Category Archives: Main Course (Secondi)

Bourbon & Cola Sauced Ham

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Easter dinner back at the old two-flat was the 4th of the big holiday meals, with Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Day being the other 3. Of course, there was a platter of freshly made ravioli on the table, as well as a beautiful roast. When I was very young, that roast was a baby goat. I don’t remember those meals but I do remember 2 of the goats. You see, the “kid” was brought home live and kept in the basement awaiting execution. After hearing its bleating that first year, I must have been 4 or 5 years of age,  I was warned to stay out of the basement. Warned to stay out of a basement that I was certain contained a gazillion boy-eating spiders? No problem! The following year, again I heard the bleating and again I was told to stay clear. Well, I was a precocious child and knew that I was safe from the spiders if I stayed in the center of the basement, avoiding all corners, walls, and anything hanging from the ceiling. So, when Mom told me to stay out of the basement, I headed down there as soon as she looked the other way. Now, I may have been a precocious boy but I wasn’t one much for clandestine operations. Yes, I went into the cellar. Yes, I saw the baby goat. Yes, I felt Mom standing behind me. Yes, it was a tearful return up the stairs and into my room. No, I  do not remember having goat for that Easter dinner.

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I think it was the next year when our dinner switched from goat to lamb, but lamb’s reign as our Easter dinner’s centerpiece was short-lived. My siblings — one or both — did not care for the meat and Mom prepared something else. The thing is, I can’t remember what it was she served. I was a bit older and, as I’ve said in other posts, my attention was fixated on that platter of ravioli. Everything else on that table was put there to distract the weak-willed, their appetites to be sated by these “lesser” dishes. I, being of strong heart and mind, kept my eyes on the prize, eating serving after serving of the tasty pillows. So, today, when asked what Mom served, I can honestly say is that all I remember is the ravioli.

I started preparing a ham for Easter about 15 years ago. As much as I enjoy a baked ham dinner, I love a good ham sammich and spilt pea soup even more. And you can not have the latter if you don’t make the former. Early on, I baked my ham with pineapple rings and created a glaze with the juices and brown sugar. Then about 5 years ago, I saw ham prepared this way and decided to give it a try. I liked it so much that today it remains the only way that I prepare ham but you needn’t take my word for it.

Four years ago, Max was just about a year old and celebrating his first Easter at my house. With my lovely ham covered in foil and resting atop the stove, I was in the dining room preparing the table. I returned to find Max feasting on the back side of my lovely ham. The front of the ham was carved and Max spent the rest of Easter in his crate. Still not convinced? A year later and it’s now Max’s second Easter. This time, the ham was placed on a counter, back against the wall where Max surely could not reach it. Again, I left the kitchen to tend to the dinner table. When I returned, Max was in his crate — licking his chops. Sure enough, though he could barely reach it, he did manage to score a few bites off of the side of my lovely ham, though he was smart enough to go to his crate before I returned. Again, he spent the rest of Easter in his crate. So, even though he’s never been left alone again in the same room with one, this ham is so good that Max would risk spending Easter in a crate just to have another taste. The facts speak for themselves.

And as for the bourbon and Coke with the ham garnish? It was delicious!

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Bourbon and Cola Sauced Ham Recipe

Ingredients

  • 8 lb (3.6 kg) fully cooked, smoked ham
  • 8 oz. (236 ml) cola
  • 10 oz. (296 ml) bourbon divided
  • 1/2 cup (100 g) light brown sugar – dark may be substituted
  • 1/4 cup (116 g) mustard (See Variations below)
  • 1/2 cup (170 g) honey
  • 1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
  • whole cloves

Directions

  1. Place ham on a counter one hour before you plan to start preparing it. This will remove the chill from the ham.
  2. Lightly score the fat side of the ham, cutting in one direction and then again at a  90˚ angle, creating a diamond pattern. Place a whole clove wherever the cuts intersect.
  3. Pre-heat oven to 325˚ F (163˚ C).
  4. Using a medium saucepan, add 1 cup (236 ml) of bourbon, the cola, brown sugar, mustard, and thyme — AWAY FROM HEAT. Once the ingredients are combined, then heat over a med-low heat, reducing it until it is thick enough to coat the back of a wooden spoon.
  5. Place oven rack just beneath the middle position. Add 1 cup (236 ml) of water and the rest of the bourbon to the roasting pan.
  6. Place the ham, cut side down, in the pan. Insert a thermometer into the ham’s thickest part without touching any bone and baste the ham with some sauce before placing the ham in the oven.
  7. Continue to baste ham every 15 minutes until the ham’s internal temperature reaches 140˚ F (60˚ C) — about 90 minutes.
  8. Remove from oven, place ham on cutting board, tent with foil, and rest for 15 minutes.
  9. Meanwhile, pour pan juices into a grease separator and, after a few minutes, pour off the juices, leaving the grease behind.
  10. Into a small saucepan, add the pan juices and the remaining sauce over a med-high heat. Once it starts to boil, reduce heat to a simmer and reduce the sauce to the thickness of your choosing. Keep an eye on the saucepan lest it boil over.
  11. Once fully rested, place ham on a serving platter, bring to table with bourbon~cola sauce, and serve

Inspired by Tyler Florence, “The Ultimate”, reprinted HERE.

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Variations

The recipe calls for mustard and I’ve used yellow, Dijon, and whole grain mustard when preparing the sauce, all to good effect. My mustard of choice, however, is a Guinness-based, whole grain mustard that I make with a recipe I received from Mandy’s wonderful blog, and, she received it from Celia’s delightful blog. So, for those keeping track, this mustard uses Irish stout and came to my Chicago table from Australia, by way of South Africa. (What, no frequent flier miles?)

Today’s post featured a fully cooked, smoked ham (“City Ham”). I’ve also prepared smoked and partially cooked hams with this sauce, as well. Since both of these types of hams require being heated to 160˚ F ( 71˚C), it will take longer to roast them. So, I take a low and slow approach. I’ll pre-heat the oven to 300˚ F (149˚ C) and tightly tent the ham in its pan. I estimate it will take 15 to 20 minutes per pound to roast and at the 90 minute mark, I’ll start basting every 15 minutes. After 2 hours, having basted it twice, I’ll remove the foil for good and continue basting until the ham has reached the proper temperature.

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Notes 

Though the ham will have a slight glaze by the time it has finished roasting, this is the bourbon, cola, & honey mixture is more sauce than glaze. Frankly, I don’t prepare a ham nearly often enough to experiment with glazes to accompany this sauce. If I were to test glazes, I’d probably start with a honey-whole grain mustard glaze since those flavors are present in the sauce.

No matter the ham or the roasting time required, I prefer putting it into the pan with the cut-side down. Though the first slice may not have the darkened color we’re all accustomed to seeing, I find that slice, as well as the rest of the ham, to be far more moist than a ham roasted on its side.

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So, why bake a ham?

Roast ham, Swiss cheese, baby kale, and whole grain mustard on Ciabatta, with sides of potato salad and deep-fried pickle slices.

Roast ham, Swiss cheese, baby kale, and whole grain mustard on Ciabatta, with sides of potato salad and deep-fried pickle slices.

For the Sammiches and, later, Split Pea Soup (recipe coming)

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It’s déjà vu all over again … 

When I wrote this post 2 years ago, I told of going to high-end groceries if I wanted to prepare the dish and, once there, the price was per clam!?!?! Well, not anymore. I now have a choice of places to buy my clams and all are priced per pound — and linguine with clams has graced my table more than ever. If you have access to fresh clams, you won’t want to miss our recipe. You can see it by clicking HERE.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Preview

Sugo alla Bolognese

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The Lasagna of My People — Lasagna dei Bartolini

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The third week of January is another birthday week for the Bartolini Clan. Nonna’s birthday was January 26th, a date my Cousin shares with her. Not to be outdone, tomorrow, the 24th, is my birthday. It’s not a significant one but, boy, am I getting close! In the past, I’ve tried to pick a dish as a means of celebrating the person and birthday. Well, with that in mind, today I’m going to share what I consider to be one of the jewels in the Bartolini Crown of Recipes: Bartolini Lasagna.

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As I’ve mentioned in prior posts, ours is not a ricotta-filled lasagna. In fact, ricotta isn’t even among the three cheeses used. (I’ve a recipe for a ricotta lasagna and I’ll share it sometime in the future.) This lasagna’s cheese filling is entirely a Bartolini invention, although not the way I had always believed. For years, I assumed that this was one of the recipes that my Grandma had taught her girls. I told my friends that, as well. You can imagine my surprise when, a short while ago, Zia corrected me and explained how this recipe came about.  Years ago — certainly before my memories begin — she & Mom had grown tired of ricotta-filled lasagne and were dissatisfied with those that called for a besciamella sauce. They decided to try something different and, Ecco! Bartolini Lasagna was born. This is a lasagna that is unlike most others and one that family and friends alike thoroughly enjoy.

