Sunday, October 25, 2015

A Delicious Sausage Pasta Born out of Confusion

When I invited my in-laws over for dinner, I knew that I would face the challenge of what to make in order to suit all palates.  I don't eat fish, my sister in law doesn't eat beef or anything spicy, my husband hates celery (really, just celery) and my brother in law doesn't express an opinion.  So I began an exhaustive back and forth text chain with my sister in law to determine what foods she and I would enjoy in common (clearly the women are the problem in this particular equation).

What I came up with on the common "yes" list was:
Italian sausage - Yes if not spicy
Cream Sauce - Yes
Nuts - Yes

OK genius, now what?

Here is the recipe that was born of this conundrum:

Fettucine with Sausage and Walnut Cream Sauce

1 Lb Fresh Fettucini (**cooked to the package instructions)
1 Lb Bulk Italian Sweet Sausage
2 Tbs Olive Oil (1 for sauteing sausage, 1 for sauce)
3 Tbs Butter (1 for sauce, 2 for finishing)
1 Medium Shallot (chopped finely)
1 Large Clove of Garlic (unpeeled and smashed)
1/3 cup of Dry White Wine (I used Orvieto Classico)
2 Tablespoons Frangelico Hazlenut Liquer
1 &1/2 Cups Heavy Cream
1/2 Cup Parmesan Cheese
1/2 Cup Finely Chopped Walnuts
Chopped Flat Leaf Parsley (to taste)

In a large saute pan, cook sausage in 1Tbs olive oil over med-high heat, breaking it with a spoon into small pieces as it cooks.  When browned nicely, remove with a slotted spoon to a plate with a few layers of paper towels to drain.

Pour off the sausage grease (leaving the yummy brown sausage bits behind in the pan, of course) and add remaining Tbs of olive oil and 1 Tbs butter. Reduce the heat to medium and  when the butter has melted, add the shallot to the pan.  Cook until the edges start to just brown then drop the smashed garlic clove into the pan.  Saute for a minute or until you can smell the garlic.

Add the white wine and Frangelico and turn the heat up to medium high, scraping any bits of sausage from the bottom of the pan as the wine and liquor reduce. When you have reduced to about a third of the original volume, remove the garlic clove and add the heavy cream.  Continue cooking until the cream starts to thicken a bit, then add the sausage to the pan and throw in about 75% of the walnut pieces, reserving the rest for garnish.  Cook about 2 minutes to heat the nuts and sausage through.
Taste, then *season with salt and pepper.

Add your **cooked pasta to the pan of sauce and toss to coat.  Throw in the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter, some chopped flat leaf parsley and a handful of Parmesan, again, reserving some of the parsley and cheese for garnish.

Taste for seasoning, adjust if necessary and garnish with remaining cheese, parsley and nuts.

*I season on the conservative side at this step as the pasta and its residual water and the Parmesan will add more salt to the dish when you incorporate it.

**I under cook the pasta by 1 minute as it will cook in the sauce.  I don't strain the pasta, but remove it from the water with tongs, allowing a little of the cooking water to come with it.

This is an original recipe and  is protected under copyright laws.  Please cook and enjoy, but don't publish as your own.

Monday, September 7, 2015

A Labor Day Look Back

Today is Labor Day and while the rest of America is grillin and chillin, I am looking back at my history of cooking and thinking about where I go from here. What wild craving will send me into the kitchen to find a way to scratch its itch?  Today it's peach pie.  So, while a peach pie bubbles away in the oven, I am thinking about the things that I have cooked in the last year and wondering why I did not enjoy them more at the time.

One of the things that I find to be less of a saying and more of a truism is that hindsight is 20/20. I know this to be true because in the moment, whenever I am baking or cooking, the defects and minor imperfections are magnified in such a way as to obscure my enjoyment of whatever it is that I am making.  Yet, when I look back at pictures of dishes past or I try to get a sense memory of what it was like to serve and eat a particular item, I almost always recall it with positivity and love.

Sure, there were some clear cut failures that ring out in my memory that no amount of time can glaze over.  Like the time I accidentally made some gorgeous chocolate muffins that had the salt and sugar ratios reversed.  They were picture perfect muffins with a gorgeous crown on them, their moist interior hinted at by the studding of chocolate chips that poked out of them..until you bit into them and they tasted like the Bonneville Salt Flats. My kids particularly enjoy recounting that failure.  Or the dozens of burnt cookies and un-risen cakes that I dumped into the garbage in my earliest attempts at baking.

