Tag Archives: pasta

Wild Mushroom Cannelloni with Kale Pesto and Bechamel

Recipes for a Cure
This saucy dish is part of a collection of recipes written to benefit the National MS Society. In 2008, my sister Lexi (then 21 years old) was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. We formed a team of friends and family called MS is BS (Mind Strong is Body Strong), and each year we raise thousands of dollars for MS research. This recipe was written in tribute to a generous donation towards my $1500 fundraising minimum for the 2013 Capital Challenge Walk, a two-day 50K walk through Maryland, Virginia and DC. Learn more about team MS is BS on our website at http://msisbs.org.

Shrooms and Dinosaurs.  For Real.

In crafting this recipe, I was reminded of the fact that the reason I love to cook is because it is one of the few tasks that allows me to both obsess over ingredients and elevate them at the same time.  The creation of this recipe started with a memory – I was in Italy for the summer on a study abroad (aka. the photography boondoggle in Europe) with my good friend Lauren.  There were easily a hundred of us living in Orvieto, all crammed into the same little hotel, each with our favorite spots in the town that we had claimed as our own.  Lauren was in love with this one haunt for lunch, and not only did she try to eat there just about every day, but she informed me over a bottle (or two) of white wine that she tended to always order the same thing – the simply dressed green salad and tagliatelle with fresh porcini mushrooms. I loved the town already, but that lunch made me weep with joy at how lucky we were to be there. Continue reading Wild Mushroom Cannelloni with Kale Pesto and Bechamel

Potato Gnocchi alla Sorrentina

Recipe for The Daring Kitchen
When I first learned about The Daring Kitchen, I was excited to join a group that would provide me with monthly culinary inspiration. This month’s assignment (and my very first with TDK) was created by Steph from Stephfood, our Daring Cooks’ July hostess. Steph challenged us to make homemade noodles without the help of a motorized pasta machine. She provided us with recipes for Spätzle and Fresh Egg Pasta as well as a few delicious sauces to pair our noodles with! Steph also encouraged us to make noodles that celebrated our culinary heritage. See Full Gnocchi Feast Menu

Authentic-tasting gnocchi are a tall order, but inspired by the charm and panache of the Franks (Falcinelli and Castronovo) of Frankie’s Sputino in Brooklyn, everyone is an expert Italian chef. Although this recipe was a part of my goal to make four gnocchi dishes for The Daring Kitchen, the preparation of the dish proved hardly a challenge. And not because the fickle gnocchi gods* were smiling at me that day, but rather that this recipe must be the master recipe for the most perfect gnocchi. In the amount of time that it took me to boil a pot of water and futz around with a marinara sauce, I had a dough that was pliant, smooth and gorgeous. A little effortless rolling and cutting resulted in photo-ready dumplings. And a quick trip into a jacuzzi of water yielded gnocchi that tasted of heaven. Where were the Franks grandmas so that I could kiss them on both cheeks and throw my hands up in the air? Continue reading Potato Gnocchi alla Sorrentina

Malfatti with Bolognese

Recipe for The Daring Kitchen
When I first learned about The Daring Kitchen, I was excited to join a group that would provide me with monthly culinary inspiration. This month’s assignment (and my very first with TDK) was created by Steph from Stephfood, our Daring Cooks’ July hostess. Steph challenged us to make homemade noodles without the help of a motorized pasta machine. She provided us with recipes for Spätzle and Fresh Egg Pasta as well as a few delicious sauces to pair our noodles with! Steph also encouraged us to make noodles that celebrated our culinary heritage. See Full Gnocchi Feast Menu
Malfatti, despite the aggressive name (“poorly made” in Italian) are a revelation. I first tasted these babies at a restaurant off of the Piazza del Campo in Siena. Trying to get away from the tourist traps lining the heart of the city, we stumbled into Serafino’s, a small family restaurant run by the daper patriarch of the place, Serafino himself. We made fast friends with the owner/head chef and fell in love with his culinary prowess. Sampling the malfatti, dumplings made of spinach and ricotta held together by sheer will, I knew that we’d stumbled upon something special. How the hell were they made? Continue reading Malfatti with Bolognese

Instant Potato Gnocchi with Prosciutto, Peas and Chanterelle Mushrooms

Recipe for The Daring Kitchen
When I first learned about The Daring Kitchen, I was excited to join a group that would provide me with monthly culinary inspiration. This month’s assignment (and my very first with TDK) was created by Steph from Stephfood, our Daring Cooks’ July hostess. Steph challenged us to make homemade noodles without the help of a motorized pasta machine. She provided us with recipes for Spätzle and Fresh Egg Pasta as well as a few delicious sauces to pair our noodles with! Steph also encouraged us to make noodles that celebrated our culinary heritage. See Full Gnocchi Feast Menu
Shortcuts in the kitchen vary rarely lead to splendid results.  Garbage in, garbage out, and no glory in between.  It was with this sentiment and a whole lot of skepticism  that I approached the idea of a pillowy, toothsome gnocchi made of instant potatoes.  How could that be?

