CAPONATA DI CARCIOFI (ARTICHOKES)

I'VE WRITTEN about Caponata before as well as the whole agrodolce business, but I want to add this little gem of a dish to my list of things that are really easy to make and well worth even the slightest effort.

Caponata di Carciofi, or Artichoke Caponata is its name and believe you, me: it is unbelievably delicious.

2 lbs. baby artichokes, peeled, cored and all bristles removed

4 tbs. olive oil
1 shallot or small onion, chopped
1 small clove of garlic, smashed with the flat of a chef's knife

3 stalks celery cut on the bias into medium-sized pieces (about 1 1/2 inch

1/4 cup raisins soaked in enough red wine vinegar to cover

Salt and pepper to taste

1/4 cup pine nuts (toasted)

1 tbs. sugar

1 pomegranate

When trimming the artichokes please leave the stems intact. They are edible and extremely delicious. Cut the artichokes in half and then in half again and soak in a bowl of cold water with a little lemon juice. Let drain in a colander for at least 5 minutes before cooking.

Take the pine nuts and toast them in a heavy bottomed cast iron skillet that has been heating to the smoking point on a high flame. Toast and shake the pan frequently for about 7 minutes or until the nuts begin to take on a burnished color. Remove from heat and allow to cool before proceeding. Remove from pan and reserve.

In the same pan, heat some olive oil and sauté the shallots and the garlic. Add the celery and sauté over moderate heat until the celery becomes very pale green - almost translucent. You can cover the pan during this to sweat the vegetables which will then render their juices more easily and add flavor to the pan. Remove the vegetables from the pan and reserve. Add more olive oil and then sauté the artichokes for about 10 minutes. Drain the raisins from the vinegar and add those to the artichokes. 

In a small saucepan, heat the vinegar and the sugar and let dissolve. Reserve.

Add the celery mixture to the artichokes and then the pignoli. Stir to combine and remove from heat. Add the pomegranate seeds and any juice that remains and stir. Finally, add the vinegar and mix well. Allow to cool. Store in a plastic container until ready to use. It is always better to let caponata rest for a few hours or overnight to allow the flavors to settle and mingle. Always let the caponata come to room temperature before serving.

Buon appetito!

RISOTTO CON PISELLI E ASPARAGI

I MADE RISOTTO the other night and mentioned it to a friend while walking Ludwig (who adores risotto, by the way) and she asked me to post this so her husband can make it for her. She's pregnant you see and has been having finicky dietary cravings and I know that her loving husband will aim to please!

It would be an assumption on my part to say that the combination of peas and asparagus is something a normal Italian might make (some sensibilities may be offended by the combination of two vegetables, contending that asparagus or the pea can stand on their own, which in fact, they can) but sometimes you just get those yearnings for something like this to eat and I had both vegetables in the house and thought it would be a great combination and, true for form, it was.

A lot has been said over the years about the stirring process. To stir or to constantly stir. This is something that you must decide for yourself. Everyone knows their stove and how the heat is distributed (or at least I hope you/they do) and it is important to know exactly how much liquid you can incorporate at one time. I have often added more liquid during the process than I should and let it cook unattended for a few minutes while chopping something else or making a salad, etc., and returning to stir only to find that the risotto is cooking perfectly well on its own. It is only important to remember that you shouldn't be too far away at any given time or leave it on its own for too long. What you want to avoid at all costs, however, is the risotto sticking to the bottom of the pot, so heat, or rather, the amount of it, is key here and stir you definitely should! What is required here is patience, anticipation . . . and love.

This recipe was made with roasted asparagus - only because I had roasted them the night before and had so much leftover - but you can make it from fresh asparagus which, in the long run, is better. The color is also a deeper green on the plate. Either way, this dish epitomizes great northern Italian cooking and makes a delicious first course (only a little bit, please!) or a very substantial and filling main course. 

I used two cups of risotto and about 5 cups of chicken broth which makes this an ultra creamy risotto; especially if one considers that heavy cream, butter and cheese are added at the end. This recipe serves 6-8 people as a first course and 4 for a main course.

4 tbs. olive oil

1 onion, chopped very fine

2 cups Carnaroli or Arborio rice

1 cup white wine

5 cups chicken broth** (heated and kept on a simmering flame)

12 spears fresh or roasted asparagus, trimmed, peeled and cut in small pieces on the bias, reserving the tips for last

1 cup baby peas (fresh or frozen depending on the season)

1/2 cup heavy cream

2 tbs. unsalted butter

a scrape or two of nutmeg

1 cup grated Reggiano-Parmigiano

Heat the olive oil in a deep, heavy bottomed cast iron or enameled pot (Le Creuset dutch ovens are perfect for this). Sauté the onions over moderate heat until they are translucent.

Add the rice and combine well with the onions to ensure that the risotto absorbs the juices and is coated with oil. 

