What do a Zia, a Pope, and an Elf have to do with Today’s Pasta? (Part 2)

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Ché bella Zia!

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As was mentioned yesterday, today is the 90th anniversary of my Zia’s birth! Last Saturday, some 2 dozen Bartolini gathered at the home of one of her Grandsons for a surprise party in her honor. (Very heavy emphasis on the “surprise.”) The food was delish; the champagne chilled and plentiful (just how I like it); and the highlight of the evening was her Son’s slide show of family photographs. It was a wonderful night for this very special Lady and Matriarch of the Bartolini Clan. She deserves no less!

Now, back to our story …

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2 Pieces of the Puzzle

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Yesterday, I recounted my favorite story involving my Zia as a means of celebrating her birthday. What’s this? You missed it? Well, click HERE to view yesterday’s post. Once there, you’ll see how Zia and Pope John Paul II are connected. Don’t worry, we’ll wait for your return.

For the rest of you, I don’t expect you to sit idly by while the others catch up. Heavens no! Here’s a musical interlude to occupy your attention while we wait. (Thanks, Cris!)

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(Remember this aria, Zia?)

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Everybody here? Then let’s continue …

When we left our story, Zia and I had just experienced a close encounter of the Papal Kind and were in a taxi being ferried back to our hotel. When we arrived at the hotel, we skipped lunch, preferring to retire to our rooms. We had anticipated a memorable day and this was so much more than that, a truly once-in-a-lifetime experience. A rest was definitely in order — if for no other reason than to allow Zia to re-hydrate. Later that afternoon, as was our custom, room service delivered our caffè to Zia’s room. Normally, this is when we would have planned our dinner and evening. That night, however, we decided to “stay close to home” and made an early reservation at a restaurant just down the street from where we were staying.

Not that much later, we were seated at the restaurant, our appetites still nowhere to be found. Now, one thing you should know about my Cara Zia is that she loves pasta every bit as much as I do. When we dined, we always enjoyed a primo piatto of pasta of some sort before ordering our secondi and contorni. So, absent an appetite, we did what came naturally: we ordered pasta.  Not so coincidentally, that pasta just happens to be today’s recipe, Spaghetti alla Carbonara.

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Spaghetti alla Carbonara

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Mom first prepared this dish for me when I was in my teens. She told me a legend that its name was derived from the coal miners that worked in the mines that surround Rome. As they ate their lunch, which often consisted of a plate of pasta, coal dust fell from their clothes and on to their plates. The dish’s ample use of black pepper is an homage, of sorts, to those miners and their lunches.

The version Mom served me usually contained bacon, although prosciutto was sometimes substituted, albeit rarely. Pancetta just wasn’t something that Mom and Zia used in their cooking. Remember, many of the Bartolini dishes began with a battuto of onion, garlic, parsley, and salt pork. There was no need for pancetta, too. As my experience as a cook grew, however, I began to use pancetta more frequently when I prepared this pasta.

Back in Rome, Zia and I noticed that this pasta was made with guanciale, something that was an unknown to me. Our waiter explained that guanciale comes from the pig’s jowls and, like pancetta, it’s cured but not smoked. Although now used throughout Italy, our waiter went on to explain that it is still most commonly used in Rome and its surrounding district of Lazio. Well, we needed no further urging. Zia and I ordered the Spaghetti alla Carbonara and so began my love affair with this cured meat. Unfortunately, it would take me 10 years to find a source for guanciale in my hometown but that’s a story for another day. Even so, in my mind, Spaghetti alla Carbonara will be forever linked to Zia and Pope John-Paul II.

OK. So far I’ve explained the connection between Zia and the Pope and how, on the day of their meeting, we dined on today’s pasta, Spaghetti alla Carbonara. Get ready, kids. Here comes Santa Claus!

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No, that reindog isn’t Max.

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In the years following that momentous day in St Peter’s Square, I’ve prepared Spaghetti alla Carbonara countless times. It is one of the few dishes I prepare using spaghetti because it’s just not my favorite form of pasta. You see, lacking the means to create this thin, round-shaped pasta, I had to rely on manufactured spaghetti. As you know, I prefer homemade pasta over pretty much all manufactured types. Still, when it came to this tasty dish, I gladly bought spaghetti and never thought twice about it. This all changed 3 years ago, almost to the day.

