Category Archives: Family Recipes

Sauce in the Style of Bologna

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Sugo alla Bolognese

Pappardelle alla Bolognese

Pappardelle alla Bolognese

To many, the district of Emilia-Romagna features the best of Italian cuisine and many of the foods we associate with Italy originated there — or so the locals claim. Balsamic vinegar (Modena), amaretti (Modena), prosciutto (Parma), Parmigiano Reggiano (Parma), and Grana Padano (Parma) are but a few of the area’s most famous contributions to Italian cuisine — and we’ve not yet mentioned the capital, Bologna. Home to what many believe to be the oldest, continuously running university in the World, the cooking of Bologna is often considered the Best of the Best and its contributions to Italian cuisine are many: mortadella, tortellini & tortelloni, lasagna(?), cannelloni(?), Sugo alla Bolognese, to name but a few. (Note: my family never referred to a sauce as “ragu”. “Sugo” was the word we used and that’s what will be used here to describe this sauce.)

One of the peculiarities of Italian cooking is that the preparation of a dish, any dish, can vary from district to district, province to province, town to town, and even house to house. Perhaps Chef Mario Batali said it best when he described Italian cuisine as the “cooking of Nonnas” and handed down from generation to generation.  With that history and with few recipes written down, it’s easy to see how the recipes can vary. When speaking of a Bolognese sauce, the first documented recipe for it appeared in the late 19th century, and, as recently as 1981, the Italian Academy of Cuisine (Accademia Italiana della Cucina) published what it considered to be the “classic” recipe (Source Wikipedia). If you’re expecting to find either of these recipes here, you’re going to be disappointed. Although many of the ingredients are the same, today’s recipe is one I’ve developed over a number of years and, if you ask me to write it down 2 years from now, it will probably be different from what I’m about to share. In short, it is, and will forever be, a work in progress. There are a few ingredients common to all Bolognese sauces and I urge you to assemble them and create your own sugo. One day your Grandkids will thank you.

To begin, many consider a Bolognese sauce as a tomato sauce that has meat. That’s not quite right. Most true Bolognese are predominantly meat with a bit of tomato or, as Chef Emeril Lagasse calls it, a “meat sauce with tomato.” To that end, I’ve included beef, veal, pork, sausage, and pancetta in the recipe to follow (see Notes). As for the tomato component, only tomato paste will be used below. No whole, chopped, or puréed tomatoes will be harmed in the making of this sugo. It’s also worth noting that most Bolognese feature relatively few spices and herbs, although I’ve included a couple because that’s just the way we Bartolini roll. Unique to a Bolognese, some form of dairy is added to the pot, though the timing may vary. I use a good amount, early in the preparation. Lastly, wine is added early on and though I choose to use a dry white, you may wish to use a red instead.

One more thing is worth mentioning and it’s a real time saver. The recipe calls for a number of ingredients chopped finely. Rather than chop them all — and since I do not like seeing pieces of carrot in my sauce — I smash the garlic and give the rest a rough chop before placing everything into the food processor. I let it run until the ingredients are all finely chopped and then add the mixture to the hot oil in the pan. Easy peasy!

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Sugo alla Bolognese Recipe

yield: 2.5 quarts (2.4 l)

Ingredients

  • 1 large onion, very finely chopped
  • 2 -3 carrots, very finely chopped
  • 2 -3 celery ribs, very finely chopped
  • 6 cloves garlic, diced
  • 4 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
  • 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
  • 3/4 to 1 lb. (340 to 454 g) ground beef
  • 3/4 to 1 lb. (340 to 454 g) ground pork
  • 3/4 to 1 lb. (340 to 454 g) ground veal
  • 4 oz ground pancetta
  • 6 oz (170 g) ground pork sausage
  • 1 cup dry white wine
  • 12 oz half-and-half (whole milk or a mixture of whole milk & heavy cream may be substituted)
  • 1 can (12 oz, 355 ml) tomato paste
  • 2 cups low sodium beef stock
  • salt & pepper
Vegetables
Meats
Liquids clear, now caramelize

Directions

  1. Heat oil in large sauce pan over a medium-high heat. Once hot, add carrots, onion, celery, garlic, and parsley, season lightly with salt & pepper, and sauté until the liquids are gone and the vegetables start to color.
  2. Add ground meats, stir well, and continue to sauté until well beyond the point where the meat is no longer pink. All of the juices should run clear and the meat should have darkened due to caramelization.
  3. Add the milk and sauté until about half has evaporated.
  4. Add tomato paste, mix thoroughly, and continue to sauté another 2 minutes.
  5. Add the wine and sauté until most has evaporated.
  6. Add the beef stock, stir well, and bring to a boil before reducing to a very low simmer.
  7. Continue to simmer until the sauce deepens in color and thickens — at least 2½ to 3 hours. Stir occasionally. At the end, season with salt and pepper, to taste.
  8. Sauce is ready for use with your favorite pasta or, once cooled, for storage in your refrigerator or freezer.

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Start of Simmer
End of Simmer

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Variations

Some recipes that I’ve seen, and tasted, include ground chicken livers with the meat mixture. Frankly, I don’t see the need for the ingredient, being happy with this sugo as it is. Then again. come back in a few years and you may find me extolling the virtues of chicken livers in my Sugo alla Bolognese.

While “Spaghetti alla Bolognese” is a dish common to many Italian restaurant menus on this side of the Atlantic, in Italy Sugo alla Bolognese is most often served with pappardelle, tagliatelle, and even fettuccine.

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Roll, Cut, & Unfurl Pappardelle

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Notes

Know thy sausage! The sausage you add will have a big impact on your sauce’s flavor. Choose it wisely lest you run the risk of “contaminating” your sugo with an unpleasant taste.

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It’s déjà vu all over again

Calamari FrittiI shared a Fried Calamari recipe 2 years ago, when this blog was still pretty young. Since then, it has become the most referenced recipe on my blog, by a nearly 2 to 1 margin, although Chicago Style Giardiniera is coming on strong. You can view the recipe that everyone is clamoring to see by clicking HERE.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

The Return of Burrata

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Another of the Bartolini Crown Jewels: Cannelloni

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Cannelloni dei Bartolini Serve Cannelloni

With St. Joseph’s Feast Day fast approaching, I’m going to take a break in our fish recipe series and share yet another of the Bartolini Crown Jewels, Cannelloni. St. Joe, after all, deserves no less.

Cannelloni are another of Italy’s stuffed pastas, though these are more in the style of manicotti (see Notes) rather than ravioli or agnolotti. As much as we all loved them — we kids called them “cigars” — cannelloni weren’t served for dinner very often. Unlike ravioli or cappelletti, which were “assigned” holidays, cannelloni were served when Mom or Zia found the time to make them. Remember. There were no freezers so a cannelloni dinner meant that they would have been up at dawn, rolling out pasta dough. As a result, though it wasn’t a holiday, a cannelloni dinner was a special occasion, to be sure.

Now, when you look at the recipe, something may seem a bit familiar. Déjà vu, perhaps? No, that’s not until the end of this post. It’s the filling. We use the same filling here that we used when we made cappelletti a few weeks ago. It is not unusual for Italian households to use the same fillings, condiments, marinades, etc., in a number of dishes. Our breading mixture is the perfect example of this. There are other examples but I’ll save those for another day. No sense spoiling the surprise.

Although the filling recipe is rather straight-forward, preparing the dough needs some explaining. As many of you know, I use either a hand-cranked pasta machine or a roller attachment for my stand mixer to roll my pasta dough. The result is a long sheets of pasta, about 2 to 3 feet long and about 6 inches wide Before doing anything else, you Cannelloni Sheetsneed to determine how wide each of the cannelloni will be. Ours are usually about 4 inches long, allowing 2 rows to be placed down the full length of the baking dish. Some prefer larger cannelloni. No matter which size you like, measure the inside width of your baking dish’s bottom. To allow the pasta to expand during cooking (see image for comparison), subtract at least half an inch from the measurement. If you want large cannelloni, this is the width of the dough sheet you’ll need. For smaller cannelloni, divide the measurement by 2. Keep this measurement in mind. (For example. My baking dish is 8 inches square, though, at the bottom, it is 7.5 inches. I wanted to place 2 rows of cannelloni into the dish so I cut my dough sheets at 3 inches.)