Add the white wine and stir over moderate heat. As soon as the wine has almost evaporated, turn down the heat to a very low simmer and begin to add the broth, one ladleful at a time. You want the rice to absorb the liquid gradually so stirring is essential here. Continue to do this until the rice takes on a creamy consistency and has doubled in volume. I would say that after about 3 cups of liquid, you should start testing the risotto for doneness. This is a crucial moment because you want to make sure that you haven't a long way to go before the risotto is done before you add the asparagus. Otherwise, it will overcook and discolor and we all know that there is nothing worse than gray vegetables! Add the asparagus pieces and cook with the rice for about 5 more minutes. Continue to add more liquid as you go and then add the peas and the asparagus tips. Five cups of broth should yield a wonderful risotto all'onda (waves) as the Venetians say. When you taste the risotto for doneness, it shouldn't be crunchy, but it should still retain its own character and acquire a plump and pillowy texture. 

When almost all of the liquid has been absorbed from the last addition of broth, add the nutmeg, the cream and the butter. Stir into the rice and add a handful of grated cheese and allow that to cook into the risotto as well. You want to incorporate those last additions but not completely cook it away; especially since the risotto will continue to cook after you take it off the heat. The risotto should be very creamy and glisten.

Serve immediately.

Buon appetito!

** N.B. You may have noticed that I haven't called for salt. The chicken stock should be well seasoned and salted so you really don't need any extra salt; especially if you take into account that the grated cheese will add enough salty flavor of its own.

BRACIOLONE DI MAIALE BRASATO

IN SICILY, Braciolone (in dialect pronounced broo-zha-LOO-nee) is normally made with beef (at least that's how my grandmother and mother always made it). Italian cooking being what it is, never discriminates a good cut of meat and I certainly didn't want to pass up an opportunity to stuff, roll and truss a butterflied piece of pork. In today's markets, we find such lean pork that you are almost forced to do something with it that will bring out the flavor of the meat while enhancing the overall dish - a little fat would be nice! Even so, I thought that Braciolone would be ideal for this and it makes no difference here if it were pork or veal or beef. I also had certain ingredients in the house that had to be used, or else. 

Bracioli of any kind are not impossible to make, but it does take some skill and the trussing part is definitely an acquired talent which takes practice. But before we start trussing, let's talk about stuffing. This is only one of any number of variations on stuffing. Sometimes Bracioli have a hard boiled egg inside, sometimes another cut of meat or a sausage. In this case, I am using only greens, garlic, herbs and apricots with a very small amount of toasted bread crumbs. Grated cheese, raisins, currants, even apples or finely diced green peppers are all options as well. Nuts (most commonly, pignoli) can be used as well if it tickles your fancy.

For the stuffing:

1 bunch arugula, bathed in a sinkful of water and rinsed completely free of any sand

1 small onion, minced

5 cloves garlic coarsely chopped

12 dried apricots, coarsely chopped

1 or 2 handfuls of toasted bread crumbs

salt and pepper to taste

1 tbs. chopped fresh thyme

5 leaves chopped sage

3 tsp. dried rosemary

1/8 tsp. nutmeg

5 tbs. chopped fresh flat leaf parsley

Olive oil

1 tsp. whole fennel seeds (reserved for later - see below)

Heat the olive oil in a heavy bottomed cast iron skillet. Add the onion and the garlic and saute until translucent. Add the arugula and sprinkle some water from your hand into the pan and stir until the arugula is completely wilted and starts to form a dense mass. Continue to cook until all liquid is evaporated and turn off the heat. Add the nutmeg, apricots, the herbs and the bread crumbs and stir over a very low flame for about 5 minutes. Take the pan off the heat and let rest. After 5 minutes, taste for seasoning and correct with salt and pepper if necessary. Let cool completely before proceeding with recipe.

1 5 lb. pork tenderloin or sirloin muscle (boned and butterflied)

Spread out the meat on a wooden board large enough to hold the entire length of the roast. It should roughly measure about 14 inches long. Take a heavy meat tenderizer and pound the meat to flatten it out and widen the roast for stuffing. You don't have to try to get it too thin (it's not scallopini after all), just a bit more expanded from its original size.

Spread the stuffing on top and evenly distribute it so it covers the entire surface of the meat with a 1/4 inch border all around. When you are ready to roll and tie, take the fennel seeds and sprinkle them all over the top of the stuffing.

As carefully as you can, roll up the roast while always keeping a firm hand on the inside fold to ensure that all the stuffing remains on the meat. Once the meat is rolled up, let it sit with the outer part of the edge facing down so it doesn't unroll. 

