Pasta with Tuna and White Beans

It has come to my attention that it has been a few posts since I offered an original recipe, so I’m thinking that it’s about time that I do so. The timing is perfect, because I recently made a pasta dish with tune and white beans that I was quite pleased with. It started as one of those I-have-nothing-planned-for-dinner-let’s-see-what-I-have-in-the-kitchen nights. What I found was some multi-coloured rotini, canned tuna, canned cannellini beans, cherry tomatoes, fresh basil, and nutritional yeast.

Nutritional yeast is kind of an oddball health food product, a crunchy powder made from brewer’s yeast. It’s nutty and a little salty and is delicious sprinkled on top of a lot of dishes, so I thought I’d finish off my pasta dish with it. I wound up not using it, but it’s still a viable candidate to complete this recipe with. Instead of the nutritional yeast, I sprinkled breadcrumbs I had left over from the garnish for the Chilled Avocado Soup on top of the pasta. I loved the breadcrumbs in this: they added flavour, colour and, texture.

I also added sliced onions, broccoli florets, and garlic to the dish. This recipe makes for a healthy meal, considering the tuna, the beans, and all the vegetables. I used tri-colour rotini for pasta here, but I’m sure whole-wheat pasta would be good here as well.

In terms of technique, I basically combined everything but the pasta together in a large skillet while the pasta was cooking. Some of the pasta water served to add some moisture and flavour, as well as to help bind everything together. As I have started doing every time I cook pasta, I did not drain the pot when the noodles were ready. Instead, I used a pasta lifter to pull the rotini right out of the pot, and into the skillet. This way, starch remains on the pasta and it binds better with the sauce or other ingredients.

I served this in shallow bowls, and finished it with a little salt, a light drizzle of olive oil, and a sprinkling of breadcrumbs. The results were tasty and satisfying, a diverse meal in one bowl. The recipe is versatile as well: you could play with different types of pastas, different vegetables, and different beans. And perhaps you’ll agree with me when I say that it’s hard to beat a delicious meal that comes together in under half an hour!

Pasta with Tuna and White Beans
Serves 2

½ lb. tri-coloured rotini
Salt
2 tbsp. olive oil, plus more for finishing
½ medium onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
½ tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
1 cup broccoli florets, blanched and shocked
½ pint cherry tomatoes
1 5 oz. can tuna, drained
1 15 oz. can cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
Spicy Paprika Breadcrumbs (recipe below)

Heat a large pot of well-salted water to a rolling boil. Cook the pasta in it until al dente, about eight or nine minutes.

Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onions and sauté until softened and translucent, about six minutes. Add the garlic and crushed red pepper and cook, stirring, until fragrant, about one minute. Add the broccoli cook until it begins to turn bright green, three or four minutes. Add the cherry tomatoes, and cook until skins begin to crack, and then stir in the tuna and beans, and allow them to heat through, another two minutes or so.

When the pasta is cooked, add a ladle or two of the starchy pasta water to the skillet. Use a pasta lifter to take the pasta out of the water, and add it to the skillet. When all the pasta has been added, leave the skillet on the heat for a minute or so to allow everything to cook together.

Serve the pasta in shallow bowls and finish with a light drizzle of olive oil, and a sprinkle of breadcrumbs.

Spicy Paprika Breadcrumbs

1 4x4x1/2-inch slice soft white sandwich bread with crust
1 tbsp. butter
¾ tsp. paprika
¼ tsp. coarse kosher salt
1/8 tsp. cayenne pepper

Finely grind bread in food processor. Melt butter in medium non-stick skillet over medium-high heat. Add breadcrumbs to skillet; stir until golden, about 1 minute. Add paprika, coarse salt, and cayenne; stir until breadcrumbs are crisp, about a minute longer. Transfer to a small bowl and cool.

On a Whim: Spaghetti al Limone

I tend to be a planner, and this applies very much to my cooking habits. Most of the time, I take time out of my weekend to plan out meals for the week ahead. I try to incorporate variety into the seven meals, use up ingredients I have around, and keep things exciting and mouth-watering. By doing this instead of winging it and coming up with dinner on the day I eat it, I save money by not buying a lot of ingredients that will go bad before they are used up, I eat healthier by having a plan, and I save time by not having to figure out what to cook every day. Sometimes, though, I get a whim that I just can’t ignore. When I get a craving—or, we could call it an inspiration—like this, I’ll often give in to it. I never regret it when I do.

This happened to me recently. I was reading another blogger’s post and she mentioned the spaghetti al limone she had recently, and suddenly, dinner had been decided. The rich, yet, somehow, almost refreshing taste of this pasta dish was what I wanted. Fortunately, like many Italian masterpieces, the recipe is incredibly simple, and I already had all of the ingredients on hand. I say, it was a sign.

