le sauce

meat-free "amatriciana"

I don't always set out to vegetarian-ize everything I used to eat. Quite frankly, it takes a lot of effort to create a respectable, comparable meat-free version of most things, and, quite frankly, most of those original versions are not so hot anyway. I mean that the number of dishes I truly miss from my meat-eating days, that were really about meaty texture, flavour or both, is relatively small. Amatriciana, a classic Italian red tomato sauced pasta that starts with guanciale (cured pig jowl), is all about the salty, richness that comes from that pork. And it's damn good. Good enough that I wanted to make something similar that I could enjoy. 

To be successful I had to replace the saltiness and richness I'd be losing when I omitted the guanciale, and I settled on cured olives and butter, and relied on onions for sweetness and smoked paprika for, well, smokiness that reminds many of cured meat, even though guanciale is not smoked. I added a second, non-smoked paprika, the darkest I had on hand, strictly to saturate the sauce with red. It was important to me to recreate that almost surreal, blood-red sauce. It totally worked and you'll end up with something that threatens to stain anything it touches and I thought it was stunning, even though it gets briefly masked with an avalanche of Parmesan dust. It's also nice to strike the dish with a flash of chili oil right before serving, making it, perhaps, the boldest meat-free pasta you've made, and hopefully, a damn good spin on Amatriciana.  

Amatriciana

2 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
2 tbs unsalted butter
1 med red onion, finely chopped
1-2 large dried red chilies, broken up, to taste
1 large garlic clove, finely chopped
1 tsp smoked paprika powder
1/2 tsp dark paprika powder
3/4 tsp kosher salt, divided
3/4 c pitted, chopped Nicoise olives
1/2 c sun-dried tomatoes in oil, chopped
1 tbs tomato paste
2 c canned whole plum tomatoes and liquid (San Marzano preferred)
1 c or more finely grated Parmesan cheese

Add oil and butter to heated pan. When the butter has melted, add onion and chili, stir to separate the onion pieces and cook over medium-high heat, stirring frequently until softened, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, both paprika powders, and 1/2 tsp of salt, and cook for a minute until the garlic has softened. Add olives, sun-dried tomatoes and cook for another minute. Add the tomatoes and their liquid and the remaining 1/4 tsp of salt and bring to a simmer for 5 minutes.

Remove the pan from the heat and purée the sauce using an immersion blender or a food processor until fairly smooth. Return the pot of sauce to a medium-low heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Add half-cooked pasta to the sauce and finish cooking the noodles in the sauce. Serve the pasta and top with lots of the grated Parmesan. Serve with chili oil if desired.

Makes 4 servings.

first taste: pasta a la strega nona

Childhood picture books, stories and TV shows that depicted food and dining made a real impression on me. Illustrations of steaming bowls of pasta or a piece of toast smothered in purple jam gave me my first taste of foods I'd yet to try, and are sometimes still the archetypes I hold food up to today. Instead of simply reminisce, I'm going to bring those dishes to life the way I imagined they'd be.

Strega Nona is the story of a witch, technically, a friendly witch who uses magic to help the villagers around her. But I cold barely tell you anything about the actual story line. To me, it's about a Nona in old-school Italy who makes pasta in a magic black cauldron. The pasta is, naturally, delicious, steaming hot and always plentiful--spilling from the bowl and there's more in the cauldron. In true Italian style, the sauce is not the point, really. In the illustrations, you see only swirls of noodles and that's enough to tempt you. 

*Strega Nona story and lovely illustrations by Tomie dePaola

The image above is exactly as I remembered it. I took this book out of the library to reference for this post and I swear I hadn't seen it in decades. Without a magic cauldron and a village to feed, I didn't attempt to make enough pasta to fill the largest bowl in my home. But I did get the longest pasta noodles I could find and I kept the sauce simple. For barely there (looking) sauce, it had to be cacio e pepe. Smooth, silky cheese and pepper pasta, that looks as much like the noodles in Strega Nona's pot as I could conjure up. 

This recipe comes courtesy of dashing Mark Ladner who shared it with Bon Appetit. You can read the recipe or better yet, you can watch his charming self in this video and pretend he's making it for you. You know, if you want.

a random bit of spinach ricotta gnudi

There is such a thing as too much ricotta. For instance, you could buy a large amount for a dinner party that needs to be postponed or, in my case, a recipe test that gets put off. When you find yourself in either situation, you could always do as I did: thaw a package of frozen spinach and squeeze as much liquid out as possible. Mix it, the ricotta, two egg yolks, some seasoning (salt, pepper and a little nutmeg is traditional) and a little flour together. Take a tablespoon of your mixture and using floured hands, roll them into little, logs (imperfect ones are just fine), drop them into a small bowl of flour to keep them from sticking and place them on a baking sheet as you go.