Take a long piece of kitchen twine (about 2 ft.) and starting at one end, tie the string around the meat. Take the string and pull it along the top of the roast about an inch or so and, holding the twine with your thumb on the inside loop, work the twine around the bottom of the roast, bringing it back up around to the top. Interlace the twine over and then under the piece you were holding and pull to make a secure ring around the roast. Continue in this fashion until you've gone the entire length of the roast and then change directions and make one circle the entire length of the roast, bring it around and tie it up to secure the ends and finish the trussing.

At this point, you can rest! That is, if you want to do that. I prefer making this the night before and letting it sit in the fridge overnight so the flavors mingle. In either case salt and pepper the outside of the roast and if cooking the next day, wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate.

Take the roast out of the fridge a good hour before cooking. 

Heat some olive oil in a very large pot (with cover). Sear the roast on all sides until browned and remove from the pot. Discard the oil (it will have smoked) and clean out the pot. 

4 tbs. olive oil

1 small onion, chopped

3 carrots, cut lenghwise and quartered 

3 stalks celery, chopped

5 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped

Chopped fennel stalks and fronds

1 fennel bulb, trimmed of any tough outer leaves and halved 

4 cloves inserted into round parts of the fennel

1/2 cup vermouth or 1/4 cup white wine

1 can chopped tomatoes

1/2 cup stock (chicken will do, but if you have pork it will be even better)*

Chopped herbs:

4 tbs. parsley

2 tsp.rosemary

5 sage leaves

1 tsp. thyme

a handful of fresh basil

Heat the olive oil and saute the fennel bulbs. Let them brown  on each of the flat sides, making sure that the cloves on the round outside leaf isn't disturbed. Add the chopped vegetables and saute until all of they have absorbed the oil and wilted somewhat. Continue to cook and add the vermouth or white wine and let reduce by half. 

Add all of the herbs, the tomatoes and the stock. You can salt to taste, but I cheat and use a chicken bouillon cube. It works. If it's good enough for Simon Hopkinson, it's good enough for me.

Stir often so nothing sticks to the bottom and bring to the boil. 

Add the roast and situate it so the fennel bulbs will fit easily at either end. Bring to the boil once more and lower the heat to the barest simmer and cover. Cook for 4 hours. Check occasionally and stir and turn the roast every once in a while during the braising to ensure even cooking.

When the roast is done remove from the pot and let rest covered with an aluminum tent. At this point you can refrigerate everything and reheat the next day**

To the sauce, add 1/2 cup barley and bring to a boil and then lower heat and cover the pot. Simmer for 45 minutes.

Untie the roast and slice and place on top of the barley and ladle some of the sauce on top and serve.

Buon appetito!

*Unless I use consomme or clarified stock, all the stocks I use are unsalted so please allow for salting at some point for taste. I'm not saying one should use a lot of it, but this wasn't meant to be a saltless recipe. And as you see, I use bouillon at one point in place of salt for added flavor.

** Cutting the braciole when cold is much easier and it is less likely to fall apart than when served immediately after cooking. It also tastes better the next day.

CONSIDER THE BELGIAN ENDIVE

BELGIAN ENDIVE in its raw state is extremely bitter. But to some, it can be a delicious bitter when mixed into a salad dressed simply with olive oil, salt and pepper. Another common form of preparation is braising and now that the temperature has fallen sufficiently to warrant such mode d'emploi, I decided to make some yesterday. It didn't hurt that I had 8 big heads in the fridge just ripe for cooking.

It's always best to trim the outer leaves. I trim the base just ever so slightly with a paring knife and then split the endive in half lengthwise so you have two very nice looking spears. 

This particular dish was contrived as a compliment to a leftover (roasted eggplant). Keeping that in mind, this is how I braised my endive.

8 Belgian Endive (rinsed under cold water, trimmed and sliced in half, lengthwise
2 tbs. unsalted butter
2 tbs. olive oil
1/4 cup stock
1 tbs. tomato paste (or 2-3 tbs. leftover sauce that you have)

Melt 2 tbs. unsalted butter and 2 tbs. olive oil with a little bit of Kosher salt in a pan large enough to hold all the endive comfortably without crowding.

Saute the endive over moderate heat until the bottoms are nicely browned and the butter takes on the color of nutmeg. Add the chicken stock and the tomato paste (I used leftover tomato sauce with saffron) and bring to a boil. Turn down heat to simmer and cover the pot and cook for 25 minutes. Take a look every so often to make sure the juices are covering all the endive. When finished, the endive should have taken on a dark hue and have formed a softened version of its harder self.

Remove from heat and let rest for about 15 minutes (covered).

Place a warm piece or two of eggplant on a plate and arrange a spear over each piece and drizzle on some sauce and serve immediately.