One afternoon, Martha Stewart was promoting a new attachment for a well-known stand mixer. This piece of equipment worked much like an extruder, forcing dough through interchangeable plates, creating macaroni, fusilli, rigatoni, bucatini, and, you guessed it, spaghetti. Later that day, I spoke with a good Friend (aka my Traveling Companion) and mentioned this pasta-making wonder of modern technology. A year later he would become a member in high standing of my blog’s tasting crew and, at this time, he had already been the beneficiary of many of my dishes and, well, experiments. He understood full-well the ramifications of this piece of equipment. Our conversation ended and that was the end of that, as far as I was concerned — or so I thought. About a week later, much to my surprise, UPS delivered the pasta maker. In its packaging was a card from Santa, wishing me a Merry Christmas. I called to thank my Friend but he denied having anything to do with it — a denial he maintains to this very day. Now, I’ve no reason to doubt my Friend or his word. If he maintains that Santa did, indeed, send me a gift, who am I to disagree? I would just like to point out, however, that he is the Elf holding the reindog in the picture above. Just sayin’…

There you have it. This is how my Zia, a Pope, and an Elf all helped to bring you today’s Spaghetti alla Carbonara. All that’s left to do, aside from presenting the recipe, is to say,

“Buon Compleanno, Cara Zia!”

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Spaghetti alla Carbonara Recipe 

Ingredients

  • 1 lb spaghetti
  • 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
  • 4 oz. guanciale, ¼ inch dice (pancetta, prosciutto, bacon, or ham may be substituted)
  • 1 or 2 cloves of garlic, sliced
  • 3 eggs, beaten
  • 1 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese – separated
  • ½ to 1 tsp freshly cracked black pepper
  • reserved pasta water
  • Parmesan or Romano cheese for garnish/serving

Directions

  1. Warm a large pasta serving bowl.
  2. Bring a large pot of heavily salted water to boil. Add the spaghetti and stir.
  3. Check the spaghetti package’s cooking instructions. You’ll want it to be 2 minutes shy of al dente when the rest of the ingredients are ready.
  4. Add half of the cheese to the 3 eggs and beat well to be rid of any lumps.
  5. In a large, deep frying pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the pancetta and brown, rendering all the fat. Do not over cook.
  6. Add the garlic and sauté for about a minute.
  7. While the garlic cooks, reserve a cup of pasta water, drain the pasta, and add the pasta to the frying pan.
  8. Continue cooking the pasta in the oil for 2 minutes, heating it thoroughly.
  9. Pour the frying pan’s contents into the warmed serving bowl. Add the egg and cheese mixture in a slow, steady stream, stirring constantly to prevent the eggs from scrambling. Once fully coated, add more cheese, the pepper, and as much pasta water as necessary to create a creamy sauce.
  10. Serve immediately with plenty of grated cheese and cracked black pepper available at the table.

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Notes

For so few ingredients, this is a relative tricky dish to prepare. If not done properly, the pasta will not be hot enough to cook the eggs, raising the possibility of salmonella. To eliminate that risk, I only use pasteurized eggs when making this dish. On the other end of the spectrum, it is very easy to “scramble” the eggs rather than create a sauce. You can limit this risk by mixing the pasta and egg mixture off the heat, in a warmed bowl, and/or by adding a little of the hot pasta water to the egg mixture before it’s added to the pasta. This will, in effect, temper the eggs a bit. No matter how you do it, remember to keep the pasta hot and to work fast.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

It was just about a year ago when I shared the Bartolini recipe for making sausage. Mild compared to most spicy sausages, ours depend upon garlic, white wine, and salt & pepper for flavoring. Consider them a platform on which to build your own sausage. Paprika, red pepper flakes and fennel seeds will change them up a bit, as will marjoram, mint, and oregano. Though these days we tend to form patties more often than sausages, the post is nonetheless chock full of sausage making information. Feel free to ask any questions that may arise. You can view the post by clicking HERE.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you … 

Merluzz’ al Forno

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What do a Zia, a Pope, and an Elf have to do with Today’s Pasta?