A lemon, some parmesan, white wine, heavy cream, butter, spaghetti pasta, salt, and pepper are all that’s required. A note on parmesan: good food deserves good parmesan, so don’t skimp out and buy any of the pre-grated stuff, or—heaven forbid—that white powder that Kraft likes to call parmesan. Is this the good stuff pricey? Yup, it sure is, but it’s totally worth it. Keep in mind that you only use a little at a time and it keeps really well, so you won’t have to buy it often. Or, you can do what I do, and buy the ends. A lot of grocery stores will do this: they will sell the ends of the parmesan wheels and other odd little pieces in bags for about half the price they sell the big chunks for. The quality is the same; you’re just not getting one solid, perfect piece.

I used this recipe from the New York Times as a guideline, but made some modifications. A few things in the recipe’s directions don’t really make sense, so I think I’ve written a clearer recipe here. Like I said, though, it’s pretty straight-forward. To start, reduce wine and with lemon zest and some juice until the flavour is concentrated and the consistency is syrupy. Then, incorporate the cream into the reduction.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta in salted water. When it is finished, do not drain it! Use a pasta lifter to lift the cooked spaghetti right out of the water and into the pan containing the cream sauce. With a toss and maybe a little extra pasta water, you’re almost done. Finish it off with some butter and plenty of parmesan.

Finally, plate it simply in a shallow bowl and top with a little more parm and a few grinds of fresh black pepper. In about half an hour, dinner is served, and inspiration is realized.

Sometimes, plans are good. They keep life organized, and they keep you on the right track. But you can’t always follow the plan, and that’s a good thing too.

Spaghetti al Limone
Adapted from The New York Times, January 31, 2007
Serves 4

1 lemon
1 ½ cups dry white wine
1 cup heavy cream
1 lb. spaghetti
3 tbsp. butter, cut into pieces
4 oz. freshly grated parmesan cheese
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Zest the lemon into a large skillet. Juice the lemon, add about a tablespoon to the skillet and reserve the rest. Add the wine to the skillet. Bring to a boil, and then reduce to a simmer. Let the liquid reduce by about three-quarters, until it has a thicker, more syrupy consistency. Keep a close eye on it—you don’t want it to over-reduce, and this will happen quickly.

Once the desired consistency is reached, remove the skillet from the heat and gradually stir in the cream. Put it back on the heat and allow it to come to a simmer again and reduce by about a quarter. Stir in the rest of the lemon juice. Season with about a quarter teaspoon of sea salt, and a quick grind of black pepper.

Meanwhile, cook the spaghetti in a large pot of salted water until it is al dente. When it is cooked, turn off the heat and do not drain it. Use a pasta lifter to lift the spaghetti right out of the water and into the skillet containing the sauce. Set the skillet over low heat and toss to coat the pasta with the sauce. If the combination is looking dry, add a little bit of pasta water. Drop the butter in and sprinkle with most of the parmesan, reserving a little for garnish. Toss again and add pasta water if necessary. Taste and season with salt, as needed. Plate in shallow bowls and finish with a dusting of parmesan, and a sprinkle of freshly ground black pepper.

True Ragu Bolognese

I want to share a dish I made way back in September, when the tomato season was just coming to a close, and weather for hot, savory comfort food was just beginning. The dish was something I had made many times before, but in a different form. In this other form, I think it can only be called “spaghetti sauce”: a combination of canned tomatoes, ground beef, onion, garlic, and various herbs, simmered for maybe an hour or so, then served over spaghetti pasta with parmesan on the side. I think that most North American families have some form of this recipe, and it is almost always a favorite. This time, though, I decided I wanted to do it right, or, more accurately, do it traditionally. I wanted to make a true ragu Bolognese. This is probably something that few non-Italians can describe correctly. I, myself, am no expert, but thanks to a little research and some experimenting, I think I can cover the main points. Here’s what you need to know: a true ragu Bolognese has tomato in it, but it is not a tomato sauce. It also has milk in it, but it is not a cream sauce. It has a good amount of meat in it as well, but it is not a stew. Its true nature is a thick, savory, luscious sauce that is suffuse with incredible flavor, and is a perfect balance of creamy and acidic.

I also decided that I wanted to really make the sauce and all of its components from scratch, so instead of using canned tomato sauce, I made my own with tomato sauce from the farmer’s market.

I also bought one-pound of bottom round and ground it myself in my food processor.

Were these steps necessary? Well, no, you can make an excellent sauce using a good-quality canned tomato product, and high-quality ground beef from your butcher, and you’ll save yourself a couple of hours. I liked knowing that everything was as fresh as you can get it, and that my own skills were really responsible for everything in that sauce. So, if you have the whole afternoon to make your Bolognese, and tomatoes are in season (don’t bother if they aren’t), I’d recommend making your own sauce and grinding your own meat.
Deb at Smitten Kitchen showed how to make a great tomato sauce, and this video will give you a good idea of how to grind your own meat. Don’t forget to keep that meat cold at all times!

