
Chef Dean
Antipasto Tortellini Salad
Plump cheese tortellini tumbled with the greatest hits of the Italian deli counter, all glossed in a garlicky herb vinaigrette that improves as it sits. This is the potluck dish that comes home empty.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
Peppery arugula leaves tossed in nothing but fresh lemon and good olive oil, showered with curls of aged pecorino. A salad that proves the best cooking is knowing when to get out of the way.
Start with the arugula. It should be so fresh it practically squeaks, with leaves that stand upright and a peppery bite that tingles on your tongue. This is a salad where the ingredient is everything and technique is almost nothing.
In Italy, you find this on trattoria tables from Rome to Tuscany. The greens change with what the garden offers, but the principle stays the same: perfect leaves, good oil, a squeeze of lemon, curls of sheep's milk cheese. That is all. No vinegar, no garlic, no herbs competing for attention. Just four ingredients doing exactly what they were meant to do.
Your choices shape the food system. The arugula you buy from a farmer who grew it in real soil, picked it that morning, and handed it to you across a market table will taste different from leaves that traveled a thousand miles in a plastic box. You will know the difference in the first bite. The salad will tell you everything.
Quantity
6 ounces
preferably wild or baby
Quantity
2 ounces
in one piece for shaving
Quantity
1 large
juiced (about 3 tablespoons)
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
to taste
freshly cracked
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| fresh arugulapreferably wild or baby | 6 ounces |
| aged pecorino cheesein one piece for shaving | 2 ounces |
| lemonjuiced (about 3 tablespoons) | 1 large |
| extra-virgin olive oil | 1/4 cup |
| flaky sea salt | to taste |
| black pepperfreshly cracked | to taste |
Look at the leaves. They should be bright green with no yellowing, no sliminess, no tired edges. Wild arugula has narrow, deeply lobed leaves and a stronger peppery bite. Cultivated baby arugula is milder, rounder. Either works beautifully if it was picked recently. Smell the bunch. Fresh arugula has a clean, slightly spicy fragrance. If it smells like nothing, it will taste like nothing.
Fill a large bowl with very cold water and submerge the arugula. Swish gently, then lift the leaves out and let the grit settle. Repeat if your greens are sandy. Dry the leaves completely in a salad spinner, then spread them on a clean kitchen towel for a few minutes. Water on the leaves will repel the oil and dilute the dressing. This step matters more than any other.
Squeeze the lemon through your fingers to catch the seeds. You want about three tablespoons of juice. Pour the olive oil into a small bowl or measuring cup and add the lemon juice with a pinch of salt. Whisk briefly with a fork. Taste. The dressing should be bright and balanced, neither too tart nor too oily. Adjust as needed. No vinegar here. The lemon does all the work.
Place the dry arugula in your widest bowl. Drizzle about two thirds of the dressing over the leaves and toss gently with your hands, lifting and turning until every leaf is lightly coated and glistening. Add more dressing only if needed. The leaves should look alive, not drowned. Season with a pinch of flaky salt and a few grinds of black pepper.
Using a vegetable peeler, draw long, thin shavings from the block of pecorino directly over the dressed greens. Let them fall where they will. You want generous curls that will catch on the arugula and melt slightly on the tongue. Shave about half the cheese over the bowl, reserving the rest for individual plates.
Divide the salad among plates, piling it loosely so the leaves have height and air. Shave a few more curls of pecorino over each portion. A final drizzle of olive oil if you like. Serve at once. This salad waits for no one. The moment you dress it is the moment you eat it.
1 serving (about 82g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Dean
Plump cheese tortellini tumbled with the greatest hits of the Italian deli counter, all glossed in a garlicky herb vinaigrette that improves as it sits. This is the potluck dish that comes home empty.

Chef Dean
Sun-ripened tomatoes and milky fresh mozzarella layered with fragrant basil, finished with your finest olive oil and a whisper of sea salt. This is Italian cooking at its most honest: three ingredients, zero places to hide.

Chef Dean
The salad Caesar Cardini invented in Tijuana in 1924, with crisp romaine spears dressed tableside in a garlicky, anchovy-laced emulsion, scattered with crunchy croutons and snow-drifts of Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Chef Dean
Spiral pasta tumbled with crisp peppers, briny olives, and spicy pepperoni, all bound in a tangy homemade Italian dressing that improves as it sits. This is the dish that disappears first at every summer gathering.