Pasta Primavera with Asparagus and Poached Egg, Locavore Style

photo by Josh Monken for Sauce

Simple Springtime Feast

I'm all about eating local now that our farmer's markets are open for business and offering freshly picked spring vegetables like radishes and asparagus.

And I'll find just about any excuse to eat fresh pasta, especially when the entire dish features ingredients that I've sourced locavore-style. I have a thing for oozy poached eggs, and using them as a topper for pastas and salads provides little extra protein and brilliant orange color.

I wrote a feature about this recipe which appears in the May, 2008 issue Sauce Magazine, which I had posted recently but have removed for copyright reasons - instead, you can read the full story on the Sauce website.

photo by Josh Monken for Sauce

Fettuccine Primavera with Goat Cheese, Crisp Prosciutto and Poached Egg

4 thin slices prosciutto
4 ounces fresh goat cheese, softened at room temperature
2 tablespoons heavy cream
¼ cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
Finely grated zest and juice from half a lemon
Fine sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 bunch asparagus, stems trimmed and sliced into 2-inch pieces
9 ounces fresh fettuccine or tagliatelle pasta
4 soft-poached quail eggs*


1. Arrange the prosciutto on a small baking sheet and roast in a 400-degree oven for about 10 minutes, or until crisp. Cool slightly and break into pieces. (prepare up to one day ahead - keep in a covered container at room temperature)

2. Crumble the goat cheese into a large mixing bowl. Add the cream, Parmigiano-Reggiano, lemon zest, juice, salt and pepper to taste and stir until smooth.

3. Bring 5 quarts water to a boil in a large saucepan and add 1 tablespoon salt. Drop in asparagus and cook until bright green and tender, about 3 minutes. Remove asparagus with a slotted spoon and add to the goat cheese mixture. Add pasta to the pan and cook 1 - 2 minutes, or according to directions. Scoop out a ladleful of pasta water (about 1/3 cup) and pour it into the goat cheese mixture, stirring to melt cheese and make a smooth sauce. Drain pasta and toss with the goat cheese until evenly coated with sauce.

4. Divide pasta between two serving bowls. Top with poached eggs and sprinkle with prosciutto.

Serves 2

* To poach eggs, bring a small skillet full of water to a simmer. Add a tablespoon of plain white vinegar. Crack eggs into the pan; keeping heat at a steady simmer (not boiling), cook eggs until whites are firm and yolks are just set, about 2 minutes for quail eggs and 4 minutes for chicken eggs. Remove with a slotted spoon.

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Homemade Rosemary Potato Gnocchi

Leave the gun, take the gnocchi

We have just a few traditions in our house that we abide by with comforting regularity, and one of them is spending the holidays during the last few weeks of the year with my sister-in-law L, otherwise known as YaYa, and her husband S, The Old Man.

Because they teach at a university, they have the benefit of a long vacation break between semesters. Because we have a few children, we make them fly out of Logan Airport at holiday time to visit us. It’s a win-win situation, really.

When I tell people that we have relatives moving in for a few weeks over the holidays, they usually groan in sympathy. I know they’re probably imagining a scene out of a John Candy movie, where crazy Uncle Jack overstays his visit, starts drinking beer at lunch, terrorizes the children and stops up the toilet.

While we definitely start drinking lots more alcohol and we have actually called upon the services of Roto Rooter at least once this past month, to say that we look forward to the visit is putting it mildly. We live for it.

Who wouldn’t? For us, it’s all about celebrating and feasting; for two whole weeks we feel like we’re on vacation. By unplugging ourselves from our usual routine we can really get into the spirit of things. We cook together just about every night. We make multiple trips to the wine store to restock, and depending on our mood, stay up too late listening to music, talking or playing our favorite obscure board game, Who Killed Dr. Lucky.

We manage to keep up a fun spirit of camaraderie in the kitchen; everyone gravitates toward a job, depending on the menu. T and The Old Man team up for things like crabcakes and their famous pumpkin ravioli, while YaYa is mistress of salads and table setting. She also helps me plan our list of menus, because somebody needs to be in charge.