I looked through a number of “true” ragu Bolognese recipes, but ended up using directions from Mario Batali here. Don’t just follow the recipe—watch the video. That’s where he explains the true techniques and why to employ them. I didn’t follow his recipe exactly, though—I made a few small changes.

To start, I followed Batali’s advice and sweated mirepoix in an enameled pot in butter and olive oil, keeping the heat around medium-low, and really trying to evaporate the water out of the vegetables. Listen to the man: this is not a sauce you can rush if you want to make it correctly.

For the meat, I used only ground beef, which worked out wonderfully, but I’m sure that the combination of pork, veal, and beef he suggests would be fantastic. Again, I made sure that I really rendered that meat, melting all the fat, cooking out all the liquid.

Now, here’s where I departed from Batali’s method the most: instead of using only tomato paste, I couldn’t resist using some of my lovely, homemade tomato sauce as well. So, I only mixed in a couple of tablespoons of tomato paste, let that cook for ten minutes or so, then added two cups of my tomato sauce, and let that reduce by about two thirds.

Then came the milk, then the wine, each reduced down separately so that they can impart their flavors adequately.

I covered the pot, and let it cook for a couple of hours. Then, I added some fresh rosemary, and seasoned with salt and pepper. Finally, I combined it with parmesan and cooked spaghetti, creating a magnificent little piece of Italian heaven.

You may be thinking to yourself, is this really worth all the time it takes? Do I really want to spend several hours making some kind of glorified spaghetti sauce? The answer to both this questions is a definitive yes. This sauce exemplifies the concept of developing flavor over time brilliantly. The resulting ragu has so much complexity, so many wonderful flavor notes, that you will know as soon as you taste it that you could never make anything like this in only a half hour. Also, this is nothing so banal as “spaghetti sauce”: this is ragu Bolognese.

Ragu Bolognese
Adapted from Mario Batali at Savory.tv
Serves 4-6

5 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
3 tbsp butter
1 carrot, finely diced
1 medium onion diced
1 rib celery finely diced
1 clove garlic, sliced
1 ½ lbs. good quality ground beef
2 tbsp. tomato paste
2 cups excellent tomato sauce
1 cup milk
1 cup dry white wine
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Leaves from one sprig of rosemary, chopped
Parmigiano-Reggiano, to grate
1 lb. spaghetti, cooked in salted water

In a 6 to 8-quart, heavy bottomed saucepan, heat the olive oil and butter over medium heat. Add the onions, celery, and garlic and sweat over medium heat until the vegetables are translucent and soft but not browned, about 10 to 15 minutes. Add the beef and stir into the vegetables. Add the meat over high heat, stirring to keep the meat from sticking together until browned. Add the tomato paste, and cook, stirring, for ten minutes or so, until the tomato paste has caramelized. Add the tomato sauce and let that reduce by about two thirds. Add the milk, and allow that to reduce down until it is nearly gone. Do the same with the wine. Cover and simmer over medium-low heat for 1 to 1 1/2 hours. Stir in the rosemary, then season with salt and pepper, to taste, and remove from the heat.

When ready to use, the cooked pasta should be added to a saucepan with the appropriate amount of hot ragu Bolognese and Parmigiano-Reggiano, and tossed so that the pasta is evenly coated by the ragu. Serve with more Parm on the side.

Summer Pleasures

It’s summertime, and the living is easy. Actually, the living is quite wonderful. I’m enjoying the season for some of the obvious reasons: warm and sunshiny weather, time off from school and work, lots of festivals going on, and, of course, plenty of local in-season fruits and vegetables. This summer is extra-special for me, though. As I have mentioned before, I am getting married, and it’s happening this summer, at the end of August. I am so excited to be tying the knot, and after a year of planning, it’s amazing to think that the big day is only a few weeks away. To plan for this momentous occasion, I came home from Seattle to my lovely Montreal to spend time with the family, and make final arrangements for the wedding. In the middle of all this, there isn’t enough time for me to get a job, so it has been a summer of happy wedding planning, fun days with friends, precious time with family, and lazy hours drinking coffee and reading on the deck.

All of these summer reunions and celebrations seem to revolve around food. I have cooked meals, gone out to eat with loved ones, and spent hours sitting at the dinner table with friends and family, talking and laughing over many a wonderful meal. Cooking together, eating together, tasting together, and experiencing the joy of food together seems to go hand in hand with enjoying other people’s company. It is one of the many reasons why I am looking forward to a life with food.

A recent celebration of the summer was my Mom’s birthday. To mark the occasion, my sister and I cooked dinner for the family. Now, this was the first time my sister and I had ever cooked together. I should also add that my sister is, like me, in culinary school. It could have gone horribly wrong, and ended in an angry storm of broken dishes, ruined food, and hurt egos. It didn’t, though. In fact, things went remarkably well. As it turns out, my sister and I work very well in the kitchen together. We danced gracefully around each other, working individually on some components, and together on others. We agreed on almost everything, lent one another a helping hand when necessary, and had fun doing it. We spent the afternoon shopping at a nearby market for fresh ingredients. We brought them home and created a memorable meal that was elegant, and not too heavy.

