Ragu from Bologna

In the Flesh



Yesterday some friends were passing through Knoxville on their way to Memphis from Winston-Salem, North Carolina so of course I invited them to have supper here and stay the night. Actually, I didn't know him but I've known her for about five years — we'd just never met I the flesh before.

This is old-hat for me. I'd guess that over the past 15 or so years I've met over 50 people that I first got to know on-line. But Angela was nervous about it and her husband, Frank, was downright skeptical about the whole idea of making friends on-line — much less planning on staying the night with a "stranger." Some folks just don't understand how genuine friendships can be based on e-mail.

I'd guess that over the past 15 or so years I've met over 50 people that I first got to know on-line.

Our minds are constructed in such a way that we automatically form mental pictures of people we know even if we've never seen them. Apparently we require some sort of visual image to hang our knowledge, suppositions, and opinions of them on. And no one I've eventually met in person has ever looked or sounded at all like I expected, which isn't particularly odd. What is odd — at least the first few times — is how quickly after that initial meeting the other person's actual physical and, especially, vocal character completely supplant the fictional image you've carried around for so long. Within a few short minutes they're as familiar as they would have been if you'd always known them in person.

As it turns out, Angela is much prettier and more elegant than I'd imagined and has a gorgeous and genteel tar-heel accent — characteristics that completely belie the quirky and somewhat warped sense of humor I knew she possessed. Frankly I was expecting someone a bit more country. And speaking of Frank, he turned out to be a quiet and rather taciturn man with a wickedly ironic sense of humor. They were perfect foils for each other.

They didn't know exactly when they'd arrive — between 5:00 and 7:00, they thought — so I needed to fix a meal that would hold well. Neither of them are foodies, although Angela has an appreciation of food. She warned me, though, that Frank is fairly conservative about what he eats. I decided to make pasta Bolognese.

I'd never made it before — never even eaten it — but it's long been on my list and everybody likes spaghetti so I figured Frank would be Ok with it. I used Marcella Hazan's recipe in Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking as the base, but tweaked it a bit. For the pasta, I had some Papardelle that I'd been looking for an excuse to serve and this seemed a good time.

I fixed a salad with raspberry vinaigrette to go along with it and for dessert I made gingerbread cake that I served warm with a sherry sauce. It was all good and we finished off the gingerbread for breakfast this morning before they left.

Ragu Bolognese
Serves 4.

2 tbls olive oil (you can use all olive oil or all butter, here)
1/4 c onion — finely chopped
1/4 c celery — finely chopped
1/4 c carrot — finely chopped
2/3 lb minced or coarsely ground beef
1/3 lb minced or coarsely ground pork
1 tsp salt
ground black pepper
1 c whole milk
1 c dry white wine
1/8 tsp nutmeg
15 oz whole canned tomatoes — roughly chopped, with their juice
2 tbsp tomato paste
2 tsp anchovy paste
1/2 lb parpardelle
2 tbsp butter
Parmigiano

Heat olive oil in a sauté pan over medium heat. Add onion and cook until translucent — about 3 minutes. Add celery and carrot and cook another two minutes. Increase heat to medium high and add beef and pork, season with salt and pepper, and cook stirring as needed, until no pink remains.

Reduce heat to medium low and add milk. Simmer until little or no liquid remains. Add nutmeg and white wine and simmer until little or no liquid remains. Add tomatoes, tomato paste, and anchovy paste, stir to mix thoroughly, reduce heat to low, and simmer for three hours. (Note: the sauce should just barely bubble.) Stir occasionally and add water as needed to prevent mixture from drying out. However, at the end the ragu should not be runny.

Cook pasta and toss with butter. Serve with freshly grated Parmigiano.

We had a great time and, because Angela is a photographer and wanted to see how I take my food pictures, I got some photos before having to clear the dining table so we could eat.

Try this ragu with...
Grape & Rosemary Focaccia
Roasted Garlic Bread
Roasted Cauliflower

Technorati: Food | recipe | kevin d weeks | seriously good | main dish | pasta | italian

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Pasta Carbonara

Italian Ecstasy



A number of years ago I spent a week in Italy with my parents. We rented a villa outside of Rome and used it as a home base to explore Rome and southern Tuscany. One morning we visited the ruins of the Emperor Hadrian’s Villa and afterward had a late lunch at a restaurant there. I ordered Fettuccini Carbonara.

This dish had been a favorite of mine since college when I waited tables at a restaurant where it was a specialty. Over the years I’ve made it many times using a recipe based largely on what I remembered from watching the chef fix it. The version I had in Italy was a revelation.

Carbonara has been a favorite of mine since college when I waited tables at a restaurant where it was a specialty.

When it arrived it was a bright lemon yellow. The color turned out to be egg yolks — multiple egg yolks. My version included a single whole beaten egg. What I was served had at least two yolks in it with no whites and no cream. It was unctuously rich and luscious.

The version below is still basically what I’ve made for years, but I learned a lesson about the eggs in Italy.

Fettuccini Carbonara
Serves 4.

8 ounces fettuccini (or spaghetti)
6 ounces pancetta, 1/4" dice
6 egg yolks
2 tbsp olive oil
12 green onions, sliced 1/4" thick
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 c heavy cream
4 oz parmegiano — grated
2 oz pecorino — grated
1 tsp salt
Additional salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a small bowl mix together egg yolks, cream, and salt.

