Thinking About Christmas Eve & Baccalá

The question has been raised and lowered by many as to why we continue to produce and eat salted cod when there is no longer the need for it.  I guess part of it is tradition, and part of it is that salted and air-dried cod have different flavors and textures than fresh cod.  No matter how much soaking and delicate cooking you do, preserved cod never quite gets back to its original form.  Maybe that distinction is reason enough to continue the process.  

I didn't grow up with the tradition of eating strictly seafood on Christmas Eve...sometimes I wish I had but now I get to celebrate that way with Nicole's family.  I particularly look forward to cold Baccalá Salad, tossed in a lemony vinaigrette with crunchy vegetables and olives.  It wouldn't be the same with fresh fish, which would likely fall apart and turn to mush, whereas baccalá maintains its firmness.  So there you go.   

The feast, although very prominent among the most traditional of Italian-American families, is not necessarily celebrated throughout Italy.  It's more of a southern thing, which makes sense since most of us here trace our routes back to Il Mezzogiorno.

The dish featured here is Baccalá alla Napoletana, or in the style of Naples.  I've only made it with salted cod a couple of times, more often than not going for fresh cod since I can.  This isn't necessarily a must-have at Christmas, but it would certainly not be out of place at such a feast.    

Bell peppers, roasted, with onions, tomatoes and capers make for a familiar flavor profile throughout the southern parts.  As does fish lightly coated in flour and fried.  

This recipe is similar to others from Tuscany south that serve the fish in some variation of tomato sauce, but here the roasted peppers stand out, their smokiness and syrupy sweetness defining the dish.

I've been using chickpea flour rather than wheat for a long time because it's healthier and imparts a bit of earthiness to the fish, along with extra goldiness.  Either way, the light coating of just flour makes for just a thin crust, not too crunchy but enough to add some additional texture to the outside of the fish.  

The flavors are clean with little to no saturated fat.  Light enough for Summer, yet warming enough for any time of year, including the holidays.  

Serves 6

6 sweet red, orange or yellow bell peppers

3 medium onions, sliced

1 32 oz. can San Marzano Tomatoes

2 Tablespoons capers

Extra Virgin Olive Oil

3 lbs. fresh cod or salt cod, cut into individual portions

1 1/2 cups all purpose or chickpea flour

Vegetable Oil for frying

Salt & Pepper to taste

Optional: fresh Flat Leaf Parsley to garnish

If using salt cod, place it in a large container with cold water and soak it for 2 to 3 days, changing the water twice daily.  Drain and dry.  Carefully remove any bones or skin.

Roast the peppers on the grill until charred on all sides.  Place in a bowl and cover with plastic wrap for 15 minutes.  When cool enough to handle, peel off all the skin and remove the seeds, preserving as much liquid as possible.  Take the flesh and cut into strips.

In a large frying or saute pan heat a couple tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat.  When it's shimmering add the onions and toss to coat with the oil.  Turn the heat down to medium low and let the onions cook slowly, covered if need be so they get nice and brown without the edges burning too much first.

Separate the tomatoes from their juices and cut them into strips.  When the onions are nicely browned and soft, add the peppers and their juices, the tomatoes and their juices, and the capers.  Let the sauce cook for 10 to 20 minutes at a low boil to meld the flavors.  Season to taste with salt and pepper and leave simmering while you fry the fish.

In a heavy pot add the vegetable oil to a depth of 1 1/2 to 2 inches and bring it to medium heat, or 375 degrees.  Get a sheet pan ready with absorbent paper to drain the fish.  

Place the flour in a shallow dish big enough to dredge the fish fillets.  Salt and pepper the fish pieces, then dip them in the flour, turning to coat all over.  Shake off the excess flour and put them on a baking sheet.  You will probably need to fry in a couple to a few batches, so before each batch dredge the fillets once more just before going into the oil.  Fry for 4 minutes, then flip and fry another 4 minutes until they're golden brown, maintaining the heat of the oil at medium.  When they are finished frying, remove them to the pan with absorbent paper and season with a little more salt.  

Once they're finished, place the fried fish in the pan of sauce and cook at a simmer for 5 to 10 minutes on top, then garnish with parsley and serve hot.

Potato Gnocchi 101 With Julia, Sandra & Nicole (And Gina Showed Up Just In Time For Dinner)

There are lots of types of gnocchi, another one of those ubiquitous Italian hunger killers; made, for instance, from taters, bread, ricotta or semolina, with names like canederli, gnoche and pisarei (means little penises).  They are loosely considered pasta, being made mostly with carbs and dressed with sauces, but the variations comprise their own genre really.

One of the first things in our lesson was to get Jules and Sand pronouncing them correctly...nyoke-o (singular) or nyoke-ee (plural).  Saying it wrong is nothing to be embarrassed about; I've been mispronouncing Jojoba for a year or so now, for instance.  

A lot of potato gnocchi are dense, heavy-in-the-stomach pellets of dough with not that much discernible potato.  Usually that means the preparer has continued adding flour to the dough during kneading and forming because they're worried about the structural integrity and their ability to stand up to boiling water.

A good potato gnocco though should be light and tender so that when you put it in your mouth you need not push it to your molars to chew, but rather press it against the top of your mouth with your tongue so that it disintegrates, allowing you to really taste the potato and feel its starchiness on your tongue.  That's what my wife said.  

The best advice I've gotten on potato gnocchi was from a Piedmontese chef in Italy who told me to peel and rice the potatoes as soon as possible without burning yourself, spreading them out in an even layer on a work surface.  This allows maximum steam to be released, drying them out, which in turn means less flour will be needed to make the dough come together because of the lower water content.  The rule will also work for sweet potatoes or squash if those are the bases you're using.    

A nice and easy thing about most gnocchi too is that, unlike flour pastas, there's very little muscle needed for kneading and forming the dough .  Making and cooking the shapes is a quick process, especially with a couple bodies.  Sure, it may take time to get the proper technique for a bella figura, but as long as it floats, it's good eating.

Potato gnocchi often have ridges for holding on to sauce, courtesy of a special wooden board, but the tines of a fork work well too.  Julia and Sandra had a little trouble at first rolling the dough off their thumbs, but with some well floured hands and some time they got it...then the 3 bottles of Prosecco kicked in and the learning curve flattened out.  