Although, this year, because I just finished reading Phoebe Damrosch’s book Service Included, we took to calling each other “chef” – with the just the right tone of irony, of course – because Thomas Keller runs his kitchen with a sense of democracy, that’s how all the employees at Per Se are instructed to communicate, apparently.

This was our Year of the Gnocchi. We used a recipe from chef Charlie Palmer’s cool waterproof book, the Practical Guide to the New American Kitchen. We all agreed that these were as light, tasty and fluffy as potato dumplings could be. I think that baking the potatoes (rather than boiling them) makes for lighter gnocchi; they don't absorb all that water and can just merge gracefully with the flour and egg.

The lost art of gnocchi rolling

If you don't have a neat ridged gnocchi board, you can use a fork to make distinctive grooves in each dumpling. However, you will miss out on the pleasure of feeling just like an Italian mama.

Potato Rosemary Gnocchi

Serves 6, generously
Adapted from a recipe by Charlie Palmer

3 large baking potatoes, about 2 pounds total
2 egg yolks
2 – 3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon fine sea salt
1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary
3 tablespoons olive oil (if sauteeing)

Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Poke the potatoes a few times with a fork and place directly on the oven rack. Bake 25 –30 minutes, until fork-tender. When the potatoes are cool enough to handle, remove the skins and push them through a food mill or ricer into a large bowl.

Add the salt and egg yolk, and 2 cups of flour and mix together. Turn the mixture out onto a floured surface and knead, adding more flour if needed, until a soft (but not sticky), smooth dough forms.

Divide the dough into portions the size of your hand, and roll each into a rope about 1/2-inch thick. Cut into 1-inch lengths. If you’re inclined, roll each gnocchi firmly over a gnocchi board or the concave side of a fork. Arrange the gnocchi on a floured baking sheet as you go.

Bring a large stockpot of water to a boil; drop the gnocchi in batches into the water and boil until they bob to the surface, about 3 minutes.

At this point, you can sauce them up as you please, or lay them out on a tray and freeze them (transfer them to zippered bags when they’re solid) so that you have an emergency late-night gnocchi stash on hand .
If you want to sauté the gnocchi, set up an ice bath with a colander set into a large bowl of ice water. Remove the gnocchi from the boiling water with a slotted spoon and immediately drop them into the colander. Drain and toss with the olive oil.

Just before serving, sauté the gnocchi in melted butter, garlic and some spinach or dandelion greens. Pass the grated Parmesan.

Gnocchi getting a toss in the pan

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Crisp, Crunchy Prosciutto: Better than Bacon

Roast sliced prosciutto for a crispy treat

Two questions for a mom/food blogger/personal chef/recipe writer/household planner having one of those weeks that are making her very tired:

Question: What is the one thing you toss into your cart each and every time you shop at Costco.
Answer: One pound packages of sliced prosciutto.

Question: And why is that?
Answer: Because when there's nothing much in the house to cook, we can always munch on oven-roasted prosciutto. This stuff might be better than bacon-flavored potato chips.

Question: Just one more question - how do you make it?
Answer: Just have a look at the easy recipe below. I'm going to have a little nap now.

Crisp Oven-Roasted Prosciutto

12 slices prosciutto
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Olive oil

Arrange the prosciutto on a large rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with a little salt and pepper. Roast in a 400-degree oven 12-15 minutes (keep you eye on it - it browns quickly) until crisp. Cool.

Crumble over pasta, eggs, mashed potatoes or sandwiches. Or just eat it plain, right out of a bowl.

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Back to the Future: Wolfgang Puck Pasta

California-Style Pasta with Thyme and Goat Cheese

Way back in the ‘80’s my favorite meal was a roast beef sandwich on a toasted “bulky” roll, which in parts of the world other than Rhode Island would be known as a Kaiser, smothered with mushrooms, piled high with salty meat and so juicy the bulky would be saturated and falling to pieces after just two bites. I’d get them at Chelo’s, a chain of local restaurants.

I’m dating myself here, but that was a quarter of a century ago. I was in high school, my hair was big, and if you’d offered me a pizza with goat cheese on it I know I would’ve looked at you funny.

At the same time, Wolfgang Puck was in Hollywood creating California cuisine - pulling pizzas out of wood-burning ovens and serving salads as entrees at his legendary restaurant Spago.