Add olive oil to a large skillet or saute pan over medium heat. Add pancetta and cook, stirring frequently, for two minutes. Add garlic and onion and continue cooking and stirring for one minute. Remove from heat.

Cook pasta, drain quickly, return to pot and add remaining ingredients stirring constantly to prevent egg yolks from curdling. Serve immediately with a healthy grind of black pepper. Fresh asparagus is a wonderful side dish with this meal and a good Pinot Grigio or Sauvignon Blanc washes it down nicely.

If you can't get pancetta, you can use ordinary bacon, but ham is a better choice. And if you're feeling rowdy, I sometimes substitute country ham for the pancetta.

Try this Carbonara with...
Baked Baby Artichokes
Green Beans with Anchovies
Roasted Rutabaga

Technorati: Food | recipe | kevin d weeks | seriously good | main dish | pasta | italian

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SG Archive:Shrimp Fra Diavolo

The Devil's Shrimp



I eat a fair bit of shrimp. It's relatively cheap, freezes well (so it's easy to keep around in the freezer), and cooks quickly and in addition to other people's recipes I've developed a number of my own recipes using it. For example, I make a Shrimp Ravioli with a shrimp sauce that is really good, and I developed a Low-Country Soufflé that borrows from the ravioli.

And there are traditional dishes such Shrimp and Grits, Shrimp Gumbo, and plain old shrimp boiled in beer for peel-and-eat. All delicious and easy. I've even substituted shrimp for crab in crab cakes (really good).

Although thawing in hot water can be dangerous, in this case the shrimp thaws so quickly (30 minutes or less) and is cooked immediately — so I don't think there's a serious risk.

Shrimp, or Lobster, Fra Diavolo is an Italian/American dish. It's origins aren't clear - at least my research hasn't turned up anything convincing. Diavolo refers to the bit of red pepper added to the dish that gives it a mild kick. It's usually served over pasta, often linguini, fettuccini, or spaghetti. If I'm making it at the last minute (and my shrimp is frozen) I'll dump it in a zip-lock bag and immerse it in hot water to thaw. Although thawing in hot water can be dangerous, in this case the shrimp thaws so quickly (30 minutes or less) and is cooked immediately — so I don't think there's a serious risk.

Shrimp Fra Diavolo
Serves 4.

1 lb shrimp — peeled
1 tsp coarse salt
1 tsp crushed red pepper
3 tbsp olive oil
1 sm onion — diced
2 cloves garlic — sliced
1/2 tsp dried oregano
1 c white wine
1 c diced tomatoes
3 tbsp chopped fresh parsley

Toss shrimp with salt and red pepper and allow to sit a few minutes. Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium heat, add shrimp and cook about 1 minute per side. Reserve shrimp on a plate. Saute onion I oil until translucent. Add garlic and oregano and cook another minute. Add wine and reduce by half. Add tomatoes and heat thoroughly. Add shrimp and cook another minute. Serve immediately over pasta garnished with parsley.

Try Shrimp Fra Diavolo with...
Green Beans with Anchovies
Glazed Carrots with Lemon and Mint
Pear/Raisin Pie

Technorati: Food | recipe | kevin d weeks | seriously good | shrimp | pasta | main dish

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Insalata Pasta con Fruiti de Mare

Summer Eating



Several years ago in Eugene, Oregon I had a party for all of my office mates and wanted to serve a pasta salad - but I wanted something out of the ordinary. So I gave it some thought and came up with this recipe. As I remember my guests scarfed it down like they hadn't eaten in days. Come to think of it, they ate everything like they hadn't eaten in days. A few years later my I hosted a Cooks Bash in California for my Web cooking buddies and we had a picnic at a winery in Napa and I made this salad again for them. Same deal, the pasta salad simply disappeared.

My guests scarfed it down like they hadn't eaten in days.

The salad is a bit unusual in being dressed with olive oil and lemon juice instead of mayonnaise, but the result is a much lighter salad.

Pasta Salad with Seafood
Serves 4 as a light meal or 6 as a side dish.

16 oz. farfalle or other pasta
1/2 c olive oil — divided
1 yellow bell pepper — diced
12 - 16 cherry tomatoes — cut in half
6 tbsp lemon juice
4 oz. boiled shrimp
4 oz. smoked salmon — broken into chunks
4 oz. crab meat
4 tbsp finely chopped fresh dill
Salt and pepper

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add 3 tablespoons of olive oil*. Cook pasta according to package directions. Drain pasta and rinse with cold water.

Transfer pasta to a large mixing bowl, add all other ingredients except tomatoes, and mix well. Chill for at least 2 hours. Add tomatoes just before serving.

Taste and adjust seasonings. Serve.

*Note: Adding oil to the water helps keep the pasta from sticking together.

Try this Pasta Salad with...
Soufflé Provençal
Chicken Saltimbocca
Lemon Chiffon Pie

Elise's Mom's Macaroni Salad
Kalyn's Macaroni Salad with Tomatoes, Basil, & Feta

Technorati: Food | recipe | kevin d weeks | seriously good | salad | pasta | seafood

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Penne with Sausage

Summer's Gift



I bought a Grainger County tomato yesterday afternoon. Grainger County has a micro-climate that allows tomatoes to ripen about two weeks early and at one time we food freaks sought them out for our first taste of summer. Sadly, the secret got out and today Grainger County tomatoes are mass-produced and only slightly better (because they're harvested only a couple of days early instead of a couple of weeks early) than the standard supermarket tomato imported from Florida or California. For lunch today I made a BLT with that tomato (because it needs the help of bacon, lettuce, bread, and mayo to be its best).