RIGATONI WITH SAUERKRAUT AND PEAS

AT ONE OF THE LAST outposts in Italy, deep in the Dolomites, there is a town called Bolzano. Hidden in a valley dominated by high and craggy mountains, it defines this area, otherwise known as the provence of Alto Adige (formerly the Sud Tyrol of Austria) of which, Bolzano is its capital. Not Italian, not Austrian, it is not so much delineated by country as by custom and here one finds men wearing lederhosen and women wearing more Austrian-looking garb than what one would find anywhere else in Italy. Indeed, even the street signs and signs on the Autostrada reflect this bi-lingualism as everything is in Italian and German.

This is a fun fact: Bolzano was an old Roman outpost which was commanded by the general and consul, Nero Claudius Drusus. Made more famous by Robert Graves in I, Claudius, he was Tiberius's older brother and Claudius's father, and the grandfather of Caligula! He was also Augustus Caesar's adopted son and heir to the Empire. In I, Claudius, his mother Livia had him poisoned so Tiberius could become Emperor but in reality, this professional soldier died from a fall from his horse. Fate's a funny thing ain't it?! 

Another extremely fun fact and then I'll shut up and talk about food: It appears that Bolzano and Bologna are in fierce competition as the two cities with the highest quality of life in Italy. Bolzano won in 2010 and 2012; Bologna in 2011. This must come from the fact that there is very little industry in Bolzano, the air is clean, and the climate is milder than what one would expect for an Alpine town. 

Gastronomically speaking, the fare is both Italian and Austrian. So one could feasibly see a pasta dish served with sauerkraut and speck. Speck is the Alto Adige's answer to prosciutto. It is the combination of two culinary worlds. The hind quarter of a pig is de-boned and quartered (the quarters being called baffe), then salt cured with a variety of spices which may include salt, rosemary, nutmeg and juniper berries. It is then left to rest for several weeks before being smoked for several hours over a period of days and then left to come to full maturity for about  5 months. The shape is more rectangular and the meat, due to the preparation and dual process of air drying and smoking is more compressed and dense; it also packs a delicious punch of intense, smoked flavor. The color, unlike prosciutto, is a deep lush, blood red.

Unfortunately, for this recipe, I did not have speck in the house. But, I had a ton of prosciutto end pieces (remnants) which were cut just a bit thicker than what one usually gets at the store. (I always cull Fairway's throw-away shelf and use pieces such as these in soups, pasta fagioli, for stuffing, or just to eat by itself!) I also had quite a bit of leftover sauerkraut which was made in France with Champagne and thought: now I could make something with pasta and sauerkraut, if I wanted. Surely, if I tap into my memory, I certainly ate something with pasta and la crauta when I was in Bolzano! The more I thought about it, the more I knew it would be so good. And it was!

2 cups French sauerkraut in Champagne

4 tbs. pork or bacon drippings

3 tbs. olive oil

8 oz. prosciutto or speck chopped into coarse pieces

3 slices mortadella diced

3-4 oz. salt pork, diced

1 cup chicken stock

One piece of buttered parchment, cut in a circular shape to fit inside of pot.

Rinse and drain the sauerkraut three times with cold water. Squeeze out as much liquid as you possibly can and reserve (best to keep it in a sieve to drain more while waiting to be used).

Heat the drippings and olive oil over moderately high heat. Add the "meats" and sauté until somewhat tender and the pieces start to render most of their fat. Add the suaerkraut and combine ingredients well and cook for about a minute. Add the chicken stock bring to the boil and turn the heat down to a bare simmer. Cover with the piece of buttered parchment paper and cover with the lid and cook at the lowest setting possible for about 3 hours. Check periodically and stir if necessary. After 2 hours, check to see how much liquid is left in the pot. If there is more than 1/2 cup, uncover the pot and cook partially covered for the last hour of cooking. You should have a dense mass of amber sauerkraut with only about 2 tbs. liquid (browned by now) at the bottom.

Meanwhile, heat the oven to 350º.

Fill a large heavy bottomed pot with water and bring to the boil. Throw a handful of Kosher salt into the boiling water and add

1 lb. Rigatoni Rigati or another macaroni of your choice but it should be ribbed (shells, farfalle, cavatelli, etc.)

Cook for 6 minutes and drain in a colander. The pasta should be very al dente and not completely cooked.

If you used a pot similar to a Le Creuset pot, lightly grease it with some olive oil, add the semi-cooked pasta and all of the sauerkraut and mix thoroughly. Add:

1-1/2 cups heavy cream

1 cup grated Parmesan cheese

1/8 tsp. nutmeg

Stir to combine and sprinkle on some toasted bread crumbs.

Put into the oven uncovered and bake for 45-60 minutes. The top will be browned and crusty and the cream should have acquired a thick, creamy consistency.

Serve immediately.

If you're like me - one who loves cold pasta the next day - you will love this dish. Little shreds of cabbage clinging to each piece of rigatoni lending texture to texture. I had some this morning and it was outrageous!