I thought that the combination of last week’s photo with this post’s title might capture your attention and, now that they have, I’ll waste none of your time.

First off, the Kitchens are now open again and I hope everyone’s Holiday and week went well. Thank you all for leaving Holiday wishes and “Likes” during my absence. You see, tomorrow is my Zia’s 90th birthday and I was in Michigan last Saturday for her surprise birthday party. (Happy Birthday, Bella!) What does this have to do with the riddle in the title? I’ll get there. Relax. In fact, grab yourself something to drink. A little Vin Santo would be appropriate.

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As one would expect, during a celebration so grand as a 90th birthday party, stories are told involving the honoree and any number of the guests. My story, my favorite “Zia Story”, is one I’ve saved for just this occasion. My family and friends have heard it countless times, bless their hearts, and now it’s your turn.

During Mom’s illness, there were many evenings during which Zia and I passed the time chatting while watching television. Very often, my travels in Italy were the topic of discussion. I had tried, a number of times, to get Mom to come with me but her fear of flying was too great. Zia had no such fear and many of our evening chats ended with, “Well, maybe someday …”

After Mom passed, I continued to go to Michigan to help settle her affairs, as one might expect. During one of those trips. Zia and I decided that we could both use a little vacation and a trip to Italy was planned. The tragedy of 9/11 delayed our holiday and we left for the Old Country the following March. We spent a few days in Venice before taking a train to Florence. A few days after that and we were on a train heading for Rome.

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The Grand Canal of Venice

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Oops! Forgive me. I’m getting a little bit ahead of myself. Before leaving the States, I spoke with a “regular” at the bar who was employed by American Express. (This is when AmEx still employed thousands of agents to handle all of your travel needs.) He suggested that we attend the Pope’s public Mass, conducted every Wednesday in St. Peter’s Square. I agreed and he made the necessary arrangements. Later I called the number he supplied and was told where in Vatican City to fetch our tickets. Being that Zia would be in a wheelchair — the day would be far too long and arduous for her to remain on her feet — the woman explained that we would be seated “off to the side with the other disabled.”  After Mass, she continued, the Holy Father would turn to give us all “a special blessing.” I was quite pleased and we were all set to go. Now, back to our story …

We arrived in Rome on a Thursday. There’d been a transit strike that day and we were lucky to get out of Florence. Over the next few days, we toured the Eternal City. Having been to Rome a few times, I made sure that we didn’t miss a church, museum, or marble chunk of ancient Rome. We sipped caffè on the Via Veneto, tossed coins in the Trevi Fountain, got stiff necks in the Sistine Chapel, and never met a gelato we didn’t like. We saw — and did — it all. On Tuesday, we travelled to Vatican City, picked up our tickets, and spent the rest of the day sight-seeing. After breakfast Wednesday morning, we hailed a taxi and headed back to Vatican City to watch Pope John-Paul II celebrate Mass.

By the time we got to St. Peter’s, the crowd had already begun to gather. For security purposes, the Square was cordoned off and everyone formed a queue to the right, walking along the colonnade. With me pushing Zia in her wheelchair, we joined them and it really wasn’t long before we got to the head of the line where metal detectors waited. A Swiss Guard motioned for us to leave the line and to use a detector reserved for people in our circumstance. Suddenly we were “special,” though we’d yet to realize just how much.

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The Ponte Vecchio of Florence

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After passing through the metal detector, we rolled alongside of the throng, passing across the front of the Square. The Altar sat atop a stage directly to our right and the Square, now filling with people, was to our left. When we got to the end of the stage, the Faithful turned to the left to finish circling the Square before being allowed to enter the viewing area from the back. Not us, however. Just before we were to turn, one of the Swiss Guards motioned for us to come to him.  We had to cross through the people and once we neared the Guard, he unhooked a velvet rope and indicated that we were to go that way. (See? “Special.”)  Alone, we made our way down a passageway, wondering all the while what was going on. At its end we had no choice but to turn to the right and, this time there was a ramp that ran parallel to the passage we had just traversed. Once we started up that ramp, it became clear that we were headed to the stage where the Altar stood.