We started with a couple of plates of hors d’oeuvres. I made Roasted Figs with Prosciutto and Hazelnut Picada.

Heather made mini Spanish Spinach and Tomato Pizzas.

They were both memorable, and are definitely bound to be repeated. My figs created a wonderful combination of warm, sweet fruit, paired with salty prosciutto, and nutty-salty picada. Heather’s pizzas were refreshing bites of spinach on perfectly crispy crusts, finished off with crunchy pine nuts.

For our main, we collaborated on an Asparagus and Artichoke Salad with Mustard-Shallot Vinaigrette, a Carrot and Parsnip Puree, and Mushroom Ravioles. The ravioles were on the non-traditional side, as we didn’t close the two sheets of pasta that sandwiched the sautéed mushrooms, but rather left them open, so that it looked a little like a loose lasagna. The concept, from Laura Calder of the Canadian Food Network show, French Cooking at Home, made for a fun presentation.

To finish off our meal, Heather made Lemon Mascarpone-Stuffed Crêpes with Fresh Berries and Honey.

It was a perfect end to the meal: though the mascarpone was rich, this was offset by the tartness of the berries, and the drizzle of honey added just the right amount of sweetness.

We lingered over the meal for well over an hour, sipping our wine, and enjoying each other’s company. It was good for the taste buds, the stomach, and the soul. Happy summer, everyone!

Mushroom Ravioles
From French Taste: Elegant Everyday Eating by Laura Calder, p. 110
Serves 4

1 ½ lbs. mushrooms (Heather and I used a medley of portobello, cremini, and oyster mushrooms)
¼ cup butter
A splash olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
Salt and pepper
½ cup stock
A generous handful of finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, more for garnish
Fresh lemon juice (optional)
3-4 tbsp. chopped fresh dill or sage (we had neither and used thyme—it was lovely)
8 3”x4” sheets dried pasta
Dill sprigs for garnish (again, we used thyme)

Cut the mushrooms into quarters or eights, depending on their size, and set aside. Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-high heat. Pout a tablespoon of the butter into a sauté pan. Continue heating the remaining butter in the saucepan until it turns light brown. Set aside. Bring a large pot of water to the boil for the pasta.

Add a splash of olive oil to the butter in the sauté pan. Set the pan on high heat and when the oil is hot, add the mushrooms, sautéing until slightly coloured, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic, season with salt and pepper, and continue cooking until the mushrooms are soft, about 4 minutes. Add the garlic, season with salt and pepper, and continue cooking until the mushrooms are soft, about 4 minutes more. Pour over the stock, and boil to reduce to a couple of tablespoons, a matter of minutes. Stir in the cheese. Taste, check the seasonings, and add a squirt of lemon juice if you think it needs it. Stir in the herbs, and keep the mixture warm while you cook the pasta.

Generously salt the boiling pasta water. Add the pasta and cook until al dente. Drain the pasta, and return it to the pan, tossing with the reserved brown butter. lay a sheet of pasta on each of four serving plates. Spoon the mushrooms onto the pasta. Top with a second pasta sheet. Drizzle over some brown butter from the pasta pan. Garnish with a dill sprig and serve immediately.

Let’s Hear it for the Local Butcher

Last time, I talked about my ever-evolving food philosophy. I spoke about how I’m trying to cut down on meat consumption and switch completely to organic and ethical meat sources. I said that I was buying my meat from Whole Foods and PCC, both of which offer organic meat options. Whole Foods, once a smaller organization, dedicated to local and sustainable foods, is now a huge corporation who uses their “green” focus to overcharge customers for products they are made to feel are morally superior to those from the Safeway down the road. By reading the labels on many of their products, indicating places of origin everywhere from California to Australia, they seem to be far less committed to local products than they once were. Now, this is not to say that Whole Foods is not a store worth going to: they do offer great variety and quality in many of their products, especially fish, meats, and cheeses, and if you know where to look, you can get some local and sustainable products. PCC Markets is much smaller than Whole Foods: they have a total of nine locations, all in the Seattle area. They are similar to Whole Foods in their focus on organics, but they seem to be a lot more dedicated to local products, and a better bet for meat that is local, organic, ethical, and sustainable.

Both of these options have their advantages, but neither can beat Bill the Butcher, the awesome butcher shop that just opened up two blocks away from my place. I’m not going to lie: I am ridiculously excited about this place. Their meat is all very local, organic, ethical, sustainable, and, just as important, of very high quality. I’ve been on the hunt for a place like this: a small, local shop where I can go in and talk to the (knowledgeable) butcher about what I’m buying. I’ve been in there three or four times since I’ve discovered it, and every time I’m greeted by an enthusiastic butcher who can’t wait to tell me about what they’ve got in this week, whether it be the exquisite grass-fed beef tenderloin on display, or the impressive wagyu rib steak that just came in.