Once you’ve made the dough and allowed it to rest, roll it into long sheets. If your machine or rollers are at their widest when set to no. 1, roll and re-roll the dough up to and including no. 5. If your machine or rollers are at their widest at no. 10, then roll and re-roll the dough up to and including no. 6. Once the dough sheet is rolled to the specified thickness, lay it flat on a lightly floured surface. Using a straightedge, move down the full length of the dough sheet, marking it according to the measurement gained above. Use a pastry cutter or sharp knife to cut the sheet into smaller sections. (My sheets were all 3 X 6 inches.) Lay the newly cut sheets separately. Do not stack.

This is where things get interesting. It has been quite sometime since either Zia or I made cannelloni. So, when I asked if we par-boiled the pasta before filling it, she drew a blank. Obviously, so had I or I wouldn’t have asked the question. After some discussion, she leaned toward the side of no par-boiling was required, while I thought it was. I was left with little choice, so, off to the test kitchens I went. That afternoon I made side-by-side dishes of cannelloni, one with noodles that had been boiled and the other with noodles that were raw. Once finished baking, a taste test ensued. After all that, the difference was minimal. Yes, I could tell the difference, tasting them one right after the other. I’m not so sure, however, that I could identify one if eaten alone — although I’d have a 50-50 chance if I guessed. Even so, there was a difference,  no matter how slight, and I preferred the cannelloni prepared with par-boiled dough sheets. I guess I’ll be doing that from now on.

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Cannelloni Bite

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So, if you chose to par-boil your noodles, place them, in batches, into rapidly boiling salted water. Remove after 60 to 90 seconds, and place in an ice bath. Treat carefully because the noodles are delicate and may tear while being moved or handled. Continue with batch after batch until done. When you’re ready to fill them, you may find it easier if you pat dry each sheet before attempting to fill and roll them.

If you choose to use raw noodles, you must work quickly lest the dough sheets dry. This will cause them to crack when you attempt to roll them. To avoid this problem, once you’ve measured and cut the individual sheets, fill them all and put them aside before starting another piece of dough through the rollers. Follow this method and you’ll have no problems with cracking dough sheets.

Be sure to read the Notes section below for freezing suggestions.

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Bartolini Cannelloni Recipe

Ingredients

for the filling

  • 1 1/2 lbs. ground pork
  • 1 1/2 lbs. ground veal (chicken or turkey may be substituted)
  • 2 – 3 tbsp butter
  • 1 pkg (10 oz, 283 g) frozen chopped spinach (cooked and well-drained)
  • 1 pkg (8 oz, 227 g) cream cheese
  • 1 cup grated Pecorino Romano — Parmigiano may be substituted
  • 2 or 3 eggs slightly beaten — depending on size
  • ¼ tsp ground nutmeg
  • zest of 1 lemon, more if you like

for the cheese sauce

  • 2 – 3 oz (57 to 85 g) cream cheese, softened 
  • 2 – 3 oz (59 to 89 ml) milk

for the cannelloni

  • Mom’s pasta dough
  • 1 quart tomato sauce, with meat or without (See Notes)
  • cheese sauce
  • an 8 oz ball of fresh mozzarella
  • 1/2 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese

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Place filling on dough shet
Roll like a cigar
Place in baking dish
Cover with cheese sauce
Cover with tomato sauce
Cover with grated cheeses

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Directions

for the filling

  1. Sauté meat in butter. Season lightly with salt.
  2. Use meat grinder to process the meats. Add all the ingredients into a mixing bowl and mix until well-combined.
  3. Cover the filling and refrigerate for a few hours or overnight.
  4. Once the filling has rested, you can begin making your cannelloni.

for the cheese sauce

  1. Combine equal amounts of cream cheese with milk.
  2. Whisk and set aside. 

to make the cannelloni

  1. Shape 2 to 3 tbsp of filling into a small log, about as thick as your index finger. More or less filling may be required depending upon the size of your cannelloni. Do not over-stuff. Filling should leave a 1/4 inch (.6 cm) border on either side of the dough sheet.
  2. Place the filling on the edge of the dough sheet and roll as one would if making a cigar.
  3. Set aside, seam-side down.
  4. Repeat Steps 1 through 3 until all the filling or dough sheets have been used.

assemble the dish and bake

  1. Pre-heat oven to 350˚ F ( 177˚ C).
  2. Liberally butter a baking dish.
  3. Coat the bottom of the dish with 1 to 2 cups (237 to 473 ml) of tomato sauce
  4. Place cannelloni, seam side down, in 2 rows, until dish is filled. Do not over-crowd.
  5. Spoon cheese sauce over all the cannelloni.
  6. Add enough of the remaining tomato sauce to completely cover the dish’s contents.
  7. Sprinkle the top with the grated mozzarella and Pecorino Romano cheeses.
  8. Spray one side of a sheet of aluminum foil with cooking spray and use it to cover the baking dish, sprayed side down.
  9. Bake in pre-heated 350˚ oven for 20 minutes. Remove foil and continue baking until cheese topping is cooked to your satisfaction. Over-cooking may result in dry cannelloni.
  10. Allow to rest 10 minutes before serving.

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Cannelloni 7

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Variations

If you have a favorite ravioli filling, you can easily use it here. In fact, I’ve used our ravioli filling to make cannelloni several times. The truth is, you may find it easier to make cannelloni than it is to make ravioli, at least initially, so, why wait? Go ahead and use these instructions to make cannelloni with whatever filling you prefer. There’s sure to be a great dinner in store for you, if you do.

Although never served in my family, there is a version of cannelloni that uses crespelle (crêpes) rather than pasta dough sheets. One day I’ll give them a try — once I learn how to make crespelle, that is.

Notes

If you choose not to par-boil the dough sheets, add about a 1/3 cup (80 ml) of water to the tomato sauce before using and stir well. The extra water will be needed by the raw sheets as the cannelloni bake.

I recently made a half-batch of filling with a whole batch of Mom’s pasta dough. Combining the 2, I made 32 cannelloni, enough for several dinners. Your results may vary, however, depending upon how large you make your cannelloni. If you make an entire batch of filling, you could use half to make cannelloni on Day 1, as I did, and use the rest of the filling on Day 2 to make cappelletti. On Day 3, open your freezer and smile, secure in the knowledge that there are some very good dinners in your future.

Cannelloni can be frozen easily.  

  1. Once fully assembled, cover the baking dish with foil and freeze. To heat, leave covered with foil and bake in a pre-heated, 350˚ F (177˚C), oven for 45 minutes. Remove foil and continue baking until cheese is to your liking.
  2. I find it easier and more convenient to freeze the cannelloni individually on a baking Cannelloni for the Freezersheet covered with foil or parchment paper. Once frozen, place them into a hard-sided container and store in your freezer. When it’s time to serve them, you can use as many as needed to assemble your dish, rather than cook a dish you prepared the week before. Follow the same instructions for baking as in the preceding step.
  3. Even if you follow my cooking instructions for frozen cannelloni, you’ll need to test for doneness before removing them from the oven. To do this, place the tip of a metal skewer or sharp knife into one of the cannelloni in the center of the dish. Hold it there for 5 to 10 seconds. Remove and use it to touch the inside of your wrist or just beneath your lower lip. Continue baking until tip is hot to the touch.

If you can, try to use fresh mozzarella to top off this dish, for it tastes so much better. I prefer not to use slices here, though. Since the slices take longer to melt and brown, you run the risk of drying out the cannelloni while it bakes. Fresh mozzarella will melt faster but it can be a mess to grate at home. To make it a bit easier, open its packaging and place it all in your freezer for about 30 minutes before needed. You’ll find the cheese to be firmer and, therefore, easier to grate. If it is too firm, just leave on the counter for a few minutes.