You can form a first batch and boil them to test their integrity...if they hold up and come afloating after a couple minutes, they're good to go.  If not, add flour little by little to firm them up slightly, but don't go overboard.  A basic tomato sauce is a good accompaniment, slightly sweet and acidic, or butter and olive oil with grated cheese for a quicker, simpler alternative.

For our lesson/dinner I wanted something substantial though, a one dish meal kind of thing, so I made a beef brisket meat sauce as you can see.  It had a kind of stracotto (well cooked in Italian, their version of pot roast) aspect to it, with a base of tomato and some red wine, the meat shredded and chopped into tasty morsels.

Is it the prosecco or the thought of boiled potatoes?

Serves 6

For the Gnocchi Dough:
3 lbs. potatoes (Idaho, Russet, Yukons will all work)
2 eggs
1 1/2  to 2 cups all purpose flour
A couple pinches of salt

For the Meat Sauce:
1 2 1/2 to 3 lb. beef brisket, cut into 4 or 5 pieces
2 onions, finely diced
3 cloves garlic, finely diced
1 bay leaf
4 cloves (the spice)
1 cup dry red wine
1 32 oz. can San Marzano Tomatoes, pureed
1/2 tube of tomato paste
1 to 2 cups low sodium beef broth
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper to taste
Parmigiano Reggiano

Make the meat sauce a day or several hours in advance.  Salt and pepper the chunks of meat aggressively on both sides, leaving the layer of fat on the top of the brisket intact.

In a dutch oven heat a tablespoon or so of olive oil on medium heat, and when shimmering, add the beef, being mindful not to overcrowd the pan.  Let the beef seer several minutes until golden brown, then flip and do the same for the other side.  Remove to a platter and set aside.

When all the beef is seared, add the onions to the pan and deglaze to pick up all the brown bits.  Reduce the heat to medium low to sweat the onions and prevent browning, adding the garlic at this point.

Cook for 5 to 10 minutes, then add the cloves and bay leaf, and turn the heat to medium high, cooking another 2 minutes.

Add the wine and let it cook until almost evaporated, further deglazing if need be.  Add the tomato paste and let it cook 2 minutes until it turns a rusty color.

Add the beef broth and then tomatoes and bring to a boil, add the meat back and lower the heat to a simmer.  Cover and cook for 3 to 4 hours, flipping the meat a couple times and stirring occasionally, until the beef is very tender and pulls apart easily.

Remove the meat from the pot, discarding the layer of fat.  When cool enough to handle, chop into small, bite-sized pieces, small enough to dress the gnocchi properly.

Return the meat to the pot and cook another 15 to 20 minutes to meld the flavors, then season to taste with salt and pepper and turn off the heat.

To make the gnocchi, put the potatoes in a large pot in one pretty even layer, and cover by a couple inches with water.  Bring to a boil and cook another 20 to 30 minutes until the potatoes are easily pierced with a knife.  Drain and as soon as possible peel the skin and pass them through a ricer onto a work surface, spreading them out as much as possible.  Alternatively, you can use a potato masher, but a ricer is ideal for texture.

Once the potatoes have cooled so there is no visible steam coming off, add the eggs, flour and salt to the potatoes and bring together into a ball, then begin kneading it gently like bread or pasta dough.  Do this until it's cohesive and the ingredients are evenly distributed.  Take a hunk out of the dough and roll it into a long cylinder, about 1 inch in diameter.  Cut off pieces every inch or so and flour them lightly.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and salt it abundantly.

Using a gnocchi board or a fork, take the inside corner of your thumb and press down gently on the back edge of the dough, then drag it, rolling the dough over until it rolls off the fork.  It should be about a half rotation for the gnocco.  This should leave a dimple on the back end of the gnocco from your thumb, and ridges on the front end from the fork.  Don't press down too hard and crush the dough; just put enough pressure to grab hold and pull it along while impressing the fork on the bottom edge.

Cook a batch of the gnocchi in the boiling water until they float to the surface, 2 to 3 minutes, stirring gently 20 seconds after putting them in.  If they disintegrate in the water add a bit more flour to the dough.  Drain and serve dressed with the meat sauce, garnished with Parmigiano Reggiano.

You can also cook the gnocchi in batches as they're formed, draining them and putting them in a baking dish with enough of the meat sauce to coat.  At this point the gnocchi can't really overcook, and the time sitting in the meat sauce will allow them to absorb the flavor of the sauce to good effect.  Keep the baking dish in the oven on warm until finished.    

I'm available nights and weekends for lessons!

Thanksgiving 2010 Wrap Up

That's your idea of Thanksgiving dinner?!

As always it was a year of eyes writing checks tummies couldn't cash.  We split Thanksgiving with both our families, and even tried to design menus that would allow us to enjoy both meals.  Alas, it was still too much, too fast.  Even with a few hours in between feeding times, Nicole couldn't get halfway through the second dinner, while I managed a serving of dessert #2 before throwing the spoon down.

We made a good effort and we were grateful to have a lot of family around and two takes on the holiday meal.  First off at Nicole's was turkey with all the fixins.  While I won't waver from my opinions expressed in the pre-TG post, I admit the bird smelled real nice while it was roasting away.  Beyond that I got my fill mostly on the sides, with a bit of dark meat thrown in so I could say I had my requisite protein for the sitting.

Nicole made a smooth and earthy potato and celery root soup, pureed, for an appetizer at her family's get together, and we gilded the lily on this one with some truffle olive oil at the finish.  I am fundamentally opposed to truffle oil because I don't think there's such a thing in the true sense, but I will admit that if I closed my eyes and pretended, it did enhance the dish, which was already a very good start to the celebration.

For my part, I spent most of the day before the 25th breaking down ducklings for all the usable meat and a good portion of the rich fat I could get.  It was intended for a duck ragu to be served with fresh fettuccine, but I found that two 5 lb. ducklings only yielded a couple to a few pounds of meat.  After running back out for some mature duck breasts I had plenty with which to make the rich sauce.

Duck has a layer of solid, high quality fat around its lean muscle, and the two separate very cleanly and easily.  However, the fat renders very quickly and is useful for texture and flavor in the meat sauce, so most of it should be included.  I did probably throw away a few pounds of it nonetheless.  I felt like I should have saved the discarded portion and used it another time to make french fries, but I had to stick to the game plan.

With that the focal point of my family's meal, we decided we'd have a soup course first.  Roasted butternut squash soup has become almost a tradition, served with polenta croutons.  It's a beautifully simple recipe of only a handful of ingredients, the oven roasting concentrating the sweetness and flavor before being pureed smooth with homemade vegetable stock.