Last time I went, the new excitement in the shop was the bag of morel mushrooms that just came in. When I say “just came in”, I don’t mean it came on a big refrigerated US Foods truck with a bunch of other produce from California, Mexico, and Chile. These morels arrived in the hands of a man who goes foraging for them in the nearby woods and the mountains and then goes around, selling them to local shops. The butcher, described him as quite a character.

  Now, can we just pause for a moment and appreciate the awesomeness of this? I went wandering in to my local butcher shop, thinking of buying some flank steak to serve while my mother-in-law was visiting, and maybe something else for the week ahead, and I left with (among other items) wild morel mushrooms. I want to emphasize how vastly different this experience is from anything that ever could happen in a large supermarket, and that includes Whole Foods and PCC Markets. I didn’t take these mushrooms out of a bin in the refrigerated area of the produce section, picking through dried, broken, and old-looking fungi to select the few edible ones. I didn’t toss a plastic-wrapped package of these mushrooms into a cart filled with every other category of food one could imagine. In fact, these mushrooms were not on display or in visible evidence anywhere in the shop. I only learned about them because I had a conversation with the butcher, and he told me about these morels that they had just gotten. The personal connection was necessary in order to even know that this treat was available, and I absolutely love that. It makes it so special, and this is no small triumph. I believe that food should be special, all the time, and I believe that we should have this personal of a connection to it. I believe in the importance of having the story behind where my food has come from. When you buy food from the big, national supermarket, you don’t get the stories behind what you are buying; at places like the local butcher shop, you do. Does the story make the food taste any better? I would argue that absolutely, yes, it does.

 So, along with my flank steak, I left the butcher shop with a few house-made Italian sausages (good enough, by the way, to make you swear off eating any sausages from the supermarket ever again), and a quarter pound of freshly gathered morel mushrooms. A quarter pound may not sound like much, and it isn’t, but (understandably), they were not cheap. The five mushrooms that made up this quantity cost twelve dollars, so I took great care to treat them gently and use them well.

 I sautéed them with the sausage, along with some blanched green beans, shallots, and garlic, tossed with whole wheat spaghetti and parmesan. It was a satisfying meal, perfect for the beginning of spring, made special by the knowledge of the story behind what I was eating.

Whole Wheat Spaghetti with Sausage and Morels
Serves 3-4
¼-½ lb. fresh morel mushrooms, or 1.5 oz. dried morel mushrooms, reconstituted in hot water and drained
½ lb. green beans, rinsed and trimmed
1 lb. Italian sausage, casings removed
1-2 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil, if necessary
1 tbsp. butter
1 medium shallot, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 lb. whole wheat spaghetti
½ cup finely grated Parmesan cheese
Salt and pepper

If using fresh morels, soak them in a large bowl of cold water for 30 minutes to one hour to remove dirt and any critters in the caps. Do not skip this step! Remove mushrooms gently and dry well with several paper towels. When mushrooms are dry, slice them.

While the mushrooms soak, blanch and shock the green beans: bring a large pot of water to a boil. As it comes to a boil, fill a large bowl ¾ of the way with ice water. When the water boils, dump the green beans into it and boil them for 30 seconds to one minute, depending on how crisp you like your beans. Drain the beans and then immediately plunge them into the ice water. Leave them for about five minutes to cool completely, and then drain them again. Slice the beans on a bias, into halves or thirds. Set aside.

Cook the pasta in a large pot of boiling, salted water, and then drain. Meanwhile, heat a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the sausage and brown until cooked through, 8-10 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, remove the sausage to a separate dish and tent with foil to keep warm. Add olive oil to the hot pan or remove dripping as necessary to equal two tablespoons of fat in the pan. Add the butter and let it melt. Add the mushrooms and sauté until browned and softened, 4-5 minutes. Season generously with salt and pepper, remove from pan, and set aside.

Reduce heat to medium, and add olive oil, if necessary, to equal one tablespoon of fat in the pan. Add the shallots and sauté until beginning to soften, and then add the garlic. Sauté one minute, then add the green beans. Sauté another minute, then return the sausage and mushrooms to the pan. Stir to combine, and then add the cooked spaghetti to the pan. Toss for a couple of minutes until all ingredients are well combined and heated through. Remove skillet from heat, and stir in the Parmesan. Season to taste with salt and lots of freshly ground black pepper.