But genuine local tomatoes have begun peeping out at the farmers' market. They aren't quite in season yet and the ones I've seen were picked earlier than the ideal (except for the green ones) but I'm guessing they'll be on every farmer's table by the week after next.

I'll stuff my face with good tomatoes until my skin turns red.

If you haven't guessed, I happen to be a tomato-eating fool. I'll stuff my face with good tomatoes until my skin turns red. Once they're readily available my lunch almost every day for a month will be sliced tomatoes with basil and cheese dressed with salt, lemon juice, and olive oil. The only variation will be in the cheese: feta, fresh mozzarella; or chèvre. I'll also snack on "cherry" tomatoes most afternoons.

And tomatoes will appear in my suppers. I've got a Roasted Garlic and Tomato Soup recipe that I'll be passing on here later and I make gazpacho two or three times every summer — both are great with sandwich suppers. But something I made last year and never got around to writing about is first on my supper list this year. It's simple but incredibly intense and really makes the best of the ingredients.

Penne with Sausage and Roasted Tomato Sauce
Serves 6.

3 links Italian Sausage (about 3/4 lb) — cut into 1/4" slices
8 lg roasted tomatoes with oil
1 md green bell pepper — 1/2" dice
1 md yellow onion — 1/2" dice
3 anchovy filets — rinsed and minced
3 lg cloves garlic — finely sliced
1/4 c red wine
1 lb penne or rigatoni
Leaves of 2 sprigs of fresh oregano
shredded Parmigiano Reggiano

Roast tomatoes and pour off oil, reserving. Coarsely chop tomatoes in a blender or food processor.

Brown Italian sausage in a non-stick skillet over medium-high heat then drain on paper towels.

Pour off rendered fat, reserving about a teaspoon and add oil from roasted tomatoes - you should have about 2 tablespoons of oil in total. Add pepper, onion, and anchovies and sauté over medium heat until onions are lightly browned. Add garlic and cook 1 minute longer.

Add red wine and deglaze skillet. Add chopped tomatoes and sausage and simmer over medium heat for 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, cook pasta according to package directions. When pasta is done, drain. Add fresh oregano to sauce, spoon sauce over pasta, and top with shredded Parmigiano.

Try Penne with Sausage with...
Feta Stuffed Peppers
Fraised Brussles Sprouts
Grape/Rosemary Focaccia

Technorati: Food | recipe | kevin d weeks | seriously good | pasta | main dish | italian

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Pastitsio

Food for Working



Jeez! "Food for Working" sounds like a white-collar pretension of blue-collar roots, doesn’t it? But I don’t mean it that way. We all have jobs. We all sometimes get up earlier than we wish. We have aspects of our jobs we hate (and, hopefully, aspects we love). We all feel we're worth more than we're paid. We all get tired and irritable. We all come home from our jobs to eat things that, in a more perfect world, we'd avoid but that are quick, easy, and require no thought. Food that satisfies nothing more than our need for enough nutrition to enable us to get up too early tomorrow and do it all over again.

I've eaten my share of such meals, and I would be the last to argue there's something inherently wrong with a TV dinner or stopping by a KFC (I don't know what a KFC is, but it tastes a little bit like chicken) on your way home or even ordering a pizza from Papa John's. I eat all those things, but not often. For me, they're almost treats (and it's definitely a treat when I get a pizza delivered) and I like it that way.

When I come home from work (or, these days, knock off from work at home) I want something packed with flavor and goodness. Something that can make up for a bad day or celebrate a good day equally well.

But when I come home from work (or, these days, knock off from work at home) I want something packed with flavor and goodness. Something that can make up for a bad day or celebrate a good day equally well — and in my years of eating and cooking I've found that nothing serves so well as peasant food.

What is peasant food? It's the native food of a culture. It's what the poor people, the working class, ate. In this country it's what the immigrants ate before they got hooked on Kraft Mac-n-Cheese and Burger King and frozen dinners and forgot how to cook. And I guess, to that degree, the idea of peasant food is pretentious — even condescending. But, again, that's not my intent.

Although I don’t come from a blue-collar background, I did grow up on a farm and have hauled more hay, dug more post-holes, and weeded more corn than I like to remember. I've also made a living refinishing furniture, making pizza, checking stock, playing music, and a few other things. My life as a well-paid white-collar worker was relatively brief — and even then my preference was for lamb daube from Provencal, masallah from India, Cornish pasties from England, and fried chicken from the South. It's not food well-suited to our sedentary life-styles, but it's food that makes you glad you were born with a set of functioning taste buds.

Some of these peasant foods are now regarded as haute cuisine. Fondue? Invented by Swiss herders. Bouillabaisse? Whatever the fishermen in Marseilles couldn’t sell. Cassoulet? Beans used to make a bit of leftover meat go further. Pâte? It's just meatloaf with the added advantage of making liver more palatable.

Then there are the wonderful things like stew, chile, homemade pizza, and barbeque that remain un-apologetically low-brow. And they are foods that take cheap ingredients and make them deeply satisfying. For instance two 12-inch pizzas from Papa John's cost about $25, but I can make two superior pizzas for $8.