A soup followed by a rich pasta dish should be enough (especially after turkey, stuffing, casserole, mashes, etc.only a few hours before), but I felt leaving out some sides would make it a little austere for this occasion.  So I chose Brussels sprouts sauteed with American bacon (rather than pancetta as originally intended).  The Brussels are blanched to soften, then blackened on high heat with abundant bacon in it's rendered fat.  The salt and smokiness cut some of the richness and density of the Brussels, so I'm glad I went with it rather than unsmoked Pancetta.

Additionally I felt some kind of potato, mashed or not, was needed, so I also made mashed sweet potatoes with vanilla bean.  I roasted the potatoes whole in the oven rather than boiling (on the same principle as the squash) and then mashed them with just butter and the fresh vanilla.  The potatoes are the perfect sweetness with nothing added, the vanilla adding complexity that makes you wonder if it's dessert time while just a hint of salt rounds it out.

As I alluded to in the pre-TG post, dessert was not my department for this meal, so we stuck with the tried and true trio of pies; apple, pumpkin and super sweet pecan, which did me in.  Ginger ice cream was a new addition though (not homemade), and it offered a degree of palette refreshment and cleansing, a nice finish to the cornucopia. 

The conclusion was that even with the break between meals at each house and the break from tradition in the second sitting, it was too much.  The duck pasta would be a good choice for a Christmas meal, for instance. A simple pasta with vegetable would have done fine for Thanksgiving #2, or literally some salad with shrimp.  But then it would be just like a weeknight meal, which is what I wanted to avoid in the first place.

Recipes to follow...

Guest Post - Suspending Persnicketiness on Sunday: The McRib

By Nicole Zeoli

After non-stop morning radio show banter and endless TV commercials for what felt like months, the build up for the “re-release” of the McDonald's McRib sandwich finally got to me. Bobby heard enough of my “let’s go get a McRib, I really want a McRib, hehe, just kidding", and I was at the point where if I didn’t try one I might regret it the rest of my life. OK, I am being a little dramatic, but I literally had become obsessed with wanting to try this thing.

What really put me over the edge was the “throwdown” that the Z100 morning show had hosted, featuring renowned chef Bobby Flay and his version of a rib sandwich vs. the McDonald's McRib. With the large cast of New York-based DJ’s as the judges, I was sure native New Yorker Bobby Flay would win this, hands (throw) down. But, to my astonishment, just as I was pulling off the exit on I95 for work that morning they announced that the McDonald's McRib had won the throwdown. Blasphemy I tell you! The only thing (Ronald) McDonald's should win over Bobby Flay would be a contest of who’s hair is redder.

My decision had been made, and there would be no more joking about this- I was just going to have to see for myself, what the heck all this hype was. So as Bobby and I (my Bobby, not Mr. Flay of course, although they easily could be mistaken for each other with their red hair and amazing cooking skills) were out running errands last Sunday and the hunger pains ensued we put the little black Jetta that could in route to the closest Mickie D’s we could find.

We could hardly contain ourselves as we pulled up to the drive through menu board (which, of course we didn’t have to reference)- we knew exactly what we were there for… “Welcome to McDonalds” one voice said, “can I interest you in a chocolate triple thick milk shake today?” (Say that five times fast.) Before I could open my mouth Bobby had politely declined, “no thanks,” after which immediately following we heard, “how can I help you today?” in completely different voice than the previous… I guess only certain people are cut out to say, without stumbling, “chocolate triple thick milk shake.”

Although we passed on the shake, we did realize we’d need something to help wash down the McRib we’d just ordered… “and a medium diet Coke.” As we were pulling away after we heard our total, $5.59, I quickly glanced at the menu board, and smack dab front and center there stood a McRib value meal offer, including a medium drink AND fries, for a mere $.20 more than what we were about to pay. But we weren’t there for the award-winning French fries (which I had treated myself to only two weeks prior), we had to get down to business.

As Bobby handed me the bag to open, the smell of sweet and tangy barbecue sauce filled the small cabin of our little Jetter. The excitement was overwhelming, reminiscent of the feeling I used to get as a little kid opening my happy meal box to discover what toy I was getting. I managed to be patient enough to snap a photo quickly, before I took it from the box (that had BBQ sauce all over it and made a mess on my hands) and took the first bite (Bobby was driving and while I was patient, I wasn’t about to wait for him to find a good place to pull over or a stop sign)!

I chewed it well and tried to taste all the flavors it was supposed to have… It was covered in raw onions, and the BBQ sauce seemed to be more of an afterthought (along with the two tiny pickle slices) as it was certainly lacking on the rib patty. I handed the sandwich to Bobby as we pulled up to a stop sign with no other cars in site… He got lucky and snagged one of the pickles with his first bite. However, he too felt the lack of BBQ flavor, and the raw onions just completely overpowered anything else. 


The actual pork patty itself wasn’t as “McDonalds-like” as we expected--it wasn’t fatty or really chewy; it seemed to be a pretty decent texture by fast-food standards. But we still didn’t find the pork flavors we were looking for--I’d compare it to the blandest of a “white-meat” pork chop. Maybe it’s because lately we’ve been really big on slow-cooked pork dishes that involve a vast array of flavors and an extremely tender and “melt in your mouth” texture. But if the pork flavors weren’t there, at least they could have supplemented with some extra BBQ sauce- or even a BBQ sauce that resembled actual sweet and tangy BBQ sauce we’re used to. The one used on the McRib fell extremely short of zest as well, leading us to search and search for any pop of flavor as we chewed and chewed away. RATS!

Though we both were extremely disappointed with the McRib, we proceeded to finish the sandwich, halfsies style, and consumed the 500 calories and 24 grams of fat as planned. All of a sudden, a strangely familiar feeling hit me, and I was once again brought back to my childhood days… And there’s that Happy Meal again… Oh, it’s only a paper doll. (How come Joe always got the cool toy cars?!?!)

Jeff's Cuisine, South Norwalk

Hey Everybody!

Recently I had the pleasure of dining at Jeff's Cuisine in South Norwalk with Nicole, Gina, Melanie and James.  The link below takes you to a review I did for CTbites.com:

Jeff's Cuisine in Norwalk: Smokin' BBQ & Soul-full Food

Thanks and congrats to Leslie & Dean on baby Gia!