For today, I will focus on the things that I made over the past year, but at the time, was too myopic to really enjoy.  In honor of Labor Day, her is a photo look back at some culinary labors of love:

Croque Monsieur
Silly Halloween Cupcakes
(not a decorating triumph, but a very delicious cupcake)

 Hand Rolled Cavatelli
(made at a cooking class in Rome)
 One of several Apple Crumb Pies
 Lasagna Bolognese
 Another Apple Crumb Pie
 A couple of Ribeyes getting cozy.
 Antipasto platter.
 An absolutely epic Chili Cheese Dog.
 Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies.
 Mille Crepe Cake
 Mac N Cheese Chili Casserole
 Panna Cotta with Berry Sauce

Monday, July 20, 2015

The Bandwagon Can Bite Me ( A love story and a recipe. Well, a recipe anyway.)

Photo Credit -

At some point, this tough, green lawn ornamentation became America's "it" food.  With me being naturally averse to things that look like landscaping of the plant kind or a lack of pre-bathing suit landscaping of the human kind, this curly cruciferous bundle of old lace and chlorophyll has never found it's way on to my plate. Until very recently, that is.

I have to be honest,  I have purposely avoided Kale at all costs because it's a bandwagon food.  Any food that gets too much hype or that my sister-in-law attributes the high quality of her "movements" to is an immediate NO for me.  I have managed to live a great many years without this "super food" and quite happily, I might add.  Then we went on vacation and I got sideswiped by my husband's order of a kale salad at dinner one night.

Me: Kale salad?  What the *#ck?
Him:  I wanna try it.
Me: It's the substance that Ariel says makes her crap like a show pony.
Him:  Exactly.
Me: You can finish this vacation alone. Waiter!  Another vodka and soda please.
Him:  I want to see what it's all about.
Me:  OK, but you have to sleep in the car tonight.

When our entree salads arrived, I looked down at my bowl of chopped Cobb Salad and realized, I am eating a similar bowl of rabbit food (this was after the chili cheese tater tots as an appetizer, of course).  What's the real difference, other than the fact that his is much greener and looks much more like it was shaved from someone's nether regions?  Let's put mind over matter and try it.

I tentatively stuck a fork into his salad and retrieved a dark green tumble of vegetation.  It looked angry, frizzy and menacing.  My expectation was that it would be as bitter as my 8th grade math teacher and about as enjoyable.  Mr Toscano be damned! It was actually somewhat more tolerable than hearing him prattle on about right angles. My assessment on the spot was that it was not as bitter as I expected and it was nicely dressed (that helped) but chewing through it was somewhere south of a burlap bag in terms of tenderness. It needed a lot of jaw work, but not totally terrible.

My husband, a friend to all vegetables except celery, loved it of course and proclaimed that he will be eating more kale salads going forward.  "Oh goody"  I thought, this gives me more quiet time and less access to the bathroom.  If he is going to eat this, I need to find a way to make it more palatable, so that I can hold my short-order, "everyone eats something different" cooking to a minimum.

So here's what I did to make the topiary tolerable:

Red Cabbage and Kale Slaw w/Sweet Red Onion Vinaigrette
1/2 medium head of red cabbage, shredded, washed and spun dry
1 medium Bunch of kale, stemmed and shredded, washed and spun dry
1/4 of a small red onion, sliced thinly

1/4 cup red wine vinegar
Juice of 1/2 a lemon
1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 of a small red onion roughly chopped
1 tbs sugar
1 tbs honey
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper

Pulse ingredients for dressing in a mini chop or food processor until emulsified.

Pour all vinaigrette over veggies and let sit in fridge for 1 hour to overnight.  Toss and redistribute dressing before serving.

In  closing, I fear that there is little to be concerned with in terms of theft of this recipe, because...kale.  However, it and all other poorly constructed and unpolished writing on this site are, of course, copyrighted.

At the end of the day, kale still has a taste and texture akin to zoysia grass but the dressing is quite tasty and you'll probably crap like a show pony. For some (like the guy that gave me a ring all those years ago and my sister-in-law), that's really all that matters.

Pictures of the festively shredded confetti of plant matter below.

Just so that you don't think I've gone all nuts and granola on ya, I served the kale salad with twice baked, french onion soup stuffed baked potatoes and a big, hairy steak. 