Whatever their origins, such foods are simple to make, packed with flavor, and a satisfying end to a long day whether you were pruning grape vines, managing a shop, or debating an ordinance at city hall. They just aren't "fast." But many such foods are better the second or third day anyway — so make them when you have time and regard the leftovers as a bonus. Something to be looked forward to, not avoided. Something to make a really good dinner completely painless, at least half the time. Something for those nights when you get home tired and hungry. Something to replenish your body and your soul.

And if tonight is such a night, Pastitsio, a Greek meat and pasta pie, is a perfect example. It's best with lamb, but beef also works. Pastitsio is rich and savory — a genuine "rib-sticker" as we say in the South — and is at least as good as leftovers as it is the day you make it. Don't let the nutmeg and cinnamon scare you off — you'll never know they're there, but the dish is poorer without them. Enjoy it with a hearty Zinfandel or Malbec.

Pastitsio
Serves 8.

1/2 pound penne pasta
1/2 pound shredded mozarella

Lamb mixture:
1 pound ground lamb (or beef)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion — diced
2 large cloves garlic — minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon minced fresh oregano (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup red wine
1 can finely diced tomatoes (15 oz)
4 ounces feta cheese — crumbled

Sauce:
3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk
2 egg yolks — lightly beaten
4 ounces kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese — grated or shredded
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Cook penne according to package directions. Drain, rinse with cold water to eliminate sticking, and set aside.

Lamb mixture:
Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium high heat. Brown lamb in two batches, seasoning with salt and pepper. Set lamb aside and pour off excess grease.

Reduce heat to medium and add onion. Cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, rosemary, oregano, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Cook another minute. Add wine and deglaze pan. Reduce wine to about 1 tablespoon. Stir in tomatoes, including liquid, and lamb. Season with additional salt and pepper. Simmer for about 15 minutes. Stir in feta cheese and cook another 5 minutes.

Heat oven to 400F.

Sauce:
Heat milk in the microwave on high for 1 1/2 minutes. Melt butter in a sauce pan over low heat. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for four minutes. Slowly pour in hot milk, whisking steadily, and cook until thickened. Slowly whisk in egg yolks. Whisk in kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese, cooking until melted and thick. Stir in salt and pepper.

Assemble:
Toss pasta with shredded mozzarella. Layer 3/4 of pasta in the bottom of 9 x 13 casserole dish. Layer meat mixture on top of pasta. Distribute remaining pasta over meat. Pour sauce evenly over pasta.

Place casserole in middle of oven and cook for 25 - 30 minutes until top browns.

Technorati: Food | recipe | lamb | pasta | greece | greek | pastitsio

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Paisano: Pasta e Fagiole

Liquid Italian Art



My father is a good driver. He's competent, confident, and careful. As a rule one wouldn't think twice about riding in a car with him — unless you're in Italy. Put him behind the wheel of a Fiat in Italy and his white hair turns glossy black, his beard shrinks into a mustache, the second button on his shirt opens exposing a crucifix on a chain. He drives with the gas pedal flat to the floor (thank God it's only a Fiat), he passes on the right and on curves — he scared the bejeezus out of me.

Several years ago my father attended several conferences in Europe, taking my mother along, and they asked me if I wanted to join them for a week in Tuscany visiting some of the less tourist-encrusted sites such as the Etruscan tombs and Hadrian's Villa. So I flew over and we had a marvelous week together — except in the car.

At least he wasn't waving gaily to the North-African prostitutes one sees at the most lonely, out-of-way spots along the road.

Fortunately, because of the nature of the sites we were visiting, we were mostly driving on well-maintained, two-lane highways where his suddenly Italian driving form wasn't outrageously risky (although my mother did develop severe cramps in her brake leg). And at least he wasn't waving gaily to the North-African prostitutes one sees at the most lonely, out-of-way spots along the road. Apparently in Italy they have highway-walkers as well as street-walkers.

At any rate, as I was making this Pasta e Fagiole the other night I hung my head over the pot to take a sniff and the odor immediately reminded me of our week in Italy. Fair warning, this is my recipe and not some age-old Italian version. I stole a bit here and a bit there from other recipes in putting it together, nevertheless, my nose told me I had something that would pass for authentic. And, like all such traditional recipes, authenticity is what the cook decides is authentic.

Pasta e Fagiole
Serves 6.

1/2 lb. short pasta (macaroni, penne, fusilli...)
4 qt. chicken broth or stock (I used homemade stock)
1 15 oz. can diced tomatoes
1 15 oz. can cannelloni beans
1/2 lb. Italian sausage (2 links) — cut into 1/4" rounds
1/2 lg. yellow onion — small dice
2 lg. garlic cloves — coarsely chopped
1 1/2 tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. dried basil
1/2 tsp. dried sage
1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes
1 tsp. anchovy paste

Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a medium skillet. Add sausage and brown on both sides — 8 to 10 minutes — then drain on a paper towel. Add the onion to the skillet and cook until beginning to brown (4 -5 minutes), add garlic, and cook a minute longer. Scoop onto plate with sausage.

Drain and completely rinse beans. Process half to a puree in a food processor

Bring the chicken stock to a boil, add pasta, and cook for 8 - 9 minutes. (The pasta should be slightly underdone.) Reduce heat to a simmer. Add all ingredients to pot and simmer for 10 minutes. Taste, adjust seasonings, and serve.