ROASTED CAULIFLOWER

I WAS WALKING through the green market at Columbia University last week and found little baby cauliflowers. The white ones didn't interest me but the yellow and purples ones did. So, I bought a couple of each and immediately thought about roasting them - impulse food shopping often carries my imagination away. 

A few facts: all cauliflowers are descendants of the Romanesco cauliflower (green with pointed florets), which was eaten in ancient times. All of the other cauliflowers don't seem to have appeared on the scene before the 18th century. There are hundreds of varieties throughout the world, more than 80 of which are found in North America. Purple cauliflower has the same antioxidants found in red cabbage and red wine. The orange variety was discovered in a field in Canada and contains a good deal more Vitamin A than the white varieties. 

Just so you know, cauliflower is extremely good for you. It possesses almost the same health benefits as cabbage and has been known to reduce the causes of prostate cancer. It is also very nutritional as it is low in carbohydrates and fats and provides plenty of dietary fiber and Vitamin C to ensure healthy living. Much of the nutritional value of the vegetable is washed away - pardon the pun - when boiled, but roasted! Well, that's another story completely. There is nothing quite so delicious as a crunchy, roasted cauliflower floret dipped into a bagna cauda or eaten with spaghetti as the Sicilians do.

Heat the oven to 350º or if using convection 325º.

Line a large roasting pan with parchment paper and set aside.

To roast the cauliflower, remove all outer leaves from 2 medium sized colored cauliflower (purple and gold work but the green romanescos are great tooand break or cut away the center stem at the base. Gently pull apart all of the florets (uniformity in size is not important here) and rinse under cold water and let drain in a colander. 

Put all of the florets in a large bowl and sprinkle on salt and pepper and toss. In a small bowl pour about 1/4 cup of olive oil, add 1 tsp of thyme and a generous squirt of anchovy paste of 4 mashed anchovy filets (if using anchovy filets I often pour some of the anchovy oil from the can into the bowl as well). Mix well and pour over the cauliflower and toss until well coated. Add one whole head of garlic, cloves separated with cracked casings but left on each clove. Toss again and pour contents of the bowl onto the parchment paper. Spread out the vegetables evenly around the pan and roast in the oven for one hour or more depending on how crunchy and blistered you want your cauliflower. You should periodically check on the vegetables and turn the pan midway through the roasting period. 

When the cauliflower is done, remove from the oven and let cool. At this point, you can either use for an antipasto platter with bagna cauda or use as an ingredient in another dish like the one which is going to follow directly.

Sicilians usually make Spaghetti with Cauliflower with olive oil, cauliflower, oregano and lemons. The other night, knowing that I had roasted cauliflower and other leftovers in the fridge, I decided to make a variation on this theme with a few additions here and there. Not including the prep time of roasting, chopping and mincing, the cooking time for this dish should be approximately 15 minutes.

Olive oil

1/8 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes (optional)

5 cloves roasted garlic. minced

3 cloves fresh garlic, minced

1/2 small onion, minced

1 small stalk from the top of a fennel bulb, minced plus the attached fronds

1/4 white wine

2 roasted cauliflower (one yellow, one purple as described above)

1 cup leftover arugula salad (dressed only in olive oil and vinegar)

8 pitted olives

1/2 preserved lemon plus 4 tbs. preserved lemon juice

1 tbs. chopped fresh thyme

3 tbs. chopped fresh flat leaf parsley

1 whole lemon (juiced, but reserve the shells with the rind)

Kosher salt

Romano cheese

1 lb. long dry spaghetti 

Fill a large pot with water and set it over high heat. When the water comes to the boil add a handful of Kosher salt, the two empty lemon shells and insert the pasta. Stir often and cook until al dente (for boxed pasta anywhere between 9-11 minutes).

While water is heating, heat the olive oil in a large frying pan and sprinkle on the pepper flakes, if using. Add the garlic, onion and the fennel and saute until soft and translucent. Add the white wine and cook down until you have about 2 tablespoons of liquid. Add the cauliflower, the olives and the arugula and cook gently over moderate heat until most os the liquid is absorbed. Juice the lemon, add the lemon juice, the thyme and the parsley and continue to cook until the liquid takes on a syrupy consistency. 

When pasta is finished, remove lemon rinds, drain in a colander and turn the entire contents into the frying pan. Toss with more olive oil and make sure all ingredients are well incorporated. Add some cheese and serve immediately with more cheese at the table.

Buon appetito!

Sorry, no pictures!

BLACK SQUID INK TORTELLI STUFFED WITH SHELLFISH

I SAID that I would be making Tortelloni and Tortellini soon and on Sunday that is precisely what happened. (Unless I'm trying to be very specific, all future reference to either pasta will be "tortelli".) I had leftover squid ink pasta dough in the freezer and brought it out to thaw in the fridge on Friday, went to the fish market on Saturday and bought a few things for this dish as well as some tuna and skate for dinner on Saturday night. It always amazes me when I successfully leave a fish store with at least 5 different types of fish (including shellfish) without having spent more than $20.00 for the lot!