I’m not certain if these definitions are “official”, but in our family, cannelloni were meat-filled and manicotti were filled with a ricotta cheese mixture. You now have our cannelloni recipe. Soon you’ll have our manicotti recipe, too.

It’s déjà vu all over again … 

tricolor-risottoFor today’s Blast from the Past, we’re going to continue to celebrate St. Joseph’s Feast Day with risotto, a dish that’s Italian, through and though.  This is no ordinary dish of risotto, however, as you can see on the right, for its colors are those of the Italian flag. You can learn how to prepare this dish by clicking HERE.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Spaghetti with White Anchovies and Capers

Spaghetti with White Anchovies and Capers

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Grilled Salted Cod

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Baccalà alla Griglia

Grilled Salted Cod

Today’s post is the 3rd straight recipe involving seafood of some sort — and we’ve 4 more to go. For today’s dish, we return to the grill but this time, after some discussion, a grill basket is used.   You see, fresh from my success with the grilled sturgeon, I wanted to try grilling salted cod, baccalà, directly on the grill plates. What could go wrong? Well, when I spoke with Zia about my plan, not only did she mention what could go wrong but she also pointed out that we Bartolini always grilled baccalà lightly breaded and in a basket.  How could I fight that kind of logic? This is, after all, a place for documenting our family’s recipes. So, moments later, she was explaining how baccalà was grilled in the Old Days and I was wondering where I’d put my grill basket. You needn’t worry, however, if you’re a fan of grill marks on you fish. We’ll return to the grill next week, when swordfish is on the menu.

With the grilling method out-of-the-way, let’s briefly recap baccalà and its preparation. For centuries, cod was caught, cleaned, and dried primarily in Scandinavia before distribution across Europe. If the cod is salted and then air-dried, it’s called salted cod, baccalà in Italy. If the cod is hung and air-dried, it is called stock fish, stoccafisso in Italy. (In Italy, all stoccafisso is cod but that’s not necessarily the case elsewhere.) Before either form of cod can be prepared, each must be re-hydrated and, if necessary, rinsed free of salt. To do so, place the cod in a flat baking dish, deep enough to hold enough water to completely submerge the entire fish. Keep the cod in the water for at least 12 hours but no more than 2 days. Replace the water 3 times daily. You can speed up the process a bit by letting a slow, steady stream of water flow into the dish but not on to the cod or you might damage the fillet. You’ll know the fish is ready by the way it looks, feels, and smells.

Once the cod is ready, remove it from the water and place it on (paper) towels while you make the marinade. You do not want to allow the cod to completely dry out but do remove the surface moisture. In a small mixing bowl, add about 1/3 cup Panko bread crumbs; 3 tbsp chopped fresh parsley; 1 tbsp chopped fresh rosemary; 1 or 2 cloves of garlic (grated or diced); 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil; and pepper to taste. (Salt should not be needed and ingredient amounts may vary depending upon the size of the fillet.) Return the cod to the now-dry baking dish and cover with the marinade, coating it evenly on all sides. This is not a “true” breading, so, there’s no need to completely cover the fish. Use plastic wrap to cover the dish and set aside for a couple of hours. It may be necessary to refrigerate the cod, depending upon your kitchen’s temperature.

Pre-heat the grill when you’re ready to cook your cod. Clean the grilling basket and oil it liberally just prior to placing the cod in its center. Once secured, lay the basket on the grill and sprinkle a bit of olive oil over the fillet’s top side and close the grill’s lid. Lower the heat to med-high. Depending upon your grill’s temperature, how the basket rests on the grill plates, and the thickness of the fillet(s), baccalà will take from 8 to 11 minutes per side. Be sure to check it midway through the cooking of each side and be prepared to adjust cooking times, as required. Once you’ve flipped the basket over, sprinkle the fish’s “new” top side with the juice of a half-lemon. Continue grilling until done.

When cooked properly, cod will easily flake. Keep this is mind as you carefully remove the cod from the grilling basket.  Place on a serving platter and serve immediately with lemon wedges.

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Notes

As mentioned earlier, the marinade is not meant to be a breading that completely covers the fillet. Though it contains bread crumbs, there is no way that all of it will remain on the fish as it is grilled. Once the marinade has done its job, the bread crumbs will offer some protection for the fish, helping it to remain moist as it’s grilled.

Depending upon where you live, you may be able to purchase a piece of baccalà that is just about equal in size to the fillet I used in this recipe.  I have no such luck and must purchase a large piece of baccalà, probably around 18 inches (46 cm) long, that is the entire side of the fish, from the gill opening to its tail. On Christmas Eve, the entire piece can be cut up and cooked, as I showed you HERE. Any other time of the year, that piece of cod is far too big for me and I divvy it up for 3 different dishes. First of all, do not re-hydrate the cod until you’re ready to use that particular piece of fish. Even though dried, you’ll notice one side, the fillet section, that is thicker than any other part of the fish (shown in RED on the right). Use a sharp knife or kitchen shears to remove that piece. This is the piece I used in today’s recipe. On the other side of the fish, is another, equally sized portion, though not as thick (GREEN). Remove that section and return it to the packaging. This piece will be used to make a salad and I’ll show you how in a future post. The remaining section BLUE), about a 10 inch (25 cm) “tail”, should be returned to the packaging and, once re-hydrated, can be baked or broiled. I’ll be showing you how to do that, too, at a later date. Properly sealed and kept dry, these 2 remaining pieces will keep for months although, if you enjoy baccalà like we do, you needn’t worry about it being around for weeks, much less months.

And for those of you keeping track, this is pretty much the same bread crumb mixture that was used in last week’s recipe, as well as a number of other Bartolini recipes. Guaranteed, it will be making at least one more appearance in the weeks ahead.

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In my rush to get last week’s entry posted, I failed to include anything about my visitors. For those not in the know, that previous Friday, Miss C and The Matriarch, of The Kitchen’s Garden fame, rode into town on a brisk, but sunny, Friday morning and left the very next morning, heavily laden with packages of every kind. It was a whirlwind tour of some of my favorite food haunts, topped off with a late lunch at a favorite Thai restaurant. They were, without a doubt, perfect guests, as we ran from store to store, aisle to aisle, letting me prattle on as if I was personally responsible for the contents of each. By any measure, it was a very good day, one that I hope we can repeat, weather and Farmy permitting.

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It’s déjà vu all over again … 

Easter is still several weeks away but it’s never too late to plan. Besides, if you like this bread as much as all who’ve baked it, you’ll need time to bake another loaf for the Holiday. Crescia al Formaggio is baked in the Bartolini homeland, Le Marche, every year at Easter. With over a cup of grated cheese in its dough, this bread not only tastes good but it fills your kitchen with a fantastic aroma while it’s in the oven. Believe me. This is one bread that is sure to please everyone seated at your dinner table. You can read my post by clicking HERE.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Grilled Swordfish with Salsa Verde

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Linguini Fini with Sardines & Pickled Cherry Peppers

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I continue to be amazed by the talent and creativity I see in the blogs I visit. Often, having spent the day in an assortment of unplanned, often unnerving, activities, the dinner hour is approaching and the blogger has absolutely no idea of what to prepare. A look in the pantry, a scan of the fridge, and within minutes a delicious dinner is on the table while a tasty dessert awaits on a countertop. OK, that may be a bit of an exaggeration but the point remains. Many of you can create fabulous dinners on a moment’s notice, using only what you find in your kitchen and pantry. This is so not me. If caught with nothing planned for dinner, I can scan my cupboards or stare into the fridge for hours and I’ll end up with the same 2 dishes: a sandwich from a previous night’s roast and, when there’s no roast, some sort of pasta. Today’s recipe is a case in point.