Given that this recipe was to become a part of a cluster of gnocchi recipe all undertaken together for The Daring Kitchen, I decided to approach the recipe as just that – a dare.  How could I turn fake-me-out mashed potatoes into gourmet glory.  The base recipe was fairly simple, reconstituting the dried flakes and then adding the traditional gnocchi add-ins of flour and egg.  I then swaped out the boiling water for the soaking liquid from some dried chanterelle mushroom, adding a gloriously nutty flavor to plain old potato dumplings.  I then dressed the little treasures in one of my favorite sauces of prosciutto, peas and cream.  Perfection! Continue reading Instant Potato Gnocchi with Prosciutto, Peas and Chanterelle Mushrooms

Drunken Pasta with Blond Oxtail Ragu

Foodbuzz 24 x 24 | An Ode to Orvieto

This recipe was a part of a special menu for Foodbuzz’s June 2011 food blogger party, 24×24. Showcasing posts from 24 Foodbuzz Featured Publisher bloggers, the monthly Foodbuzz 24 highlights unique meals occurring around the globe during a 24-hour period. Read more about my meal along with all of the other recipes at An Ode to Orvieto.

Of the many meals that I’ve eaten in my life time, only two do I consider truly transcendental. One of which, a dinner served al fresco on the cobblestone streets of Orvieto, was at a little haunt called L’Asino D’oro (Italian for “The Golden Ass”). We had decided to go, a group of us, on the cryptic recommendation of one of our professors, “It’s the most amazing meal of your life. Oh, and if they have the stinco, order it. I don’t know what stinco means, but it’s incredible.” A table was set right in front of the restaurant that looked more townhouse than dining space. Apparently, only two or three parties could dine each evening, and the process of making a “reservation” was literally informing the owner that you would be popping by. In a clammour of conversations in rapid-fire english and broken italian, it was accidentally (or maybe it was intentionally) relayed to the owner to bring us one of everything on the menu. Plate after plate of deliciousness, from fat little sardines dressed in tomato sauce to marbled platters of salumi to heaping mounds of toothsome fresh cut pastas, graced the table as we barely kept up.

One dish in particular gave me pause as for the life of me, I could not figure out the angle.  Gorgeous purple noodles were topped with a savory braised stew of sorts.  I peeked at the menu and saw that it was Tagliatelle all’Ubriaco con Ragu di Coda de Bue.  What the…?  I asked one of the guys on the trip who spoke fuent italian for a little translation help, to which he proffered, “It’s some kind of tail.”  Wait, wha?

I came home and did a little research – coda de bue was oxtail and the sauce was a ragu di carne bianche, or a tomato-less ragu.  In addition, the boozy pasta was purple from a bath in red wine as opposed to the traditional salt water jacuzzi.  What a revelation!  Between the absence of tomato in the ragu and the wacky purple pasta, I knew I had to take this dish on for myself.

Because oxtails need a lot of love and time to become tender, I like to make this sauce in the pressure cooker.  In addition, they tend to be fatty, so try to make the sauce the night before you serve it for simpler deglazing.  As for the pasta, the more that it cooks, the more purple it becomes.  Try fresh or dried pastas with different cooking times to see an array of lovely crimson shades.  And above all, make this meal for folks in need of a little wonder in their lives – from start to finish, this dish is really something magical.

Recipe for

Drunken Pasta with Blond Oxtail Ragu

Ingredients
3 lbs. of oxtails
3 oz. of pancetta
1 onion, minced
4 cloves of garlic, minced
3 carrot, finely chopped
3 stalks of celery, finely chopped
3 parsnips, finely chopped
2 tbs. of olive oil
1 c. of dry white wine
6 c. of beef stock
3 sprigs of fresh thyme, leaves removed
2 fresh bay leaves
kosher salt and black pepper to taste

2 bottles of red wine
2-3 tbs. of chopped parsley
2 tbs. of butter

Add two tablespoons of olive oil to a pressure cooker and heat on high.  Salt and pepper the oxtails and sear on all sides in the olive oil.  Remove and set aside.  Add the onions and pancetta to the pot and cook until onions are translucent.  Add the garlic, carrots, celery and parsnips and cook until fragrant.  Add the wine and cook until alcohol cooks off.  Add the beef stock, thyme and bay leaves and put on the pressure cooker lid.  Cook on high pressure for one hour.  Turn off the heat and let the pressure drop naturally.  Using a pair of tongs, remove all the oxtails and put in a plastic tupperware.  Drain the vegetables using a strainer, reserving the liquid in a second tupperware.  Add the vegetables to a third tupperware.  Refrigerate overnight.