Look how we’ve grown up! I now love goat cheese, Wolfgang Puck has become as much a brand name as Chef Boyardee, and you can walk into your local mini-mart, grab a frozen Wolfgang Puck pizza, microwave it and eat it in the car (I’m not saying that’s a good thing).

The August issue of Food & Wine has a feature story about Puck, which got me interested in this recipe. Apparently, this was the first pasta dish on the menu at Spago and put goat cheese on America’s culinary map.

I haven’t had a roast beef sandwich in years, but I did have a look at the 2007 Chelo’s menu – the sandwich is still there - along with Asian grilled salmon on California mesclun greens.

Capellini with Goat Cheese, Thyme and Toasted Pine Nuts

Inspired by Wolfgang Puck

12 ounces dried capellini pasta
1 cup chicken or vegetable broth
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
4 tablespoons unsalted butter
4 ounces soft goat cheese
2 tablespoons toasted pine nuts
Thyme sprigs, for garnish


Cook the capellini in a large pot of boiling salted water.

Meanwhile, bring the broth to a boil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the thyme and simmer until reduced by half. Lower heat, stir in the butter and goat cheese until melted and smooth.

Drain the capellini and add to the skillet, tossing to coat with sauce.

Twirl the capellini into portions with a large serving fork or tongs and place on individual plates. Sprinkle with pine nuts and garnish with thyme, if you like.

Serves 4-6.



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Market Dinner: Fettuccine with Baby Artichokes and Wild Mushrooms

Yesterday was one of those days when I'm glad that I tend to overstock the pantry with dried pasta (among other things), because I was able to throw together this simple dinner using my Portland produce. I found a bag of wild mushroom fettuccine hiding behind the Barilla spaghetti in my cupboard - lucky me.

I'd never had the opportunity to taste a fresh porcini mushroom. I use the dried ones frequently, though. They're readily available and are pretty strongly flavored - a little goes a long way in soups or sauces. One of my cooking contest friends even used dried porcini "dust" in a prize-winning recipe at the National Beef Cookoff last year.

I 'd assumed that you had to go Italy or France to find fresh porcini, also known as Boletus edulis (and as "cepes"in French). So I just about fell over when I saw them on the menu in a pasta dish at a little neighborhood restaurant, Alba Osteria, on our first night in Portland. Since Fresh and Local is the mantra there, I was on the lookout for these plump fungi at the market, and sure enough, a wise old forager had a nice selection of them on display at his booth at the Farmer's Market.

According to him, the mushrooms should be cut in half to ensure there aren't any critters living inside, and stored in a paper bag in a cool place. I bought one to take home, and it arrived in fine shape. It was only just starting to break a sweat after 8 hours of traveling in my tote bag.

I trimmed the base and most of the leaves off the artichokes (and actually, I could have trimmed off even more - don't be shy at this step), leaving just a tight, light green ball, and sliced them in half. They were pretty tiny. I cut the mushroom into thick slices, and admired the soft, pure white flesh inside (critter free, thankfully). I braised the artichokes for about 10 minutes in lemon juice, olive oil, fresh garlic and a scoop of pasta water from the fettuccine before adding the mushrooms. They soaked up the liquid like little sponges, and tasted delicious, with a creamy texture and a milder flavor compared to the dried version.

Thanks to the efforts of Alanna at A Veggie Venture, this recipe will be sponsored by this cute little sweet tomato. You can get your own here.
Or better yet, go out and visit your local farmer's market!

Fettuccine with Baby Artichokes and Wild Mushrooms
serves 4

12 ounces mushroom flavored fettuccine (plain would be just fine)
1/2 pound baby artichokes, bases and tops trimmed off and outer leaves removed down to the pale green part, sliced in half
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 large fresh porcini mushroom, cut into 1/2-wide slices, or 1/4 ounce dried porcini soaked in warm water 15 minutes and drained
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Fresh Italian parsley
Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, for grating at the table

Bring a 6-8 quart pot of water to a boil and salt generously - about 2 tablespoons kosher salt.