You see, this is not the recipe I had planned to share today but before I get into that, please take a look at the image to the right. Examine that box very closely. Everybody done? Good. Now, do you see anything that would lead you to believe that there are anchovies in that box? Anything at all. Of course not. So, why did I buy it, mistakenly believing it contained white anchovies — the ingredient that was supposed to be featured in today’s recipe? Worse yet, that box sat in my cupboard for 2 weeks, visible to me countless times during that period. Yet, incredibly, it wasn’t until I opened the tin late last week that I realized my mistake — and then I had an open tin of sardines to deal with and nothing for dinner or today’s post.

Now, I could have taken the easy route and just substituted the sardines for the anchovies but that would have cost me a perfectly good pasta recipe that uses white anchovies, as you’ll see in the weeks ahead. No, I had to think of something else and, thankfully, I remembered an ingredient Mario Batali had used recently. So, I went to my stash of canned goods, specifically the hot cherry peppers I pickled last September, and the result was today’s dish, a pasta much like an Aglio e Olio.

To recap, a typical aglio e olio uses olive oil, garlic, and red pepper flakes to dress a spaghetti-like pasta that’s topped with grated cheese and freshly cracked black pepper. The red pepper flakes give the dish a nice even heat that can be as bold as you like, unlike today’s dish, where the chopped pickled peppers give bursts of heat, as well a touch of acid from the pickling liquid. Of course the sardines give this dish an entirely different flavor profile from your everyday aglio e olio and, because of them, grated cheese should not be served with this dish. So, to top the dish off, I used the Bartolini breading mixture that was lightly toasted beforehand. And the result? Well, it was so good that I’ve promised Zia I’d prepare it for her when I visit next.

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 Linguine Fini with Sardines & Pickled Cherry Peppers Recipe 

Ingredients

  • 1 lb linguine fini (cappellini, spaghetti, linguine, or trenette may be used)
  • 1/2 cup + 2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, divided
  • 1 pkg. {3.75 oz (105 g)} of skinless & boneless sardines, drained & roughly chopped
  • 5 cloves of garlic, diced or grated – divided
  • 4 pickled cherry peppers, cored, seeded, and roughly chopped
  • 1/2 cup Panko bread crumbs
  • 3 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
  • salt & pepper
  • reserved pasta water

Directions

  1. Make the bread crumb topping:
    1. In a small mixing bowl, combine 1 diced/grated garlic clove, bread crumbs, and 2 tbsp of olive oil. Season lightly with salt & pepper. Mix thoroughly.
    2. In a small frying pan over med-high heat, lightly toast the bread crumb mixture. Do not allow to get too dark or it will ruin the dish. Remove from heat and set aside.
  2. Bring a large pot of heavily salted water to boil. Add the pasta and stir.
  3. In a large frying pan over med heat, add the remaining olive oil. Once hot, add remaining garlic and sauté for 1 minute.
  4. Add the pickled peppers to the pan and continue sautéing for another minute before adding the sardines. Continue sautéing until the pasta has cooked 2 minutes less than the package’s cooking instructions indicate for al dente. If you’ve timed everything correctly, you should sauté the sardines for no more than 5 minutes before the pasta is ready.
  5. Drain the pasta, reserving 1 cup of the pasta water.
  6. Add pasta to the pan containing the sardines and peppers. Gently toss to evenly coat the pasta. If too dry, add enough pasta water to create a sauce. Continue to sauté until the pasta is al dente, 1 to 2 minutes more.
  7. Remove from heat, add 2/3 of the bread crumb mixture, and toss.
  8. Place on a serving platter and garnish with remaining 1/3 of the bread crumb mixture.
  9. Serve immediately.

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Variations

If you’re one who enjoys cooking Italian dishes, preparing aglio e olio is a dish you really should learn. The basic recipe involves using garlic-infused oil and red pepper flakes to dress pasta but that’s just the start. Today’s dish swapped out the red pepper flakes for hot cherry peppers and added sardines to the mix. You may wish to keep the pepper flakes and use some vegetable(s) instead of the sardines. No? How about some shrimp? What you choose to add or subtract from the garlic-flavored oil is totally up to you but the result is sure to be a flavorful dish of pasta. Best of all, you can go from staring into your refrigerator to dining at your table in under 20 minutes.

Notes

To be sure, not everyone has pickled cherry peppers in the pantry. Most groceries do carry them, however, but you could use peperoncini instead. Still, no matter which pepper you use, I suggest tasting one beforehand to see if its level of heat is to your liking.

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It’s déjà vu all over again … 

Having referred to it a number of times, I’ve little choice but to feature our Aglio e Olio recipe as this week’s Blast from the Past. The dish couldn’t be easier to prepare and the post contains a favorite memory of my Uncle. You can read both by clicking HERE.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Grilled Salted Cod

Grilled Salted Cod

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Basic Meat Sauce

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Sugo di Carne Odd, isn’t it? The part of each post that will give us trouble. Last week it was the photos and labels. Just how many pictures does one need of meat & vegetables floating in water? And do I call it “broth”, “brodo”, or “stock”? In the end, I chose one photo and used all three monikers.

This week it’s the post’s title. First off, I thought using the word “Sugo” might be confusing to a few people.  In English, sugo means “gravy” but, unlike some, we never referred to tomato sauce as “gravy”. It was either “sauce” or “sugo”. “Gravy” was the stuff you put on mashed potatoes. But that’s not the only problem in the title. This sauce is not a Bolognese, although I have that recipe and will share it later. I am a Marchigiano but it would be arrogant for me to call my sauce alla Marchigiani, meaning “in the style of Le Marche”. I guess I could say it’s dei Bartolini, meaning “of the Bartolini”, but that would imply that there’s one common sauce for us all. That’s hardly the case.

Back in the old two-flat, each adult was quite capable of making a sauce for pasta. Granted, it was exceptionally rare for one of the men to make a sauce but that doesn’t mean each didn’t consider himself to be a master chef when it came to making one. Oddly enough, each of the adults’ sauces was as different from the others as the cook who prepared it. In fact, I’d be willing to bet that if it were somehow possible to recreate each individual’s sauce, I would still be able to determine who prepared each. Yes, they were that distinctive despite using almost the exact same ingredients. “Almost” because there were two minor differences: Mom had her “secret” spice (See Notes) and Nonna might use a little marjoram. It remains a mystery to me how 6 people could have used the same ingredients and achieve such different results. Today, I add a little wine to my sauce and I don’t recall anyone else having done that. The point to all of this is to make clear that there is no one sauce of the Bartolini and for me to use that title for my sauce would be mighty presumptuous. Nevertheless, the bottom line is that I still needed a title for this post, so, I took the path of least resistance. “Basic Meat Sauce” it is.

"Until the juices run clear"

“Until the juices run clear”

There are a few techniques that all of our tomato sauces include. In the first place, all of our sauces use onions. This is significant because the sweetness of the onion eliminates the need for the sugar that some add to their tomato sauces. When it comes to preparing a meat sauce, at one time large pieces of beef and pork were used and later served alongside of the pasta. Today those meats are ground before being added to the pot. Personally, I no longer buy ground meat and, as a result, am in better control of both the quality and fat content of my ingredients. Beyond that, the instructions for many sauces state to “Brown the meat.” Well, that’s half-right. If you only sauté the meat until the pink is gone, you’re missing an opportunity to add flavor to your sauce. As Zia says, make sure “the juices run clear” before you add anything else to the pot. This will ensure that all the liquid has evaporated, concentrating the flavor and leaving just fat behind. Only then can the meat really begin to brown and I’ll continue to sauté it for a few minutes more to do so. Lastly, I’ll add parsley and basil to the pot just like everyone else but I, also, go back and add more just after the sauce is taken off the heat. I find that doing so not only boosts the flavor of the sauce but adds to its aroma, as well.

