Showing posts with label Italian food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Italian food. Show all posts

Thursday, May 19, 2011

First Pesto

Up to now I've strived not to repeat myself here on You Gonna Finish That? (at least not flagrantly), but I'm just so excited about my first pesto of the season, that I had to share it with you in photos.
 
Toast pignoli (pine nuts) in a dry skillet until lightly browned. Remove from heat and allow to cool.
Peal some garlic cloves - how many depends on if you're a real foodie or not - grate lots of fresh Parmigiano-Reggiano, and thoroughly wash fresh basil leaves and either pat dry with paper towels or give a dizzying turn in the old salad spinner.
 
Combine all ingredients plus a modest shake of salt in a food processor and pulse to a fine chop. Next, slowly drizzle good extra virgin olive oil through the feed tube of your running machine to make a sauce. Add enough oil to make a thick, runny paste. Not too dry, not too wet.
Next bring a pot of slightly salted water to a boil and cook pasta according to the instructions on the package. I found fresh orecchiette (little ears) at my favorite Italian market, they take about half the cooking time of dried pasta. Drain the pasta and return to the pot. Off the heat, stir in enough pesto just to coat the pasta. Serve right away with more grated cheese and a cheeky Italian red.
 
Pesto is easy to make, gentle readers. I really must encourage you to start making and freezing your own. There's an indescribably superior flavor over that which comes from a jar. It's gotta be 'cause it's fresh. The bite and heat of the garlic, the saltiness of the cheese, the sweetness and texture of the pignoli, and finally, the bright herbal kick from the basil. They all add up to something special. And I really do think family and friends appreciate the home-made touch. It tastes better, and shows you care.
 
True story: I bought a big bunch of fresh basil last Saturday as a garnish for my Ragù alla Bolognese thinking I would use the bulk of it for pesto later in the week. Imagine my disgust at discovering there wasn't a pine nut to be found in the house, usually a staple around here. I couldn't account for the lapse, but slammed cupboard doors over and over looking for something that just wasn't to be found. I think I cursed God that night.
 
 
Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food
 
 

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

So Much More Than Baloney

Depiction of a 14th C. fight (1369?) between the militias of the Guelf and Ghibelline factions in the Italian commune of Bologna, from the Croniche of Giovanni Sercambi of Lucca
 
Bologna-Stemma coat of armsBologna Football Club logo
 
So, I was out in San Francisco over the long Easter break and got to dine at one of the City's more popular eateries. People say it's impossible to get a reservation, but nobody told me that before I called a few days before my arrival in town. I got a table for four at 10:30 that magically turned into a 6:30 seating within just a few hours of my booking. nopa thoroughly embraces the "local food" ethos. Everything is seasonally fresh, so the menu is continuously changing. It's is in its fifth year and its popularity has yet to wane. I soon found out why.
 
Good blogger that I am, I had neither camera nor notebook with me that night, so recalling what we ate is proving problematic. I do remember a fire-grilled calamari appetizer that couldn't have been more perfect. Not under-cooked, not rubbery, the chef must have stood over the grill with a stopwatch, that's how tender it was.
 
There was an amazingly moist rotisserie chicken; a sweet, succulent grilled pork chop with the faintest blush of color - more like steak than pork - and at a Ten Hour Bolognese pasta on the menu that ricocheted round and round my brain pan. I just had to try it. I haven't tasted anything that flavorful, complex and satisfying in a long time.
 
 
Ragù alla Bolognese - adapted from the Italian Academy of Cuisine*
  • ¼ lb pancetta, cubed
  • 2 carrots, peeled and minced
  • 2 stalks celery, minced
  • 1 yellow onion, minced
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 lb ground beef
  • 1 lb ground veal
  • 6 oz tomato paste
  • ½ bottle dry red wine
  • 1 cup whole milk
  • Salt & pepper taste
Render the pancetta in a large Dutch oven over medium heat. (I cheat by starting things off with a couple of fat dollops of reserved bacon fat to get everything going in the pot.) Add the soffritto (mirepoix if you prefer) and sauté over low heat until thoroughly soft (20-25 minutes or more). Stir as necessary. Add the ground meat and allow to gently come up to a simmering point, stirring constantly until it sputters.
 
Stir in the tomato paste and cook through, until the mixture begins to take on a little color.
 
Add the wine and leave to simmer for at least 2 hours (I had time to kill, so went for four). You can add a bit of beef stock once the sauce is reduced by half, and continue reducing and adding stock for the duration.
 
While stirring, drizzle the milk into the sauce to incorporate, and season with salt and pepper. For added richness, a recommended option is to add a "a panna di cottura di un litro di latte intero". This is whole milk reduced in a saucepan to at least half its volume. I served my ragù over fat pappardelle egg noodles, but any long pasta will do. The secret is in the sauce after all. Oh, and don't forget the fresh Parmigiano-Reggiano. No cheese in a green container is ever gonna bring honor to your efforts in the kitchen with a sauce like this.
 