A Simple Recipe

If it seems like it has been a little longer than usual since my last post, that’s because it has. You can blame a certain important international sporting event that has been going on for the past two weeks in my home country that has made me a captive to my television set. Life is back to normal now, though, and I want to share a dish with you that I made, incidentally, on the night of the opening ceremonies of said international sporting event. First, a little about the recipe’s source.Mark Bittman has been a favorite food writer of mine for quite some time. I follow his blog and I am a big fan of his book Food Matters. Bittman has also published an impressive number of cookbooks, many of which I have browsed and used. This particular recipe came from a book of his called Kitchen Express. It contains 404 recipes, organized by season. What makes this book unique is how the recipes are written: you won’t see lists of ingredients, precise instructions, or exact measurements anywhere. Each “recipe” is a short paragraph, giving general guidelines on what to do and how much of each ingredient to use. For example, here’s the recipe for “West Indian Pork Kebabs”:

Heat the broiler. In a bowl, combine some minced garlic, about a half teaspoon of ground allspice, a pinch of nutmeg, some fresh thyme leaves, a chopped small onion, and the juice of a lime. Toss this mixture with about a pound of pork shoulder cut into one-inch cubes. Thread the pork onto skewers and broil for about six minutes or until cooked through, turning to brown all sides evenly.
-Bittman, Mark. Kitchen Express. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2009. p 99.

Some cooks may not like this style, may even object to it, in fact, on the basis that these little paragraphs don’t constitute recipes. However, I happen to like it quite a lot. These are not recipes to be meticulously followed, never wavering from the directions given in black and white. These recipes are guidelines as, really, all recipes are. But by presenting his recipes in this format, Bittman seems to be encouraging his readers to experiment, to use these recipes as inspiration, rather than gospel.I put this concept to good practice when I made “Linguine with Butter, Parmesan, and Sage”, a simple classic of pasta tossed with sage-infused browned butter, a little pasta cooking water, and a bunch of freshly grated parmesan. I made a few simple changes: I used garlic and basil pasta from Trader Joe’s, and I added cubed, roasted butternut squash to the mix.The dish came out well, though I would make a few slight changes the next time I make it. I would definitely use plain linguine rather than the garlic and basil infused variety I tried this time. The flavor of the pasta took away from the delicate, nuttiness of the browned butter and the aromatic sage. Also, I would add less cooking liquid at the end than I did this time. I managed to actually water the whole thing down more than I’d like, so I’d be more careful with that the next time. All in all, though, a tasty, simple pasta dish to curl up with in front of an exciting television event. (Hint: the Oscars are on Sunday!)
I like that Bittman challenges his readers to play with his recipes by presenting them in such a basic, stripped down way. When directions are more precisely given, it is more intimidating to waver from them. So while some cooks may feel thrown into the deep by a book like this one, I hope that they will take a chance on it and use it as an opportunity to be creative, and use a recipe as inspiration for a masterpiece of their own.In honor of Bittman, I will attempt to describe my version of his recipe as clearly and efficiently as he does.

Linguine with Butter, Parmesan, and Sage
Adapted from Mark Bittman’s Kitchen Express.

Peel, seed, and cut a medium butternut squash into ½” cubes. Toss with a couple tablespoons of olive oil and some salt and pepper, and roast in a 400 F oven until browned, 25-30 minutes. Cook linguine in salted, boiling water until al dente and reserving a couple ladles of the cooking liquid. Meanwhile, melt three tablespoons of butter, then add a few handfuls of sage leaves over medium-high heat. Cook until the sage leaves shrivel and the butter has begun to brown. Add the cooked pasta to the pan along with a third of a cup of the reserved liquid. Toss and cook about a minute longer, adding more cooking liquid if the pan gets dry. Toss in the roasted squash and a few handfuls of freshly grated parmesan cheese. Season to taste with salt and lots of freshly ground black pepper.

(A New) Mac and Cheese

There are a number of North American comfort food classics that I think nearly everyone has a favorite version of that they believe is the only “real” version of the meal. Trust me, I’ve seen it: arguments beginning over whether meatballs should be made with beef or pork, fistfights breaking out over whether or not there should be peas in shepherd’s pie, and friendships nearly destroyed over whether or not cream cheese should be added to mashed potatoes.

All right, I may be exaggerating slightly, but I know that even as someone who loves to try new recipes and have plenty of variety in my diet, there are certain foods that I can never quite enjoy as much as when they are made the way I like, the way I grew up eating, the way that I, in my heart of hearts, believe is the “right” way.