Speaking of friends, did I mention that this lasagna has therapeutic qualities? Yes, there is that. You see, one of the unfortunate consequences of maturing is that the good health one took for granted before reaching the age of 40 may not be as apparent beyond that age. Things happen and, when they do, oftentimes friends and family will respond with a variety of foods and baked goods to assist in the recuperation. Well, when illness strikes a friend, I hit back with lasagna. That’s right. Bartolini Lasagna. I know that when I’ve been in a similar situation, there were times when eating was, shall we say, problematic. On those occasions when my appetite did return, it often vanished — or worse — by the time I got my meal on the stove. A casserole, however, solves that problem. A serving can be placed in the microwave and served within a few minutes, ensuring the patient receives much-needed calories to fuel the recovery. And what better casserole-type dish is there than lasagna? It certainly has the calories and, by any standard of measurement, Bartolini Lasagna has proved beneficial to each friend’s convalescence. OK, to be fair, our lasagna isn’t comparable to the waters of Lourdes and you certainly won’t find any crutches hanging from my kitchen’s ceiling. Follow our recipe, though, and you’ll have one tasty lasagna. Even Lourdes can’t do that.

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This is normally where I would mention points of concern for the day’s recipe. I really have none for our lasagna recipe other than to mention the noodles used. Today, you can purchase noodles that need to be cooked before use, “boil”, or those that need no prior cooking, “no boil.” Of course, if you prefer, you can make you own — which I would highly recommend.  No matter whose lasagna recipe you follow, using homemade noodles will transform your dish. (A friend once compared my lasagna noodles to pastry.) If you do make your own (see Notes), remember that they only need to be boiled for a few minutes and they’ll be ready for use in your lasagna. If you use “boil” noodles, follow the package directions. Once boiled, you can lay them flat on a baking tray, coating each with a little olive oil, or, lay them flat in a baking dish filled with cold water. Work quickly or they may stick to each other. If using “no boil” noodles, I’ve found that they work better if each is given a quick rinse in hot tap water before being placed in the lasagna dish/pan. Don’t fret if your noodles are a little larger that your baking dish or pan. The exposed edges will crisp during baking and many find that very enjoyable.

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The Bartolini Lasagna Recipe

Ingredients

Tomato Sauce (click on sauce name for recipe)

Cheese Sauce (see Notes)

  • 6 tbsp (85 g) butter
  • 12 oz (1½ pkg) (339 g) cream cheese
  • 2 – 3 tbsp (29 – 44 ml) milk
  • Pecorino Romano cheese, grated

Lasagna

  • Enough cooked lasagna noodles (or “No Boil”) to make 3 or 4 pasta layers (see Notes).
  • mozzarella (sliced or grated)
  • Pecorino Romano cheese, grated

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Directions

Prepare the Cheese Sauce

  1. Place butter, cream cheese, and milk in a microwave proof bowl. Place in microwave and cook, on High, for 3 to 4 minutes, depending upon the microwave’s power.
  2. Remove and whisk until smooth.
  3. Set aside

Assemble the Lasagna

  1. Pre-heat oven to 350* F (177˚ C).
  2. Generously butter a baking dish or non-reactive pan.

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3. Coat the bottom of the dish with tomato sauce.

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4. Add 1 layer of noodles.

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5. Coat the noodles with tomato sauce.

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6. Add ½ or ⅓ of the cheese sauce, depending upon the number of layers,  and spread evenly. Sprinkle with Pecorino Romano.

Repeat Steps 4, 5, and 6 once or twice depending upon noodles used and dish/pan’s depth. (See Notes)

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7. Add a final layer of noodles.

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8. Cover with the rest of the tomato sauce.

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9. Place the mozzarella on top and sprinkle with Pecorino Romano cheese.

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10. Place in pre-heated oven and bake until heated through, 40 – 45 minutes or until top layer of cheese is cooked to your liking. If using sliced mozzarella, once the lasagna has baked for 45 minutes, raise the oven temperature to 400˚ F (205˚ C) and continue until top layer of cheese is done.

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Let rest 15 minutes before serving.

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Notes

I use Mom’s Pasta Dough recipe for making lasagna noodles. This will result in approximately 1½ pounds (680 g) of dough. I used about 14 oz (500 g) of dough to make my noodles for an 11 X 7″ (28 X 18 cm) pan. Now, you can cut Mom’s recipe to make less dough, or, you can do as I do. Roll out the extra dough and use it to make linguine, fettuccine, pappardelle, fazzoletti,  or quadretti.

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Fold, Cut, & Unfurl Pappardelle

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When making homemade lasagna noodles, I roll them by machine until they are a little thicker than what I use for making linguine or pappardelle. If your rollers are at their widest at a setting of 1, then roll your dough up to and including setting 5. If your rollers are at their widest at 10, then roll your dough up to and including setting 6.

Much depends upon the type of noodles you use and the size of the baking dish or pan. If using store-bought noodles, “boil” or “no boil,” you’ll probably only be able to have 3 layers of noodles. If using homemade noodles, you can create another layer, if you wish. This is because store-bought noodles are thicker than those you’ll make by hand.

The amount of cheese sauce prepared in the recipe is intended for use in a 9 X 13″ (23  X 33 cm) baking dish. For that size dish, I estimate about 4 oz (113 g) of cream cheese and 2 tbsp (28.3 g) of butter for every layer of cheese sauce needed. Since I used homemade lasagna noodles, there were 4 layers of noodles and 3 layers of cheese sauce.

For a smaller dish/pan of 11 X 7″ (28 X 18 cm), no matter what kind of pasta or how many layers are created, I use 8 oz of cream cheese (226 g) and 4 tbsp (56.6 g) of butter with a little milk. If you prefer, you can scale back the ingredients, following my example with the larger pan. For me, frankly, scaling back the cream cheese would result in an ounce or 2 of cream cheese left in my fridge, where it will probably spoil before I think of it again. As they say, “In for a penny, in for a pound.” Might as well use all 8 oz and be done with it.

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Variations

While discussing this recipe with Zia this past weekend, I learned that she prepares the cheese sauce differently than Mom did. Where Mom prepared her cheese sauce using butter, cream cheese, and a little milk, Zia only uses cream cheese and milk. She does, however, use enough milk to make up for the amount of butter Mom used. In short, Zia has never used butter in her lasagna while Mom and I’ve never made lasagna without it. Who knew?

As is the case with any lasagna or homemade pasta, you can go green, verde, if you like. When making your dough, add a few tablespoons of cooked, finely chopped spinach. The effect will be to die your pasta dough green. Use as you would any regular pasta dough.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

Not My Mom’s Lasagna

Since today’s post shared a lasagna recipe, I thought I would end with another. Using last week’s Blast from the Past Marinara Sauce, this lasagna features a parmesan besciamella with a layer of mushrooms and another with prosciutto.  Surprisingly light, the flavors within this lasagna are equally delicate. You can check out the recipe by clicking HERE.

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Engineering the Standing Rib Roast

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In the past, I’ve mentioned how my family traditionally cooked porchetta, a fantastic pork roast, on New Year’s Day. To be sure, that is a remarkable main course for a New Year’s Day dinner — but it’s certainly not the only one. A number of years ago, I started serving standing rib roast for my dinner on New Year’s Day. At first, not knowing any better, I prepared it like I would any beef roast and, though the results were good, I was expecting fantastic. In the years to follow, I tried different roasting temperatures and even starting on a high temperature before shutting off my oven and letting the roast sit, undisturbed in the oven for 4 hours. Yes, that roast was cooked well but all the dinner’s side dishes had to be cooked on the stove top because the oven door was not to be opened under pain of poorly roasted meat. After I cooked a second standing rib following that method, I decided I wanted to try something else. Luckily, I stumbled upon a different approach. Analytical.

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Engineers can cook. Who knew?

Engineers can cook. Who knew?

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On another sleepless night — it’s 4:15 AM as I write this, by the way — I went surfing for a way to cook the perfect standing rib roast. I soon came upon a website, Cooking For Engineers, where an analytical approach is used for cooking — or so the site’s header claims. Well, I may not be aware of the analysis, if any, that lead them to this recipe but I do know a perfectly cooked roast when I see one. I have followed their instruction now 4 times and each roast has been roasted evenly throughout. There are no well-done slices at either end or gray area on the edges of each slice, with a medium-rare center.  As you can see in the photos, it is medium-rare throughout. And the best part of it all is that this is one easy roast to prepare. Incredibly so.

Day 1: Tsk. So young

Day 1: Tsk. So young.