Drop the finished batch into boiling, salted water and rescue them with a slotted spoon when they float to the top. You can transfer them into a waiting butter and sage sauce, but I prefer sauce of fried shallots swimming in olive oil spiked with lots of lemon. Your call.

hundred pea pasta

Hundred pea pasta! So called because when I looked down at my first bowl I thought, woah, there are like a million peas in this pasta! Even after checking my tendency to exaggerate I reasoned that, surely, there are at least one hundred peas in this pot.

And while this is the perfect time of year to bathe your pasta in an exorbitant amount of very fresh peas, when fresh green pods should be everywhere you turn, maybe you still can't get your hands on them. Perhaps you're eager to get to the weekend market but, you know, you also like sleep. Perhaps that makes you a little lazier than everyone else in your Twitter stream seems to be. So you get to the market at--gasp!--10.30, and all of the peas are gone. You look around at what's left and scroll quickly over a tweet from an hour ago that smugly announces that last batch being sold, and hurry if you want fiddle--oh!--those are gone too! Don't be ashamed. We You don't need this judgement nor the pity, for that matter. You can push those sunglasses up the bridge of your nose and buy more cheese than you need right now and maybe some lettuce with a surprising amount of spiders dozing deep in leaves--a sure sign of its freshness. For all anyone knows, that is your 3rd cup of fair trade coffee today, not your wake-up one, and you can use frozen peas for this pasta when you get home and it will be simply perfect anyway. Ok??

Good. Now on to why I want you to go to the trouble of boiling and mashing garlic for this simple pasta. You see, the idea started out as a pea pesto, but the idea of raw garlic matched with timid peas seemed like an unfair fight. I knew I needed to cook the garlic to mellow it out, and I wanted to puree it so that I could really get a taste in every bite, along with those peas, so a puree seemed like a good way to go. Par-cooking the garlic in boiling water first ensures that it's cooked inside and out before it's swimming in the oil it's flavouring. You can mash away knowing it's cooked before the outside turns gold and it can continue to cook after it becomes one with those peas. Boiling the peas for a minute tempers the texture of the fresh ones you'll have one day, some day, and softens frozen ones so they're ready to be cooked. The rest is a matter of preference. I used pecorino cheese for its bite, saltiness and for this hint of citrus I get, though I may be alone in that last description. Feel free to use parmesan if that's what you have on hand. I've used mint and chives for this pasta in the past, and imagine tarragon would be perfect too. But I'm not telling you what to do. It's your pea pasta, damnit, fresh or otherwise.

spinach, egg yolk ravioli, mushroom brown butter sauce with leek cream

It's hard to say that any one part of the meal was a stand-out, when the menu for a very special dinner we hosted recently included fresh popovers and a red velvet cake. But this was the one that the guests complimented the most--and it was definitely my favourite. One plate-sized ravioli, filled with a perfectly-cooked, soft, organic egg yolk on a bed of scallion, sautéed spinach. The mushrooms were fried in butter then tossed in more browned butter, and the lemon-spiked leek cream on the side was just tart enough to balance the richness. There is some effort involved, but I bet you will think it was worth it once the egg yolk spills out of the fresh pasta and mixes into the butter and cream. 

(above images photographed by james piper)

And the most time-consuming step of the version you see in these pictures? You can skip that...

perfect for tonight: brussel sprout linguine

A few years ago, I didn't think I'd be voluntarily making a meal out of brussel sprouts. Now I know that a little bit of oil and a little bit of heat brings out their nuttiness, some sesame oil plays nicely off that, some time in the oven or a long while in a skillet can make them crispy and brown. If you slice the base off, take the time to slice them in half lengthwise and shred them or better yet, peel the layers off and sautée them and some shallots or leeks in browned butter, mix them with some pasta and dried red chilies, you have a dinner that's perfect for tonight.

rapini orecchiette carbonara

 

i went to an epic italian dinner once, and a very simple orecchiette di rapini was one of the most popular courses of the evening. i created this recipe because i remember that plate so fondly; pasta and vegetables softer than you would expect, but completely intentional in this dish, where the rapini is bitter and the sauce is rich and creamy. the texture is comforting and gentle in contrast.

one thing that i loved about that pasta was that the rapini was cut up so small and cooked till tender, that it basically blended into the sauce. i did the same thing here, and i took the carbonara "route" to creaminess: egg yolks mixed with parmesan and added off the heat but while the pasta is still hot (adding the eggs to the pan or over the heat would cause them to scramble). this residual heat really should cook the eggs, but if you are timid about undercooked eggs, i trust you will do what's right for you. as with a raw egg recipe,  you want the freshest and best eggs for this. and you want to work quickly...