Well, I ended up with one killer Bolognese. Maybe not the 10-hour indulgence that comes out of nopa's kitchen, but damn it was good. Totally rich and fulfilling. I confess, yet again, to licking my plate clean afterwards. (I had the sauce over spaghetti the next night, and dipped toasted French bread into warmed-up leftovers a third.)
 
You can do this sauce in as little as two hours, but even still it's a time consuming affair. I do this because of a wicked stubborn streak running down my spine. If you decide to give it a whirl, do it for the love!
 
 
Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food
 
 
*The classic Italian Bolognese includes neither garlic nor herbs.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Pasta Fagioli

"Oh Jerry, don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars!"

Pasta e fagioli - adapted from La Cucina Italiana
  • 1 16-oz can cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
  • 2 clove garlic, finely chopped
  • 8 oz pancetta, cut into ½" cubes
  • 8 oz sweet Italian sausage, casing removed
  • 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
  • 1 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for drizzling
  • 6 cups vegetable or chicken stock
  • 1 lb ruote (cartwheel) pasta
  • Fine sea salt
  • Grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
  • Red pepper flake
In a large heavy stockpot, combine pancetta and sausage and a little oil over medium-high heat. Stir frequently, breaking up the sausage into bits with a wooden spoon until fat is rendered and sausage is just cooked through, about 7 minutes. Add onion and more oil, reduce heat to medium and cook, stirring frequently, until onion is softened, another 5 minutes or so. Add chopped garlic and cook 2 minutes more.
 
Add beans, stock and 2 cups water; bring to a gentle simmer and cook covered for 25 minutes. Increase heat to bring soup to a low boil, add pasta and cook until pasta is barely al dente (pasta will continue to cook in soup; so do not overcook). Season with salt and pepper to taste. Ladle soup into serving bowls, sprinkle with grated cheese and red pepper and drizzle with olive oil.
 
So when your day sucks ass and the weather outside is more like winter than spring, don't get mad, get cooking.
 
 
Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food
 
 

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Variations on a Theme

The Lone Ranger and I accepted an invitation to Miami from my old friends GBF & the Sweet Baboo for Thanksgiving. We were assured of balmy weather, golfies, trips to South Beach, and afternoon dips in their inviting swimming pool. Who could refuse, right? Our trip, however, coincided with Homeland Security's crackdown on underwear bombers, and flip flop highjackers. I know this is gonna put people off, but the whole airport safety program is an exercise in futility. It's the mere pretense of protection, going nowhere near far enough in actually stopping acts of terrorism; it only manages to irritate the traveling public, causing them to muse about becoming terrorists themselves. The real aim is to cover the ass of every ineffectual politician in Washington, allowing them to appear to take "the war on terrorism" seriously. Well, we managed to trigger some subconscious alarm in an overeager behaviorist working for jetBlue, who tipped off the TSA agents that we were prime candidates for thorough pat downs and carry-on luggage inspections. The Lone Ranger blamed me, for refusing to acknowledge this imbecile's vacuous greetings as we approached the X-ray machines (I hate talking to strangers, especially cheerful ones). I, in self defense, blamed the unchecked toxins whooshing around his, the behaviorist's, moronic brain. Whatever the actual reason, we endured 30 minutes of probing and prodding before being cleared for take-off. Afterwards, I was in desperate need of alcohol and nicotine, but was deprived of both thanks to LaGuardia's lamentably inadequate forethought and design. Instead, I consoled myself with spontaneous consumption of culinary eye candy at the diminutive yet formidable news stand. That, and my trusty iPod, were the only things saving me from a manslaughter charge.
 
Risotto ai funghi e nocciole - adapted from La Cucina Italiana
  • ½ cup hazelnuts
  • 4 oz dried porcini mushrooms
  • 3 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
  • ¼ cup finely chopped flat-leaf parsley
    plus more for serving
  • 2 small shallots
  • 1 fresh bay leaf
  • 2½ cups Vialone Nano rice
  • ½ cup dry white wine
  • 4-5 cups vegetable broth
  • 2 Tbsp hazelnut oil
  • 2 Tbsp freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
Heat oven to 350°F with rack in middle. Spread nuts on a baking sheet. Bake until fragrant and lightly golden, 10-12 minutes; transfer to wire rack and cool completely. Roughly chop in a food processor.
 
Reconstitute mushrooms by soaking in very hot water for 15 minutes, or until tender. Strain through a sieve, reserving liquid. Chop roughly and toss with parsley and a generous pinch of salt & pepper; set aside.
 
In a heavy, large saucepan, heat olive oil over medium heat. Add shallots, half of the nuts and bay leaf. Cook, stirring occasionally for 3 minutes, then add rice and cook, stirring constantly, until rice is lightly toasted, about 5 minutes more; reduce heat to medium-low.
 