What Do I Want To Eat For Thanksgiving This Year?!

I've been on the outs with turkey for a few years now.  Last year for TG I burned the bridge and made Cornish hens for everybody, but even those left me totally unimpressed.  My problem is really with poultry.  I just don't hold it in high enough regard to serve it on special occasions.  You get a few good helpings of dark meat and  then you're stuck with pounds of big breasted'd white meat that can't be helped that much even by the briniest of brines.  Maybe I should try it deep fried before I give up on it for good, but otherwise... 

My lack of regard for poultry as a holiday centerpiece is that it's so ordinary.  I eat rotisserie chicken once every couple weeks as an affordable and easy grocery store pickup, which I enjoy, and I eat sliced turkey on sandwiches for lunch pretty often, also good.  Then there's ground turkey, again something I like, but something I eat on a Tuesday night rather than the biggest food holiday on our calendar.

This isn't a revelation for most people who readily acknowledge that they come for the fixins. Getting down to brass tax, turkey is the beast of burden on which the gravy, sauce, and hodge podge of sides ride.  What I'm saying is for my money I'd like to diverge from the turkey trot to have a protein more dynamic, more pleasing in and of itself, which to me means almost anything but poultry.  What about the issue of staying true to the original pilgrims and what they would have or might have eaten?  Well, why not roasted fish or even lobster?  They probably had those things readily available in 1621.      

I like the idea of trying to observe an early settlers' meal, but I think it's open to interpretation, and getting people together to share good local, seasonal food in a harvest festival is how it began and why we celebrate.  Besides, most of the dressings and accompaniments people liken to Thanksgiving tradition were probably invented in the 1950s or 1960s.

The influence of the Food Network and our increasing awareness of what we eat has changed my mentality over the past several holidays to promote quality over quantity.  People are sometimes incredulous at the idea of this dish or that being omitted from the menu simply because it's been there as long as they can remember, but when six pretty good things are replaced by three real nass things and you even take the time to have distinct courses, it's a proper celebration to me.

I'm not Italian [american] enough to have had a pasta course as a starter during my Thanksgivings growing up, but I really like the idea.  You may think it's way too untrue to the pilgrims, but few people know that one of the original Mayflower passengers, John Tilley, was really born Gianni Puzzaculo, from Agrigento.  You don't have to go Italian though to have a multi-course meal; it's just a way to break up the eating and give people time to enjoy the spectrum of flavors usually present. 

I'm not trying to be preachy, so if you really look forward to turkey every November, good for you and enjoy.  

Some things swirling around my mind:

Appetizers/1st Course
Butternut squash soup with fried polenta croutons
Butternut squash ravioli with sage and brown butter
Ricotta gnocchi with brown butter
Cavatelli with parsnips and pancetta
Roasted beet salad with bleu cheese and toasted walnuts
Spinach salad with bacon, bleu cheese and pomegranate
Schiacciatta (focaccia) with grapes and robiola
Spiced roasted nuts (Nicolee Zeoli Special)

Main Course
Roasted loin of lamb with rosemary
Red wine braised venison with juniper and dried cherries
Oven roasted seabass filets with roasted root vegetables
Roasted pork belly alla porchetta (fennel, garlic, herbage)
Coffee braised pork shoulder with apricot and caramelized onion relish
Fettucine with duck ragu

Sides
Roasted sweet potatoes and parsnips with rosemary
Mashed sweet potatoes with vanilla
Roasted brussels sprouts with garlic and hazelnuts
Good old mashed potatoes
Mashed potatoes and celeriac 
Dressing with sausage, apples and chestnuts
Sauteed kale with dried cranberries
Sweet rosemary and olive oil bread
Sweet potatoes au gratin
Spinach and wild mushroom dressing
Spiced pears cooked in wine

I don't think there's anything wrong with the tried and true desserts so I have nothing to add there.  Although a pumpkin panna cotta is nice.

Why Fresh Pasta Was Invented: Tagliatelle alla Bolognese

Called "La Grassa", Bologna is "the fat one" of Italy.  Animal fat that is, the saturated kind.  Nowhere else is food more unctuous, more savory and verging on gluttonous.  Ironically, the region is not known for the character of its wines, so you have to bring the barolo or amarone with you.   

As you head north in Tuscany and Le Marche the hills become steeper and composed of coniferous forests rather than arid and Cypress laden, then it begins to flatten out as you near Bologna and the heart of Emilia-Romagna.  Ecco the Po River Valley, a big stretch of pretty flat land unlike most of the boot.  Olive groves dwindle and are replaced by fields of corn, wheat and grazing land for cattle and swine.  This is the historical basis for the increased use of butter and lard for cooking in this region and further north as opposed to olive oil.  And not that it has always been wealthy, but there is a longer history of egg pasta than in the regions to the south, which produced factory made semolina and water pasta for the masses.

Of all the regions of Italy, Emilia Romagna is where fresh pasta is elevated to its highest degree of refinement.  Silky egg noodles and shapes like fettuccine, pappardelle, tortellini and cannelloni are dressed with rich sauces of pork, butter, cream (maybe ketchup) and inevitably topped with another of the area's great contributions to food, scratch that, to mankind, Parmigiano Reggiano.

So bolognese sauce is the essence of the region's cuisine, encapsulating all the elements I've just mentioned in one dish.  I could eat it all year, but the chill of mid Autumn stokes the appetite for hearty dishes like this one.  A sauce, yes, but not a runny one really...and a tomato sauce with meat in it is a misconception since it's the other way around.

Bologna, like so many italian towns, looks proper in the Fall when it takes on its most medieval appearance.  Something about seeing your breath, grey overcast skies against the stone and brick buildings, bare trees, street vendors roasting chestnuts, the smell of burning wood...

As you can imagine, there is no universal recipe for the sauce that all Emilians abide by.  Some recipes call for a bit of tomato paste and that's it, others for canned tomatoes, some use chicken stock while others beef, etc.  Everyone is sure their recipe is the just one, but nobody can say...the beauty of italian food and parochial uber-pride.  There is, however, a decree by the town of Bologna as to the width of Tagliatelle;  8 millimeters.  As you can see from the first picture I took some artistic license and mine are somewhere between tagliatelle and pappardelle.  