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Basic Meat Sauce Recipe

yield: 2 quarts (1.9 l)

Ingredients

  • 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
  • 3/4 to 1 lb. (340 to 454 g) ground beef
  • 3/4 to 1 lb. (340 to 454 g) ground pork
  • 1 large onion, chopped
  • 8 cloves garlic, minced or grated
  • 4 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped – separated
  • 1 cup dry red wine
  • 10 crimini mushrooms, sliced – optional
  • 4 tbsp tomato paste
  • 2 quarts (1.9 l) tomatoes or 2 large (28 oz) cans, chopped
  • 2 tsp marjoram
  • 4 tbsp fresh basil, chopped – separated
  • salt & pepper

Directions

  1. Heat oil in large sauce pan over a medium-high heat. Once hot, add beef and pork, season lightly with salt & pepper, and sauté until the liquids run clear and the meat browns.
  2. Add onion, garlic, and half of the parsley. Stir, season lightly with salt & pepper, and continue to sauté until onion is translucent.
  3. Add the wine and sauté until all but a trace has evaporated.
  4. Optional: Add mushrooms and continue sautéing until soft, about 5 minutes.
  5. Add tomato paste, mix thoroughly, and continue to sauté another 2 minutes.
  6. Add the tomatoes, basil, marjoram, and stir to thoroughly combine.
  7. Bring to boil and reduce to a soft simmer.
  8. Continue to simmer until the sauce deepens in color and thickens — about 2 hours. Stir occasionally.
  9. Remove from heat, add remaining parsley & basil. Stir to combine.
  10. Sauce is ready for use with your favorite pasta or, once cooled, for storage in your refrigerator or freezer.

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Notes

Although this recipe makes two quarts, it can easily be halved to make one quart of sauce.

When you choose to add wine to your sauce will affect its impact on the end-result. If added early, as I did in today’s recipe, the wine will blend into the background, adding to the overall taste of the sauce. Adding it later, towards the end, the wine flavoring will be much more prominent. When preparing a meat sauce, I add the wine early on. For a marinara, I add it later, as you’ll see below. It is yours to decide which you prefer.

Mom did have a “secret” spice that she added to her sauce.  It’s not that I’ve a problem revealing the secret, it’s just that we cannot agree on what that spice was. It’s been over 10 years since I last had a taste and, speaking for myself, my memory isn’t what it used to be. Now, normally this would have meant the end of the discussion, except for one little thing. Recently, while rearranging my basement freezer’s contents, I came across a quart of Mom’s sauce that had fallen in among the ice bags that I used to create a false bottom in the freezer. (The bags were supposed to make things easier to reach and, ironically, prevent something from “getting lost” down there.) Granted, as far as discoveries go, this is not on a par with King Tut’s tomb but is it still a great find. I seriously doubt that the sauce is in any condition to be eaten but, hopefully, we’ll be able to determine just what Mom’s secret ingredient was. To that end, I plan to bring it to Zia — when I remember — and let her palate settle this matter, once and for all. Lest there be any doubt, let me assure you that Zia is a fair and impartial judge. She would never be swayed by the fact that I arranged for her to hold the hand and receive the blessing of her Patron, the soon-to-be-Saint Pope John Paul II.

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It’s déjà vu all over again

Since I shared one tomato sauce today, I might as well take you back to an earlier post in which I shared a marinara (meatless) sauce. You can see the recipe by clicking HERE. It was one of my earliest posts, so, be kind.

And while you’re there, be sure to take the link to check out that lasagna recipe. I doubt you’ve seen one like it.

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Mom’s Broth — Il Brodo della Mamma

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Although I had planned today’s post weeks ago, it really could not have come at a better time. When that virus most vile invaded my world just before New Year’s, I was about as prepared for it as could be. In my freezer were quarts of turkey stock that had been made after Thanksgiving, as well as a nice supply of Mom’s broth, brodo, that I’d prepared for this post. As soon as I detected the contemptible contagion’s presence, I was off to the store for a few odds & ends, returning home where I would remain for the duration. The bastardly bacillus had chosen the wrong host, for the brodo that had served me so well as a child would now be called upon to see me through the dark days that loomed ahead.

I’ve mentioned in the past that we lived on the same block as the parish church which was across the street from our grammar school. Living so close to the school, we were expected to go home for lunch, for the school was relatively small and there was no cafeteria. Children who stayed for lunch sat at their desks and ate. We, on the other hand, raced home where Mom had lunch ready for us. To be sure, at the start of the school year, our lunches often consisted of sandwiches, an occasional burger or hot dog, and fish sticks, tuna salad, or some other meatless delight on Fridays. As the year progressed and the weather grew colder, soup would come to play a larger role in our noontime meals. It was no coincidence that, just as the temperatures began to dip, Mom’s old stockpot would make its first appearance on a Sunday morning, having spent weeks in hiding someplace out of sight.

Sunday was the only day that Dad didn’t work at the restaurant. That morning, Sis and I often accompanied Dad on his morning rounds, returning home just in time to sit down for lunch. Once the weather turned cold, that stock pot was atop Mom’s stove virtually every Sunday morning until Spring. Some days, our Sunday lunch was just soup, with the boiled meats served on the side. (See Notes.)  Other times sandwiches accompanied our soup and, of course, there were other Sundays where soup wasn’t served at all. Still, no matter how much, or how little, was used on Sunday, Mom had plans for that brodo.

On the coldest of school days, we could count on a bowl of steaming soup waiting for us at lunchtime. With Dad home for supper on Wednesdays, Mom often used her brodo to prepare risotto for us that night. And throughout the week, if a recipe required a cup of broth, Mom need look no further than the refrigerator. Beyond that, she always kept a quart of brodo in the freezer should one of us be visited by an ancestor of the beastly bacterium that recently called upon me. If Doctor Mom surmised that the malevolent microbe was not going anywhere for a few days, her stockpot was called back into duty so that when the quart of frozen brodo was gone, she’d be ready with a full pot of brodo to continue the battle.

Before detailing Mom’s recipe, a few points need mentioning. None of the soups I’ve mentioned was chicken noodle soup. To be sure, she prepared that for us but it certainly wasn’t very often. We were much more likely to be fed her brodo plain or with quadretti or acini de pepe pastas when ill and, maybe, with capelli d’angelo pasta when we were feeling better. And her brodo wasn’t made with chicken only. Like most Italian broths, chicken and beef were used to create them. This isn’t to say Mom never made a purely chicken broth. It was, however, fairly rare for her to do so. Lastly, many cooks today will brown the chicken and vegetables before adding water to the pot. This will result in a flavorful broth, which some call “brown” chicken stock. I’ll make either one, depending upon how the broth will be used. If I intend to use the brodo to make risotto or chicken noodle soup, I’ll brown the meats (like Mom, I’ll include a piece of beef) and vegetables first. If, however, I’m going to use the brodo for cappelletti, stracciatella, or passatini, I’ll follow Mom’s lead and not brown anything. The meats, vegetables, herbs, and spices are put into a pot of cold water and then the heat is turned on. This results in a cleaner, less complex-tasting broth, one that will let the flavor of the pasta shine. (You’ll note that the photos accompanying this post are from the making of a pot of  “brown” chicken stock for interest’s sake. Photos of Mom’s brodo being prepared would be nothing more than beef, chicken, and vegetables floating in water.)