In any event, let's talk about these tortelli. They are tiny pieces of dough, squares actually, hand cut, which are then filled with any variety of stuffings and formed into a shape that is supposed to look like Venus's navel and I suppose in a way they do. I could say that it is more for special occasions that one would make these at home (Christmas, Easter, a birthday meal), but one could argue that just making them from beginning to end with your very own hands is special occasion enough; it certainly is for me! In Bologna, tortelli of any kind is ubiquitous and tortellini are usually filled with veal. In Mantova, any traditional Christmas meal worth its salt begins with Tortelli alla Zucca (pumpkin stuffing, then cooked and dressed in melted butter with sage, or dressed with panna (cream), butter, sage, with pignoli and raisins). Tortelloni, the larger version can be stuffed with cheese (most often Ricotta and Parmiggiano), meat, vegetables or a combination of all three, but here is where you run into the danger of masking flavors instead of showcasing one or two together. The possibilities of stuffings are endless, however; especially if you are imaginative on how to make use of vegetables and leftover cuts of meat. The paradox to all of this is that even though these are complicated and labor intensive, keeping it simple is key: less ingredients help to bring out the flavors and aromas that are already there; you want to be able to taste the ink in the pasta, the filling and all the ingredients as well as the sauce you put on it. 

I first saw this particular recipe in Katy Caldese's cookbook Cook Italy which is a fabulous compendium of some of the most typical foods from all over the Italian countryside. This black pasta, however, has a more Southern and Sicilian bent to it, as it uses tomato, a tiny bit of hot pepper and shellfish for its sauce and the stuffing is made from chopped shrimp, chopped tuna belly, a little tomato and saffron and ricotta cheese. Are you salivating yet? It takes practice - and time - making these and I don't do it so very often, so every time that I do make these, it's not exactly like the first time but there is a bit of cajoling required. 

As you can see from the photograph above, mine are not terrible but they aren't exactly what Marcella Hazan* would give a rousing array of praise. 

Please refer to my blog entry of September 5th for instructions on making black pasta dough. Making the tortellini and tortelloni requires doing it in small batches. Using a pastry blade or a large kitchen knife, cut off an ample piece of dough which you can mold into a flat disc. If you are going to roll the dough out by hand use a small rolling pin instead of a large one as it will give you better control in stretching. If you are using a hand cranked machine, roll the dough out into a very long and thin rectangular piece of pasta which should measure about 14x4 inches. Cut the strip lengthwise in two pieces and let to air dry for about 10 minutes. Continue to roll out dough but always keep the ball of dough in a bowl covered with a damp towel. I've recently seen a piece of pasta dough in an article in Bon Appetit where the cook (not an Italian) wraps the dough in plastic wrap while rolling out sheets. It is unfortunate for her because one immediately sees that the plastic is not only retaining but adding moisture to the dough, which negates the entire method surrounding "air-dried" pasta. So, unless you're going to freeze the dough, NEVER use plastic wrap with hand made egg pasta.

So, for the filling you will need:

3 tbs. olive oil
1 very small onion or a shallot, minced
1 tiny clove of garlic, minced to a paste
8-10 small shrimp, deveined, shelled and chopped
4 tbs. tuna or tuna belly chopped
2 tsp. leftover tomato sauce used in a previous meal with fish
8 oz. fresh ricotta cheese
1 egg and 2 egg yolks beaten together
1/8 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 cup Grana Padano.
Salt and pepper

Heat the oil over moderately high heat saute the onion and the garlic. Add the shrimp and the tuna and cook gently over a low flame. Add he tomato sauce and correct seasoning if necessary. Let the liquid evaporate so everything comes together as one mass. Turn off heat and let cool.

Meanwhile, take the ricotta, the eggs, nutmeg and Grana and mix well with a wooden spoon or a pastry blender. When the tomato and fish mixture is cooled add that and mix well. Let rest for about 15 minutes.

When making the tortellini or tortelloni you should use a ruler to calculate measurements when cutting the pasta. Ideally you want a perfect square (for tortellini about 1-1/2 x1-1/2 inches; for tortelloni about 2-1/2 or 3 inches on all sides). Tortelloni requires less pieces per person (6 tops) whereas tortellini would be served in greater quantities since they are so small (perhaps a dozen). The thing here though, is this: tortellini is almost alwasy served in a rich stock made from meat or poultry, most often veal (especially in Bologna!). Since our scope is somewhat less orthodox, the sauce will be a shellfish tomato sauce made with clams and saffron. And remember this: no cheese on pasta with fish or seafood. To Italians, this would mar if not completely obliterate any taste of the sea found in the dish being eaten.