The last time I made this dish we pulled out a bottle of "Planet Waves" 2002 from Fattoria Le Terrazze that I'd been saving.  From Le Marche, it's comprised of 75% montepulciano grapes and 25% merlot.  They are kind of a cult producer, growing mostly montepulciano but blending some labels with international varieties, naming their wines things like Chaos and Visions of J.  Bob Dylan collaborated on some level for this wine and so his signature is on the back.

It was deep purple with aromas of mocha and dried fruit, a long finish and really smooth.  We were ready for another bottle in about 10 minutes.  The  pasta was rich with layers of flavor developed over time by cooking and deglazing repeatedly, and because it's on the salty side a tannic red would not be a good match.  Fortunately with age the tannins of this wine were soft and mellow yet it was full enough to hold its own against the fattiness.  Noice!

If you have time make a chicken or meat stock in advance because it will make for that much better a dish (I ain't kidding, and it's not a big deal to do).  You can also grind your own meats or have the butcher do it rather than buying it already ground in the package.  For the pork pick shoulder and for the beef chuck.

Serves 6

Ingredients:
2 lbs. ground beef, 20% fat
2 lbs. ground pork
1/2 lb. ground pancetta (if not, finely diced)
2 medium onions, finely diced
2 carrots, peeled and finely diced
2 celery stalks, finely diced
1 cup whole milk
1 cup dry white wine
2 tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 tube or small can tomato paste
1 liter low sodium broth or stock (chicken or beef or a blend)
Salt and pepper to taste
Parmigiano Reggiano to taste

Egg pasta dough for 6, recipe follows

Bring the stock to a boil in a pot, then lower to a simmer.

After cooking the meats through and allowing them to brown
you get these nice bits

Add the olive oil and pancetta to a Dutch Oven or other heavy pot and bring up to medium high heat.  Let the pancetta cook so the fat is rendered out.  When it starts to brown add the other meats and turn the heat to high.

Cook, stirring occasionally until the meat is cooked through and the liquid has evaporated, 10 to 15 minutes.  Let it brown some, stirring more frequently now, and then transfer to a bowl.  Try to drain the excess rendered fat and discard it (be careful though while it's hot).

After removing the meat and excess fat add the mirepoix to
deglaze and pick up deep meaty flavor

Return to the pot to the heat, lowered to medium.  Add the butter, let it melt, add the vegetables and deglaze the brown bits stuck to the bottom.  Sweat the vegetables until they are soft but not yet browning, 5 to 10 minutes.

Add the meat back to the pot along with the tomato paste and stir to distribute it.  Let it cook a couple minutes until the paste turns a rusty color.  Deglaze with the white wine, and let most of it evaporate.  Add the milk and let it cook a minute or so, then add broth to just barely cover the meat.  Bring to a boil and then lower the heat so it simmers gently.



Let it cook uncovered, adding liquid periodically as it fully evaporates, for 2 to 3 hours.  It can be made in advance and then refrigerated or frozen for several days.

Looks like Manwich filling but it's a slightly different recipe

To serve, bring a pot of water to a boil and season abundantly with salt (like the ocean).  Cook the pasta 3 to 4 minutes until begins floating to the surface of the water.  Drain and reserve some pasta water.  In a frying pan heat some ragu and toss with the pasta, adding tablespoons of pasta water if it's too thick. Or drain the pasta and place in a large serving bowl, then mix in the ragu.  Garnish with Parmigiano Reggiano and serve in pasta bowls.      

Egg pasta for 6:
6 jumbo eggs
600 grams or about 5 cups 00 or AP flour

Mound the flour on a work surface and make a well about 8 inches in diameter.  Add the eggs to the well and scramble with a fork.  Using the fork incorporate the flour from the inner walls into the egg.  Be careful not to break the wall and lose the eggs before you have a fairly well composed mass of dough.  Put the fork aside when most of the wet and dry are mixed and form a rough ball.

Knead the dough for 8 to 12 minutes, adding flour conservatively if it's very wet and resting periodically, until the dough stretches and is supple and smooth.  Wrap it in plastic and let rest 20 to 30 minutes.

To make the tagliatelle, using a pasta roller or rolling pin roll out segments of dough until it's thin enough for light to pass through.  Cut it into a rectangle that's 10 to 12 inches long on one side (that'll be the length of the noodles).  Lightly flour the dough if it's sticky and roll it over itself from bottom to top.  Then take a knife and cut every 8 millimeters or thereabouts and unravel the noodles.  Form into little nests of about a serving apiece.  Lightly flour if you're worried about sticking.  Freeze it if you don't place on using it immediately.  To cook it later do not thaw--go from freezer to boiling water.

Simple But Splendid: Scallops & Mash

Sweet, buttery diver scallops and the earthiness of celery root mashed with potatoes.  It looks elegant yet it's easy to make and requires very little time.  Something to impress a date or the ball and chain with perhaps.

When it's raw celery root has a pleasant flavor a notch or two in intensity down from the stalks, and a snap to it not quite as crisp as an apple.  Slice it thin or into matchsticks for a salad.  When it's cooked it mellows out some but it will still imbue a soup or accompanying vegetables with its fragrance.

Potatoes, when boiled, take very well to butter and creamy flavors, but you don't need that much if you want to really taste them.  I exercised some restraint I would say, adding about 3 tablespoons of butter when I was making the mash.  You could omit the potatoes altogether but then it wouldn't be quite as well rounded in flavor and texture.  You could also puree the vegetables instead of mashing them if you want something smoother.  But I wanted the odd chunk from bite to bite so I did it the old fashioned way.

The diver scallops used were simply seasoned and seared about 2 minutes per side.  They should be opaque and browned on the top and bottom, while the middle will remain translucent.  That doesn't mean they're raw, just less cooked in the middle, which is what you want.  Cooked all the way through will ruin the texture.  If you go any more than 3 minutes a side in a pan on high heat, you're cutting it close.

I garnished only with some good olive oil, but you can make a quick pan sauce with the browned bits left over and some wine/stock, or just some well aged balsamic.  The sweet scallops though do just fine with little or nothing else for me.

Serves Four As a First Course

1 lb. diver scallops, white membranes removed
2 medium celery roots, peeled, cut into 1" cubes
2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled, cut into 1" cubes
3 tablespoons of butter
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Optional: vegetable or canola oil to sear the scallops
Salt & pepper to taste  

Place the vegetables in a pot and cover by 2 inches with cold water.  Bring it up to a boil and cook for an additional 12-15 minutes or until the vegetables are easily pierced with a fork.  Drain and let cool.