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Mom’s Broth Recipe

total time: approx.  3.5 hours

Ingredients

  • 1 or 2 chicken thighs, with skin and bones
  • 1 or 2 chicken backs

or

  • 2 or 3 chicken thighs, with skin and bones

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  • 1 medium-sized slice of beef shank or beef “soup bone” with meat attached.
  • (2 – 3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, if browning meat and vegetables)
  • 1 large onion, cut into large chunks – or – 2 medium, cut into chunks
  • 2 carrots, cut into chunks
  • 2 celery stalks, leaves included, cut into chunks
  • 2 – 4  garlic cloves, smashed
  • 1 tomato, rough chopped
  • 4 – 6 parsley sprigs
  • (salt & pepper, if making soup and not broth)
  • 4 to 7 quarts of water, depending upon amount of meat used

Directions

  1. For true “brown” chicken stock, purists will omit the beef.
    1. Heat the olive oil in a large stock pot over medium-high heat. Add the onions, carrots, and celery. Stir occasionally while sautéing until the vegetables are lightly carmelized, about 10 minutes. Remove from pan and reserve.
    2. In the same pan, sear the meats. You may have to work in batches.
    3. When the last of the meat has been browned, return the vegetables to the pot, add the garlic, tomato, parsley, and enough water to cover all the pan’s contents by 3 inches, at least.
  2. For Mom’s brodo:
    1. Add all the ingredients to a large stock pot, and add enough water to cover all the pan’s contents by 3 inches, at least.
  3. Bring the ingredients to a boil, then reduce to a soft simmer. Periodically skim the film off of the surface.
  4. For a pot this large, I will continue simmering the broth for 2.5 to 3 hours. Your cook-times may vary depending upon how much brodo you’re making.
  5. When finished simmering, take the brodo off of the heat to cool somewhat. Remove the meats and reserve. Pour the broth through a fine mesh strainer, discarding the cooked vegetables and herbs. Depending upon its intended use, you can pour the broth through a clean kitchen towel, resulting in a clearer brodo. Refrigerate once strained.
  6. Once the broth is well-chilled, the fat will have risen to the top and can be removed relatively easily with a large spoon. Once the fat has been removed, store the brodo in air-tight containers in the refrigerator for a few days, or, in the freezer for several weeks.

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Notes

More than anything, the amount of meat used will determine how much broth to make. I have a 10 quart stockpot and usually make 5 to 6 quarts of brodo. The ingredients listed reflect this and will ensure that I’ve plenty of broth my soups, risotto, or for sipping when a malicious malady attempts an invasion of my pulmonary system. Lacking a large stock pot, you should scale back the amount of meat you put into the pot. The same would hold true, for example, should you only intend to make enough brodo for that night’s risotto or soup.

You’ll note that I do not use salt and pepper in my broth unless I’m sure it will be used for soup and nothing else. Even then, I prefer not to salt it. I can always add salt to my brodo as I use it but I can do nothing, for example, to fix a risotto that’s over-salted and nothing ruins a bowl of cappelletti like a salty brodo.

Sticking with the tradition of nothing going to waste in the kitchen, Mom rescued and served whatever meat she could from the stockpot. Granted, if only chicken backs and a beef soup bone were used that morning, there’d be nothing to save. On the other hand, if there was a nice piece of beef or chicken to be found, she would shred each separately, add some of the boiled onion, and dress with a bit of olive oil and vinegar, salt & pepper. These two “salads” would be served at room temperature along with the tureen of soup.

Today, although I, too, will often make a salad with any beef that’s present, I’ll use the chicken meat in another way. After chopping the meat, I’ll sauté it in a bit of butter, seasoning it with some herb (rosemary, tarragon  or thyme) and salt & pepper. In the meantime I’ll assemble the rest of the ingredients needed for a chicken salad. When the chicken is ready, my salad gets prepared, and I’ll enjoy a chicken salad sandwich with my bowl of soup.

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So, you’ve made brodo. Now what?

Well, you could make chicken noodle soup but, as I said, that would not have been Mom’s first choice. I’ve already shared a few of her options and all are listed below. (Click on the photo’s caption to see its recipe.) In the future, I’ll share her recipes for soup ravioli (cappelletti) and Bartolini risotto .

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Passatini

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Acini de Pepe with Little Meatballs

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Stracciatella

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Quadretti

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It’s déjà vu all over again … 

When I wrote earlier that I needed some odds & ends, one of those was flour. Thinking ahead, I knew that at some point I would want a little something more to eat along with my soup. Bread came to mind. Spianata, to be more specific. Made with 3 of my favorite things — garlic, onion, and rosemary — this focaccia-like bread is easy to prepare and a welcome addition to any meal — like a bowl of soup. Best of all, it will fill your kitchen with a heavenly aroma like only freshly baked bread with rosemary can. You can see the recipe by clicking HERE.

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Bartolini Sausage Ravioli

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Ravioli della Salsiccia dei Bartolini

Christmas Day, New Year’s Day, Easter Sunday, and Thanksgiving all featured one dish, each and every year, and that was a platter of ravioli. Oh, to be sure, there was the obligatory roast of beef, or pork, or lamb, or turkey cooked to perfection on the table, too, along with all the customary fixin’s. None of it made any difference to me, for my eyes were fixated on the platter of pasta pillows. Everything else was a distraction to which “The Others”, my ravioli-eating competition, would, hopefully, fall prey. “Have some more turkey.” “Want some potatoes with that?” “Save room for dessert.” All music to my ears. As they sampled — and re-sampled — each and every one of Mom’s lovingly prepared dishes, only I remained true to the cause. It was ravioli all the way!

Back then we only had two filling recipes for our ravioli. The meat filling recipe I shared HERE and another, not yet shared, that’s used in soup ravioli (cappelletti) which is traditionally served for lunch on Christmas Day, as well as on other special occasions throughout the year. Well, that was until a few years ago. I had finally mastered the family sausage recipe when a friend asked if I’d ever made his favorite, sausage ravioli. I hadn’t and a subsequent phone call to Zia confirmed that no other Bartolini had either. Well, that just wouldn’t do.

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It wasn’t long before I had made a half-recipe of ricotta and followed that with a couple of pounds of sausage, setting aside a pound of the seasoned meat. After cooking some chopped spinach and gathering some grated Pecorino Romano cheese, I was ready to go. I didn’t pay too much attention to amounts. This was just a test to see if these flavors would blend successfully — and they did. My next trip home, Zia and I made a batch of the filling, paying close attention to the ingredients’ amounts. The ravioli not only passed her taste tests, we devoted an entire Ravioli Day to the making of the new Bartolini Sausage Ravioli. If that isn’t acceptance, I don’t know what is. Today’s recipe is the result our collaboration.

Please note. When making sausage ravioli, there is but one commandment to follow: Know Thy Sausage. Compared to most store-bought or strongly seasoned homemade sausage, Bartolini sausage is rather mild — no fennel seed, for example — so I use a little less ricotta than specified in the recipe. That allows the sausage’s flavors to be more predominant. Most sausage meat tends to run on the salty side, as does Pecorino Romano cheese. Because of this, no salt is added to the ravioli filling. Before making your filling, be sure to fry a little of the sausage meat for a taste, adjusting the filling’s seasoning and, if necessary, ingredient amounts, accordingly.

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Bartolini Sausage Ravioli Filling Recipe

Yield: See Notes below. 

Ingredients

  • pasta dough — recipe found HERE.
  • 1 lb. sausage meat, cooked and well-drained — recipe found HERE.
  • 1 pkg (10 oz) frozen chopped spinach, cooked and well-drained
  • 1 cup ricotta — recipe found HERE.
  • 1 cup grated Pecorino Romano cheese
  • 1 egg, slightly beaten

Directions

  1. Sauté meat over med-high heat until browned.
  2. Use meat grinder to finely process the meat. (See Notes.) Add all the ingredients into a mixing bowl and mix until well-combined.
  3. Cover the filling and refrigerate for a few hours or overnight.
  4. Once the filling has rested, you can begin making your ravioli.

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Ravioli Recap

To see a more complete set of instructions for making ravioli with dies, click HERE.

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Notes

When I recently made these ravioli, I made 1 batch of this filling and 2 batches (8 eggs) of Mom’s pasta dough. I came away with 22 doz ravioli and 10 oz (284 g) of excess pasta dough, with which I made hand-cut linguine.  Now, I probably could have gotten away with using 6 eggs to make the pasta but that would have cut it close. I’d rather have too much pasta dough than find out I’ve not enough and have to make more. Besides, the linguine were delicious!