Place the artichokes in a medium skillet with the olive oil, lemon juice, garlic and 1/4 cup water or broth. Cover and place over medium-high heat. Cook until tender when pierced with a fork, 10-15 minutes, adding some of the boiling water if the pan begins to dry. Toss in the mushrooms and cook, uncovered, until tender. Season with salt and pepper and stir in the parsley.

Add the pasta to the pot and cook until al dente. Drain and toss with the sauce in a warmed serving bowl. You could add a large knob of butter at this point, too, if you're so inclined. Pass the Parmigiano at the table.

Serve with an Oregon Pinor Noir if you're looking for a perfect pairing.



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601 Cookbooks

Spring Greens

Question of the day: Which of your cookbooks is your absolute most favorite, page-worn and splattered from use?

People who collect cookbooks seem to enjoy counting their spoils. Since I’ve been collecting cookbooks for more than 20 years now, the other day I thought I’d count them (it must have been a very quiet day). I counted the books in the kitchen, strewn around on tables and floors, and in the dining and living rooms. I got up to 320. I didn’t venture down into the basement, where I know I have at least that many, and probably more, nor did I figure in the stack that lives next to my bed. After all that counting, I decided it would be much more useful if I’d spent my five minutes of free time cataloging my cookbooks.

This is what J would say, and for once I agree: Counting is so boring.

Admittedly, I don’t use every single one of my cookbooks. Sometimes they sit on the shelves for years before I notice them. And, every once in a while I actually have to let some go to good causes, to make room for new ones.

Out of the 600-plus cookbooks I own, I’d estimate I use or look at the same two dozen or so over and over again. One of them is Nigella Lawson’s How to Eat. I have all of her other books, but this is her best, in my opinion. It doesn’t have any photographs or illustrations at all – none of those money shots of Nigella licking chocolate off a spoon – just lots of personal writing and recipes.

My copy is paperback, and pages are falling out even after I’ve taped and glued them back in. The book falls open to one of my very favorite recipes, Lemon Linguine on page 230.

I’ve made many versions of this recipe, but my current version, with crème fraiche and lots of fresh vegetables, seems so Spring-y.

Pasta Shells with Green Vegetables and Lemon Cream
Serves 4

1 cup each trimmed asparagus, green beans and broccoli, cut into bite-size pieces
1 pound dried pasta shells (conchiglie)
2 egg yolks
1/2 cup crème fraiche
Zest and juice of 1 large lemon
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
Freshly ground black pepper
4 tablespoons unsalted butter (try using a premium brand like Plugra for this – it’s worth it)

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Throw in a good handful of salt. Add the vegetables and cook 3 minutes; scoop them out with a slotted spoon and plunge into a bowl of ice water. Drain.

Add the pasta and cook until al dente.

While the pasta is cooking, find your biggest serving bowl. In the bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, crème fraiche, lemon zest and juice, cheese, salt and pepper. Just before draining the pasta, scoop out about 1/2 cup of the cooking water and add to the egg yolk mixture, whisking.

Drain pasta; add to the bowl with the vegetables and butter, tossing gently to coat with sauce.




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Quick and Rustic Pappardelle

Whole Wheat Pappardelle with Creamy Sundried Tomato Sauce and Toasted Walnuts

I had a rare afternoon off the other day - lunch with a friend and then a quick pit stop at Soulard Market - the oldest farmer's market in the country west of the Mississippi.

I went in search of fresh farm-raised rabbit, which I'll be cooking up tonight. (I know, what is it with me and little farm animals?)

While strolling the aisles, I found the stand of Pappardelle's Pasta, an artisanal pasta company from Denver. They had an eye-catching display of dried pasta shapes in all colors and sizes, but I restrained myself to trying just one flavor, toasted-onion whole wheat pappardelle. The noodles cooked up beautifully - not too mushy or starchy. I'm already planning another trip to try some other flavors.

Pappardelle with Creamy Sundried Tomato Sauce and Toasted Walnuts
makes 2 entrees or 4 side dishes

1 small onion, finely chopped
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 cup oil-packed sundried tomatoes, drained and finely chopped (I use my mini food processor for this), or prepared sundried tomato pesto
4 ounces soft goat cheese
1/2 cup chicken broth or water
Salt and fresh ground black pepper
8 ounces dried pappardelle
Italian parsley leaves
1/4 cup toasted walnuts, coarsely chopped

In a large deep pan over medium heat, saute the onion in the oil with a pinch of salt until softened. Add the tomatoes and cook about 3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the goat cheese and broth and simmer until cheese is melted into the sauce. Keep warm.