One of the keys to this dish lies in the aging of the meat. As much as one week before the dinner, you’ll want to select your roast. Once you get it home, unwrap the roast and place it on a rack, bone-side down, over a baking sheet in your refrigerator, where it will age for at least a day and no more than 7. Don’t be surprised if the aging causes changes in the roast’s appearance. It’s normal for it to darken and to lose from 10 to 15% of its weight, depending upon how long it is aged. According to our Engineer friends, aging will lend a “buttery texture” to the already richly flavored meat. Believe me. You do not want to skip this step.

Day 5: Aged & ready to go.

Day 5: Aged and better than ever.

Once you’ve aged the meat, you’ll need to prepare it for roasting. Remove the roast from the refrigerator and let it sit on the counter top for a couple of hours. For an evenly cooked roast, it must be at room temperature throughout. You may notice some unusually dark spots on the roast. These should be trimmed away. Use butcher’s twine to tie the roast lengthwise, in-between each pair of bones. This will help to ensure that the roast’s shape is maintained during the cooking process. Once the roast has been brought to room temperature, place a roasting pan on to the stove top and begin heating it. When hot, add a little olive oil to the pan. Place the roast into the now hot oil and sear it on all sides, spending about 3 minutes on each side to do so. Pre-heat your oven to 200˚ F (93˚ C). That’s right: 200˚ F (93˚ C).

Remove the seared roast from the hot pan and place a wire rack into the roasting pan. Heavily season the roast with salt & pepper on all sides. Place the roast on to the rack, insert a meat thermometer into its center, away from any bone, and place the roast & roasting pan on to the lowest rack in the oven. Set the thermometer for 125˚F (52˚C) for rare; 130˚F (55˚C) for medium rare; 145˚F (63˚C) for medium. Sorry but you’re on your own if you want to cook a fine piece of beef like this beyond medium.

For roasts under 5 pounds, it should take about 45 minutes per pound to roast. For roasts greater than 5 pounds, it will take between 4 and 5 hours to cook properly. Once your target temperature has been reached, remove the roast from the oven, place it on a cutting board, tent it with aluminum foil, and let rest for 20 minutes. In the meantime, you can deglaze the roasting pan and use the drippings to create a sauce or add flour to make a roux before adding beef stock to make a gravy. Once rested, use your carving knife to first trim the entire roast off of the rib bones. If you prefer, you can also trim off the fatty end of the roast. Once trimmed, slice the roast in however many slices as are needed to serve everyone. Serve with a little horseradish sauce on the side. (Recipe to follow.)

Now, I ask you. Could it be any easier to cook standing rib than to age, season, sear, and roast at a low temperature? Once again, look at the photos. Each time I’ve listened to the Engineers, I served a roast that was evenly — dare I say perfectly? — cooked throughout.

Oh, one more thing. Leftovers. If you’re blessed with an extra slice, it will make a delicious sandwich the next day. Just sauté it in a little butter until heated through and serve on a favorite bun with a bit of horseradish or horseradish sauce.

To make horseradish sauce: combine equal amounts of plain yogurt (Greek pref.) and sour cream. Add horseradish to taste, some brown whole grain or Dijon mustard, a dash or two of Worcestershire Sauce, and salt & pepper to taste. Mix well and set aside. Serve at room temperature.

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Notes

The original recipe specifically mentions to leave the roast uncovered as it ages. I’ve never aged it less than 3 days and certainly not more than 7, as the Engineer states. I’ll replace the fridge’s box of baking soda a day or two before I start the aging process and have never noticed any scent in my fridge. Of course, that just as well might have been the case had I not replaced the box. I guess I’ll never know.

Roasting a piece of meat at a low temperature means that its surface may not color as it would if roasted at a higher temperature. This is why the meat is seared before going into the oven. Just be careful to only sear the meat for 3 minutes per side. Searing it for longer periods will begin to cook the meat on the roast’s inside. Later, when the roast is carved, the end pieces will be cooked more than the rest of the roast, defeating the purpose for roasting the meat this way.

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You can see the original recipe on the Cooking For Engineers website by clicking HERE.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

More gravy, please.

More gravy, please.

Since we’re starting the year off with a beef rib recipe, I’ll use another to end this post. With Winter here and snow having reached as far south as Texas, there are few better ways to heat up the kitchen than with a delicious braise in the oven. These beef short ribs will not only warm your kitchen, their aroma will fill your home like only good comfort food can. Be sure to serve them with mashed potatoes or polenta because you’ll want to take full advantage of that gravy. Click HERE to view the recipe.

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Mom’s City Chicken and Grandpa’s Water Works

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Funny how this Summer has worked out. At its start, I’d planned to continue making cheese with you, sharing some seasonal recipes, posting more ice cream flavors, and sharing photos of “my girls” and their companions in the garden. Suddenly, Labor Day is here and I’ve run out of time. We’ve still not made Italian mozzarella, I’ve a couple of tomato recipes to share, and there’s still a custard-based peach ice cream to make. Oh! Mustn’t forget the cobbler. Fall will just start late this year. To further complicate my schedule, today’s post was reserved for a special pasta celebrating the US Open Tennis Championship. That was before I saw a package of veal at the market. That changed everything.

Last year, Linda posted a recipe for City Chicken on her wonderful blog, Savoring Every Bite.  At the time, I commented that I’d not thought about City Chicken in years. Mom prepared a version but it’s been some 35 years since I last tasted her City Chicken. Had Linda not shared her recipe, who knows when I would have remembered Mom’s? Anyway, after Linda’s reminder, I decided to put City Chicken on the schedule — last Summer! Well, as you know, it never made it but I had every intention of sharing Mom’s recipe this Summer — and then it again got lost. Last week, however, I saw veal cubes at the market and immediately thought of City Chicken. Since it would make a great dish for the coming holiday weekend, Mom’s City Chicken was suddenly on the schedule. Its addition pushed my special tennis pasta back a week and, well, Fall’s arrival, at least on this blog, has been delayed yet another week. By the way, don’t be surprised if Thanksgiving and Christmas are celebrated in one post this year. Hopefully, I’ll then be able to start the New Year sometime in January.

((cue the harp))

Throughout my childhood, Mom served us City Chicken almost exclusively on Wednesday or Sunday, when Dad was home to work the grill. Although I’ve already mentioned The Barbecue, I’ve not talked much of the rest of our yard. You see, the two-flat was built on a vast expanse of land, in the very center of which was the beautiful, privately owned, Lake Bartolini (pictured below, click to enlarge). While we kids frolicked, Dad was likely at The Barbecue, grilling that night’s meal, City Chicken being a family favorite. In the years following the barbecue’s construction in 1959, Grandpa would build a garage with an enclosed patio, attach a grape arbor, and plant his tomatoes on the lawn just beyond The Lake, after the first of what would become yearly land-grabs. (His tomatoes needed more land, always more land.) When The Lake was lost, the much larger and deeper Bartolini Sea, was erected and filled. As we would all come to learn, ripening beefsteak tomatoes can somehow attract errant pool toys, especially whenever Grandpa strolled through the yard. When the Sea gave way to what must have been near tectonic forces, it was replaced by the even larger and more formidable Bartolini Ocean, the last of the series.

OK, that is the official account of the Crystal Blue Waters of the Bartolini, the version you’ll see on the historical markers that dot the area. Here, for the first time anywhere, is the real story.

Grandpa wanted a garden, desperately, and even though Lake Bartolini stood in his way, he would never do anything to disappoint his adoring Grandchildren. No, not Grandpa. His was a problem that would have befuddled Solomon. You can well imagine, therefore, Grandpa’s relief the morning we kids awoke to find Lake Bartolini had been completely drained. Upon close examination, we saw that one side of  The Lake was inexplicably peppered with holes, while the most attentive among us claimed to have overheard our Parents whispering something about buckshot. Grandpa’s subsequent claim that one of us kids was to blame fell on deaf ears. Our Parents, calmly and coolly, bought and built the Bartolini Sea. With walls made of corrugated steel, the Sea glistened just to the West of the where the original Lake once stood. Grandpa got his garden and we kids had a new, buckshot-proof, Sea in which to swim. All went well until that thing about tomatoes attracting pool toys was discovered, much to Grandpa’s great displeasure.

Not but a couple of years after it’s installation, again we awoke to find that our gorgeous swimming hole, the Bartolini Sea, was but a mere puddle. On one side of the Sea, in the corrugated steel, was a gash of not quite a foot long. Bent inward, the steel pierced the Sea’s lining and flooded the yard. Depending upon which Parent asked, Grandpa said that my Youngest Cousin or I did it with the lawn mower. In our defense, I will merely point out that an old push mower was used to maintain the lawns. Even if we teamed up, together pushing that relic and with a 100 foot running start, never could we two young boys get up enough steam to create so much as a dent, let alone pierce, that steel siding. Our wise Parents, though they never determined “the how”, quickly surmised “the who” and soon thereafter we were erecting the bigger, better, and even sturdier Bartolini Ocean. It remained in our yard until it died of natural causes, some years later. Grandpa, too, remained in his garden, ensuring both he and his tomatoes never went thirsty, for years to come.  Though this marks the end of Grandpa’s Water Works, this is hardly the end of his story. Frankly, I’m just getting started.