You do not need a meat grinder to make sausage; a food processor may be used instead. Place some meat into the bowl and pulse the blades until a coarse grind is achieved. Do not just turn it on and let it process. You’re not making pâté. When using sausage meat for ravioli, after it’s cooked, place it in the bowl and pulse it a few times until a smaller grind is achieved.

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Pasta Equipment

I’ve been asked by a few people to talk about the pasta making equipment that I own. Since this is a ravioli post, I’ll start there.

I’ve two ravioli making attachments. One is for my stand mixer and the other attaches to my hand-cranked pasta machine. I’m not all that impressed with either of them. Both have a hopper, situated in the center, for the filling. Dough sheets are fed on either sides of the hopper, passing over a die as the filling drops. The ravioli are formed by the pressure exerted by rollers. My problem with both is that the dough sheets are thicker than what I am accustomed to using. The resultant ravioli have more dough than those of my youth. (Yes, I’m spoilt, but in the best possible way.) You, however, may very well find these ravioli to be acceptable — and that’s just fine. Be forewarned, though, that if the dough sheets are not thick enough, the filling will “run” between the ravioli, making one big mess.

Here is an instructional video to show you how the stand mixer attachment works. The hand-cranked pasta machine attachment works in very much the same way.

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Anyone who has seen my ravioli posts will know that I prefer to use ravioli dies to make my filled pastas. Each will result in a ravioli of a unique size. Starting top-left in the photo below, this die will create 12 ravioli that are 2 inches (5 cm) square. (Bear in mind that, no matter the die used, each raviolo will expand a bit when cooked.) It’s interesting to note that this was the original size of the ravioli that Mom and Zia made by hand until we bambini came into the picture. These were too large for us to handle on our own and our parents had to cut them for us to eat. To help our ravioli dinners go more smoothly, Mom and Zia began making ravioli that were small enough for us little ones to handle on our own.

Which brings us to the die top-right of the picture. This will create 24 ravioli that are 1.25 inches (3.2 cm) square and this most closely resembles the size Mom & Zia made, and Zia continues to make, to this day.

Moving to the bottom-left of the photo, this die will create 40 raviolini that are 3/4 inch (2 cm) square.  Mom used these raviolini, calling them cappelletti, in soup. Try as I might, I’ve never gotten the hang of this die. The filling bowl is mighty small, the dough must be mighty pliable, and I end up mighty frustrated, which brings us to …

… the die located bottom-right of the photo. I use this die to make my cappelletti. Each cappelletti is 1 inch (2.5 cm) square and the die will make 48 of the pasta pillows. They may not be as petite as Mom’s but I can make these.

In the center of the photo is a round cappelletti stamp. This is the traditional shape for cappelletti. There was just no way Mom would ever have found the time to individually stamp enough cappelletti for a family of five. Frankly, I don’t know how she did it with the smallest of these dies but she did, repeatedly.

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Lastly, in a recent post, I mentioned that Santa gave me a stand mixer attachment that makes a number of pastas — spaghetti, macaroni of 2 sizes, bucatini, fusilli, and rigatoni. I mentioned that the spaghetti was perfectly made but that some of the other pastas were thicker than what one would purchase at a grocery. This is not a problem for me for the superior taste of homemade pasta far outweighs any concerns about its thickness. Thinking that the eggs in my pasta dough may have been the cause for the difference, I said I’m make some dough using water and semolina flour to see if thinner pasta would result. Well, last week I made the dough and the pasta was no different from that which was made with the “egg dough.” Although I’ve no photos of rigatoni made with a pasta dough made with eggs, I did take pictures of rigatoni made with “eggless” pasta dough and compared it to a manufactured brand.

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In the photo on the top, the raw, store-bought rigatoni is on the left and a freshly made specimen is on the right. Beneath that photo is another, similarly arranged picture, and both pastas are cooked. You can see that the homemade rigatoni are thicker than store-bought. The same holds true for the homemade bucatini, both macaroni, and fusilli. It is yours to decide whether that difference in thickness is a deal breaker.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

I know. It’s still Christmas in your home and the last thing you want to consider right now is dinner on New Year’s Day. Well, if you want to make that dinner truly special, you’ll need plenty of time so that you can find a picnic ham, skin-on, to make a Bartolini family favorite on the first day of the New Year. Pork Roast with Fennel, Porchetta con Finnocchio, is a spectacular dish, one sure to impress you dinner guests as you start 2013 off on the right foot. You can find the recipe by clicking HERE.

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The Bartolini Clan hopes that Yours was a Wonderful Christmas

and

May Peace Reign in 2013.

Happy New Year!

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Eel in the Style of Le Marche — Anguille alla Marchigiana

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Our ship came in! This morning, I made what has become a daily call to the Italian market and learned that eels had been delivered late yesterday afternoon. I called a friend and within an hour, we were standing in front of the fish counter, watching the fishmonger net today’s entrée. Not but a few hours later, here I sit blogging about the dinner. Not too shabby, well, unless you happen to be an eel.

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Throughout much of Italy, eel is a dish served traditionally around the holidays but is most commonly prepared in the southern portions of the country, with Naples famous for its eel. Very often one of the fishes served during Christmas Eve’s Feast of the 7 Fishes, eel is considered to be good luck for those who eat it. This is a very old custom dating back to the days when people believed snakes to be evil because of their role in the story of Adam & Eve. Because it so closely resembles a serpent, by eating eel one was symbolically triumphing over the devil and good fortune was sure to follow. I don’t know if that’s true but I’m buying a few lottery tickets, just in case.

In the old two-flat, I can’t say that eating eel was a tradition at all. In fact, I only remember seeing it one time back then. I must have been no more than 5 years old because I could barely see over the edge of the sink. Even though “barely,” I did manage to get a glimpse of a sink full of the slimy devils. Needless to say, it was a sight that left a lasting impression. Speaking with Zia, that is probably the last time eel was prepared there. So, today’s post wasn’t just a recipe. It was yet another memory test for my long-suffering Zia. I must say, though, having just finished a delicious dinner, Zia came through again. The eel flesh not only remained intact, it’s flavor wasn’t overcome by the tomatoes and, in fact, the sauce had a mild seafood taste throughout. Now I just have to figure out a way to get some eel over to Michigan so she, too, can enjoy the fruits of her memory.

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As she suggested, I prepared the anguille like we do much of our seafood, in a simple tomato sauce. In fact, this marinara is almost bland for there are no strong herbs or flavors present. Eel has a mild fish flavor and using something like organo or marjoram would definitely overpower it, leaving a tomato sauce devoid of any taste of seafood. We agreed that the eel might disintegrate if allowed to cook entirely in the sauce, so it was briefly pan-fried before being added it to the tomatoes.  Beyond that, the only change I brought to the recipe was with the basil. My family always tore by hand or chopped fresh basil before adding it to a sauce. Not long ago, I watched as Lidia added an entire stem of basil to her sauce and fished it out before serving. Well, if it’s good enough for Lidia, it is certainly good enough for me. If you, however,  don’t feel like adding a stem of fresh basil, then tear or chop away.

Oh! I should warn tell you one more thing about today’s protein. These eel are alive when purchased. You can bring them home and “take care of them” yourself or you can let your fishmonger do it for you. Um. No question. Let your fishmonger kill, gut, trim, and even chop the eel to your specifications. If you’re considering taking on any of the duties I’ve just mentioned, let me tell you that the term “slippery as an eel” is far more fact than fiction. I chose to chop the eel myself and it was a mistake, one that I’ll never repeat.

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Anguille alla Marchigiana Recipe

Ingredients

  • 3 lbs. eel, cleaned with head & tail removed, chopped in 2 – 3 inch pieces.
  • 4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil, divided
  • 1 large sweet onion, sliced thin
  • 1 clove garlic, minced or grated
  • 4 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped, divided
  • 1 large can (28.5 oz) tomatoes
  • 1 stem fresh basil
  • 1 cup white wine
  • salt & pepper
  • thickly sliced, toasted Italian bread, for serving.