Cook the pappardelle in a large pot of boiling, salted water until al dente, about 6 minutes depending on the brand. Reserve 1/2 cup cooking water before draining.

Combine the pasta and parsley with the sauce, tossing gently. Add pasta water as needed to thin as desired. Serve sprinkled with walnuts.


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Copyright (c) 2007 FamilyStyle Food

Spring in St. Louis

My dogwood tree in bloom

After days of pristine spring weather - it was 80 degrees yesterday - today was blustery with thunderstorms and the cold front moving through will drop the temperature down to the thirities - nippy. The first baseball and softball practices of the season were called off and I didn't get to the grocery store.

That makes tonight perfect for carbonara! I won't hear any complaints, and that's always a good thing.

Copyright (c) 2007 FamilyStyle Food

Rigatoni with 20-Minute Sunday Gravy

Family Dinner

When I was a kid, Sunday afternoon meant dinner at Mama's, my paternal grandmother. We'd all pile into the family Buick and my dad would drive the short distance to her house.

I knew what to expect, and looked forward to it. Mama had been up since the crack of dawn preparing her gravy; the dark, rich tomato sauce that embellished giant bowls of macaroni (which refers to any type of dried pasta) and platters of tender braised beef, meatballs and homemade sausages.

My many cousins would already be there, tearing through the tiny house, doing their best to aim a football at Mama's collection of Hummel figurines. I'd find Papa, my grandfather, sitting at the kitchen table drinking a beer with a raw egg floating on top, chain-smoking Lucky Strikes.

Soon, a steady stream of people would file into the kitchen; aunts, uncles, cousins twice-removed. Mama would put some homemade red wine on the table, along with a saucer of olive oil seasoned with salt, pepper and fennel seed for dipping crunchy, cold celery hearts.

Papa's job was to break pounds of long hollow noodles into ziti-sized pieces while Mama brought a huge stockpot of water to a boil.

Now when my own kids come running into the kitchen asking when their food will be ready, I can remember how impatient I was for the pasta to cook. I was hungry! Why did the grown-ups seem to spend so much time yelling, smoking and drinking?

Mama never once sat down, not even when finally, the steaming pasta was set on the table. I made sure to find a spot on my father's lap, because Mama's table wasn't big enough for all of us to sit down at once, and it was first come, first served.

Since I don't have or care to spend an entire day preparing pasta sauce, I've come up with my own interpretation of Mama's gravy. She'd probably think it sacrilege, but it's my way of conjuring up a taste of those Sunday afternoons.

20-minute Sunday gravy
for one pound of pasta

4 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, thinly sliced
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon ground fennel seed
1/3 cup red wine
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 28-ounce can plum tomatoes, preferably San Marzano
1/2 cup fresh basil or Italian parsley
1/2 pound ground beef, turkey, or pork( to make this vegetarian-friendly, substitute crumbled soy protein such as Morningstar Farms )
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese


Heat 3 tablespoons olive oil in a large, deep skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and fennel and cook, stirring, until softened but not browned, about 3 minutes. Pour in the wine and bring to a boil. Cook until the wine is reduced to a syrupy glaze, then add the tomato paste, tomatoes and basil or parsley. Season generously with salt and freshly ground black pepper; cover and simmer 15 minutes.

In a large nonstick skillet, heat the remaining tablespoon oil until shimmering. Add the ground beef; cook, breaking up with a spoon, until done.

Puree sauce with an immersion blender until semi-smooth. Stir in cooked beef and serve over hot rigatoni pasta. Pass the cheese grater at the table.

Copyright (c) 2007 FamilyStyle Food

Tuscan Pasta and Beans

Pasta Fagioli

This past month, I’ve been checking in with Alanna over at Veggie Venture - she’s been on a soup binge.

I don’t make soup enough, but when I do, the first thing I think of is pasta fagioli, which my mother would often make on meat-free Fridays. I’m a bean-eater any day of the week, and really savor the creamy, filling quality of cannellini beans, especially when paired with pasta.