Get a large mixing bowl or use a stand mixer, and place the vegetables in it.  Add the butter and begin mashing or mixing.  Taste periodically and add salt and butter to taste, some olive oil too if you like.  Set aside but keep warm.

Pat the scallops dry on all sides and season with salt and pepper.  Heat oil in a large frying pan on high until it smokes, then add the scallops.  Cook for about 2 minutes, then flip and cook another 2 minutes or until they are just firm when pressed.  Remove from the pan.

Make a base of the mashed vegetables on the plate and place 3-4 scallops on top.  Garnish with Extra Virgin Olive Oil and black pepper and serve.  

No Bitter Broccoli [rabe] Face: Rapini with Sausage

My parsley plant showed me up.  Here I am thinking one last harvest and it's done for the year, yet it has recovered fully and is ready for service once more.

Anyway, I love lots of things bitter; espresso, radicchio, campari, certain beers.  While some people like the full bitter and mustardy flavor of broccoli rabe and don't do anything to alter its natural state, I like it toned down a bit and a little sweeter. Blanching in water with ocean-like salinity for just a couple minutes keeps the rabe bright green, adding visual appeal on the plate.  It also takes away some of the bitterness that is associated with the the turnip and not kale (like broccoli is) family vegetable.   

Once I've boiled the rabe aka rapini I dress it like a salad with a hot bath if you will or won't of garlic and hot pepper-spiked olive oil.  Instinct would be to take the rapini out of the water and add it to a saute pan in which you've got garlic sizzling in oil, but I do it another way to avoid overcooking.  I keep the florets and stems in one piece, which can be troublesome during cooking because the tiny buds are delicate and cook faster than the stalks.  So I judge by when the florets are done, just a couple minutes, which leaves the stems pleasantly al dente.  The hot and spicy oil, infused with softened but not burned garlic, is a play on bagna caȏda, a Piedmontese recipe for a hot bath in which to dip crudités.

While I like my vegetables and pastas on the dry side, dressed like a salad and that's it, Nicole likes them brothy with some liquid to zop up.  If you're like her reserve the water you've blanched the rabe in and there you go.  If it's too salty water it down a bit. 

The addition of sausage takes this from side dish to meal, and although some turkey or chicken sausages are tasty, pork still rules.  If you want to get really crazy cook some orecchiette or gavadeel in the rapini water and dance the tarantella.  

Serves 4

Ingredients:
2 heads broccoli rabe, bottom inch or so of stalks cut off and discarded
4 cloves garlic, sliced
Salt & pepper to taste
1/4 cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Hot pepper flakes to taste
2 lbs. italian sausage, sweet or hot

Bring a pot of water to a rolling boil and salt abundantly.

Put about 1/4 inch of water in a saute pan and arrange the sausages in one even layer.  Prick them in a couple places with a fork.  On medium high heat cook the sausage, covered, 15-20 minutes, then remove the lid and let the water evaporate.  Allow the sausages to brown in their own fat for another 5-10 minutes until cooked through, then turn off the heat.  Let cool slightly then slice into bite size pieces.

Make the hot oil bath by placing the garlic cloves and hot pepper flakes in the oil in a small saucepan.  Turn the heat on to medium and bring the oil up to a sizzle, allowing the garlic to cook slowly and infuse the oil, 6-8 minutes.  Turn off the heat before the garlic begins to brown; it will continue to cook several minutes off the heat.

Blanch the broccoli rabe, in batches if necessary, for about 2 minutes until the stems are al dente.  Remove and drain, then place in a baking dish or in a serving bowl.  Dress with the hot oil and toss to coat.  Add cooking water for a more brothy dish.  Toss in the sausages, season to taste with salt, pepper and pepper flakes, maybe a little more olive oil, and serve hot.  

 

Parsley's Time to Shine: Tabbouleh

With the first chill in the air recently I decided to tap my fledgling parsley plant and put it to one last good use for the year.  Tabbouleh trumps all other things I can think of in terms of the most parsley used in any single dish, so what better way to celebrate the last big bunch?  By the way I mean flat leaf parsley--stay away from the curly stuff.

I'm not an expert but most variations I've seen of this dish treat it as fresh parsley featuring bulgur, while I prefer mine to be a bulgur salad featuring parsley.  As much as I appreciate the breath assuring fragrance of it, parsley is strong and tends to be a little rough in texture.  Chopping it and letting it sit with oilve oil and acid like lemon juice moderates it, but I don't like to dress mine with too much of either.  So I make it more of a meal Jerry with a heavy hand on the bulgur, and a balance of parsley and tomato for flavor.

Bulgur is great because it's par-boiled cracked wheat, which means it can be ready in as little as 15 minutes and has the elite status of whole grain.  I actually prefer it to couscous in a lot of applications due to its superior nuttiness.  And medium coarse bulgur, which I always use, is nice and chewy.  It can be steeped in warm or hot water for 15 minutes then drained, or made like pilaf into a hot dish.  It's not an exotic or expensive grain though and is available in most supermarkets or specialty stores nowadays. 

The end of Summer/beginning of Fall seems like a perfect time to make it too because it's when local tomatoes, a key ingredient, are really peaking. Don't let the time of year stop you though; parsley and tomatoes (I switch to mostly grape ones in the Winter) are available any time. 

Serves 6

Ingredients:
3 cups bulgur wheat
4 ripe medium tomatoes
1/4 to 1/2 of a small onion, finely diced
2 full bunches worth of flat leaf parsley
juice of 2 medium lemons
Extra Virgin Olive Oil to taste
Salt & Pepper to taste

Put the bulgur in a bowl and cover by a couple inches with room temperature water.  Let it sit for 15-20 minutes at least, then drain well, squeezing or pressing as much excess water out as possible. 

Take the tomatoes and slice them, then with a small knife or spoon scoop out the the seeds and inner liquid (save it if you can think of another way to use it).  Take the remaining flesh and dice.

Separate the parsley leaves from the stems, discarding the stems (or save them to make stock).  Roughly chop the parsley a few times over but do not make it fine.

Assemble the dish by gently mixing the bulgur, tomatoes, onion and parsley together, then add the lemon juice and a couple tablespoons of olive oil.  Avoid too much oil though because it will make the salad heavy and dense, whereas you want something fluffy.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Refrigerate for at least an hour before serving.  Or let it sit overnight and then remove from the fridge about an hour before serving.