Directions

  1. In a large sauce pan, heat 2 tbsp of olive oil over med-high heat. Add onion and sauté for about 3 minutes before adding 3 tbsp of the chopped parsley. Continue to sauté until the onion is translucent, about 5 more minutes.
  2. Add garlic and sauté for a minute.
  3. Add tomatoes, basil, season lightly with salt & pepper, and bring pan’s contents to the boil before reducing to a simmer.
  4. After sauce has simmered for 15 minutes, heat the remaining oil in a large frying pan over med-high heat.
  5. Once the oil is hot, add the pieces of eel and sauté for about 7 minutes, being careful to insure that the pieces are evenly cooked.
  6. Carefully remove the eel and place it in the tomato sauce. Season lightly with salt & pepper.
  7. Use the white wine to deglaze the frying pan. Continue to cook the wine until it is reduced by half. Add the wine reduction to the tomato sauce and carefully stir the pan’s contents.
  8. Increase the heat to high, bring the sauce to the boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for another 15 minutes.
  9. Taste and adjust seasoning, if needed, one last time.
  10. To serve, set a piece of toasted bread on each plate and place eel pieces on top, followed by a generous amount of sauce. Garnish each serving with some of the remaining chopped parsley.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

Calamari SaladA little over a year ago, I gave an account of how the Feast of the 7 Fishes came about. It was part of the post in which I shared Mom’s recipe for a Calamari Salad. Follow this recipe’s guidelines and you’ll have perfectly prepared calamari, not rubber bands. That post also included a round-up of 11 additional seafood recipes for anyone needing help with gathering 7 seafood dishes for the Feast. You can see it all by simply clicking HERE.

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What’s this? You’re still a fish short?

Here’s a round-up of this past year’s seafood posts.

So, combining both posts, you now have 18 recipes from which to choose dishes for your Feast of 7 Fishes. Still having trouble? Try this: start your meal with Mom’s Calamari Salad. Next serve a bowl brimming with Brodetto. See? You’ve got 6 Fishes out-of-the-way already. Now, finish your meal with a bang: Branzino al Cartoccio. That’s 7 Fishes and you haven’t even broken a sweat.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Mom’s Brodo

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Baked Whiting

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Merluzzo al Forno

Today’s recipe comes from a half-century ago, a time when television shows were only broadcast in black and white; when a trip to the airport was something eagerly anticipated; when all (US) phones had a dial and many of those phones, being owned by Ma Bell, were rented; when music was purchased on large, black vinyl discs; and when Catholics were forbidden to eat meat on Fridays lest they face the fires of eternal damnation. Yes, that long ago.

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When I think back to those days, I’m amazed at the variety of fish that found its way to our dinner table. Aside from the usual guests — i.e., baccalà (salted cod), stoccafisso (dried cod), tuna, vongole (clams), smelt, calamari (squid), perch, sepia, lumache (snails) — there were infrequent visitors but I was far too young to remember their names. Zia, my very own Encyclopedia Italiana, can’t remember their names either. So, you can well imagine my surprise when the fishmonger at the Italian market identified a type of fish in his display case as “merluzzo.” Merluzzo! I’d not heard or seen that fish in almost 50 years. I bought a couple, rushed home, and phoned my Aunt immediately.

Zia was every bit as surprised as I was. I really enjoy these phone calls and they’re why I spend so much time investigating a market’s pasta aisle, the cheese counter, the produce department, and interrogating the fishmonger. It makes my day when I uncover some treasure from long ago and then phone her with the news. To be sure, no matter the discovery, there’ll be some in a bag, a box, or a cooler the next time I come for a visit. And that dinner will be full of memories, some of which I’ll then share with you.

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Now then, before discussing the recipe, I can no longer ignore l’elefante nella stanza. Our friends from across The Pond refer to merluzzo as “hake”, whereas here merluzzo is called “whiting.” (My sources on this “side” being my fishmongers and Fabio Trabocchi’s cookbook Cucina of Le Marche.) Although I am by no means an expert, I’ve learned that although the two fish aren’t exactly the same, the names “whiting” and “hake” are used interchangeably.  For the sake of argument, henceforth I’ll call today’s fish “merluzzo”. You, then, can translate it to mean whatever you like,  be that “whiting” or “hake”.  ChgoJohn, Peace Maker.

I’m going to dispense with my normal recipe format, for this dish doesn’t need it. Merluzz’ are small fish. Scaled and gutted, the 2 pictured were about 9 inches (23 cm) long and together weighed about 8 ounces (227 g). To stuff them, you’ll need about 1/3 of a cup of the breading mixture per fish and you may wish to make more, depending upon how you’ll cook or serve your fish.

This stuffing mixture is used in a number of the Bartolini family recipes. Grandma’s Stuffed Vegetables and Grandpa’s Barbecued Shrimp are 2 that I’ve shared so far. We, also, use it to stuff calamari and again with other baked fish, the recipes for which are forthcoming.  The only difference in its composition from one dish to the next is that, with seafood, lemon juice might be added.  It’s easy enough to make. Just combine (Panko) breadcrumbs, chopped fresh parsley, a little grated or minced garlic, salt & pepper, and olive oil. If you like, squeeze a little fresh lemon juice into the mix. Learning how much olive oil to use gave me fits. I pestered Mom with questions and was forever touching Zia’s mixture to get “the feel” of it.  You do not want a breading that is sopping wet with olive oil but neither do you want it barely moist. Too wet and you’ll have a greasy dish; not wet enough and it will dry out, and possibly burn, before the dish has finished cooking. Practice makes perfect.

Once the breading is made, salt & pepper the fish, inside and out, use the breading mixture to stuff it, and add a light drizzle of olive oil. Back in The Day, Grandpa would then secure the merluzzo in a hinged grill basket and place them on his barbecue, turning them after a few minutes. When finished, they would be removed to a serving platter and brought to the table. As you can see, that’s not what I’ve done.

To bake, place the stuffed fish on a lightly oiled baking sheet. Place any excess breading on top of the fish before drizzling with oil, and then place in a pre-heated oven of 375˚F (190˚C). Bake for about 20 minutes or until the breadcrumbs are golden brown. Times may vary depending upon the oven and size of the merluzzo. Remove to a serving platter and serve immediately. That’s still not as is pictured but this is how my family baked and served merluzzo.

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One way I like to prepare them is to roast cherry/grape tomatoes with the fish. I make extra breading and use it to cover the fish. Once roasted, the resulting flavors of roasted tomato and breading are reminiscent of Grandma’s Stuffed Vegetables.

A third way to serve them is to prepare even more breading mixture and use it to as a bed and coating for the roasting fish. Once roasted, place the breading and fish atop cooked pasta that has been lightly dressed with olive oil and chopped parsley. Roasted cherry tomatoes would work here, too.

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Notes

Don’t let a fear of fish bones prevent you from trying merluzzo. The bones are all attached to the spine and the “top-side” fillet readily lifts off of the fish with your fork. Once exposed, the entire spine is then easily removed, making the “bottom-side” fillet accessible. Just be careful with the meat taken from around the gills and you shouldn’t encounter any bones while eating.

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It’s déjà vu all over again …

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As I’ve said, seafood is the protein of choice in Italian households on the night before Christmas. My Brodetto, or fisherman’s stew, uses a variety of seafood in a lightly seasoned tomato broth to create a very special dish which, coincidentally, is perfect for Christmas Eve. Click HERE to learn how to make this stew.

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Coming soon to a monitor near you …

Next week’s recipe is a mystery dish, my memories of which predate even merluzzo. As such, I’ve no teaser photos for you. I can’t even guarantee that I’ll find it before next Wednesday. If I don’t, I may delay next week’s post a day or two, hoping that something turns up. Don’t you worry. I’ve another seafood recipe, all set to post, if I’m not successful. Stay tuned …

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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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