Add wine and cook until it is mostly absorbed, then add 1 cup reserved mushroom liquid and cook, stirring, until liquid is mostly absorbed, 5-7 minutes. Add ½ cup more of liquid and cook, stirring, until mostly absorbed. In ½ cupfuls, add remaining mushroom liquid, stirring until each addition is mostly absorbed before adding the next, until rice is tender yet still slightly firm to the bite (you'll move over to the vegetable broth once all the reserved mushroom liquid is used. You may have broth left over.).
Stir in half of the reserved mushrooms, then add 1 tablespoon hazelnut oil and the cheese; stir to combine. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
In a small bowl, toss together remaining mushrooms and hazelnuts. Drizzle with remaining tablespoon hazelnut oil and sprinkle with a pinch of salt. Serve risotto on a large platter topped with extra mushroom & nut mixture.
 
 
This blog post is labeled "comfort food" for good reason. My risotto consoled. Nutty, earthy, salty and savory, each forkful was a respite. The preparation alone was enough to wash away the bad taste of that last airport experience. Save for an obligatory visit to family on the west coast later this month, I swear on all that is held holy, with the end of 2010 I may never fly another mile. But I WILL make this dish again and again.
 
 
Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food
 
 

Tuesday, November 30, 2010

You Are Now Free to Move About the Cabin

I have one weakness when I travel, and that's airport newsstands... oh, and seven-dollar beers. Okay, that's two foibles, but I'm gonna write about the former here. I simply can't help it; I'm a sucker for all that shiny paper and artificially lit subject matter, and price is no object. Give me a pretty picture and I'll shell out criminal amounts of cash. But you'll never find me perusing the entertainment section of Hudson News. People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive? Who gives a damn. Naked pictures of Brett Favre? Puh-lease! And who the hell is Kim Kardashian anyway? No, predictably, I'll waltz boldly over to the perfectly legal food porn aisle. Saveur, Bon Appétit, La Cucina Italiana, Southern Living, Coastal Living, and Sunset Magazine. But the most insidious of them all? Gourmet Magazine. Their stylists and photographers ought to be recognized by the Museum of Modern Art, or the Louvre or something. On my way back from the Bay Area last month, the latest volume reclined in a rack with a "come ye hither" stare. As if using Photoshop® weren't cunning enough, the words Special Edition cried out to me from the masthead like some maddening siren's song. My pulse quickened, my breathing grew raspy and shallow, my eyes rolled, glazed, into the back of my head. Once again, and adroitly so, Condé Nast had played unpitying dominatrix to my willing submissive.
 
But the really nice thing about food magazines? They're actually useful. They're chocked full of recipes and ideas that you can take and apply in your own kitchen. Try that the next time you pick up an Us Weekly.
 
 
Roasted-Tomato Tart - from Gourmet Quick Kitchen, Nov 2010
  • 1 frozen puff pastry sheet
  • 2 lb plum tomatoes, halved
  • 2 Tbsp plus 2 tsp extra-virgin olive oil
  • 3½ tsp finely chopped fresh thyme
  • ½ cup Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese shavings
    plus additional for garnish
Put oven racks in middle and lower third of oven and preheat oven to 425°F. Line a large rimmed backing sheet with foil.
While oven is heating, roll out pastry sheet on a lightly floured surface with a lightly floured rolling pin into an 11 x 9 inch rectangle. Transfer dough to an ungreased baking sheet. Chill until ready to use.
In a bowl, toss tomatoes with 2 tablespoons oil, 2 teaspoons thyme, ¼ teaspoon each of salt & pepper until well coated. Roast tomatoes, cut sides up and in one layer, in foil-lined baking pan in middle of oven for one hour.
Brush pastry with 2 teaspoons oil, then sprinkle with 1 teaspoon thyme. After roasting tomatoes for 1 hour, move tomatoes in pan to lower third of oven and put pastry on baking sheet on middle rack.
Bake pastry and tomatoes until pastry is golden brown and puffed, and edges of tomatoes are browned but still appear juicy, about 15 minutes.
 
While pastry is still warm, scatter ½ cup cheese shavings evenly over it. Top shavings with warm tomatoes, cut sides down in an even layer (pastry layers will collapse under tomatoes), then sprinkle evenly with remaining ½ teaspoon thyme, ¼ teaspoon salt, pepper to taste, and additional cheese.
Tomatoes (without pastry) can be roasted 1 week ahead and chilled in an airtight container. Reheat in 350°F oven until heated through before using.
 
Gourmet says, "Sometimes the easiest way to cook something also happens to be the best." I couldn't agree more, and that was certainly the case with this tart. My sweet Lone Ranger championed that doctrine by whipping up a salad out of practically nothing and amazed me for about the one hundred and eleventieth time since our relationship began. I'll never doubt him at the produce market again!
 
Try this tart. You will be amazed by how five simple ingredients can produce such delicious results.
 
 
Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food