One of those foods is macaroni and cheese. I like it baked with breadcrumbs on top. I like it made with a mild cheddar cheese. I like it made with a basic béchamel sauce. There are about a million and one ways to make mac and cheese, but I never liked it better than when it was made in this most simple and basic way. Until now.
The September 2008 issue of Bon Appétit had this fantastic macaroni and cheese recipe that I now can’t get enough of. It’s still fairly simple, and incorporates many of the things that I love about my “original” mac and cheese: the breadcrumb topping is still there, only now it’s in the form of panko sautéed in butter with chopped parsley stirred in; the base of the cheese sauce is still a béchamel, only it is started off with some crisped pancetta and sautéed onion; the cheese is still cheddar, only this time a sharper version is used and combined with parmesan, and—and this is the real key to the brilliance of this dish—mascarpone. The mascarpone helps balance out the sharpness of the cheddar and parmesan, and also adds an incredible richness to the sauce.
The rest is done just as I’ve always done it: combine the sauce with cooked macaroni (shells work well here too), top with the panko, and bake for about thirty minutes.
We had this on a Wednesday night with Caesar salad, and though the macaroni and cheese was not the precise version I had been loving for years, it was true comfort food that I’m sure I’ll love for years to come.
Mac and Cheese with Pancetta
From Bon Appétite, September 2008
Makes 10 servings (I always halve this recipe)

8 tbsp. butter, divided
4 oz. thinly sliced pancetta, coarsely chopped
1 cup finely chopped onion
3/4 tsp. dried crushed red pepper
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 cup flour
3 1/2 cups (or more) milk
2 1/2 cups coarsely grated sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese
1 8- to 8.8-ounce container mascarpone cheese
1/2 cup chopped Italian parsley
1 lb. orecchiette, or large elbow macaroni

Melt 1 tbsp. butter in large deep skillet over medium-high heat. Add pancetta; sauté until crisp, about 5 minutes. Add onion, sauté until tender, about 5 minutes. Add crushed red pepper and garlic, stir 1 minute. Stir in 3 tbsp. butter, allow to melt, then add flour and stir 1 minute. Gradually whisk in 3 1/2 cups milk, simmer until thick enough to coat spoon thickly, stirring frequently, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Whisk in cheeses. Whisk in more milk by 1/4 cupfuls until sauce is thick but pourable. Season with salt and pepper.

Melt 4 tbsp. butter in large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add panko and stir until very light golden, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Stir in parsley.

Preheat oven to 350 F. Lightly butter 13x9x2-inch glass baking dish. Cook pasta in large pot of boiling salted water until just tender but still firm to bite, stirring occasionally. Drain well. Return pasta to pot. Add warm cheese sauce, toss to coat. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer mixture to prepared baking dish. Sprinkle crumb mixture evenly over. Bake until heated through and topping is golden brown, about 30 minutes.

Room for Improvement: Spinach and Ricotta-Stuffed Manicotti

I think that everyone has those experiences of culinary euphoria when you love everything about the dish you’ve just made, and also those experiences of culinary dismay when the dish you’re making becomes a total disaster and ends up in the garbage. But there are also those times when what you’ve made is not a disaster by any means, but it’s also not all that great. It’s just kind of … meh. In other words, ordinary, boring, or bland.

That’s the kind of experience I had this weekend when I decided to make manicotti, an Italian dish that should, by no means, be bland or boring. My Mom has made it for my family many times, and it has always been a favorite of mine. There are different ways to prepare manicotti (large, tubular pasta that you serve stuffed with meat or cheese), but my favorite has always been one of the most basic. Picture this: ricotta-stuffed manicotti baked in a tomato sauce and topped with mozzarella cheese. Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Well, it was this mouthwatering image that prompted me to snatch the box of manicotti pasta from the shelf at the grocery store and add it to my cart. I had ricotta in the fridge at home—dinner was looking very good.

So, this was my process: I sautéed some sliced mushrooms in olive oil with garlic and crushed red pepper flakes:Then, I made a sauce with them by adding some tomato sauce, chicken broth, fresh basil, oregano, salt, and sugar. I simmered the sauce for about half an hour:
I will tell you, the sauce was good. There was definitely no problem there—I tasted it throughout the cooking process and I was satisfied with it. The sauce was probably the element on the plate with the best flavor.

For the filling, I combined ricotta cheese with chopped spinach and an egg:
The assembly is pretty straight-forward. A little sauce around the bottom of your baking dish:
With a little help from Andrew, I stuffed the cooked manicotti with the ricotta mixture.
We stuffed them quite full, but not bursting. Then, the manicotti were placed in the baking dish:
… covered with the rest of the sauce:
… and then topped with a sprinkling of grated mozzerella:
So, after baking covered at 350 F for thirty minutes, then uncovered for another ten, I served up plates of this:
Now, like I said, it wasn’t exactly a bad meal. It just wasn’t that great. The sauce was good, but I think where the dish really fell short was in the filling. The ricotta and spinach mixture really tasted bland, and the blandness kind of muted the good flavors of the sauce. It was definitely lacking some seasoning, so I think that next time, I’ll add some Parmesan and some salt and pepper. Or maybe you have some better ideas? I’d love to hear your suggestions.

A Culinary Adventure in Creation: Curried Coco-Mango Scallops Fettuccini

Take some fresh bay scallops I picked up on a whim, an organic mango I bought because the price was so good, some leftover coconut milk from when I made coconut rice, and a bunch of coriander that I forgot to add to the dinner I made Monday, and what do you get? A tasty culinary invention that I like to call Curried Coco-Mango Scallops Fettuccini. Now, that’s a mouthful, no pun intended. OK, I lied, pun totally intended.