Dumbfounded, we arrived at the top of the ramp not knowing which way to turn or what to do. Before us was St Peter’s Square, filling with people, and to our left was the Altar in the center of a stage that had been divided into large sections, some with seats. A gentleman in a gray tux with tails motioned for us to come to him and he positioned us in a section to the right of where the Altar stood.  I was given a chair and sat next to Zia in her wheelchair, The Pope would say Mass directly in front of us. Across, on the other side of the Altar, some newlywed couples sat, still dressed in their wedding finery. To their side were children, some of whom had apparently recently received their First Holy Communion. The view from that side was partly blocked by sound and lighting equipment. For reasons that would soon become clear, our view had no such obstructions. No one, save the Cardinals that attended him, would have a better view of that Mass than did Zia on that day. Needless to say, I was in a state of utter disbelief and Zia, wiping away tears, thanked me profusely. But wait, there’s more.

After what seemed like an eternity, we could hear a roar rising from the crowd. At the other end of the Square, the Pope could be seen riding the Pope Mobile through the Faithful. A few minutes later, he was riding up a ramp, passing between us and the Altar, naught but a few feet separating us. Had we left Vatican City right then, Zia would have been one very happy Bartolini — but there’s still more to this tale.

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The Pope said Mass a mere 20 feet before us and the service took a little longer than one might expect, for he delivered his sermon in three languages, Italian, English, and Polish. And all the while Zia tearfully thanked me. It was near the end of the Mass when things really got interesting.

I was standing for the service’s final prayers when another man dressed in a gray tuxedo with tails indicated that he wanted me. He was standing behind the Altar, out-of-sight of the congregation, and as I stepped forward, all I could think was that this cannot be good. As I’ve said many times since, if I could have found a way to hide, to ‘blend in”, I surely would have. But when you’re one of the few standing on a stage in an area meant for wheelchairs, you’re a tad bit conspicuous. With no place to hide, I stepped forward and he immediately made it clear that he wanted me to push Zia. So, I pushed my bewildered Zia the 20 or so feet towards him and, as I did, others in wheelchairs began to queue up behind us.  When we got to him, he turned her chair so that we were facing the crowd and we then realized what was in store. About 15 feet before us was another similarly attired gentleman who began to wave us on. Our gentleman gave me a shove and suddenly we were leading a procession to meet Pope John-Paul II.

Poor Zia. By the time we reached the “waving man”, the two of us were a mess. Zia was sobbing and I frantically searched the clouded sky, fully expecting my death by lightning bolt. We turned to the left and there, 5 feet before us, stood His Holiness who, at this point in his life, was quite frail. Dressed in his familiar white robes, he stood, hunched over, facing away from us. We approached and, as if Cecil B. DeMille was in control of the lighting, the sun burst through the clouds. Pope John Paul turned to face us and we were both struck by how blue his eyes were, especially when contrasted against his pale complexion and now gleaming white vestments. “Stunning” does not begin to describe the effect. Shock turned to awe as he smiled, grabbed Zia’s hand, and blessed us. Within seconds, we were on our way towards another waving man who directed us to an “exit ramp.” Soon we were  heading back to the Square and we decided that we’d leave immediately. Speaking for myself and myself alone, never was the phrase “getting the hell out of here” more appropriate.

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The Colosseum of Rome

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We reached the bottom of the ramp and through the corridor we rushed. When we re-entered the Square, there, on the 2 Jumbotrons for all to see, was a photo of our meeting the Holy Father, Zia in tears and me looking like a deer in headlights.  No, we do not have that picture. We were asked if we wanted a picture taken when we were first situated on the stage but we misunderstood, thinking he was going to take a picture of us seated there. Remember, we didn’t know that we were going to actually meet the Pope.

With our ginormous faces looming above, I quickly pushed Zia through St. Peter’s Square and out on to the street. Virtually no one else had left yet but then again few, if any, had received the “full Papal Treatment” that we had already experienced.  So, with little competition, we easily hailed a cab and within minutes were on our way back to our hotel, all the while Zia continued to wipe away tears as she thanked me.

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And this is the end of Part I. You’ve now learned how Zia and Pope John-Paul II are connected — he is now her “Papa John” — and tomorrow Santa’s role will be revealed. All 3 of them, as you’ll learn, have a part to play in bringing you that dish of pasta pictured above.