Note: I added a couple of old Parmigiano Regianno cheese rinds to the soup (I keep them for just that purpose), which added a bit more savor.

Technorati: Food | recipe | kevin d weeks | seriously good | soup | main dish | pasta | beans | italian

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Lasagna

Taking a Break



As much as I love experimenting with new dishes and variations on older dishes, sometimes I get burned out on the entire process. During the past two months I've prepared 2 1/2 Thanksgiving dinners and two Christmas dinners for various articles. And I have one more Christmas dinner to make for my family. This intense focus on on cooking as business means that sometimes cooking, and even eating, just becomes a chore. More work than fun, more duty than pleasure. Unfortunately this condition is a form of apathy and the trouble with apathy is you don't feel like doing anything about it.

This intense focus on on cooking as business means that sometimes cooking, and even eating, just becomes a chore.

When these moods come upon me I turn to old standbys. These are often also comfort foods, but their purpose in this case isn't to provide comfort, but rather to provide a good meal requiring little or no thought — a homemade equivalent of fast food. One of my standbys is lasagna.

This works because I usually have almost everything I need to make a simple and satisfying lasagna on hand — noodles, mozzarella, Parmigiano, eggs, Italian sausage, and even tomato sauce in the freezer. I don't usually have ricotta in the fridge, but that's a very quick trip to the store. It takes me about 45 minutes to make from the time the pasta water goes on the stove until the completed dish goes in the oven.

Basic Lasagna
Serves 8.

6 ea lasagna noodles (I prefer the kind you need to boil first)
1/2 lb Italian sausage
1/2 pound mushrooms — sliced
1 1/4 c ricotta
1/2 lb shredded mozzarella (if you have provolone on hand, I like a mixture of half and half mozzarella and provolone)
1 oz shredded Parmigiano
1 ea egg
3 c tomato sauce

Heat oven to 375F.

Cook noodles according to package directions, drain, and pat dry

Remove casing from Italian sausage, crumble, and cook in a skillet until done. Drain. Add sliced mushrooms to skillet and cook until browned. Mix with sausage. Mix ricotta, egg, and 1/4 cup shredded Parmigiano in a small bowl.

Spoon a thin layer of sauce in bottom of casserole dish. Place a layer of noodles on sauce and trim to fit dish if needed. Spread half of ricotta mixture on noodles. Sprinkle half of sausage/mushroom mixture over ricotta. Spoon half of remaining tomato sauce on layer. Sprinkle with half of mozzarella.

Repeat layering with remaining ingredients but reserve remaining mozarrella. Cover with foil and cook on middle rack for 20 minutes. Remove foil and sprinkle with remaining mozzarella and Parmigiano. Continue cooking until cheese browns.

Try this Lasagna with...
Leeks with Anchovy Butter
Sauteed Greens with Anchovies

Technorati: Food | recipe | kevin d weeks | seriously good | main dish | lasagna | pasta

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Teaser

Teaser



This is farfalle and rotelli pasta with homemade lamb sausage and local sheeps milk cheese. No recipe worth mentioning, except the sausage.

But that recipe isn't quite perfect yet. Almost, but not quite. It needs more wine, a touch of heat, a soupcon more garlic, and the mustard seed is worthless.

When it is perfect I'll share it. In the meantime, with pasta olives, and sauteed onion and bell pepper it's pretty damned good. In fact, it's pretty damned good just fried in skillet.

Technorati: Food | photo | kevin d weeks | seriously good | pasta | lamb | sausage

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Baked Ziti with Chicken

Summer Eating: Stage II



Here in Knoxville we're at the height of the summer vegetable season. The farmers' market is packed with growers, crops, and customers. The heat (101F here yesterday) hasn't scared anyone off — although the heat is exactly why I dislike gardening. But I can stand it for the 30 or so minutes it takes me to make my selections.

When the first summer crops, tomatoes, corn, squash, and so on, begin arriving I tend to keep my preparations simple so I can fully enjoy the individual flavors. Tomatoes get a some basil, lemon juice, and olive oil, corn is eaten on the cob, and squash is sautéed with olive and perhaps a few herbs. Covering up or even mixing up those fresh flavors that I've been craving for months seems sinful.

You can't lie about cooking. You either do it well or you don't. ~ Molly O'Neill

But as the summer wears on the novelty wears off and I start making gazpacho, cucumber soup, and vichyssoise. I'll sauté tomatoes, squash, and corn together with a dose of chipotle powder. Or I'll make that Southern favorite, squash and cheese casserole. These are still simple preparations that leave the fresh flavors intact, but the flavors are more complex. I may add a couple of anchovy filets to sautéed vegetables, and the cucumber soup contains curry powder.

One of my favorite dishes at this time of year is baked pasta. It's tremendously flexible and, although it requires some work, the leftovers are good for a couple of days of not cooking at all — so I consider it well-justified. In this particular case I chopped up tomatoes, a small zucchini, a small onion, and some red bell pepper to which I added chicken. But I've also made it with tomato, green beans, eggplant, and Italian sausage and various other combinations depending on what was available. The main key is to cook all the ingredients in advance till they're just under-done and then mix them and place in a casserole. Here's what I did this time.

Baked Ziti
Serves 6.