My version is not much like my mom’s however. Her recipe was the more quick and convenient one, employing canned beans, dried Italian seasoning and lots of watered down tomato sauce.

I know I enjoyed it as a kid, but now I prefer a thicker, heartier soup. I go all out and use dried beans. The texture and flavor is a lot better than canned beans, although I will use them in a pinch.

This time, I also added a prosciutto butt that I picked up at my local Italian market. It’s inexpensive and adds lots of flavor to the beans.

Tuscan-Style Pasta and Bean Soup (Pasta Fagioli)

Makes at least 6 servings

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 finely chopped onion
3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh rosemary
4 cups cooked cannellini beans * or 2 15-ounce cans, drained
1 15-ounce can crushed tomatoes, or 2 cups fresh tomatoes, peeled ** and chopped
1 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
4-6 cups chicken broth or water
Salt and fresh ground black pepper
2 cups small, short pasta, such as ditali
Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese for serving


Heat oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic and rosemary to the pot and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Scoop out and transfer to a food processor along with 1 cup of beans. Puree until smooth.

Return bean mixture to the pot along with the remaining beans, tomatoes, red pepper and 4 cups broth. Season well with salt and pepper. Bring to a simmer; add the pasta and simmer until al dente. Add more broth to the soup to thin as desired- the pasta will continue to absorb liquid, and it does thicken up a bit. I kind of like it that way.

Serve soup topped with Parmigiano curls shaved with a vegetable peeler.

* To cook dried beans, soak in water to cover 2-6 hours or overnight. Drain, place in a pot with fresh water to cover and a bay leaf. Toss in a ham hock or prosciutto butt if you have one. Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and simmer until the beans are swelled and softened. This should take 1-2 hours.
** To peel a fresh tomato, score an “X” on the bottom and drop in boiling water for 30 seconds. Remove, cool under cold running water and slip off the skin.

Copyright (c) 2007 FamilyStyle Food

Spaghetti with Arugula and Pecorino: Friday Night Home Date

Red Chili Pepper Spaghetti with Arugula and Pecorino Romano

Tonight we’re dining on pure comfort food.

I think I would eat pasta of some kind every single day if I didn’t have any regard for culinary diversity. In fact, I’m pretty sure that when I was young, single, and living in my first apartment, pasta was my daily sustenance. All I needed was a cheap aluminum stockpot from the hardware store, some olive oil, and fresh gratings from the hunk of hard cheese - Parmigiano-Reggiano, Pecorino Romano, or Asiago - that I always had in the fridge.

I’m sure it comes from growing up in an Italian-American family, and being spoon-fed pastina with milk and butter when I was a baby.

Now that I’m grown up and far away from the place I came from, pasta is the only food I crave when I’m sick, or traveling, or just plain tired.

In other words, perfect for a late night Friday dinner. The kids will be in bed, so we’ll sit by the fire with a bottle of wine and big bowls of this spaghetti.

Chili Pepper Spaghetti with Arugula and Pecorino Romano

Serves two tired, hungry people, with a little leftover for snacking

12 ounces imported Italian spaghetti
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 fresh red chili pepper, seeds intact if you like it hot, sliced into thin rings
1/4 cup finely chopped red onion
2 plump garlic cloves, finely chopped
4 cups prewashed baby arugula
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese, to taste


Bring a big pot of generously salted water to a boil. Put the spaghetti in the water and cook until just tender, but firm in the center - al dente.

Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a medium skillet over moderately low heat. Add the chili and onion and cook until slightly golden brown. Stir in the garlic and cook a few minutes, until fragrant, but be sure not to brown it. Add the arugula and toss gently. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Toss the drained spaghetti with the olive oil mixture; the arugula will wilt. Serve in large shallow bowls topped with some cheese.

Copyright (c) 2007 FamilyStyle

Out of the Pumpkin Patch, Into the Kitchen

Slain Pumpkin

This fall, I picked up some gorgeous, locally grown heirloom pumpkins at my local farmer’s market. They’ve been nicely behaved, considering how thick-skinned they are. I placed them artfully on a little stepstool in a corner of my living room, told them to “STAY!”, and they’ve been sitting there obediently for months now, never once moving a warty stem or making a sound. Thank you pumpkins, for being dear, quiet little companions.