To make the tortelli, cut equal squares from one of the strips of pasta and have a little bowl of milk ready at the side to dip you finger in and line 2 of the edges of the square with a very little bit of milk. Use a demitasse spoon and place a small dollop of stuffing mixture directly in the center of the square. Fold over the dough into a triangle and press firmly so all edges are sealed. Lift the triangle and  connect the two bottom corners of the triangle. While holding the corners with your thumb. Fold over the top corner of the triangle so the corner faces out and on the opposite side of the other two connected corners. What you get should resemble a little navel or a cap. Continue to make the tortelli until all of the filling is used. 

At this point, you can let them air dry for several hours, turning them periodically so they dry evenly before cooking and serving. If you don't intend to use them the day you make them, freeze them in a flat box like plastic container. Do NOT use a ZipLock bag - they will be crushed.

Tomato Sauce with Shellfish
pinch hot red pepper flakes (optional)
3-4 tbs. olive oil
2 cloves garlic
1 small onion minced
Several strands Saffron or a pinch of powdered
1/4 cup white wine
2 12oz. cans chopped tomatoes
1 tsp. fresh chopped thyme
3 tbs. fresh chopped parsley
Salt and pepper to taste
1 doz. clams (Little Necks work well here)

Heat the oil in a hot pan and, if using, add the pepper flakes and allow to heat through. Add the garlic and the onion and sauté until soft but not browned. Dissolve the saffron in the white wine and add that to the pan. Let reduce to barely 2 tbs. Add the tomatoes and bring to the boil and reduce heat to moderately low. Stir in the thyme and the parsley and let cook and reduce by about a third of the volume. Add the clams and cover the pan and steam in the tomato liquid for about 20 minutes. I've found, this year in particular, that clams in general took longer to cook and open than in my previous experience. This may not sound as important as it really should. Shellfish, being the last thing one puts into the pot before serving, shouldn't be overcooked as it will get tough, so your timing with regard to the steaming and the boiling of water and cooking time for the pasta is crucial here. 

After adding the clams, immediately put a large covered pot of water on a high flame and bring to the boil as quickly as possible. Once the water starts to boil, take a handful of Kosher salt and put in the water and add the tortelli. Stir the pot once or twice to ensure that nothing sticks to the bottom of the pot, cover and let the water return to the boil. Uncover the pot once the water regains a rolling boil, reduce heat by about half so you still have a gentle boil. The tortelli will float up to the surface, but, like gnocchi, allow them to cook for 3-4 minutes so the stuffing is thoroughly cooked before removing with a slotted spoon to a serving bowl or platter.

When the clams have opened, remove the flesh from the shells and put the clams back into the sauce. Stir well and dress the pasta with the sauce and serve immediately.

Buon appetito!

* I just finished reading her autobiography, Amarcord and will only say that if you are at all interested in Italian cooking as well as learning or experiencing vicariously the sounds and flavors of Italy in all its aspects, this is the book to read. Her descriptions of how Italians live, eat - and do business! - are highly charged accounts of life on a very high and passionate pitch! The stories about her adventures as she made several grand gastronomic gallops throughout the globe are really quite wonderful. 

GNUDI DI RICOTTA

YESTERDAY, NOT FOR WANT OF ANYTHING BETTER TO DO, I decided to make gnudi (pronounced: NYOO-di), those tiny, bite-sized pieces of gnocchi (pronounced: NYAWK-ee). I suppose one could call them gnocchetti if one wanted, but for our purposes, let us call them gnudi. Before I begin on food, though, let us consider pianos for a moment if you will. 

The apartment is being made ready for the great event next week, when my Steinway LR (the R is for reproducer) will be removed to have a complete overhaul - new pin block, strings, and hammers and anything else that comes up along the way. Trying to purge can be a daunting task; especially if you're attempting to sift through 30 years of your life. For a pianist, it is an alarming - and in this case, very expensive - situation to be sans instrument! I contemplated renting something for the interim, but since the job at hand only requires 4-6 weeks time, it seemed improbable that I would be able to rent an instrument for such a short period of time. Time will tell how I fair depending on the kindness of strangers! There have been offers, don't get me wrong - I do have a fan base, you know! - and it surely will come to pass that I will need to have some consistency in practicing but for the time being I'm happy to form a new sort of discipline requiring the actual removal of self from said dwelling space to venture forth to a new work space somewhere in Manhattan to work and play at the piano. It might become habit forming and force me to stop cooking!

So, as I said, I made gnudi yesterday. I've been making these morsels on a larger scale (two to a customer vs. 6-8 per person) for many years. The first time I ever had Gnocchi di Ricotta was many years ago - in 1982 to be precise - in Rome at a little trattoria behind Piazza Navona. They were served two to a plate with only burro fuso (melted butter) and grated Reggiano-Parmigiano with a dash of nutmeg. I will never forget it as long as I live. I can still see myself experiencing that first bite of warm cheese oozing with butter and more cheese and the padrona looking on serenely as I savored each curdy morsel. My dining partner, who instigated this excursion to the other side of Rome from where I was living, was prodding me on with each bite. Dai! Dai! Forza! Mangia pure! Only in Italy!