add the eggs to a steaming bowl of pasta and toss well. make sure your dinner partners are ready and waiting at the table, because they should know that pasta, especially this kind, waits for no one! you get their share if they are off checking email. or...if they just didn't hear you calling them. but you really did... ahem.

rapini orecchiette carbonara

1 bunch rapini, sliced thinly, leaves separated (about 8 cups total)

2 tbs extra virgin olive oil

1 dried red chili, crushed

1 small onion, finely chopped (about 1 cup)

1 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

400g dried orecchiette pasta

2 egg yolks

1/2 cup grated parmesan, plus more for serving

bring a large pot of water to a boil. and add the rapini stems and flowers. after 4 minutes, add the leaves to the water for 2 more minutes. the rapini stems should be tender.

meanwhile, heat the oil in a large pan over medium-high heat. add the onions and stir occasionally, until they start to brown. add the chili and cook, stirring, for a few more minutes until the onions have caramelized. using a slotted spoon, transfer the blanched rapini to the pan, shaking off any excess water. add the salt and pepper, and mix well. lower the heat and stir occasionally while the pasta cooks.

salt the same pot of boiling water well, add pasta and cook for 7 minutes or until done. 

combine the egg yolks and cheese using a fork.

remove rapini from heat. if your pan is large enough, add drained pasta to it, or transfer both to a large bowl. add the egg mixture and toss quickly to make sure the pasta and rapini are coated well. serve immediately.

serves 4.

feeding time

my family and i went to the zoo this past weekend. all 26 of us, including 10 kids between the ages of 1 and 11. and surprisingly, it wasn't that crazy, even though we threw a picnic into the mix, opting to bring a pot-luck lunch instead of buying overpriced, unhealthy food. i signed us up for guacamole and a "hearty salad". i didn't have a salad in mind when i said that, but i wanted to come up with something that the kids would really like.

i kicked around the idea of different pasta salads, and i originally wanted to do a layered salad in individual glass jars, figuring that a unique serving presentation would add to the appeal. but i wasn't sure how to make it "zoo" or "safari"-themed. i kicked around a bunch of complicated ideas until james finally interjected with "green pesto. animal-shaped pasta". riiiiight! that would even make accommodating the gluten and cow dairy intolerant easy: goat milk gouda to replace the parmesan, i'd seen animal-shaped rice pasta at the market, and regular rice pasta would do for the adults' batch. i even threw in blanched kale and broccoli with the bright green basil. delicious, if we did say so ourselves.

the one idea i had in my head from the beginning was that i wanted to personalize the jars for the kids, keeping with the theme if possible. too bad i left this detail till, oh, about 5 minutes after we were supposed to leave. 

good thing we were concocting these salads at my parents' place. it was mom to the rescue with twine and i asked if i could steal some sage leaves from her garden. 

we all liked the final result, but what really mattered was what the judges would think.

and...

the kids' faces actually lit up! they loved their very own jars of salad and they sat down with them and started eating on their own, even the little ones! we might as well have been handing out personalized lootbags. i kinda wished i had one of my own too. not just because of the whole jar thing. animal pasta is just way more fun than regular pasta.   

p.s. this is the 250th post on this blog, and a fitting time to thank you for reading over the past two years! i'm hoping to make some improvements and additions over the next two months, so please stay tuned!

fried almond and olive pasta with fresh cilantro and parsley

 

i never worry about what to "do" with leftover herbs, especially cilantro. the flavour you get when you bite into a fresh leaf on its own can be pretty powerful, but you'd be surprised at how delicate it tastes chopped and dispersed among other ingredients, like in a salsa, yogurt raita, or added to simple pasta at the last minute. i find myself eating at least a cup of cilantro sprinkled over hot noodles in oil almost every time i buy a bunch.   

 

i find parsley to be the same way; a single leaf on its own is strong, but big handfuls chopped and added to a salad is welcome. putting both leaves together into a pasta makes for a really quick but interesting meal. i always add olives when i have them around, but i started adding sliced almonds when i went from making this meal to use up herbs, to craving this pasta and wanting to round out the dish to make it an even more special meal. you can certainly make it without nuts, just as you can make it without a chili. adding both is my new favourite way to enjoy this. and not that you'll need instruction, simply because i want to reminisce:

the perfect, big bite: twirl the noodles in the herb and shallot flavoured oil, scoop up the greens, crisp almonds and spear a juicy piece of olive. i try not to eat the whole bowl in under five minutes, but i know i'm still coming in at under ten.