1/2 lb ziti
2 tbsp olive oil
2 lg. chicken breasts — cut into 3/4" cubes
1 sm. zucchini — cut into 1/2" dice
1 sm. onion — cut into quarters vertically and then sliced crosswise into 1/2" strips
1 sm. red bell pepper — cut into 1/2" x 2" strips
2 - 3 med. tomatoes — chopped & seeded (reserving seeds and pulp)
pinch crushed red pepper
2 cloves garlic — minced
3 sprigs fresh basil — chiffonade
1/2 c white wine
1/4 lb fontina — shredded
1/4 lb provolone — shredded
1/4 lb asiago — shredded
salt and pepper

Heat oven to 400F. Prep all ingredients.

Cook ziti according to package directions. Mix cheeses together.

Meanwhile, heat olive oil in a skillet over medium high heat. Generously season chicken with salt and pepper, then lightly brown. Set aside. Add zucchini, onion, and bell pepper to skillet and cook until veggies begin to soften (you may need to. Add tomato pulp, garlic, and a pinch of crushed red pepper and cook another couple of minutes until most of the quid has evaporated. Turn veggies out onto a plate, return the skillet to the heat and add the wine. Deglaze skillet and reduce wine by half. Remove from heat.

Drain pasta and return to pot. Add chicken, veggies, wine, basil, and 3/4 of cheese. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Turn out into a large casserole dish, sprinkle with remaining cheese, cover, and bake in center of oven for 15 minutes. Remove cover and bake another 15 minutes. Serve.

This may seem a bit complicated, but isn't. The complete prep only takes 35 - 40 minutes, the flavors are marvelously fresh with a nice subtle heat from the red pepper. And as I said, the leftovers are excellent. If you're cooking for a family, just double the quantities.

Technorati: Food | recipe | kevin weeks | seriously good | summer | veggies | pasta | main dish

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Shrimp Ravioli

Will Cook for Writing



I wrote my first article for publication in 1989. The topic was a computer program I'd written and I was astounded when it was accepted for publication. So I wrote another article and it too was promptly accepted. This was back in the hay-day of programming magazines and there were lots of them around.

During the next six years I published three to five articles a year and began speaking at conferences, which meant writing papers for them. Then I was offered a job as Senior Editor at Windows Tech Journal and began writing a bi-monthly, and then monthly, editorial in addition to a couple of articles a year. The amount of writing I've done since then has fluctuated, but writing became how I identified myself.

You can say this for ready-mixes - the next generation isn't going to have any trouble making pies exactly like mother used to make. ~ Earl Wilson

In 2003 the last magazine I edited (and computer magazine I wrote for) closed down and left me bereft of a writing outlet — so I started Seriously Good (a reference to a search for great food and not a statement about either the food's or writing's excellence.)

At first I didn’t post a lot, partially because writing reminded me I was out of work and didn't have an inkling of what to do about it. But eventually I found a groove mostly creating new recipes and writing about it and SG became a cherished part of my day as I focused on efforts to build a professional life around food and cooking.

Then in January of this year things suddenly took off. I sold a few gift certificates for Christmas, I picked up a couple of new clients, cooking classes took off, and I picked up a weekly column, semi-monthly column, and sold three free-lance pieces. Whew!

But the work has come at the expense of this blog. This beloved and dependable friend. This past weekend I decided I needed to cook something specifically for it. Casting about for ideas I settled on homemade ravioli, but what to fill it with?

I had some shrimp and ricotta left over from a client's meal and with a little thought, came up with this. It's packed with shrimp flavor, nicely tweaked with an Italian herb mix and hot Hungarian paprika. It is Seriously Good.

Basic Pasta
Makes about 1/2 pound

1 1/3 c all-purpose flour
2 ea eggs

Place flour in a food processor. With motor running add eggs. Dough should quickly form a ball. If dough is too dry, add water a teaspoon at a time to running machine. If dough is too wet, add additional flour a tablespoon at a time and then process. Form dough into a ball, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate until ready to roll out – at least half an hour.

Set pasta rollers on widest setting and flatten dough enough to go through rollers. Fold dough in thirds, horizontally and roll again with a seamed edge first. Repeat four more times. This process kneads the dough and develops the glutin giving the pasta a toothiness.

Reduce roller setting by one and roll dough through. Repeat ruducing setting and rolling pasta through until desired setting is reached. Note 1: when the dough becomes too long to handle comnfortably, cut in half and finish rolling out each half. Note 2: If pasta begins to stick to rollers lightly dust with flour.

Shrimp Ravioli
Serves 4.

1/2 lb fresh pasta

Shrimp:
1 lb shrimp — shelled and coarsley chopped
1/2 tsp coarse salt
1 tsp hot Hungarian paprika
1 tsp dried Italian herbs
2 tbsps olive oil
2 lg cloves garlic, large — peeled and minced
2 tsp unsalted butter
Filling:
1/4 c ricotta cheese
1/4 c greated parmesan cheese
1 ea egg — beaten
Sauce:
1 lg clove garlic — finely minced
1 tbsp tomato paste
1 c shrimp stock (or clam juice)
1/2 c white wine
1/2 c heavy cream
1/4 tsp ground white pepper
3 tbsp minced fresh chives

Shrimp:
Pat shrimp dry and season with salt and paprika. Allow to sit for 30 minutes. In a 12" skillet, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil and 2 cloves garlic over medium heat for 1 minute. Add shrimp, and saute until just cooked — about 1 minute per side. Add butter and toss to coat. Allow to cool. Finely chop shrimp in a food processor or blender, devide shrimp into two equal portions.