Pour two bottles of red wine into a large pasta pot.  Fill the rest of the way with water and bring to a boil.  While the water heats up, begin by taking the meat off of the oxtails, saving the bones and fat for a homemade stock.  Skim the fat off the reserved liquid and either discard or save for the aforementioned homemade stock.  Put the stock into a saucepan and cook on high, allowing to reduce by half.  Add the oxtails and veggies to the pot and let the liquid continue to reduce.  Cook your pasta according to the package directions and then drain.  Toss the hot pasta with the two tablespoons with butter and top with the oxtail ragu.  Serve with chopped parsley and grated parmesan.

Tagliatelle with Porcini Mushrooms

Foodbuzz 24 x 24 | An Ode to Orvieto

This recipe was a part of a special menu for Foodbuzz’s June 2011 food blogger party, 24×24. Showcasing posts from 24 Foodbuzz Featured Publisher bloggers, the monthly Foodbuzz 24 highlights unique meals occurring around the globe during a 24-hour period. Read more about my meal along with all of the other recipes at An Ode to Orvieto.

No hyperbole employed, the first time that I ate this pasta, everything was illuminated.  My good buddy and a beautiful soul through and through, Lauren S., was a huge fan of this itty bitty restaurant in Orvieto called Mezza Luna.  While we all had our favorite lunch spots (mine was Al Pozzo Etrusco and their pappardelle con cinghiale), occasionally we’d branch out and hit up a friend’s spot of choice.  In a true moment of “when in Rome, do as the Romans do” I ordered the same as Lauren – a simple green salad dressed with olive oil and vinegar, a bottle of Orvieto Classico, and a plate of the tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms.  The dish emerged from the kitchen, delicately sauced with butter and wine, brightened by a bit of parsley and just swimming with an abundance of the earthy mushrooms.  It was ridiculously simple home cooking, begging the question as to whether could replicate this lunchtime joy back stateside.  It was destiny that I would at least try.

The beauty if this pasta is that to get it right, you keep your flavors delicate.  True to the region (and diametrically opposed to most recipes for wild mushroom pasta), the mushrooms aren’t overshadowed by garlic or red pepper.  Simply tagliatelle, mushrooms, wine and butter, with a little chicken stock to gloss the strands of pasta into a heavenly state.  The pasta should definitely be fresh, but use whatever cut you’d like.  A fettucine width works well, but if you have fresh linguini or angel hair, they’ll be perfectly fine as stand-ins.  Also, I used dried porcini to keep an earthy flavor and the ability to cook this dish all year round.  However, if you can get your hands on fresh porcini (or even royal trumpets or ivory portobellos), by all means use them.

Recipe for

Tagliatelle with Porcini Mushrooms

Ingredients
1.5 oz. of dried porcini mushrooms
2 1/2 c. of stock (chicken or vegetable)

2 lb. of fresh tagliatelle
1 tbs. of olive oil
1/4 c. of fresh parsley, chopped
1 c. of stock (chicken or vegetable)
1 c. of white wine
4 cloves of garlic
2 fresh bay leaves
1/4 c. of the porcini liquid
4 tbs. of butter

Begin by adding the mushrooms to the 2 1/2 cups of stock.  Bring to a boil and then turn off the heat.  Cover and let sit for 30 minutes.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil.  In a skillet, warm the olive oil over high heat.  Drain the mushrooms, reserving the soaking liquid, and add them to the olive oil, along with the whole garlic cloves and bay leaves.  Add the wine and allow to reduce by half.  Add the 1 c. of stock and reduce by half.  Add the porcini soaking liquid and allow to simmer on medium-low.  Cook your pasta until al dente (about 3 minutes) and drain.  Add pasta to the mushroom sauce and plunk in the butter, tossing the pasta to form a glossy sauce.  If the pasta is a bit dry, add some more of the porcini soaking liquid.  Top with the parsley and serve with grated locatelli.