But now, they’ve reached old age. I detect liver spots, soft muscle tone and a tiny bit of leakage from their bottoms (poor things, it happens to all of us, I’m afraid). Off to the chopping block they must go! But don’t feel bad for them. Not everything gets the chance to be reborn as a tasty ravioli stuffing.



T made fresh pasta dough (I know! That’s why I married him), along with The Old Man (my brother-in-law), and I hacked a pumpkin open with a one-two combo of meat cleaver and rubber mallet. Try it, it doesn’t require too much strength, and feels very satisfying.

I roasted the pumpkin for about 35 minutes at 400 degrees, spooned out the pulp, and mixed in the seasonings. You can make this whole recipe very easily by roasting a butternut squash instead, (or use -gasp!- canned pumpkin), and using wonton wrappers, which are readily available at the grocery store, or ready-made pasta dough from your local Italian market.




This is one of my favorite things to eat on the planet.

Pumpkin Ravioli with Parmesan and Sage Butter

makes 2 dozen
1 cup roasted pumpkin puree, or canned pumpkin
1/4 cup mascarpone cheese or softened butter
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme
Salt and fresh ground black pepper
1 package wonton wrappers (24 wrappers)
1 stick butter
1/2 cup fresh sage leaves

Mash together the pumpkin, mascarpone, Parmesan, thyme and a generous seasoning of salt and pepper.
Spoon about 1 teaspoon of the pumpkin mixture on 12 of the wonton wrappers. Lightly brush the edges with egg white, and top with the remaining wrappers, pressing the edges to seal. You can also use a ravioli crimper-cutter, if you find one in your gadget drawer.
Fill your biggest pot with water, add a large pinch of salt and bring to a boil. Drop in the ravioli, about 6 at a time, and cook until they are floating and tender, about 4 minutes. Drain and keep warm.
Melt the stick of butter over medium-high heat until bubbling subsides. Throw in the sage leaves and cook for 1 minute. Pour the butter sauce over the ravioli, and serve with additional Parmesan cheese at the table.

Basic Pasta Dough
Adapted from Mario Batali’s Babbo Cookbook

3 1/2 to 4 cups all-purpose flour
4 eggs
1/2 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil

Place the flour in a very large bowl or mound on a work surface. Make a well in the middle of the flour; add the eggs and olive oil. Using a fork, beat together the eggs and oil, then begin to incorporate the inner rim of the well of flour.
Gradually add more and more flour to the eggs until a dough comes together.
Start kneading the dough with the heels of your hands. When you have a cohesive mass, scrape up and discard any leftover bits. Lightly flour your work surface, and knead the dough for a few minutes, until it’s soft, smooth and slightly sticky. Cover with plastic wrap and set aside for 30 minutes before rolling out in a pasta maker.

Copyright (c) 2007 FamilyStyle Food

Pinnacle of Pasta

Our house special

What kind of family-style food chronicle would this be if I didn’t tell you all about our relationship with Pasta Carbonara, our favorite family supper?

Well, Carbonara, as we affectionately refer to it, is probably the one and only meal I prepare that provokes J to shout for joy, that is, other than bacon. But Carbonara has lots of bacon in it, along with eggs and cheese, so there you go.

You see, every night, as the sun makes its swift departure behind the neighbor's roof, J drops his light saber and comes nosing around me as I get pans moving around in the kitchen.

"What's for dinner?"

If, as happens 6 out of every 7 days, I answer (in my best Mrs. Cleaver voice):
"Why, all your favorites, Dear; chicken with kung-fu sauce, scrambled eggs with pickles on top, and a great big pile of French fries".

"Oh, boy, Mom, thanks!" (gives me a big bear hug, and skips off to wash his hands).

HA! No, sillies, that's not what happens.

Basically if the menu consists of anything other than Carbonara, he falls on the floor in a raging, apoplectic fit. Kind of like Jake La Motta during the steak scene in Raging Bull, except he doesn't actually throw any food at my head. (and that would merit a time-out, for sure).

