Pancetta

Marcie Turney, the culinary sovereign of the 13th Street restaurant row, spent the month of December hand-dipping chocolates. Her line of highbrow cocoa treats, Marcie Blaine, had so many holiday orders this year she had to recruit line chefs from two of her restaurants, Lolita and Barbuzzo, just to keep up. "Next year we need to hire a packing team," she says. Turney isn't the only area chef stepping out of the kitchen to create food-focused side businesses.

The chalkboard at Paesano's, the new sandwichery in the old butcher shop (and former Butcher's Cafe) at Ninth and Christian, lists offerings that don't defy description so much as, well, comprehension. Take, for one, the signature "Paesano" itself - tender, slow-roasted beef brisket with oven-roasted tomato, tangy horseradish mayo . . . and a fried egg. And there's this: the so-called Bolognese, which involves crispy fried, day-old lasagna Bolognese (it's far better than it sounds)

Cent'anni - the Italian toast to life that translates as "100 years" - seems to have about as many pronunciations as there are glasses of wine in a liter. So when people talk about the South Philadelphia restaurant with the same name, you never know how it is going to sound. North of Snyder Avenue, it seems to be john-don. South of Snyder Avenue it comes out something like chen-dahn. In Italy, it's more like chent-AH-nee. "Even I didn't pronounce it correctly when I first saw the name," admits owner-chef Paul Buck.

Ciro & Sal's Cookbook (Donald I. Fine, $18.95) is a lyrical testament to the world of food, complete with recipes from the well-known Provincetown, Mass., Italian restaurant. This Cape Cod eatery, founded in 1956, has been a haven for the artists and writers who frequent the New England enclave. Its homey and quaint character has prompted its loyal clientele to describe it as a civilized bistro. Co-founder and chef Ciro Cozzi and his daughter Alethea compiled the book's more than 200 recipes.

Getting fresh fava beans ready to use is a simple procedure of shelling them and then blanching to remove the outer skin. For 2 pounds of fresh fava beans in their pods you will need 2 quarts of heavily salted water, brought to boil, and a large bowl of ice. Remove beans from pods. Place in boiling water for one minute, counting from moment water begins to boil again. Strain; place immediately in ice water to stop the cooking. Once cooled, peel outer skin. Holding bean in one hand by end with the seam, pierce other end with fingernail; squeeze seam, and bean should slip right out. Makes about one cup peeled beans.

It seems inconceivable that a Philadelphia neighborhood can have existed this long without landing an Italian BYOB. Those satisfyingly simple trattorias have spread in epidemic proportions across the city in recent years, and become, like the corner coffee shop, the local tavern, or a convenient Wawa, one of the basic amenities of a quality urban life. So it's no surprise that my friends in Fairmount were frothing with excitement when they finally got their Gnocchetti Moment with the recent opening of L'Oca.

Tables across the country will be overflowing with myriad traditions on Thanksgiving Day. Most will have turkeys, some will have ethnic eats such as ravioli, collard greens, or kugel. But there's one thing all the holiday revelers will have in common: Scouring the fridge the next day and gorging on leftovers. "I actually look forward to the leftovers more than the dinner itself," says Peter McAndrews, chef and owner of Philadelphia's Modo Mio, Monsù, and Paesano's. It's a sentiment many hosts would repeat.

Here are some of Chef Carl Redding's recipes. Note that his soulful take on ravioli allows the cook to get creative in seasonings and sauces. SOULVIOLI 1 teaspoon salt 2 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra flour for kneading 2 eggs, lightly beaten 2 tablespoons water 2 cups cooked collard greens, squeezed dry, or 2 cups mashed sweet potatoes In a medium-sized bowl, combine flour and salt. Make a well in the flour, add the slightly beaten eggs, and mix. Mixture should form a stiff dough ball.

In Italy, if you're on the town, just looking to hang out and have some fun, the operative expression would be sfizzio. "Yes," says Antonio Scotto, "sfizzio is like doing something for fun. Eating when you're really not that hungry. Just having something for fun. " Naples-born Scotto likes the expression enough to have named his restaurant Sfizzio. And he has also followed through with a refreshing and colorful decor and a light, inexpensive menu. Sfizzio has taken shape where the Copper Penny once was. There is nothing about Sfizzio to remind you of the former restaurant.

As a boy growing up in Cape May, Bill Fischer was steeped in saltwater. During the long summer days, he could be found rock diving in the Cove with his brothers, leaping off wooden pillars into the surf like Shore birds at high tide. When high school ended, young Bill, like many of his friends, found himself on a boat steaming 18 hours out to sea in search of porgies, scallops, and fishing glory along the continental shelf. It was in his blood, and he was good, earning $46,000 on a scallop boat in a period of nine months.