I have to admit, when I’m in an inventive mood and I decide to cook something without using a recipe, I usually hesitate to do anything too outside of the box in terms of ingredients or flavor combinations. Sure, I’m not afraid to take a recipe and play around with the ingredients and directions to the point that it pretty much becomes new recipe, but I’m talking about when I don’t even peek at a single cookbook, magazine, or website before coming up with something I cook. I’ll often take a well-known dish, such as lasagna or carbonara and make my own version, but it is rare that I invent a totally new dish. This time, I decided to take a few more risks, and they certainly paid off.

This particular entrée was born of a number of ingredients I just happened to have around and I wasn’t sure what to do with. In addition to those listed above, I also had some panko, a lime, fish sauce, and some parsley that I wanted to use up.

I poached the scallops quickly in boiling water, then set them aside (I found they were easier to keep tender this way than sautéing them):The coconut milk, the fish sauce, and the lime were simmered in a sauce along with some chicken broth, curry powder, ground coriander, ground ginger, soy sauce, and butter.
I sautéed the mango with scallions, garlic, and crushed red pepper flakes in olive oil:
Then, the sauce was added to the mango mixture:
…along with the scallops, some chopped cilantro and some cooked fettuccini. I tossed it all together:
I also sautéed some panko with some chopped parsley and butter until the panko was lightly browned:Finally, I served the pasta into shallow bowls, and topped it with the panko. You can add a couple of sprigs of coriander for garnish if you’re feeling kinda artsy:
I’ll bet it would also be nice to serve each bowl with a couple of lime wedges, but I didn’t have another lime leftover to try that with.

All right, so sure, I’m not the first to combine mango and scallops, and coconut and curry is a very popular flavor combination. In fact, I don’t think that anything I have done to make this dish is totally new, and I’m certain that every decision I made and step I took to create this meal was influenced by recipes I have followed before. But what I can claim as my own is the combination of the specific ingredients I chose, steps I took, and ingredients I used to make this very dish. Creating something is an exciting, life-affirming experience, even when you are creating something as simple as tonight’s dinner. And because no matter what’s going on in your life, you have to eat every day, creating a meal is an experience you can have every day. And this is one of the many reasons why I love cooking: it allows me to be creative over and over again in a way that is productive and can be shared with the people around me. So I encourage you to try this recipe (because it’s delicious), but I also encourage you to come up with one of your own. It’ll make your day.

Curried Coco-Mango Scallops Fettuccini
Makes about 2 large servings.

½ lb. of bay scallops (the small ones)

½ cup chicken broth
1 lime, juiced, halves reserved
1 ½ cups coconut milk
2 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp. fish sauce
1 tbsp. curry powder
1 tsp. ground coriander
2 tsp. ground ginger
2 tbsp.+3 tbsp. butter

½ lb. Fettuccini
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 mango, peeled and diced
1 large garlic clove, minced
2 scallions, white and green parts chopped
1 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
¼ cup chopped fresh cilantro, plus extra for garnish

1 cup panko (Japanese bread crumbs)
2 tbsp. finely chopped fresh parsley

Boil water in a large pot, salt it, and fill a large bowl with cold water. Place your scallops in a fine-mesh metal strainer and submerge in the boiling water for 90 seconds. Remove the scallops by removing the strainer and submerge them immediately into the cold water to prevent further cooking. Test for doneness by cutting a scallop in half: it should be creamy white, and no longer translucent (it’s ok if there is a little translucency in the very center). Place scallops in a separate bowl, cover, and refrigerate. Reserve ¼ cup of the scallop poaching water.

In a saucepan, bring the chicken broth to a simmer. Add the following seven ingredients (including the juiced lime halves) and the reserved scallop poaching water and stir to combine. Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to low. Simmer for about twenty minutes, until it reduces by about a quarter and thickens slightly. Swirl in 2 tablespoons of butter.

Meanwhile, cook the fettuccini according to package directions. When the pasta has been added to the water, heat the 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the mango and cook for two minutes, until the outside has started to soften. Mix in the garlic, scallions, and red pepper flakes and cook until the garlic is fragrant, about a minute.

Remove the lime halves from the sauce, then add the sauce to the mango mixture. Stir in the scallops, the cilantro, and then the cooked fettuccini. Toss to combine. Cook on medium-low heat until the scallops are heated through, 1-2 minutes.

While the scallops are reheating, melt the remaining 3 tablespoons of butter in a small pan over medium heat. Add the parsley and panko and cook, stirring often, until the panko has browned slightly, about 2 minutes.

Serve the pasta into shallow bowls and top each with about a handful of the panko and a couple of sprigs of cilantro.