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A Thanksgiving Wish

The Bartolini Kitchens have closed for the Thanksgiving Holiday and weekend. We wish our American Friends a wonderful Holiday and may Everyone enjoy the rest of the week.

The Kitchens will reopen next week with not one but two posts.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Riddle me this …

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The Bartolini Have Left The Building!

Yes, it’s true. The Bartolini kitchens have moved — for today only.

Recently, a blogger buddy, Jed, asked if I wouldn’t mind stopping by his place, sports-glutton.com, while he was away covering the AT&T Pro Am at Pebble Beach. Well, if there’s one thing you should know about this Bartolini, besides his undying love for pasta and intense hatred for spiders, is his fondness for travel. So, when Jed asked me to come for a visit, I couldn’t say “Yes!” fast enough. And I must say I love being here.

First and foremost, Jed’s is a blog about sports and sporting events. If something is happening within the World of Sports, Jed will take us there, not only reporting the event but explaining its significance in “the big picture.” This would be more than enough to keep most sports bloggers busy but not our Jed. In addition to these reports, Jed shares delicious recipes guaranteed to appeal to the glutton in all of us. Now, Jed understands that there’s more to life besides sports and eating.  So, he offers his critiques and ratings of select beers and wines in his Thirsty Thursday series of posts. And, finally, to help us all start our week off on the right foot, Jed serves up a little Monday Morning Humor each and every week.

Sporting news, tasty recipes, expert advice on beverage selection, and a bit of humor, sports-glutton.com has it all. So, please take this link to see my Pastistio Recipe and then take some time to look around and check out sports-glutton.com. You will not be disappointed.

Thanks, Jed, for giving me this opportunity to fill-in for you, even if only for a day. Oh! I almost forgot. It looks like someone broke into your wine cellar last night and stole a few bottles. They must have been real professionals because Max didn’t move all night long. Gotta run.

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10 Questions

I was recently tagged by Mandy, The Complete Cook Book, and given 10 Questions to answer. This is one time where having insomnia pays off. Rather than spend the night grousing about the poor state of overnight broadcast television, I have this assignment to occupy my attention until I’m ready for bed.

So, with Lucy quietly roosting at my side and Max snoring behind me, let’s get started, shall we?

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1.  Describe yourself in seven words.

A pasta lovin’, spider hatin’, dependable friend.

2.  What keeps you up at night?

Insomnia.

3.  Who would you like to be?

Me. I learned a long time ago that to be happy in this life one has to be happy in one’s own skin.

4.  What are you wearing now?

It’s 4:00 AM. I’m wearing sweat pants and an old shirt. (Quite the picture, eh?)

5.  What scares you?

Spiders … spiders … spiders … and spiders.

6.  What is the best and worst things of blogging?

Sorry to repeat your answer here, Mandy, but you were right on the money. The best thing about blogging is the people one “meets.”  I’ve been showered with kindness, encouragement, and assistance. It really is remarkable and I’m very thankful.

And, like Mandy, I find that blogging is becoming more and more time-consuming.

7.  What was the last website you looked at?

I read a review of the Absolutely Fabulous 20th Anniversary Special.

8.  If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

Be a better proof reader. I can re-read my typed comment 5 times and the instant I hit “Post Comment” I’ll notice the error(s). I’ve left typo-ridden comments across all of WordPress and if I’ve not yet left one on your blog, it’s only a matter of time.

9.  Slankets, yes or no?

No.

10. Tell us something about the person who tagged you.

Mandy was one of the very first people to look in on, and follow, my blog. Her encouraging words and positive comments meant a great deal to this new-comer to the blogosphere. Visit her blog and you might be rewarded with a tasty suggestion for lunch, a bike tour of her hometown, a restaurant-caliber entrée for dinner, or a passage reprinted from the Woman’s Home Companion Cook Book. And when I say “rewarded” I mean that in the very best sense of the word.

Who are you going to tag to join the quiz?

I hope I’ve not “double-tagged” anyone.

  1. Tanya, Chica Andaluza
  2. Marie, My Little Corner of Rhode Island
  3. “Smidge”, Just  A Smidgen
  4. Kathryn, kiwsparks
  5. Jed, Sports-glutton.com

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And by the way, just to be clear, spiders scare me.

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