Now, back to the Present. Mom’s City Chicken couldn’t be any simpler to prepare. Equally sized cubes of veal, beef, and pork are marinated, skewered, wrapped with a rasher of bacon, and grilled. It really is that easy. I don’t give any amounts in the recipe to follow because so much will depend upon how many skewers are to be prepared. You can add, or subtract, spices to the marinade. Just be sure to make enough so that some can be reserved and later brushed on the skewers as they come off the grill. (Something I forgot to do for the photos.) Although the FDA no longer requires pork to be cooked well-done, many still prefer it cooked more than beef or veal. To accomplish this, I always place 3 pieces of meat on each skewer, pork always being the last/top one. As you’ll see in the recipe to follow, this will allow you to keep the pork closest to the fire, assuring it is cooked more than the other meats.

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Mom’s City Chicken Recipe

Ingredients

  • Beef, cut into approx. 1½ inch cubes
  • Veal, cut into approx. 1½ inch cubes
  • Pork, cut into approx. 1½ inch cubes
  • Bacon, 1 rasher for every skewer
  • marinade

Marinade

  • juice and zest of one lemon
  • rosemary, chopped
  • garlic, minced or grated
  • Italian seasoning
  • olive oil
  • salt & pepper

Directions

  1. Add all the marinade ingredients to a bowl, whisk to combine, and set aside, reserving  a ¼ cup for later use. Place the meats into the bowl, mix until coated, and refrigerate for at least one hour or overnight
  2. Soak wooden skewers overnight. (This will prevent their burning during grilling.)
  3. When ready, light the grill.
  4. Using one thick skewer or 2 thin for each city chicken, pierce one end of a bacon rasher, followed by one piece of each type of meat. Be sure that the top piece of meat for each skewer is pork. After the pork is in place, wrap the meats with the bacon and secure its remaining end by piercing it with the skewer(s) tip(s).
  5. Once finished and the grill is hot, shut down part of the grill to facilitate  indirect grilling. Use a rag dipped in oil to grease the grill plate.
  6. Place the skewered meat on the grill with the pork closest to the fire/heat.
  7. Turn the meat after a few minutes, more or less depending upon the grill’s heat. The object is to cook the skewered meat without torching the bacon. The pork, being closest to the fire, will cook faster.
  8. With the meat still very rare, move the skewers directly over the fire/heat. Now the object is to crisp the bacon and to finish cooking the skewered meats. Turn the skewers occasionally to ensure even cooking.
  9. When grilled to your satisfaction, remove to a  platter, brush with reserved marinade, and serve.

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Variations

Although Mom used all 3 meats, you needn’t if you prefer otherwise.  Use whatever meat(s) you like. The same is true for the bacon. I’m sure turkey bacon could be easily substituted.

Mom used 1 short, thick skewer for each of her City Chickens, skewers she got from her butcher. Try as I might, I’ve been unable to find them. Instead, I use 2 of the more readily available long, thin bamboo skewers. Before soaking, I trim off about 4 inches from each, making it much easier to grill them, especially if you’ve a small grill surface.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

Although some have already reached the end of tomato season, many of us are still harvesting the red beauties. One of my first posts featured Mom’s Tomato Antipasti that she made with Grandpa’s tomatoes. This time of year, his vines produced enough fruit to keep both families well-supplied and rarely was an evening meal prepared without tomatoes playing a role. Those who missed it the first time around  can find my post for Mom’s Tomato Antipasti by clicking HERE.

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By any other name …

“Don Juan”

This tour of roses began on one side of my yard with “Opening Night”, a red hybrid tea rose, and ends on the opposite side of my yard with “Don Juan”, a red hybrid tea rose. (Who better to indulge my girls?)

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Friends, Bloggers, and Bartolini! Lend Me Your Orecchiette!

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I don’t know about you but when I “finish” writing an entry, I will return to it, editing and re-editing, right up until the minute it’s posted. Even then, I often make changes to it once it’s been published. A few months ago, in an effort to curtail my madness, I started posting my entries at the same time every Wednesday just to give myself a deadline for these corrections. Why do I mention this?

Well, I’ll be writing this entry before I leave for my visit with Zia and family and it will be posted about the time I’m heading back to Chicago. That means I’ll have a week to look at it with little chance to make corrections because of the sorry state of that area’s internet coverage. (If Dante’s Inferno had included a Tenth Circle in Hell, surely this would have been it.) So, I’m going to keep this post relatively short, hopefully keeping my errors to a minimum and, therefore, saving myself much wailing and gnashing of teeth when I should be spending that time visiting with my Zia.

Last week I showed you how to make orecchiette, an ear-shaped pasta that comes to us from the Puglia (Apulia) region of Italy. At the time, I said I would share today’s recipe, a traditional pugliese dish featuring orecchiette, sausage, and broccoli rabe (rapini). This is another simple dish with the flavors of its 3 main ingredients in perfect balance. Although you can certainly alter the quantities to suit your own tastes, try to keep that balance in mind. The dish also offers a little heat because of the red pepper flakes. If you use a spicy sausage here, you may wish to reduce the amount of these flakes or eliminate them altogether. On the other hand, I use my family’s sausage recipe, which is quite mild, so I add a healthy amount of red pepper flakes to the dish. The rest of the recipe is easy enough to follow but be sure to check out the Variations below if, perish the thought, you don’t care for broccoli rabe.

 *     *     *

Orecchiette with Sausage and Broccoli Rabe

Ingredients

  • 1/2 lb orecchiette pasta
  • 3 tbsp olive oil
  • 6 oz Italian sausage
  • red pepper flakes, to taste
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced or grated
  • 10 oz broccoli rabe, trimmed and coarsely chopped
  • grated Pecorino Romano cheese
  • salt & pepper, to taste
  • 1 cup + a couple tbsp of pasta water

*     *     *

*     *     *

Directions

  1. Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil, to be used to cook the orecchiette. Time the pasta so that it is cooked about a minute shy of al dente, per package instructions, at about the same time that the rest of the ingredients are finished sautéing.
  2. Meanwhile, in a large deep frying pan, heat the olive oil over med-high heat. Add the sausage meat and use a wooden spoon to break the meat into smaller pieces as it sautés.
  3. Once the meat has browned, about 5 minutes, add the onion & pepper flakes and continue sautéing until the onion is translucent, about 5 minutes more.
  4. Add the garlic and cook another minute.
  5. Add the broccoli rabe to the pan with a little pasta water and continue sautéing until rabe is done to your liking.
  6. Drain the orecchiette and add it to the frying pan along with the cup of pasta water, using it to deglaze the pan. Finish cooking the orecchiette in the pan as the “sauce” reduces to the consistency you prefer.
  7. Remove to a serving platter, garnished with grated Pecorino Romano cheese and freshly cracked black pepper. Serve immediately.

Variations

For many, broccoli rabe is just a bit too bitter to be enjoyed as-is. If you find it that way, there are alternatives. In the first place, you might try blanching the vegetable in boiling water for a minute before plunging it into an ice bath. To prevent the oil from splattering, pat the rabe with paper towels before adding it to the frying pan in Step 5 above. If you like, you can save the blanching water, salt it, and use it to cook the orecchiette.

Broccoli, Broccolini, Broccoli Rabe

What if you just don’t like broccoli rabe and no amount of blanching is going to make it palatable for you? Well then, you might try substituting one of its relatives. Pictured above are broccoli on the left, broccoli rabe on the right, and the newest member of the family, broccolini, in the center. Although often called “baby broccoli”or “asparation”, broccolini is actually a cross between broccoli and a Chinese broccoli called kai-lan. Like broccoli, broccolini has no leaves and is not as bitter as rabe. Either cousin would make a great substitute for broccoli rabe in this dish.

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By any other name …

“Midas Touch”

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Beef Short Ribs

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Short ribs weren’t on the menu when I was growing up. No, I had to wait until I was well past my youth, living here in Chicago, to discover them and even then it was purely coincidental. I had just moved into an apartment on The Lake and was checking out the neighborhood one Saturday when I “discovered” a Hungarian restaurant. Having looked at the menu, I was ready to order the paprikash when my waitress announced that the day’s luncheon special was short ribs. I opted for the special and that split-second decision became a life-altering event. For well over a year afterward, I dined there frequently and never sampled the paprikash, but I did order the short ribs every time. I introduced friends to my “discovery” and urged each to try the short ribs. You see, I was in heaven and was happy to share my good fortune with everyone — until  that  day.