 

 

everything goes into the pan together--that has origins in my laziness, but it works well. by the time the stalks and shallot cook to a pleasant softness, the almonds are perfectly toasted, the olives are fried and have contributed their flavour to the happy family too. if you prepare everything including the boiling pasta water before you start, you'll be done in 7 minutes, just in time to put your cooked pasta into the pan, stir and serve. i'm not going to call this a quick, weeknight dinner, because i think of it more as the perfect anytime meal. think hangovers sitting on the couch on saturday morning, when you don't want eggs, but also want to eat something worthy of the weekend, to kick it off right.

fried almond and olive pasta with fresh cilantro and parsley

1/4 c sliced almonds
handful sun-dried or oil-cured black olives, pitted and coarsely chopped
1 dried red chili (optional), stemmed and finely chipped
1/4 c red onion or shallot chopped
1/4 c finely chopped cilantro and parsley stems
1c cilantro & parsley leaves chopped
2 tbs extra virgin olive oil
1/4 tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper

once ingredients are prepped, add your pasta to salted boiling water; i prefer linguine for this dish.

place a large skillet over medium-high heat. immediately add the oil, and then the almonds, olives, stems, red onion, and the chili, if using. stir well, and add the salt and pepper. sautée stirring frequently for about 5 minutes, or till the almonds just start to turn golden. 

remove skillet from heat and allow to cool for a minute. add the chopped leaves, a drizzle more of oil and stir well. at this point, your pasta should be cooked. add the strained pasta to the skillet and more oil if needed. toss well and serve.

serves 2.

artichoke and leek pasta

 

to be honest, i made this recipe because i love showcasing the beauty of sliced baby artichokes even more than because of their flavour. same reason i was moved to make a clear soup with sliced baby artichokes last spring. 

 

don't get me wrong. the texture and taste of artichokes is deliciously unique and satisfying in this pasta, particularly combined with the light flavour of spring leeks and punchy yellow banana peppers (which, by the way, you can omit if you or someone you're serving isn't a fan of spicy food). i'm just saying i'm a little in love with how 

gorgeous young artichokes are in every state. 

don't they just look like art? 

 

if you've never prepared fresh baby artichokes before, do not be intimidated. the prep work goes quickly and having them hang out in a lemon bath so they don't turn brown from oxidizing is not a big deal. and should yours discolour, don't sweat it. they will taste just the same, and you'll be eating the finished product too fast to notice anyway.

artichoke and leek pasta

6 baby artichokes
2 small or 1 large leek, white and light green part only, trimmed, sliced into rings and washed
1 hot yellow banana pepper, trimmed, deseeded, deveined and sliced into thin strips on bias (optional)
1/2 c finely grated parmesan cheese
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
1 tbs unsalted butter
1 tbs extra virgin olive oil
1 lemon, peel washed
400 g of any uncooked short pasta you like

set a large pot of water to heat on the stove for the pasta.

squeeze the juice of the lemon into a medium bowl, fill with water and add the used lemon halves to the water as well.

tear off the outer layers of an artichoke until the long, pale, inner layers are exposed. trim the stems to just below the base, and trim off any hard, dark green around the base. cut off the tips, about 1/2 inch from the top. plunge the trimmed artichoke into the lemon water and let it soak. repeat with the remaining artichokes, covering each in the lemon water and leaving them there while you continue with the rest. discard outer leaves and trimmings. then, shaking off excess water from the artichokes and quarter them lengthwise on your cutting board. do not return the artichokes to the water.

check to see that your pasta water is starting to simmer. if it is at a full boil, reduce the heat slightly to bring it down to a simmer before proceeding.

heat the butter and oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. add the artichokes, leeks and banana pepper (if using), and sauté for one minute. add salt and pepper, and cook for another minute, stirring, until the leeks and pepper soften. do not allow them to brown. 

using a pyrex measuring cup, very carefully scoop out half a cup of hot water from your pot, and pour it into your skillet. let the vegetables cook in the water, stirring occasionally, for about five minutes until the vegetables are cooked through and the liquid has reduced.  

meanwhile, bring your pasta water up to a boil again, salt the water well and add the pasta. cook for seven minutes or until al dente. (note: if the vegetables are done before the pasta, remove the skillet from heat and set aside until the pasta is cooked. return to heat before adding the pasta to the skillet.)

drain pasta and add it to the skillet. add half of the parmesan and stir through until the pasta and vegetables are well combined. remove from heat and transfer into serving bowls. top each bowl with remaining cheese and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and serve hot.

serves 4.