Filling:
Thoroughly combine 1/2 shrimp, ricotta, parmesan, and egg. Chill for at least 1/2 hour.

Roll out pasta, but not too thin — it has to be strong enough to hold the filling. Cut a strip in half lenthwise (each strip should be about 3 inches wide). Place heaping teaspoons of the filling on one strip, separated by about one inch. Brush edges of strip and between mounds of filling with water. Carefully lay the second strip over the top and press edges and between mounds to seal. Note: try to include as little air in each sealed packet as possible. Trim the edges and cut each mound into separate ravioli. Gently crimp edges with a fork. Place on a lightly floured platter or baking sheet and refrigerate. Repeat for other strip of dough. Allow ravioli to chill for 30 minutes before cooking.

Sauce:
In a 12" skillet, heat garlic in 1 tablespoon olive oil over low heat until fragrant and translucent — about 1 minute. Add tomato paste, salt, cayenne, and white wine increase heat to medium. Cook until reduced by half. Add stock and cook until reduced by half.

Stir in remaining minced shrimp and cream. Simmer gently until cream is slightly reduced — stirring steadily to prevent curdling.

Cook pasta for about two minutes in vigorously boiling, salted water. Spoon sauce over the top and garnish with minced chives.

Technorati: Food | recipe | shrimp | pasta | ravioli

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Pastitsio

Food for Working



Jeez! "Food for Working" sounds like a white-collar pretension of blue-collar roots, doesn’t it? But I don’t mean it that way. We all have jobs. We all sometimes get up earlier than we wish. We have aspects of our jobs we hate (and, hopefully, aspects we love). We all feel we're worth more than we're paid. We all get tired and irritable. We all come home from our jobs to eat things that, in a more perfect world, we'd avoid but that are quick, easy, and require no thought. Food that satisfies nothing more than our need for enough nutrition to enable us to get up too early tomorrow and do it all over again.

I've eaten my share of such meals, and I would be the last to argue there's something inherently wrong with a TV dinner or stopping by a KFC (I don't know what a KFC is, but it tastes a little bit like chicken) on your way home or even ordering a pizza from Pap John's. I eat all those things, but not often. For me, they're almost treats (and it's definitely a treat when I get a pizza delivered) and I like it that way.

If we're not willing to settle for junk living, we certainly shouldn't settle for junk food. ~ Sally Edwards

But when I come home from work (or, these days, knock off from work at home) I want something packed with flavor and goodness. Something that can make up for a bad day or celebrate a good day equally well — and in my years of eating and cooking I've found that nothing serves so well as peasant food.

What is peasant food? It's the native food of a culture. It's what the poor people, the working class, ate. In this country it's what the immigrants ate before they got hooked on Kraft Mac-n-Cheese and Burger King and frozen dinners and forgot how to cook. And I guess, to that degree, the idea of peasant food is pretentious — even condescending. But, again, that's not my intent.

Although I don’t come from a blue-collar background, I did grow up on a farm and have hauled more hay, dug more post-holes, and weeded more corn than I like to remember. I've also made a living refinishing furniture, making pizza, checking stock, playing music, and a few other things. My life as a well-paid white-collar worker was relatively brief — and even then my preference was for lamb daube from Provencal, masallah from India, Cornish pasties from England, and fried chicken from the South. It's not food well-suited to our sedentary life-styles, but it's food that makes you glad you were born with a set of functioning taste buds.

Some of these peasant foods are now regarded as haute cuisine. Fondue? Invented by Swiss herders. Bouillabaisse? Whatever the fishermen in Marseilles couldn’t sell. Cassoulet? Beans used to make a bit of leftover meat go further. Pâte? It's just meatloaf with the added advantage of making liver more palatable.

Then there are the wonderful things like stew, chile, homemade pizza, and barbeque that remain un-apologetically low-brow. And they are foods that take cheap ingredients and make them deeply satisfying. For instance two 12-inch pizzas from Papa John's cost about $25, but I can make two superior pizzas for $8.

Whatever their origins, such foods are simple to make, packed with flavor, and a satisfying end to a long day whether you were pruning grape vines, managing a shop, or debating an ordinance at city hall. They just aren't "fast." But many such foods are better the second or third day anyway — so make them when you have time and regard the leftovers as a bonus. Something to be looked forward to, not avoided. Something to make a really good dinner completely painless, at least half the time. Something for those nights when you get home tired and hungry. Something to replenish your body and your soul.

And if tonight is such a night, Pastitsio, a Greek meat and pasta pie, is a perfect example. It's best with lamb, but beef also works. Pastitsio is rich and savory — a genuine "rib-sticker" as we say in the South — and is at least as good as leftovers as it is the day you make it. Don't let the nutmeg and cinnamon scare you off — you'll never know they're there, but the dish is poorer without them. Enjoy it with a hearty Zinfandel or Malbec.

Pastitsio
Serves 8.

1/2 pound penne pasta
1/2 pound shredded mozarella

Lamb mixture:
1 pound ground lamb (or beef)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion — diced
2 large cloves garlic — minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon minced fresh oregano (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup red wine
1 can finely diced tomatoes (15 oz)
4 ounces feta cheese — crumbled

Sauce:
3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk
2 egg yolks — lightly beaten
4 ounces kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese — grated or shredded
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Cook penne according to package directions. Drain, rinse with cold water to eliminate sticking, and set aside.