Stuffed Zucchini

Zucchini can be bland and easily disintegrate when cooked too long over direct heat.  But with this method of quick cooking in the less intense heat of the oven, their sweetness is maintained as well as the appreciated crunch.  Being so mild they work well as a vehicle for savory fillings like capers and olives, or cheese of varying sharpness.  Adding ground meat gives them significant substance but the dish remains very healthy.

I begin with onions, saute them until softened (insert garlic here if you want) and then add the ground meat and cook until its liquid has evaporated and its beginning to brown in the residual fat.  Then I add some capers and the zucchini flesh at the end or even off the heat because it's so delicate that it takes very little to turn it to mush.  It will get a second chance at heat anyway in the oven.  Off the heat I grate a generous amount of cheese (parmigiano or pecorino work well), and let it melt into the meat.  Mint, parsley, basil, tarragon--lots of herbs will work as an added dimension of flavor.  

In to the oven at 400º-425º for 15-20 minutes to help mold the filling to the zucchini canoes and crisp the edges, and they're ready.  Or let them cool to just above room temp.  Or eat them the next day like a hot dog, which actually works best of all.

Ingredients:

4 medium to large zucchini, halved lengthwise, flesh removed and roughly chopped
2 medium onions, diced
3 lbs. ground meat of choice, at least 10% fat
1 teaspoon capers
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Salt & pepper to taste
handful of parsley or other herb, finely chopped
Parmigiano Reggiano or other grating cheese to taste

Homemade Pasta Basilicata Style

One of my hobbies involves going on Google Maps satellite view and looking for towns in Southern Italy and then Wikipedia-ing them to see if there's anything of note about them. It pumps my nads when, for instance, a tiny little hilltown with population of 3,000 happens to be the birthplace of Robert DeNiro's great grandparents (Ferrazzano) plus some italian poet or scientist to boot. Call me crazy, but I like when seemingly random and totally overlooked places have these curious facts about them. It works pretty much anywhere in the world these days even if Wikipedia isn't always 100% reliable. So maybe there's an italian who does the same as me with places like Sprague, Connecticut. Ever heard of it?

Anyway, I was browsing around Basilicata, which next to Molise is the least recognized italian region in my opinion. It's the arch of the foot on the boot that is Italy, surrounded by Calabria to the west, Campania to the north and Puglia east. It's got a very low population density and was historically poor, at least since after the days when it was a part of the Magna Grecia. No major modern cities to speak of, and that's what fascinates me.

Basilicata's cuisine reminds me a lot of Calabrian cuisine; extremely simple, a penchant for hot pepper, lots of pork and local cheeses, dried pasta as a staple. This is the type of place where people improvised, often lacking the milled and softened white flours that we take for granted. Buckwheat, unhulled wheat, burnt wheat, semola, chickpea flour all comprise the grain repetoire you'll find throughout Italy, used for centuries by commoners to make meals.

So I got inspired to use on of my staples, chickpea flour, to fashion my interpretation of mischigli and what would be a recognizeable sauce in Basiliacata. I went back to my pasta making roots, recalling the first pasta I ever learned to make during my time in Italy, cecaluccoli.

Snowed in to the irpinian mountains a couple hours east of Naples for two months during the frosty winter in 2005, I would spend a slow lunch service once a week hand crafting this cavatelli clone at the restaurant where I interned. Aside from its name, another curious thing about it is that we'd boil the water before mixing it with the flour to make the dough. Made for a tender pasta. Hours would go by and bags and bags of it would be flash frozen, after I'd shaped it, for later use.

The Mischigli of Basilicata resemble Ceccaluccoli, sort of crude Cavatelli.  

The sauce is comprised of bell peppers, hot pepper, garlic and onion with ricotta salata to garnish. The traditional cheese would be cacioricotta, which is a blend of cheese and the byproduct ricotta that produces something similar to the ricotta salata I used. I opted to employ only green peppers because I want that distinct fresh pepper flavor but not all the sweetness of more mature peppers. Besides, the onions bring plenty of sugar.

Serves 4 with leftovers most likely

Ingredients:

Pasta Dough:

2 cups 00 or all purpose flour
2 cups chickpea flour
1 to 1 1/4 cups water

Sauce:
4 green bell peppers, cut into strips about 2 inches long, 1/2 inch wide
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 medium onions, sliced 1/2 inch thick
1 jalapeno or other hot pepper, minced
Salt and pepper to taste
Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Cacioricotta or Ricotta salata for garnish

Mix the flours in a bowl or on a board, then add the water gradually (try boiling it first if you want), starting with 1 cup and stir with a wooden spoon to bring it together into a loose ball. If it feels really dry add water bit by bit. Once the spoon stops being useful begin using your hands and fingers to work the mass into a more cohesive ball. Then turn it out onto a board and begin kneading, letting it rest periodically if need be, until you've achieved a smooth ball. Wrap it in plastic and let it rest 30 minutes.

Cut off a piece from the ball and roll back and forth
while moving hands away from each other

Cut and keep rolling until you get snakes like these

Cut them incrementally to about 1 inch pellets

Press down almost through the dough
and roll toward you at the same time

Complete the roll so that the leading edge turns up

Now you'll have that signature channel running
through the "mischiglio"

Bring a pot of water to boil and salt it abundantly.

For the sauce, heat the olive oil in a pan over medium high heat and when hot add the peppers and onions. Let them cook undisturbed 5-10 minutes so that when you toss or mix for the first time the bottom has gotten a good bit of color. Continue to cook, stirring occasionally until the onions and peppers are softened and the onions well colored. Make a well in the middle of the pan, add the hot pepper and garlic, and let it cook for a couple minutes, then stir to combine everything. Continue cooking a couple minutes more to meld the flavors. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Cook the pasta for 5-6 minutes, tasting it once it floats for doneness. Drain and mix in the pan with the vegetables. Garnish with some oilve oil and ricotta salata and serve.

Quick Chicken Hunter Style: Al Cacciatore

Chicken cacciatore is to me the stereotypical idea of what an Italian would do with pieces of chicken...put 'em with tomato sauce! That's not quite it, but not exactly wrong either. A ubiquitous dish in Italy from what I've found, open to lots of interpretations depending on who you talk to. It's a good weeknight meal; quick, not laborious and covering most or all your needs in one pot.