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Beef short ribs served over polenta, with grilled asparagus & horseradish sauce

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I was having lunch with a good friend and we were marveling about — you guessed it — the short ribs when the check came. My friend was surprised to see how little our lunch cost and I mouthed the words that I would soon come to regret, “I don’t know how they do it?” During my very next visit to this little gem of a restaurant, we overheard a patron at a neighboring table question the waitress about the restaurant’s future. She replied, assuring them that the restaurant wasn’t going anywhere. At the end of our meal, one of my lunch party, a friend who had come to love the place as much as I, asked the waitress whether the place was closing. Again she said, “No way!”

The following Saturday the place was closed, never to re-open.

In the years since, more than a few of my favorite restaurants have closed, each after I uttered the fateful incantation. Once I realized the power of those words, I did my very best to avoid mouthing them but if you’re going to serve potent margaritas or top-shelf sake at below market prices, well, I can hardly be held responsible. Anyway, through the years, I’ve seen my favorite Chinese, Mexican, and Sushi restaurants all close, not to mention great little diners and hamburger joints. Perhaps the most painful closing of them all was my neighborhood Thai restaurant, which served the best Pad Thai on the planet. I was known as “Mr. John.” Since its closing 8 years ago, I’ve never repeated those powerful words in reference to any restaurant that I’ve liked. (Interesting to note that I have tried to use the magic on restaurants that should be closed as a service to my fellow diners. The fact that these businesses have continued, uninterrupted, mocks me to this very day.) So, aside from ruining the businesses —  and dreams — of a number of immigrant families, just what does any of this have to with short ribs?

Well, once my Hungarian restaurant closed, I took it upon myself to learn how to prepare beef short ribs. Mom, my first resource in such matters, suggested making them like a beef stew. So, my first attempts were cooked in a slow cooker and pretty much looked like a stew. Looking back, my experiences preparing short ribs pretty much mirrors my growth as a cook, such as it was. Over the years, I learned to brown the meat first, make a roux and a sauce, use the vegetables for the braise only, added wine, moved the braise from the slow cooker to a Dutch oven, and, finally, added some balsamic vinegar to the pot. The spices, also,  changed and, somewhere along the way, I began making horseradish sauce. The recipes I share today are the last of a long series.

*     *     *

Beef Short Ribs Recipe

Ingredients

  • 3 – 4 lbs (approx. 1.8kgs) beef short ribs — 6 to 8 rib pieces
  • 2 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 large onion, roughly chopped
  • 2 carrots, roughly chopped
  • 2 celery stalks, roughly chopped
  • 3 cloves garlic, smashed
  • 3 tbsp all-purpose flour
  • 1½ cups red wine
  • 1½ cups low-sodium beef broth
  • ¾ cup balsamic vinegar
  • 3 tbsp tomato paste
  • 3 or 4 fresh thyme stems
  • 2 fresh rosemary stems
  • 1 bay leaf
  • salt & pepper, to taste

Horseradish Sauce – recipe follows

Directions

  1. Pre-heat oven to 325˚F (160˚C).
  2. Heat oil in a Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot with a lid over med-high heat.
  3. Meanwhile, use paper towels to pat dry the short ribs, season liberally with salt & pepper, and place into the now hot oil. DO NOT CROWD. You will probably need to brown them in 2 batches. Once the meat has been placed into the pot, do not disturb for about 3 minutes. Check one to see if it has browned. If so, turn each piece to brown another side, If not, continue cooking for another 2 minutes before checking again.
  4. Brown all sides of each rib before removing them to a platter and repeating the process with the rest of the ribs.
  5. Pour off excess grease, leaving 3 tbsp in the pot. Add the celery, carrots, and onion to the pot and begin sautéing. Season with salt & pepper.
  6. When the onion is translucent and the vegetables have softened, add the garlic and continue sautéing for about a minute.
  7. Add the flour to the pot, stir, and cook for two minutes.
  8. Use the red wine to deglaze the pot. Once finished, add the balsamic, beef stock and tomato paste. Season with salt and pepper and stir well.
  9. Add the thyme, rosemary, and bay leaves. Return the ribs to the pot, bring to a boil, cover, and place in pre-heated oven.
  10. Continue to cook for 2½ to 3 hours or until meat is fork tender and falling off of the bones. Carefully remove the ribs to a platter and cover with foil to keep warm.
  11. Pour the braising liquid through a strainer and place resultant liquid into a grease separator.  Wait a few minutes to allow the grease to rise and then pour off the sauce.
  12. Depending upon your preference, you can
    1. Serve the sauce as is.
    2. Place the sauce into a small pan so that it can be further reduced and thickened.
    3. Add more wine or beef broth and then reduce.
  13. No matter the choice, be sure to taste the sauce to see if additional seasoning is needed.
  14. The sauce may be used to cover the ribs before serving or left on the side.
  15. Serve immediately with mashed potatoes, buttered broad noodles, or polenta, as pictured.

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Horseradish Sauce

Combine equal amounts of plain yogurt (Greek pref.) and sour cream. Add horseradish to taste, some brown, whole grain or Dijon mustard, a dash or two of Worcestershire Sauce, and salt & pepper to taste. Mix well and refrigerate until needed. Be sure to make extra for the cole slaw.

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Pulled rib sammich with horseradish slaw & corn relish

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Notes

I always try to make extra ribs, gravy, and horseradish sauce. Not only are the ribs even tastier the next day, the meat can be pulled apart, similar to what is done with pork, and used with the extra gravy to make sandwiches. The extra horseradish sauce can be used as a dressing for cole slaw to top off the sandwich, as pictured, or as a condiment. If used to dress slaw, you may wish to add more yogurt, sour cream, or a little mayonnaise, to suit your tastes.

Be sure to come back next Wednesday when, as promised, I’ll show you how to make mascarpone.

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Mom’s Boiled Dinner

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Though Italian, through and through, the Bartolini Sisters’ recipe repertoire was anything but restricted to Italian fare. Both Sisters cooked a range of dishes representing many cuisines, and as Mom loved to recall, I was about 6 when I told her that eating at our  house was “an adventure!” You see, it was about that time that Mom had gone to lunch with a few friends, I believe, at what was at the time Detroit’s premier Chinese restaurant. She ordered sweet & sour something-or-other (I don’t remember what), thoroughly enjoyed it, and asked the waiter if she could have the recipe. He agreed and returned a few minutes later with the recipe, which no doubt pleased Mom no end. Later, when the check arrived, Mom was surprised to see a $25.00 fee for the recipe included in the total! (Understand that this was a time when $25.00 was considered a nice sum to win on game shows like “What’s My Line?”. )  Mom, rightly, refused to pay the $25.00, indignantly gave them back the recipe, and vowed to duplicate that meal. And thus began our “adventure.” Starting with the Chun King section of the grocery store, Mom set out to make the ultimate sweet and sour dish. Time after time, she served us the latest version which, to be fair, we kids often thought was OK. Having tasted the original, however, Mom felt otherwise. I remember one specific dinner when her latest attempt fell short of expectations. After one bite, disgusted, she pushed her plate aside and watched as we kids gobbled it down.  The thing I most remember and, frankly, am most proud of, is she never gave up. Laughably, we did eat a couple pretty bad sweet & sour concoctions but she was determined to prove that the restaurant’s food wasn’t all that special and certainly not worth $25.00 per recipe. Truthfully, I don’t think she ever hit pay dirt, at least not while I was living at home, but she did teach me a valuable lesson by her example. So, when I describe the number of tests I’ve run to, say, come up with a cheddar cheese pie crust, or, to find the right level of “heat” in my giardiniera, don’t credit me. Credit Mom.

But I digress …

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*     *     *

Among the many cuisines the Bartolini Girls drew upon, American was first and foremost. Meatloaf, stews, casseroles, and fried foods, among others, were very often served — with a platter of pasta on the side, of course. Mom, in particular, loved a New England boiled dinner and she was sure to serve it a couple of times each year. Today, although I may have added a couple of vegetables to the pot, I keep her tradition alive and prepare a boiled dinner at least twice every year, once in the Spring and again in the Fall.

The recipe that I’m about to share uses quite a few vegetables to form a bed for the corned beef. Even with my 6 quart crock pot, only a couple of cabbage wedges will fit into the cooker and, as a result, I have to make other arrangements for the rest of the cabbage. When there’s about an hour to go before dinner is ready, I place as much sliced cabbage as will fit comfortably into the slow cooker and replace the lid. The rest of the cabbage goes into a covered frying pan, a cup of broth from the slow cooker is added, and then everything is seasoned with salt & pepper, to be cooked over a medium heat. Cooking times will vary, depending upon the amount of cabbage and size of the pan. Try to time it so that this cabbage is finished when the slow cooker’s contests are ready. When ready, combine the two preparations for serving and storing. Of course, the alternative to doing this is to use fewer vegetables but, frankly, that just ain’t gonna happen around here.