Gnudi di Ricotta

See ricotta recipe at the end of this entry  

2 cups fresh ricotta cheese

1 cup grated Grana Padano

1/2 cup flour

1 egg

4 egg yolks

1/8 tsp. salt

Several dashes of nutmeg

1/4 cup minced mortadella (optional)

You can also opt to make these with ricotta and spinach or arugula or even parsley

You will need 1 cup of the chopped greenery, cooked and squeezed completely dry before adding to the ricotta mixture.

Once all ingredients are incorporated into a thick paste, refrigerate for an hour in a plastic container or a bowl with a firm seal of plastic wrap over it.

Dust a cookie sheet with flour.

To form gnudi, take two demitasse spoons or two small teaspoons and form an oval dumpling - something akin to the shape of a quenelle - and place each one on the cookie sheet. Keep forming until you have a substantial quantity or you've used up the mixture. You should have anywhere between 30-50 gnudi. These don't freeze well at all so you will either need to cook them immediately or you can refrigerate them for up to 5 or 6 hours, but they should be loosely covered with a tea towel. If you don't use all of the mixture, you can use whatever ricotta you have left for another use, such as filling for ravioli or tortelloni. In my case, I'm going to add my own home made fish paste made from cod and stuff them into black squid ink pasta dough and make tortelloni and freeze them for a dinner party not too far in the distant future.

Fill a very large pot with cold water and bring to the boil. Add a handful of Kosher salt. Drop the gnudi in the boiling water and reduce heat to medium. You don't want to stop the boiling but you don't want it boiling like crazy either. The gnudi will rise to the surface as they cook but allow them to cook for about 5-6 minutes. Remove to a serving casserole dish lined with melted butter and tomato sauce, cover with more sauce and place in a 200º oven for about 10 minutes to allow them to absorb some of the sauce. Serve immediately with Reggiano-Parmigiano.

Basic Tomato Sauce

I've been using hot pepper flakes quite a bit lately and this sauce is delicious with or without the heat.

Olive Oil
1 or 2 shakes of a red crushed pepper container (optional)
1 small onion, minced
5 cloves garlic, minced
1 12 oz. can chopped tomatoes
1/2 12 oz. can tomato sauce
18 basil leaves sliced into chiffonade
Salt and pepper
Pinch of sugar (optional)

Heat the olive oil and sprinkle the pepper flakes into the pan. Add the onion and garlic and sauté until the onions become transparent and soft. Add the tomatoes and bring to the boil. Turn down heat, add salt and pepper to taste and the basil as well as the sugar, if using. Cook at a low simmer for about 20 minutes and turn off the heat and keep covered while cooking the gnudi.

Ricotta Cheese

3 1/2 quarts WHOLE Milk

2 cups half and half

1 cup heavy cream (optional - I like it creamy)

3/4 cup white distilled vinegar

Use a stainless steel or heavy enameled pot (Le Creuset is ideal) large enough to hold all liquids. Once you stir in the vinegar, you will see the milk products start to separate (sometimes I've had to use more than a cup of vinegar to get more curd out of the liquid; experimenting to find your own way and method is key here). Place the pot over moderately high heat and bring to a simmer (just short of the boiling point (180º F). Gently stir occasionally so the milk doesn't scald and stick to the bottom of the pan.. You don't want to disturb the curds. I use a rubber spatula instead of a wooden or metal spoon to get in the corners at the bottom of the pan. 

While the milk is heating, place a double sheet of cheesecloth or a tea towel under water and then squeeze out water and unfold over a colander. 

Large clumps of curd will form and float to the top of the pan. When the temperature reaches 180º, remove the pot from the heat. Place the colander in a large bowl and start removing the curds with a slotted spoon (do not pour all the contents of the pan into the colander). Once all the curds have been removed, and if the whey is still very cloudy, you can bring the liquid back to the boiling point to see if more curds will form. If so, place those in the colander as well.

Let the ricotta drain in the colander for at least one hour. You want a dense mass of ricotta cheese, so, the longer it drains, the denser the cheese will become. You can place the cheese in plastic storage containers and refrigerate for up to a week but it is best when at its freshest. In my experience making ricotta, there is always a lot of residue which can't be retrieved with a slotted spoon. After I have extracted as much cheese as is humanly possible, I pour the liquid into the colander and let the liquid drain while keeping the last vestiges of cheese in the colander. This recipe yields about 4 cups of cheese and is very delicious.

As I've said before, fresh ricotta will keep for about a week to 10 days if left undisturbed in the refrigerator, but it really should be used as soon after making it as possible.