
Chef Graziella
Carciofi alla Giudia
Artichokes pressed flat and fried twice until the leaves become bronze-gold and shatter at the touch. Four ingredients. Four centuries of technique. The crowning achievement of Roman Jewish cooking.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
The Roman way with bitter greens: boiled first, then tossed in a hot pan with garlic and peperoncino until the edges crisp and the bitterness sings. Simple, fierce, essential.
Romans understand bitter greens in a way that most Americans do not. They do not try to tame them. They do not balance them with sweetness or bury them under cheese. They boil them until tender, then ripassare, pass them again through a hot pan with garlic and chili, and serve them as they are: bitter, green, alive.
The word ripassata tells you everything. This is a two-step process, and both steps matter. The boiling tenderizes the tough leaves and mellows their harshness just enough. The pan gives them back their character, crisping the edges and saturating them with garlic-scented oil. Skip either step and you have not made this dish.
Cicoria is a contorno, a side dish, meant to stand beside roasted meat or grilled fish. But I have watched Romans eat it alone, with bread to soak up the oil, as a meal unto itself. The bitterness is the point. If you find yourself wanting to add something to soften it, you have missed the lesson entirely.
Cicoria ripassata belongs to the cucina povera of Rome and the surrounding Lazio countryside, where wild chicory has been gathered from fields for centuries. The ripassata technique, boiling greens then finishing them in a pan with aromatics, appears throughout central Italy but finds its purest expression in Roman trattorias, where bitter greens are served alongside abbacchio and other traditional secondo courses.
Quantity
2 pounds
cicoria catalogna or puntarelle leaves
Quantity
for the cooking water
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
3
lightly crushed
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon, or to taste
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
1
cut into wedges
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| chicorycicoria catalogna or puntarelle leaves | 2 pounds |
| kosher salt | for the cooking water |
| extra virgin olive oil | 1/4 cup |
| garlic cloveslightly crushed | 3 |
| dried peperoncino flakes | 1/2 teaspoon, or to taste |
| flaky sea salt | to taste |
| lemon (optional)cut into wedges | 1 |
Examine the chicory carefully. Remove any yellowed or damaged outer leaves. Trim the tough bottom of each head, about half an inch. If using catalogna, separate the leaves from the central stems. The stems can be eaten too, but they require longer cooking. Wash the leaves in several changes of cold water. Chicory grows close to the ground and holds grit.
Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Salt it generously. Add the chicory and push it down to submerge. Boil until the stems are completely tender when pierced with a knife, 8 to 12 minutes depending on the thickness and age of the greens. The leaves will look quite collapsed. This is correct. Drain thoroughly in a colander, pressing gently to extract excess water. The greens can sit at this point while you prepare the pan.
In a large skillet, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the crushed garlic cloves and cook, turning occasionally, until they are pale gold and fragrant, about 2 minutes. The garlic should perfume the oil without browning deeply. If it threatens to darken, reduce the heat immediately. Add the peperoncino flakes and let them sizzle in the oil for 15 seconds. The oil will take on a faint orange tint.
Add the drained chicory to the skillet all at once. Increase heat to medium-high. Toss and turn the greens vigorously, coating them completely with the flavored oil. The edges should sizzle against the pan. Cook for 3 to 4 minutes, turning frequently, until the greens are heated through and have absorbed the garlic and chili. Some edges may crisp slightly. This is desirable.
Remove the garlic cloves if you prefer, or leave them for those who want them. Taste the greens and add flaky salt as needed. Transfer to a warm serving dish. Serve immediately with lemon wedges on the side. The lemon is not mandatory, but many Romans squeeze it over the greens at the table. It brightens the bitterness without masking it.
1 serving (about 150g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Graziella
Artichokes pressed flat and fried twice until the leaves become bronze-gold and shatter at the touch. Four ingredients. Four centuries of technique. The crowning achievement of Roman Jewish cooking.

Chef Graziella
Whole artichokes stuffed with mint and garlic, braised slowly in olive oil until the tough leaves surrender and the heart becomes silk. This is how Romans have eaten artichokes for centuries.

Chef Graziella
Roman street food at its most fleeting: zucchini blossoms stuffed with mozzarella and anchovy, dipped in a batter of ice water and flour, fried until golden and shatteringly crisp.

Chef Graziella
Rome's answer to the potato gnocchi of the north: golden disks of semolina enriched with egg yolk, blanketed in butter and Parmigiano, baked until the edges crisp and the center stays creamy.