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Mom’s Boiled Dinner Recipe

total time: approx.  8.5 hours

Ingredients

  • 1 prepared corned beef, 4 lbs. Do not discard the packing liquid, unless directed to do so by the package directions.
    • enclosed spice packet
    •                     or
    • 12 green peppercorns and 1 tbsp pickling spice.
  • 1 small bag of baby Yukon gold potatoes
  • 1 large onion, cut into about 8 wedges
  • 1 rutabaga, cut into large chunks
  • 1 turnip, cut into large chunks
  • 4 carrots, cut into 2 inch chunks
  • 4 parsnips, cut into 2 inch chunks
  • 2 garlic cloves, diced
  • 1 cabbage, outer leaves discarded, cut into about 10 wedges
  • salt and pepper, to taste
  • water

Directions

  1. About an hour before you begin, remove the corned beef from the fridge and set it on a counter so that it warms slightly.
  2. Place the potatoes, onion, rutabaga, turnip, carrots, and parsnips into the slow cooker.
  3. Sprinkle the garlic over the vegetables and do the same with the spice packet, if any, that came with the corned beef. (If no spice packet, add the pickling spice and green peppercorns.) Season with salt and pepper.
  4. Place the corned beef atop the vegetables and empty the packing liquids over everything. Add water until the slow cooker is about 2/3 full.
  5. Set crock pot to “high” and cook for one hour, turn the meat over, set to “low” and cook for 6 more hours, turning the meat over every 2 hours. Periodically skim the surface to remove any off-color foam, as necessary.
  6. After 7 hours, turn over the corned beef one last time, place the cabbage wedges into the slow cooker, replace the cover, and cook for an additional hour. If you have too much cabbage for your slow cooker, place the surplus into a frying pan, season with salt & pepper, and baste with a cup of broth from the crock pot. Cover and cook over medium heat until ready to be served — 15 to 20 minutes.
  7. After a total of 8 hours, remove the corned beef to a cutting board, slice it thinly, and place it on a platter with the cooked vegetables and cabbage. Serve immediately. Alternately, some people, myself included, prefer that their vegetables be served in a bowl with some of the broth.
  8. When preparing the leftovers for storage, be sure to combine all the cabbage and its cooking liquid with the rest of the vegetables.

Variations

Aside from making one’s own corned beef from beef brisket — something beyond my scope — the only variations of which I’m aware involve the vegetables. Basically, this recipe was Mom’s but I’ve added the turnip, rutabaga, and parsnips. Make the recipe your own and drop or add any vegetables to suit your tastes

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*     *     *

Note

The leftovers from this dinner store well and you can easily use them to repeat the meal, if that’s your wish. As I’ve mentioned, however, I prefer the vegetables served with the broth as a soup. That means that I can use the corned beef for panini, also personal favorites. Pictured above is one such sandwich made with corned beef, Swiss cheese, a little cabbage, and some mustard. It doesn’t get much better than this.

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Trippa alla Stefanina

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There’s no way around it. Today’s recipe is tripe, another within the series of posts which many will find less than appealing, to put it mildly. And, once again, the overwhelming majority of my generation of the Bartolini Clan would agree.  I, myself, being the only exception. Yet, tripe is an ingredient found in most of the World’s cuisines and, when cooked properly, is really quite tasty. Still, many of you may be looking for the nearest exit and, if that’s the case, you may depart HERE. All right then …

Nonna

Trippa wasn’t something Mom ever prepared while I was growing up but it was a dish that the “People Upstairs” made and one that I absolutely loved. Even then, since Zia’s boys would have nothing to do with it, I believe it was usually Grandpa who requested trippa be on that day’s menu. Being that Zia had her own family’s dinner to prepare, the trippa was often made by her Mother-in-law, a woman we kids all called “Nonna”  and whose name was Stefanina. She was a sweet woman and, for my siblings and I, the only Nonna we would ever really know. Since tomorrow would have been her birthday, and yesterday was mine, what better way to celebrate both than by sharing this special recipe? And it is special, as you’ll soon see.

Now, before going further, we need to revisit the 2 flat’s floor plans. You may recall that a stairwell separated my bedroom from our kitchen and the rest of our home. Directly above my room, was my cousins’ bedroom and the stairwell, also, separated their room from Zia’s kitchen and the rest of their home. So, forgetting the stairwell for a moment, my bed was about a 10 feet, in a straight line, from Mom’s stovetop and certainly less than 20 feet away from Zia’s. (Remind me again. Why did I move away from home?)

On those occasions when Grandpa prevailed upon Nonna to make a batch of trippa, the aroma of some as yet unknown delicacy, wafting down the stairs, was my siren call. A quick run up the stairs and a stealth bomber-like cruise through their kitchen was all I needed to check things out. Trippa was on the menu! I returned home via the “front stairs” and the wait began in my room. After what seemed like an eternity, I would hear Nonna’s voice calling, “Johnny! Johnny, are you there? I’ve got surprise for you.” My feet couldn’t get me up those stairs fast enough. When I burst into the kitchen, she’d be standing there, smiling broadly, holding a dinner plate. “Would you like some polenta?” Trying not to appear too eager, I’d reply with something like, “Sure.” And so the lesson began. “This is how you make polenta, Johnny.” Holding the plate in one hand, she would use the other hand’s fingers to dot the plate’s surface with dabs of butter. Then she would sprinkle the plate with freshly ground Pecorino Romano cheese. Next, using a large spoon, Nonna would slowly and carefully cover the plate with a nice layer of freshly made polenta. By now, I was about ready to drool. “Pazienza, Johnny,” and she would dot the surface of the polenta with more butter, to be followed with another sprinkle of grated cheese. And then came the trippa. Da Vinci didn’t take such care painting the Mona Lisa as did this dear woman when she layered the trippa upon that polenta. Then came another sprinkle of cheese. And every time, when she was done, with a twinkle in her eye, she would hand me the plate and say, “This is how you make polenta with trippa.”

Many years later, I cooked a polenta dinner for Mom and Zia. They were dumbstruck when I prepared their plates just as Nonna had showed me all those years before. Although both were fully aware that she often made me a plate when she cooked trippa for Grandpa, they’d no idea how that plate was created. And today, some 40+ years after my last serving of Nonna’s cooking, I cannot prepare a dish of polenta with trippa without hearing her say, “Pazienza,” and, minutes later, when my plate is ready to eat, I just have to echo, “This is how you make polenta with trippa.”

The preparation and serving of trippa that I am about to present is in the style of Le Marche (alla Marchigiani). (For tripe prepared with a distinctly Spanish flair, check out Tanya’s fantastic Chica Andaluza blog.) Today’s recipe is pretty much the same as Nonna prepared, save 2 exceptions. The first, and easiest to explain, is that I use instant polenta and I don’t know if the product was even available when Nonna was fixing me a plate. I first brought instant polenta to Mom and Zia some 20 years ago and they never served me “regular” polenta again. In fact, during his last visit to Italy in the early ’60s, Grandpa brought back a copper “polenta pot.” Each time Nonna prepared my plate, she served me polenta that she had spent 45 minutes stirring in that very pot. With the arrival of instant polenta, there was no real need for it any longer and I was given the pot several years ago. And, as “payment,” when I return home for a visit, I always bring a container or 2 of instant polenta.

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The second exception has to deal with a basic of Italian cooking. Most, if not all, of the Mediterranean countries begin many of their sauces, stews, and, well, just about anything, with a mixture of diced green pepper, celery, and onion. In Italy, this is called a soffrito and it is sautéed in olive oil at the very start of many dishes, just as is done in France (mirepoix) or in Spain, Latin America, and the Caribbean (sofrito) where the ingredients may vary a bit. Even New Orléans has its “holy trinity” of onion, carrot, and green bell pepper. My family often began dishes with a different kind of soffrito called “battuto.” To make a good “battut,” you need fine quality salt pork, onion, garlic, and parsley. Exact quantities are nearly impossible to gauge. This is something that must be learned by doing. I can say that the onion makes up the majority of a battuto and a small to medium size onion will do. You will, also, need 2 to 3 oz of salt pork sliced about 1/4 inch thick, 2 to 3 garlic cloves, and about 4 tbsp of fresh parsley. That should give you about 1 to 1 1/4 cups of battut, just perfect for today’s recipe. Begin by heating your knife’s blade over a stove’s burner. Once hot, use it to roughly chop the salt pork. Next, in no specific order, roughly chop the garlic, parsley, and onion. Combine the 3 ingredients on top of the salt pork and continue to chop them all. Do not create a paste but continue chopping until the ingredients are of uniform size and well-blended. Once chopped, sauté the battut in a sauce pan with olive oil over medium heat until it develops a little color. Do not rush it nor let it burn. Once done to your satisfaction, go ahead with your recipe. For today’s recipe, if you’d started with a battut, there would be no need for the pancetta, onion,  nor garlic, and the only parsley required would be added at the very end of cooking. You’ll be amazed at the flavor this simple mixture brings to a dish and your kitchen will be filled with an aroma that is just too good to be true.

