cooking. Because of this, the amount of stock you’ll need is approximate. The key is to keep stirring and adding liquid until you achieve the texture you like: tender but still a bit chewy and al dente. Unlike risotto, barley doesn’t release as much starch, so the orzotto tends to be less creamy. However, in this recipe, the roasted tomato puree and the addition of stracciatella create a luscious, rich texture that more than makes up for it.
Click here to download the recipe:
Excerpted from Vegetables the Italian Way: Turning Simple and Fresh into Extraordinary. © 2026 Giulia Scarpaleggia. Photographs © Tommaso Galli. Reproduced with permission of Artisan Books. All rights reserved.
I've been following Giulia for several years. In fact, I might have found you through her blog. I pre-ordered her book as soon as she announced it and can't wait for it to arrive in a couple weeks!
Meryl x Giulia is making my heart so happy today. Love this interview!