Lamb mixture:
Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium high heat. Brown lamb in two batches, seasoning with salt and pepper. Set lamb aside and pour off excess grease.

Reduce heat to medium and add onion. Cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, rosemary, oregano, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Cook another minute. Add wine and deglaze pan. Reduce wine to about 1 tablespoon. Stir in tomatoes, including liquid, and lamb. Season with additional salt and pepper. Simmer for about 15 minutes. Stir in feta cheese and cook another 5 minutes.

Heat oven to 400F.

Sauce:
Heat milk in the microwave on high for 1 1/2 minutes. Melt butter in a sauce pan over low heat. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for four minutes. Slowly pour in hot milk, whisking steadily, and cook until thickened. Slowly whisk in egg yolks. Whisk in kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese, cooking until melted and thick. Stir in salt and pepper.

Assemble:
Toss pasta with shredded mozzarella. Layer 3/4 of pasta in the bottom of 9 x 13 casserole dish. Layer meat mixture on top of pasta. Distribute remaining pasta over meat. Pour sauce evenly over pasta.

Place casserole in middle of oven and cook for 25 - 30 minutes until top browns.

Technorati: Food | recipe | lamb | pasta | greece | greek | pastitsio

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Ragu from Bologna

In the Flesh



Yesterday some friends were passing through Knoxville on their way to Memphis from Winston-Salem, North Carolina so of course I invited them to have supper here and stay the night. Actually, I didn't know him but I've known her for about five years — we'd just never met I the flesh before.

This is old-hat for me. I'd guess that over the past 15 or so years I've met over 50 people that I first got to know on-line. But Angela was nervous about it and her husband, Frank, was downright skeptical about the whole idea of making friends on-line — much less planning on staying the night with a "stranger." Some folks just don't understand how genuine friendships can be based on e-mail.

Angela is much prettier and more elegant than I'd imagined and has a gorgeous and genteel tar-heel accent — characteristics that completely belie the quirky and somewhat warped sense of humor I knew she possessed.

Our minds are constructed in such a way that we automatically form mental pictures of people we know even if we've never seen them. Apparently we require some sort of visual image to hang our knowledge, suppositions, and opinions of them on. And no one I've eventually met in person has ever looked or sounded at all like I expected, which isn't particularly odd. What is odd — at least the first few times — is how quickly after that initial meeting the other person's actual physical and, especially, vocal character completely supplant the fictional image you've carried around for so long. Within a few short minutes they're as familiar as they would have been if you'd always known them in person.

As it turns out, Angela is much prettier and more elegant than I'd imagined and has a gorgeous and genteel tar-heel accent — characteristics that completely belie the quirky and somewhat warped sense of humor I knew she possessed. Frankly I was expecting someone a bit more country. And speaking of Frank, he turned out to be a quiet and rather taciturn man with a wickedly ironic sense of humor. They were perfect foils for each other.

They didn't know exactly when they'd arrive — between 5:00 and 7:00, they thought — so I needed to fix a meal that would hold well. Neither of them are foodies, although Angela has an appreciation of food. She warned me, though, that Frank is fairly conservative about what he eats. I decided to make pasta Bolognese.

I'd never made it before — never even eaten it — but it's long been on my list and everybody likes spaghetti so I figured Frank would be Ok with it. I used Marcella Hazan's recipe in Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking as the base, but tweaked it a bit. For the pasta, I had some Papardelle that I'd been looking for an excuse to serve and this seemed a good time.

I fixed a salad with raspberry vinaigrette to go along with it and for dessert I made gingerbread cake that I served warm with a sherry sauce. It was all good and we finished off the gingerbread for breakfast this morning before they left.

Ragu Bolognese
Serves 6.

3 tbls olive oil
1/2 c finely chopped onion
1/3 c finely chopped celery
1/3 c finely chopped carrot
1 lb beef — minced or coarsely ground
1/2 lb pork — minced or coarsely ground
1 1/2 tsp salt
ground black pepper
1 1/2 c whole milk
1 1/2 c dry white wine
1/4 tsp nutmeg
28 oz whole tomatoes — roughly chopped, with their juice
3 tbsp tomato paste
3 tsp anchovy paste
1 lb parpardelle
4 tbsp butter
Parmigiano Regiano

Heat olive oil in a sauté pan over medium heat. Add onion and cook until translucent -- about 3 minutes. Add celery and carrot and cook another two minutes. Increase heat to medium high and add beef and pork, season with salt and pepper, and cook stirring as needed, until no pink remains.

Reduce heat to medium low and add milk. Simmer until little or no liquid remains. Add nutmeg and white wine and simmer until little or no liquid remains. Add tomatoes, tomato paste, and anchovy paste, stir to mix thoroughly, reduce heat to low, and simmer for three hours. (Note: the sauce should just barely bubble.) Stir occasionally and add water as needed to prevent mixture from drying out. However, at the end the ragu should not be runny.

Cook pasta and toss with butter. Serve with freshly grated Parmigiano.

We had a great time and, because Angela is a photographer and wanted to see how I take my food pictures, I got some photos before having to clear the dining table so we could eat.

Technorati: Food | recipe | main dish | pasta | bolognese

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