My family used battuto as the base for sauces, braises, risotto, some soups, and even some vegetables. During the worst of the Great Depression, dinner often consisted of a large amount of polenta served on a large “polenta board” that had been placed in the middle of the dining table. At its very center, Grandma placed a little battuto and you had to eat your way through the polenta to get to it. Grandma, also, used battuto to dress pasta, her own version of aglio e olio. Mom and Zia stopped making battuto a number of years ago, about the time they stopped making sausage. They just couldn’t find good quality salt pork anymore. In its place, like in today’s recipe, they made a soffrito, of sorts. Not willing to give up, I keep searching for salt pork that will pass Zia’s inspection. To that end, I’ve recently learned of a Polish butcher on the West Side that reportedly has the best salt pork in town. We’ll see soon enough.

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Trippa alla Stefanina Recipe 

Ingredients

  • 5 lbs honeycomb tripe
  • 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
  • 1/4 lb pancetta, chopped
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 4 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped, separated
  • 4 garlic cloves, diced
  • 1/2 cup dry white wine
  • 3 tbsp tomato paste
  • 1 large can (28 oz) crushed tomatoes
  • 1 large can (28 oz) diced tomatoes
  • 1 small onion, whole & studded with 5 – 6 whole cloves
  • 1 tbsp marjoram
  • salt & pepper, to taste
  • grated Pecorino Romano cheese for serving

*     *     *

*     *     *

Directions

  1. Rinse trippa under cold water and trim off unusable parts. Place in a large pot, cover with water, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, for 1 hour.
  2. Remove trippa from water and, when cool enough to handle, cut into strips 1 to 2 inches in length and 1/4 to 1/3 inch wide.
  3. While the trippa cools, heat olive oil in medium-sized sauce pan over med-high heat. Add pancetta and sauté until cooked but not crisp, about 8 minutes.
  4. Add the chopped onion, half of the parsley, and sauté until onion is translucent, about 5 minutes.  Season lightly with salt & pepper.
  5. Add garlic and sauté for another minute before adding the wine. Continue cooking until the wine is reduced and almost gone.
  6. Add the tomato paste and continue to sauté for 2 minutes before adding the tomatoes, marjoram, and trippa. Season with salt & pepper, stir well, and then add the clove-studded onion.
  7. Bring to a boil, reduce to a soft simmer, and continue cooking for at least 2 hours. Sauce should be dark and thick; the trippa should be quite tender.
  8. Remove studded onion and discard. Add most of the remaining parsley to the pot, taste to see if additional salt or pepper is needed, and stir well.
  9. Serve immediately, garnished with the remaining parsley and a sprinkling of cheese. Be sure to have grated cheese available at the table.

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Serving Suggestions

Traditionally, trippa is served in deep soup bowls with a healthy chunk of crusty bread on the side. As mentioned above, our family usually served it atop polenta. Pasta fanatic that I am, I’ve even used it to dress pastas like farfalle or rotini.

Notes

Making instant polenta is quite an easy process. So much so that there’s little need to devote an entire post to it, especially since my family’s recipe is so simple. Following package directions (most require, per serving, 4 tbsp of polenta for each cup of water), bring the water to boil, add a pinch of salt, and pour the polenta into the water, whisking all the while until fully blended. Over a medium to med-low heat, stirring frequently, cook the polenta for 5 minutes. At the end, add a tablespoon of butter and grated cheese to taste. (The latter would depend upon the dish(es) that will accompany the polenta.) Mix well and serve. It couldn’t be more simple. Of course, if you want to serve polenta like Nonna, dabs of butter and all, then go for it. You won’t be disappointed.

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About the Matter of Provenance

I’ve been asked, more than once, if these are really my family’s recipes. Certainly, not all of them are but, I can assure you, those that I say came from Mom, Zia, Nonna, etc., are, in fact, theirs. As further proof, below is an image of the Zia’s “polanta” recipe that can be found in the recipe book that she gave me.

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Where’s Flat Ruthie Now?

Any guesses?  Stay tuned …

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Roast Pork with Fennel

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Porchetta

My last few posts have been pretty much dedicated to dishes served over the Holidays. Today’s recipe, Porchetta con Finnocchio, is yet another of those dishes and was served not just around Christmas but whenever there was reason to celebrate. Similar in preparation to most pork roasts, this roast differs because of the cut of meat used and for the use of fennel, finnocchio, as seasoning.

Traditionally, porchetta meant the roasting of an entire pig. In fact, one such pig was roasted at a neighborhood bakery and served at the wedding reception of Zia & Uncle. (Imagine a time when “A”, there were neighborhood bakeries and, “B”, you could use their oven to roast a pig!) Now, that may be fine when feeding large groups but, for most families, a pig roast is out of the question. My family, like many, used the pig’s foreleg, the picnic ham, for the roast.  The meat was butterflied, removing the bone in the process, and then heavily seasoned with, among other things, fennel fronds which are similar to dill in both appearance and taste. The result was a juicy roast, with herbal flavoring throughout. Times have changed and picnic hams aren’t as readily available as they once were. My family switched to roasting bone-in pork loins initially but, as time passed, they, too, became less available and we began roasting boneless pork loins. Although still very good, the loin is a lean cut of meat and some will forever favor a porchetta made using  picnic ham over one made with pork loin.  In a future post, I’ll share a recipe for porchetta using a pork loin but, for today, we’re once again turning back the clock to roast a leg of pork.

This recipe differs from that used by my family in a couple of ways. First off, I wanted to make sure that I had a sauce to serve with my porchetta. To that end, I include roasting vegetables in the pan, adding stock & wine as a basting liquid. I, also, love roasted vegetables and add potatoes and carrots to the roasting pan about an hour after the roasting has begun. In contrast, the most my family put in the roasting pan was a few potatoes, and even that was a rarity. As a result, I don’t remember Mom ever serving a sauce with her porchetta. Lastly, and this is a big one, relatively speaking, I include sliced finnocchio as a roasting vegetable. This would never have been done back home, for fennel was always served raw, the fronds and smaller stems being frozen for later use in a porchetta. Whether served alone or among crudités, fennel was either served plain or with a small, ramekin-sized dish containing a simple dipping sauce of extra virgin olive oil, salt, pepper, and maybe a little red wine vinegar. (There is a name for this sauce but neither Zia nor I can remember it.) I broke with tradition when, about 15 years ago while they were visiting Chicago, I served Mom & Zia a whole sea bass that had been stuffed with, and roasted upon a bed of, fennel. That was the first time either had been served cooked fennel. So, for me to add fennel to the roasting pan is somewhat of a big deal. The flavor it brings to the sauce, however, is well worth the change. Still, should you wish to roast your porchetta in true Bartolini fashion, prepare the roast as indicated below, omitting all the roasting vegetables, and place the porchetta on a roasting rack centered in a roasting pan. No matter how you roast your porchetta, bear in mind you may need to adjust the amount of herbs needed depending upon the size of your roast.

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Porchetta Recipe

Ingredients

    • 1 raw picnic shoulder ham, skin on, bone removed, butterflied
    • 4 tbsp fennel fronds, chopped
    • 4 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
    • 8 – 10 garlic cloves, diced
    • 3 – 4 tbsp fresh rosemary, chopped
    • olive oil
    • 1 tbsp marjoram
    • 12 whole garlic cloves
    • 1 fennel bulb, thinly sliced
    • 1 onion, thinly sliced
    • 3 celery stalks, chopped
    • 3 carrots, cut into large pieces
    • fingerlings or new potatoes
    • 3 rosemary sprigs
    • 6 cups chicken stock, divided
    • 3 cups dry white wine, divided
    • 3 tbsp AP flour
    • butter
    • water