Sunday, June 14, 2015

Cupcakes to Soothe an Aching Soul

The past year has been just awful.  There's been sickness for some of my nearest and dearest, work is an unrelenting shit-pile of politics and hateful people and the hits keep coming.  This is not to say that I am not grateful for what I have and to have a job, but if you asked me what year I would love to play over, these past 12 months would not make the top 40.

Because of the drag on my emotions and the fact that last year was a really fun and fabulous birthday, when this year's birthday came around, it felt a bit, meh.  I had a wonderful time celebrating with my family, but I felt a longing for something homey and traditional.  On reflection, I realized that I was craving birthday cake.  I had some wonderfully delicious cakes in celebration of my birthday.  There was a Tira Misu, Chocolate Blackout and a spankingly fresh Strawberry Shortcake just mounded with whipped cream and berries.  Spectacular, each and every one.  However, there is something about a homemade vanilla cake with vanilla buttercream that is so comforting to me.  It's like a hug for the soul and I decided that I would make one as a birthday gift to myself.

I have two favorite vanilla cakes for this application - I love a good vanilla pound cake or a good old fashioned 1-2-3-4 cake.  I went with the latter.  This is an old time recipe that includes 1 cup milk, 2 cups sugar, 3 cups flour and 4 eggs, hence the name.  There are recipes all over the internet and they are all basically the same thing.  If you want to try one, go here or here or here.

Sitting back with a glass of wine and a cupcake in my belly, I feel better, maybe even optimistic.  Let's see what tomorrow brings.  I think I will pack a cupcake with me when I head off to work.  Things are not likely to be so great, but with that sweet nugget at the ready, I can put a band-aid on my scrapes and bruises and retreat to the gentle hug of a nostalgic bite of comfort.

The Birth of a Cupcake

Tins are lined. Flour is sifted. Patience is low.

Butter and sugar are beaten into submission.

 Eggs, flour and milk are added to make a very thick and luscious batter.

Sprinkles are tumbled in because I wanna.

 Sprinkles are now part of the "in crowd".

 Batter up!

Starting to get dressed.

 Now we all fancy.

 Aaaaahhhhh.  That's what I was waiting for.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Pop Goes the Gun

It was hard to believe that at my ripe old age and with my interest in food that I had not been to a pop-up dinner before.   New York is one of the cities where these things happen pretty regularly and if you keep your ear to the ground, it's easy enough to learn about them.   I suppose my listening skills are not what they should be, as I always seem to hear about these things after they happen, and my reaction is usually "Damn! Missed it.  That sounded cool.".

So finally, finally I got in on the ground floor of a pop-up dinner and as suspected, it was indeed pretty cool. I can't recall what Internet rabbit hole I fell down to find out that Gabrielle Corcos was having a pop-up dinner series in a charming section of Brooklyn called Windsor Terrace, but as soon as I did, I snagged a few tickets and set off for Kings County on a quest for a genuine Tuscan meal.

The location was a small cafe on a quiet street lined with row houses, just a few steps from Prospect Park.  The cafe was being sublet by Corcos for a three month series of dinners, with a fixed menu that changed by the month.  The cafe had a just enough room for about 10 small tables and a curved marble bar where a few folks that were willing to pay an additional 125 on top of the base 150 price, could sit and chat with Gabrielle while he worked in the open kitchen.  These seats also included having Gabrielle sit and share a drink and some food with them as well as a copy of the cookbook that he wrote with his wife, actress Debi Mazar, a tee shirt and some other swag. One couple came all the way from Kansas to sit at the bar and they seemed to have a great time gabbing away with him.

Part of the reason that this dinner series has been so popular (it has sold out every month), is Gabrielle himself.  Charming, down to earth and funny, he is possessed of the gift of gab and the ability to make his guests feel welcome.  Whether personally greeting them at the door, addressing the diners to introduce the next course or stopping by each table at the end of the night for pictures and a little conversation, he moves with the ease and grace of a skillful host.  His demeanor is imbued with the confidence that comes from feeding people the food that you love and knowing that you fed them well. And feed us well, he did.

November's menu was a delightful collection of Italian, mostly Tuscan dishes paired with an all Tuscan collection of wines along the route.  The starting course included two bruschetta and a young Pecorino Toscano dabbed with a dot of house made orange and sage marmalade.  We had dispatched with the cheese, which was bursting with the flavor of the Tuscan hillsides before Gabrielle had a chance to introduce the dish.  The two bruschetta, one made with fresh ricotta, so fresh it was still warm, came draped in a puddle of chestnut honey and generous sprinkle of hot pepper flakes, and the cannellini bean version with pancetta and rosemary, were also Tuscan flavor bombs.