Rosemary Chicken Florentine Pasta

Back when I was rocking plaid skirts and a blazer in high school (and even before that as a tagalong with my mom’s running club), we used to frequent a quirky eatery called Generous George’s Positive Pizza and Pasta Place.  Fake flamingos and pink and teal paint dripping with kitsch and childhood memorabilia everywhere, it looked a little like Miami Vice and Parker Brothers got together as an interior design firm.  And do I recall a shark hanging from the ceiling?  Or maybe a surf board?  It was probably both.

Aesthetics aside, the place was too fun.  The pizzas featured airy, pliant dough with mounds of toppings and cheese.  And the pastas, all served on a single-sized pizza crust, were epic sized portions that even my dad’s appetite could not slay.  People left the place with takeout boxes and close to a pound of pasta in leftovers.  My mom usually got the red or white clam, Dad loved Old Naples with crumbled sausage and melted cheese, and Lexi usually ordered a personal pizza and pretended to be full after a bite or two so that she could get away with ordering dessert.  I used to be a sucker for the Chicken Romano Fettucine, basically alfredo with chicken, ham, peas and mushrooms, until I ordered the Rosemary Chicken Florentine on a whim.  The first time made me a convert – farfalle tossed with tender chicken, spinach, bacon, roasted red peppers in a rosemary cream sauce.  It was ridiculous.  Preposterous.  I was hooked.

Years have gone by since I’ve rolled down Duke Street in Alexandria to see our old haunt, and it turns out that there’s only my memories of the place to serve me now.  My sister posted on Facebook that the location was demoed and is now a PNC Bank.  I wondered if they auctioned off the merry-go-round pony that was in the main dining room?  Anyways, rather than put on my old school uniform, I decided to relive a classic and make a heaping mess of the beloved pasta.  I cut back the fat on the sauce, using milk instead of cream, and I didn’t have a pizza crust to use as a plate.  But it was still ridiculous.  Still preposterous.  And apparently, I’m still hooked.

Recipe for

Rosemary Chicken Florentine Pasta

Ingredients
2 chicken breasts
1 sprig of fresh rosemary
2 c. of chicken stock
1 c. of white wine
1/2 tsp. of white pepper
1/2 tsp. of black pepper
1 tsp. of salt
1/4 tsp. of garlic powder
2 bay leaves

4 strips of bacon
4 cloves of garlic
6 oz. of roasted red peppers, sliced
6 oz. of baby spinach
1 tbs. of olive oil
1 tbs. of chopped rosemary leaves
1 lb. of dried pasta cuts (farfalle, conchiglie, ziti, penne)

6 tbs. of butter
3 tbs. of flour
2 1/2 c. of whole milk
1 c. of locatelli
1/2 tsp. of black pepper
pinch of white pepper
pinch of nutmeg
1/4 tsp. of garlic powder

Begin by cooking the chicken.  Add two boneless, skinless chicken breasts to a saucepan with the stock, wine, rosemary sprigs, bay leaves, 1/2 tsp. of white pepper, 1/2 tsp. of black pepper, 2 tsp. of salt and 1/4 tsp. of garlic powder.  Bring to a boil and then turn off the heat.  Cover and let sit for 15 minutes.  Remove chicken from poaching liquid and let cool slightly.  Shred with two forks.  Set aside.

Now make the sauce.  Melt the butter in a saucepan over low heat.  Whisk in the flour, white pepper, black pepper, garlic powder and nutmeg.  Add the milk, whisking the entire time to prevent lumps.  Turn the heat to medium and whisk until thickened.  Stir in the locatelli and remove from the heat.  Stir in the roasted red peppers.  Set aside.

Bring a large pot of heavily salted water to a boil.  Cook pasta according to box directions.  While the water comes to a boil, add bacon to a skillet and brown.  Toss in garlic, rosemary, spinach and the olive oil and cook until spinach is wilted.  Season with a little extra salt and black pepper and set aside.

When the pasta finishes, drain and toss with the red pepper cream sauce, spinach/chicken/garlic/rosemary mixture.  Top with extra grated locatelli and serve hot.

Spaghetti all’Amatriciana

I have such great memories of amatriciana sauce in Italy – friends and I used to frequent a mom and pop pizzeria in the town we lived in as one of our favorite haunts.  The husband waitered, the wife cooked and the son bused the tables out of a front shop with an adjoining apartment behind the kitchen, making you feel a cherished guest at a friend’s house rather than a customer.  We typically went for piping hot pizzettas with pliant blistered crusts, tart tomatoes and creamy buffalo mozzarella.  One evening, I came home from class feeling exhausted and weighted down by a horrible headache.  My friends were running over to the restaurant and asked if I’d like something.  I asked them to bring me back some Pasta all’Amatriciana – a mouthful to pronounce but ever so delicious.  When they brought me my food, they brought me real silverware to eat with.  The mom was sure that we’d be back to return them, making us feel all the more like family.