Directions

    1. About an hour before the porchetta is to go into the oven, combine the fennel fronds, parsley, chopped garlic, and rosemary. Add enough olive oil to make a paste, stir,  and set aside.
    2. Use a sharp knife to score the pork skin, making a checkerboard or diamond pattern. Try to avoid cutting deeply into the pork meat, if at all.
    3. Place the roast, skin-side down, and “open it,” revealing as much surface area inside the roast as possible.
    4. Evenly coat the exposed flesh with the herbal paste created in Step 1. Season with marjoram before liberally seasoning with salt & pepper.
    5. Use twine to tie the roast securely. Set roast aside while it loses its chill.
    6. In a roasting pan, add the sliced onions, fennel, celery, and whole garlic cloves. Season liberally with salt & pepper.
    7. Place the roast atop the bed of roasting vegetables. Pre-heat oven to 450˚.
    8. Coat the roast with olive oil, add 2 cups stock plus 1 cup wine to the roasting pan.
    9. Place roasting pan in pre-heated oven. Every 20 minutes, baste the roast with the pan juices, add more stock and wine to the pan, if needed.  (Be sure to reserve 2 cups of stock and 1/2 cup of wine for use later.)
    10. Meanwhile, place potatoes and carrots into a large bowl, season with salt and pepper, some rosemary, and enough olive oil to coat. Mix well.
    11. After 60 minutes total time, reduce oven temperature to 325˚, baste the roast adding more liquid to the pan if needed, and place the seasoned carrots and potatoes into the roasting pan.
    12. From this point forward, continue to baste the roast every 30 minutes or so, replenishing the pan juices when necessary.
    13. If outer skin grows too brown, use aluminum foil to tent the porchetta.
    14. Roast will be finished when the internal temperature reaches 165˚. When ready, remove roast to a cutting board and tent with aluminum foil to rest for at least 15 minutes. Remove the carrots and potatoes to a covered bowl. Strain the pan juices from remaining stewing vegetables.
    15. Use the reserved 1/2 cup of wine to deglaze the roasting pan over high heat.
    16. Use a grease separator to remove all but 3 tbsp of grease from the strained liquid.
    17. Reduce heat to medium, add the 3 tbsp of grease to the roasting pan, and add 3 tbsp AP flour. Mix thoroughly and cook for a minute or so to create a roux.
    18. Add the remaining pan juice liquids and stir until the sauce begins to thicken.
    19. Begin adding the reserved of stock to the pan, stirring constantly, over medium heat.
    20. Once all the stock has been added and the sauce thickened, taste for seasoning, remove from heat, and add a tab of butter to finish the sauce.
    21. Before carving the roast, use a small knife to remove the skin (crackling), which may be served with the roast or left in the kitchen as the Cook’s reward.
    22. Slice and serve the roast, accompanied by the sauce and reserved roasted vegetables.

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Notes

You’ll note the recipe calls for fennel fronds when, in reality, Mom also used the small, thin stems along with the fronds. I believe these stems bring  much flavor to the roast but no one wants to find a stem in their food. To get around this, I make sure any stems used are chopped as finely as possible.

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Baccalà alla Marchigiana

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Wind drying and salting are among the oldest methods of preserving food known to Man. One application of these techniques, dried and salted cod, has been around for hundreds of years and is common throughout much of Europe. In Italy, it is called baccalà; in Portugal, bacalhau; and  you may have seen it in Spanish markets as bacalao. No matter what name is used, if you’ve ever seen it in its dried state, you certainly won’t forget it. Off-white and heavily salted, the preserved fish is sold in pieces about 18 inches long, 4 to 8 inches wide, as much as a half-inch thick, and stiff as a board. Well, except this last piece I bought, which required refrigeration and was actually soft, relatively speaking. (Who knew?) Dried stiff or soft-ish, the cod must be rinsed, again and again, before it can be cooked. (See Notes below.) Once re-hydrated and “de-salted”, you can treat it like you would any fresh fish.

Last week, I spoke of my family’s tradition of serving a seafood feast on Christmas Eve, made possible by Dad’s employment at the restaurant, and mentioned that baccalà was often one of the famed 7 Fishes in many Italian homes. Well, not in our home, much to my dismay. Whether it was because Mom or Dad didn’t like it, or, Mom wasn’t a fan of the prep work, baccalà was a dish served only in Zia’s home. Good thing, too, because although it wasn’t as convenient as having it served at my own dinner table, Zia and her Mother-in-law, Nonna, were masters of its preparation. As a result, as Zia recalls, I was forever trying to snag whatever leftovers I could from their meal. Although both women used the same ingredients, Nonna preferred to bake her baccalà, while Zia cooked hers atop the stove.  As one who “sampled” both preparations, I can attest that each method produced a delicious dish. As for our recipe today, Zia and I combined both methods, partially cooking the dish atop the stove before finishing it off in the oven. Although I wanted to name the dish Baccalà alla Zia, my ever-so-modest Aunt would have none of it. So, to honor both her and Nonna, the recipe is called Baccalà alla Marchigiana — but you and I know its real name.

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Baccalà alla Marchigiana Recipe

Ingredients

  • 3 to 4 medium-sized potatoes, peeled and quartered
  • olive oil
  • salt & pepper, to taste
  • 3 tbsp olive oil
  • 1 medium onion, chopped
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 2 tsp marjoram
  • 3 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
  • 1 large can (28 oz) tomatoes (whole or diced)
  • 1 lb baccalà, soaked, and cut into 3 inch chunks (See Notes below)
  • salt & pepper, to taste

Directions

  1. Pre-heat oven to 400˚.
  2. Season potatoes with salt & pepper, toss with a splash of olive oil, and roast on a baking sheet for 20 minutes at 400˚.
  3. Meanwhile, in a large frying pan, heat olive oil over med-high heat. Add the onion and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes
  4. Add garlic & parsley and continue to sauté for another minute.
  5. Add tomatoes & marjoram, bring to boil, reduce to simmer, and cook, uncovered,  for 30 minutes. If sauce is “tight”, meaning too dry, add water.
  6. Add roasted potatoes and continue simmering for another 20 minutes. Add water if necessary.
  7. Add baccalà to the tomato sauce and place pan into the 400˚ oven. Bake for 20 minutes. Taste before seasoning with salt & pepper, if necessary.
  8. Serve immediately.

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Variations

Whereas baccalà is cod that has been salted and dried, stoccafisso is cod that has been dried but not salted. Once properly prepared, both forms can be cooked in a variety of ways. The portions can be baked in a sauce as above, pan-fried, baked, grilled, or poached and served in a salad. Recently, I watched a re-broadcast of Molto Mario as he used baccalà to make “fish balls,” which he deep-fried. In other words, the only thing limiting how baccalà might be prepared is your own imagination. And for those who believe that fresh or frozen cod is just as good as baccalà, I caution against mouthing such heresy in the presence of Zia’s Youngest Son. A word to the wise is sufficient.

Notes

Baccalà must be thoroughly rinsed and soaked before you can cook it. If it is salted and fully dried (pic on left), it will take 2 days to get it re-hydrated and de-salted  (pic on right). This is readily  accomplished by placing it in a large baking  dish filled with cold water and changing the water occasionally over the course of the 2 days. I find it helps to let the water run gently into the dish a few times, as well. If, as was the case with my most recent purchase, your baccalà is not fully dried but refrigerated, you may be able to get away with a 1 day soak. You will know when the fish is ready by its appearance, feel, and, yes, its smell. Be careful, however, not to let it soak for too long or to run the water too forcefully. The fish could lose its firm texture and might even disintegrate.

No post about baccalà would be complete without mention of its “aroma.”  Certainly not as strong as stoccafisso, when first you begin to soak the cod, you will notice it that it smells like, well, dried fish. The smell quickly dissipates in the rinse water and soon its scent compares favorably with any other fish product. Stoccafisso, however, is not so easily rendered scentless and should only be attempted outdoors or in a well-ventilated room. To illustrate my point …

I was about 5 or 6 years old and shared a bedroom with my brother, who was about 10 or 11 years old at the time. Our bedroom, as well as the bedroom of my cousins’ directly above ours, was separated from the rest of the house by a stairwell that ran from the 2nd floor to the basement. One morning, Mom entered our bedroom in a cleaning frenzy, convinced that my brother or I had done, or left, something disgusting in the room. Angels that we were and despite our claims of Godliness, a foul stench had reached her kitchen, which was located on the other side of the stairwell, and our room declared a crime scene — ground zero, in today’s parlance. Lucky for the two of us, Mom found nothing untoward in our room and now, more determined than ever, she set out to find the source of the stench. It wasn’t long before her nose led her to the basement where, under the stairs, she found Grandpa’s stoccafisso, bathing innocently in a tub of water. Well, revenge is a dish best served cold, so Mom patiently bided her time. It wasn’t long before Grandpa left the house, as he did every morning like clockwork. Seizing the opportunity, Mom placed the tub of stoccafisso under his bed and closed his bedroom door as she left. Even Grandpa’s Old Spice, the scent of which permeated that room, proved to be no match for stoccafisso, as Grandpa learned when he opened that door a few hours later. To be sure, Mom and her Father “discussed” the matter but, being so young, I wasn’t privy to that conversation. I do know, however, that Grandpa never soaked stoccafisso under those stairs again.

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