The soup course was a rustic lentil soup, cooked with a rind of parmagiano cheese, just like my grandma used to make.  This course, like the cannellini bruschetta was also held aloft on the back of some good, porky pancetta flavor.

Pasta was up next and there were two (yes, two) of them.  First up, Spaghetti Alla Putanesca, which came with a side order of one of the many stories about how the dish got its name, was good and spicy and well studded with cracked black olives.  The second pasta which was my favorite, was Penne with Sausage, Rosemary, Saffron and Wine, and it had me wanting lick my dish clean in the most unladylike way. I resisted, but barely.  I will be making that one at home, for sure.

The main course was a nod to Thanksgiving in its use of Turkey and Pork inside meatballs braised with cabbage and tomatoes.  This dish reminded me of an inside out stuffed cabbage.   It was teamed up with mashed potatoes that had a truffle scented pecorino running through them and a side of sauteed kale.  Sorry, even with the Tuscan Gun to my head, I can't eat kale.  I gave it the old college try though.  A salad of fennel, arugula and orange came behind this as a light palate cleanser and it was fresh and crisp and did its job.

The meal ended with Gelo di Cafe, which was a coffee and chocolate custard served in a charming 1/2 pint Ball jar and capped with a swirl of orange scented whipped cream.   After the many courses, it was just enough to put a sweet finish on things.  And, as is tradition in Italy, an after dinner liquor was offered.  There was a choice between Cynar, an artichoke liquor or Gabrielle's own homemade Limoncello.  I chose the Limoncello as I had made my own from Gabrielle's recipe before and knew that it would be strong and delicious.  It did not disappoint.

Gabrielle worked with a small but highly efficient team who helped to cook, serve, clear and chat up the crowd.  Their friendliness and professionalism helped to keep things moving at an even and comfortable pace throughout the night.  As we spilled out into the streets of Brooklyn after the dinner, we felt warm and comforted and well fed.  I don't know if all pop-up dinners are as intimate and delicious as this one was, but if they are, sign me up for the next one!

Below are some of the pictures that we took of the food and the chef.  It was a night to remember; delicious and loaded with fun.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Home Sweet Rome

Two weeks.  We are two weeks back from Rome and I am still in a blissed out state of relaxation from the memory of all of the amazing meals, cocktails and good times we had.

Rome for me is a centering place, a place that puts my internal compass in balance.  Maybe this is simply because when I am there, I am on vacation and the stresses and worries of work, home and life are dulled for the moment.  Or, maybe there is more to it, something deeper, like a spiritual, almost karmic connection.

Not one to pay attention to things spiritual or signs, I felt an unusual ease and comfort on my very first trip to Rome. With not a word of Italian in my vocabulary and nothing to guide me but a few streetviews on Google Maps, I stepped into the cobblestone lined streets of Rome as confidently as I did the street I live on at home. I had no fear and that alone was telling to me.

That first trip, which included a stay in a Tuscan villa, was a watershed moment for me.  I feel like I have spent the ensuing years since in an endless quest for the next trip to Italy.  In the years since that first visit, we have been to Florence, Sorrento, Naples and Capri, all of which were soul soothing and wonderful in their own right. But every trip has also included Rome.  It had to or I would feel the emptiness of an opportunity missed.  To be teased with the closeness of Rome and skip a visit would cause a longing that I would feel physically, an actual pain.  I know this because I felt it at the very suggestion that we maybe skip Rome this time.

This most recent trip was special because it was about the sweet pursuit of nothing but to bask in the essence of the city itself.  To sit in a piazza for hours doing nothing but drinking wine and people watching.  To be Roman, if only for a moment and to dream of a future where sitting in a piazza could be our primary job in life.  A job that I feel I was born to do.

Cornetto and Cappuccino - aka Breakfast.
 Veggies at Campo de Fiori - always beautiful enough to make me want to eat vegetables (no small feat).

 A closer look at Chariots in the Sky.

A closer look at the Colosseum.

Ingredients for a cooking class. Ingredients like this kind of stack the deck in your favor for success.

The city is full of dogs, which is awesome.

This was the meat sweats waiting to happen but worth every bead on my brow.

 Drinking by the Pantheon by day...

... and night

A beautiful day in Piazza del Popolo.

 Porchetta sandwich and beer from The Angry Pig (consumed at 11 am, so technically the breakfast of champions).

The Tiber by night...

...and day.

And just to spice things up, a day trip to Orvieto.