Their classic version featured delicious guanciale, basically the jowl of the pig cured into bacon, but I like to use thick cut bacon for everyday amatriciana.  You can also use pancetta, with the rendered fat from the bacon allowing the onions to mellow into sweetness.  The whole thing is bound together by a tomato sauce of rich San Marzano tomatoes and white wine.  It’s a glorious sauce, and takes about as long to prepare as it does to boil a pot of pasta.  Good stuff considering that sometimes you don’t want to wait until the weekend (or a trip to Italy) to indulge in a meal fit for a king.

Recipe for

Spaghetti all’Amatriciana

Ingredients
5 slices of thick bacon, sliced into slivers
1/2 an onion, finely chopped
1/2 c. of wine
3 cloves of garlic
pinch of black pepper
pinch of crushed red pepper
4 c. of fresh tomato sauce
1/4 c. of grated locatelli
salt to taste
1 lb. of spaghetti
4 tbs. of freshly chopped parsley

Bring a pot of heavily salted water to a boil.  While the water heats up, warm the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat.  Add the bacon and cook until crisp.  Add the onions to the pan and cook until very soft and golden.  Add the wine, scraping up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan.  Cook until the wine reduces by half.  Add the garlic and cook until fragrant.  Season with the black pepper and crushed red pepper.  Pour in the tomato sauce and bring to a simmer.  Stir in the grated cheese and taste for salt.

Cook the pasta according to the package directions.  Drain and add the sauce.  Top with the chopped parsley and additional grated cheese and crushed red pepper.

Orecchiette with Arugula Pesto

I totally believe that arugula is an aphrodisiac as thought in the Roman times, solely based on the fact that I am head over heels in love with it.  The nutty, peppery flavor of the greens, and its ability to work as a crisp salad green or sauteed and cooked to luscious perfection – versatility makes me crush hard core, and baby, arugula has my heart.  When used as a replacement for basil in a quick pesto, you get to see arugula truly shine – just barely cooked by the hot pasta, it goes from bitter to complex and rounded in flavor.  It’s miraculous and ever so sexy.

I use the pesto to dress dainty orecchiette, petal-shaped pasta from the south of Italy.  Named “little ears” in Italian, each bit of pasta is made from a mini fingerprint into a press, forming a crinkly texture that soaks up the pesto.  It’s all about the love with a uniting of Northern Italian sauce (pesto is from Genoa) with Southern Italian pasta (orecchiette are from Puglia).  And I could just be mentioning love because the arugula is wooing me to do so.  Woo away, arugula.  Woo away.

Recipe for

Orecchiette with Arugula Pesto

Ingredients
1 lb. of orecchiette
4 loose cups of arugula
3 cloves of garlic
1/2 c. of olive oil
1/2 c. of grated locatelli (or parmigiano reggiano)
1/4 c. of toasted pine nuts
2 tsp. of freshly cracked pepper
1 tsp. of salt

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil.  Cook pasta according to package directions.

While the pasta cooks, make the pesto.  Throw cloves of garlic into the CuisineArt and pulse until finely chopped. Add toasted pine nuts and pulse again. Next, add the arugula (stems and all) and chop until the mixture starts to form a paste. Coax the entire mixture into a smooth paste by slowly streaming in olive oil – stop once everything is blended and evenly chopped. Add the grated cheese, salt and pepper and pulse to mix. Taste for salt.

Once pasta is finished, scoop a scant 1/4 cup of pasta water out of the pot.  Drain the pasta and immediately toss with the pesto.  Dribble in a bit of the pasta water, if necessary, to form a sauce.  Top with extra grated cheese and serve.

Pasta with Camembert, Asparagus and Peas

You should be ashamed of yourself.  I saw you eyeing the pasta on that Olive Garden commercial with hungry eyes.  You know it’s not delicious.  You know it wasn’t actually created in a Tuscan cooking school with Michelin star winning chefs.  Most importantly, you know you can’t trust any place that thinks variety in ingredients is a simple choice between chicken in cream sauce or sausage in tomato cream sauce.  For shame, OG, for shame! Continue reading Pasta with Camembert, Asparagus and Peas