I have to admit, that Carbonara is also one of my all-time favorite comfort foods. My husband holds the title of Official Maker of the Carbonara, but lately, I've tinkered with the tried-and-true recipe (because that's what I do), and now have made it even more comfortable and delicious.

Pasta Carbonara alla FamilyStyle

For 4 generous servings

4 ounces applewood smoked peppered bacon * (see note)
4 ounces thinly sliced prosciutto
1 pound of your favorite dried uncooked pasta, but make an effort to use the imported Italian stuff
1/2 bag frozen baby peas (optional, but makes this seem more like a "one dish" meal)
1 small onion, diced very fine (about 1/2 cup)**
4 eggs, lightly beaten in a small bowl
1/4 cup each freshly grated Pecorino Romano and Parmigiano-Reggiano (plus more if you're like me - a cheese piggy)
Chopped Italian parsley


Fill your biggest pot with water, throw in a good handful of salt - pasta cooking water should be as salty as the sea - and bring to a boil.

Meanwhile, slice the bacon and prosciutto into roughly 1-inch pieces. Put the bacon in a large skillet over medium-low heat, stirring every few minutes, until it starts to render its fat. Keep cooking until it begins to crisp and turn brown on the edges. Toss in the prosciutto, and cook for a few minutes to crisp, too. Remove the whole lot from the pan with a slotted spoon, and place on a paper-towel lined plate.

Your water should be boiling about now; put the pasta in to cook. Halfway through, add the frozen peas.

Cook the onion in the hot bacon fat until it softens, about 5 minutes. Scoop out about 1/4 cup of the boiling pasta water and whisk into the eggs - this will help prevent scrambling the eggs when you toss it all together.

Drain the pasta and peas and add to the skillet with the onion. Pour on the eggs, tossing to coat. Add the reserved bacon and prosciutto. Serve hot topped with the cheese and some parsley.

* I like to use very, very good bacon, like Nueske's. Another brand I like is Wellshire Farms.
** The onion could potentially be a big "ick" factor. My kids don't even know it's in there, because it's finely chopped, and it melts into the sauce. I think it adds a nice layer of flavor.

Copyright (c) 2006 FamilyStyle

Pantry Essential: Slow Roasted Tomatoes

Roasted Tomato Story

Once upon a time, I took some baby tomatoes by the name of Campari home from my local mega-warehouse store. The tomatoes were small, but the container they sat in was not. I'd say they weighed somewhere in the 5-pound range.

Now, there are happy families out there who would've been pleased to slice those little babies into their giant family reunion buffet salad, perch them atop their backyard burgers, or throw them in the blender for a Sunday afternoon Bloody Mary bash.

But what I did is, I let them sit prettily in a basket on my countertop. I admired them for days and days, until they began to go all soft and stinky. And there might have been some minuscule, fluffy white mold spores forming on their smooth surface, like tiny snowflakes on Scarlett Johansson's big red lips.

But, then I had a burst of inspiration - By gum, I would roast those ripe-going-on-compost tomatoes! I would save them from a raw and graphic ending in the InSinkErator and allow them to achieve their final glory: a warm, slow demise in my 275 degree oven!

And so dear readers, that is what I did. First I showered them briefly with salt and pepper, and lubed them with some olive oil. Two hours later, my kitchen smelled like my Italian grandma's would on a Sunday afternoon, and there is something about that aroma that makes my mouth water.

Having a container of these tomatoes in your fridge can transform your life as you know it.

Pile some in a food processor with a little olive oil, balsamic vinegar, garlic and fresh basil and process until chunky. It's a sweet little salsa-like condiment to stir into scrambled eggs or dollop on plain pasta.

"What can I eat for lunch?" you ask. How about sticking some of these tomatoes in a fresh mozzarella sandwich with a slice of prosciutto and some fresh basil leaves? Heat the sandwich on a griddle or your panini maker, and you have a sandwich that would make a Roman truck driver very jealous.

And what about dinner? Tonight I made them into a sauce for some fresh pasta (cavatelli, from Whole Foods) with my very favorite green vegetable, broccoli rabe.

So there's the happy ending to today's story, because nothing makes me happier than a big bowl of pasta.