Vincigrassi alla Maceratese con Rigaglie

Combine the flour and eggs on a work surface, bring together into a smooth, firm dough, and knead for 8 to 10 minutes so the gluten relaxes enough to roll without springing back. Wrap and rest at room temperature for 30 minutes, then roll through a pasta machine to setting 6 — thin but not translucent. Cut into sheets to fit the baking dish, lay them on a lightly floured cloth, and allow to dry for 20 minutes until supple but no longer tacky to the touch, so the sheets hold their shape in the dish without tearing or fusing together during assembly.

Warm the olive oil in a wide heavy pan over medium heat, add the onion, celery, and carrot, and sweat without colour until fully softened, about 10 minutes, so the vegetables give body and sweetness to the sauce rather than sharp, raw flavour. Add the gizzards and hearts and cook, stirring regularly, for 30 minutes until the pieces have firmed and taken on a light, even colour — the pan should smell of concentrated poultry, not raw meat, which tells you the moisture has driven off and the meat will not weep into the sauce.

This is where the dish lives or dies. Raise the heat to high, add the chicken livers, and cook for exactly 5 minutes, no more — they must remain soft and just-set at the centre, pale pink within and not grey and crumbling, because overcooked liver turns grainy and bitter and cannot be rescued. Pour in the Vin Cotto or Marsala, let it bubble and reduce by half, scraping up all deposits so the wine-dark, oxidative fragrance lifts every caramelised bit of meat from the pan; then add the warm stock, reduce the heat, and simmer uncovered for a further 10 minutes until the sauce is slightly looser than a Bolognese. Season.

Melt the butter in a heavy saucepan over medium heat, add the flour, and stir constantly for 2 minutes to form a pale roux so the raw flour taste cooks out before the milk goes in. Add the warm milk in a steady stream, whisking without pause to prevent lumps forming as the starch swells, and continue to stir over medium heat until the béchamel coats the back of a spoon thickly but still flows — it must not set into a paste, or it will not spread between layers and will create dense, gluey seams in the finished dish. Scrape in the nutmeg, season with salt, and remove from heat.

Heat the oven to 180 °C and butter a deep rectangular baking dish generously. Spread a thin layer of béchamel across the base so the first pasta sheet does not grip and tear when the dish is served, then lay the first sheet and spoon over giblet sauce, béchamel, and a scatter of grated pecorino; repeat to build a minimum of 8 to 10 layers, shaving the truffle directly onto the sauce at alternate layers where it is used, so the warmth of the sauce opens its fragrance without the heat of the oven driving it off. Finish the final layer with a heavier hand of pecorino and small knobs of butter so the surface bakes to an even, pale gold mantle.

Bake for 40 to 45 minutes until the top is burnished and the edges are visibly crisped and pulling from the sides of the dish — the colour at the rim should reach a deep amber, and the centre must not wobble when the dish is gently shaken, which tells you the layers have set and will not collapse when cut.

Remove from the oven and rest, uncovered, for 20 minutes before cutting so the layers consolidate and portions hold their structure cleanly when lifted.