Mine doesn't really draw from any particular place. The idea is to simply brown chicken pieces in oil in a braising pot (cast iron works best), then add some herbs and vegetables, get a good layer of brown bits going on the bottom, de-glaze and create a sauce with wine, stock and/or tomatoes. Last time I had leftover basic tomato sauce and I used that instead of canned tomatoes, which already had its depth of flavor so the end result was even more ricco.

Mushrooms are a common addition and the dish is transformed if you splurge for some haughtier ones like oyster, trumpet, or porcini if you can find them (but dried ones will endow it with some serious woodsiness in no time). That's one route but I included just bell peppers last time I made it, for instance. You can simmer everything just enough to cook the meat through, or until it's falling off the bone if you've included them.

I use boneless, skinless thighs because they are naturally tender and flavorful. Any cut will do, but breasts will definitely be the least interesting. It all comes together in 30-40 minutes and is both satisfying and healthy. It's got that wintry kind of feeling to it if you go for rosemary and other Christmasy herbs as Nicole refers to them, but it can really work any time of year.

Eggless Pasta Dough & Bucatini All' Amatriciana

This isn't a knee jerk reaction to the great egg recall of Summer 2010. I will say don't eat eggs from giant farms that look like that scene from Napoleon Dynamite where he gets paid for a day's work in change and drinks some deep orange drink with egg yolks stirred in to it. Was it all egg yolks or OJ or something?

It's because I wanted to make Bucatini all' Amatriciana, to which I've referred multiple times in recent posts about Rome. I got a new contraption thanks to a Williams Sonoma Gift Card from the wedding, the Kitchen Aid Pasta Press. Not a roller, but a press that forces the dough through plates to create noodles and shapes difficult to do by hand. Among the forms that can be created with it are one of my faves, Rigatoni, and one of the more difficult ones to find in stores, Bucatini.

Kitchen Aid only lists recipes for dough with eggs in them but I know traditionally rigatoni, macaroni and bucatini were semolina flour and water pastas, so I couldn't bring myself to use an egg dough. I had a feeling I might regret my decision, that the machine would reject it, but I am a stickler for tradition in these matters. I know we live in an era of abundance, but if the originators of the recipe made it with flour and water because they had to, then I'm going to follow suit.

The slight problem with making eggless semolina dough is in bringing it together by hand. The semolina makes for a coarse, tough dough, which is why I cut it 50% with unbleached all purpose or 00 flour. Dried pasta you buy in stores is comprised solely of semolina, which is really difficult to work by hand or even a non-commercial mixer.

I've been to the DeCecco factory in Fara San Martino (Abruzzo) and seen their production, which requires massive presses and kneading machines that take the semola and water mixture and force it into familiar shapes. The durum wheat semolina and water look too dry to come together, but with thousand of pounds of force they churn out a multitude of shapes and sizes. With just my two guns at home to help me I can't quite muster that kind of force, so I compromise slightly with the bit of white flour.

It helps considerably with any pasta dough to let it rest periodically during the kneading process. A three to five minute break will do wonders in terms of relaxing the dough and allowing it to become pliable again. Do it as much as you need to to save your triceps and transform the dough into a smooth ball.

If you don't have the attachment you can improvise as so many contadine did for generations.

Wooden skewers, stalks of wheat (grab some from the backyard) or the metal ribs used to provide rigidity to an umbrella can be used.

Take a bit of dough, roll it into a long dowel and cut off tootsie roll portions. Then take the instrument of choice, press it into the dough and begin rolling it back and forth.

This will flatten and force the dough outward, while also keeping it hollow. Time consuming, yes, but it can be done! I've made a Calabrian pasta called Scilatelle in just this way with, yes, wheat stalks.
As for the sauce, hailing from the little town of Amatrice, now in Abruzzo, it's tomato based but spiked with guanciale and usually some hot pepper. That's really it.

Garlic was probably always acceptable, but onions and herbs and anything else are seen as bastardizations in Rome, where the dish has been adopted as a local favorite (kind of strange because Amatrice is about 70 miles away). Top it off with salty aged pecorino and it's an easy to understand classic.

There's no reason why simple tomato sauces have to be bubbling gently for hours over a low flame. Sure, if you're braising braciole in it for Sunday sauce or something it needs time, but otherwise the tomatoes can break down and cook in as little as twenty minutes. This sauce is a perfect example of that. The guanciale adds a depth of flavor quickly with its porky intensity. It tends to be more intense than pancetta, coming from the cheek. But it's also difficult for me to get at stores, which is why I use American bacon. I want the porcine component to bring something more than pancetta can, so I like the smoky forwardness of the American style, in slab form. It's even more distinct than guanciale would be, but I think it works well.

Serves 4

Ingredients:

Pasta dough:

2 cups semolina flour

2 cups 00 or all purpose flour
1 cup water

Amatriciana Sauce:
3 32 oz. cans San Marzano Tomatoes
1/2 lb. smoked or unsmoked slab bacon, medium diced
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 chili pepper, finely diced or 1 teaspoon pepperoncino
Chunk of aged pecorino romano for grating
Salt and pepper to taste

To make the pasta dough mix the flours in a bowl, then add the water and stir to combine with a wooden spoon. When the water has been incorporated and the spoon isn't really do anything anymore use your fingers and knuckles to work the mass into a loose dough.

It should still be quite dry at this point and a decent amount of flour left on the bottom of the bowl. Turn it out onto a work surface and begin kneading, with short rests in between as needed.

Once you've achieved a nice smooth ball wrap it in plastic and let it rest uninterrupted for 30 minutes before making the desired shape.

Bring a pot of water to boil for the pasta. Salt it abundantly.

In a heavy bottom pan or frying pan heat the olive oil over medium low heat. Add the bacon and let it cook slowly so it renders much of its fat without browning too much. When the bottom of the pan is coated with the liquefied bacon fat and most of it is rendered, add the pepper or pepper flakes and let cook for a minute or two.

Add the tomatoes and partially crush them. Bring the sauce to low boil and let it cook, stirring occasionally for twenty minutes or so for the flavors to meld. Season to taste with salt and pepper and keep it on a minimal simmer. This can be made a day in advance to improve flavor.

Cook the pasta in the boiling water, basically until it floats, about 3-5 minutes. Drain, and either toss into the frying pan and stir to combine, or drain to a serving bowl and mix with some olive oil, then top with sauce when serving.

Garnish with pecorino romano and enjoy.