Archive for the 'pasta' Category
Pardon the hasty photo – it was taken as the boys were in the car, waiting for me to go to Banff.
About forty seconds after this shot was taken, I poured it into a recycled plastic container with no structural integrity, pouring the peanut sauce down my leg and all over the lemon-blueberry tarts I was also packing to take along. Insert expletives. No photos please.
I cleaned up and made it to Banff, and am now all stretched out on clean, dog hair-free sheets and perfect pillows while the boys are at the pool working up an appetite. I have such a soft spot for this place, partly because we grew up coming here on ski weekends, and partly because it’s a castle in the mountains. Also: Marilyn Monroe stayed here!
At 27, after twisting her ankle on the set of River of No Return, she came to the Banff Springs to recuperate. (It’s hard to tell, but she has a cast on one ankle in the photo above. There’s a great series of photographs taken of her over the course of her week here and around the Banff townsite at the Daily Mail.)
It occurred to me that this weekend, while Marilyn isn’t here, half the Moms from Calgary and surrounding areas may be – not just to stay, but for their famous Sunday brunch or high tea. It further occurred to me that Mothers’ Day is the busiest day of the year for most restaurants, and those people who forgot to reserve (or have multiple mothers to celebrate) may overflow into the night before. Which is to say the restaurants in Banff on this beautiful Saturday evening may be a little full. And so I made sesame peanut noodles to bring along and stash in the hotel room fridge.
It’s also a great fridge cleaner, if you like me have half a red pepper, a roasted chicken breast and the stumpy end of a cucumber in your fridge. You could toss in broccoli or pea pods, or shrimp or tofu. You could throw in the entire contents of your fridge, chopped into bite-sized pieces, and call it cathartic. Quantities matter not at all, as is the case with most salads.
Cold sesame noodles travel well. They’re tasty cold, make kids and grown-ups happy, and anywhere you find yourself with a Tupperware full of them you have yourself a picnic.
Happy Mothers’ Day! To all moms, those who have moms, and those who mother others.
Cold Sesame Peanut Noodles
adapted from this one, although there are a bazillion similar versions out there
1/2 lb fresh thin Chinese egg noodles
a few stalks of asparagus, cut into 1-inch lengths
a few broccoli florets
half a bell pepper, thinly sliced
a chunk of cucumber, cut into sticks
a few pea pods
chopped leftover cooked chicken (optional)
sesame seeds or chopped peanuts or cilantro, for garnish (optional)
Dressing:
3 Tbsp. rice vinegar
3 Tbsp. peanut butter or sesame paste
3 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. honey
1 Tbsp. dark sesame oil
a small squirt of sriracha or garlic-chili paste
Bring a large pot of water to a boil, add the noodles and cook according to the package directions – they should only take about 5 minutes. As they cook, chop your veg, and throw any green ones (asparagus, broccoli) into the pot with the noodles for the last minute or two, which will brighten them up and tenderize them a bit.
Drain the noodles (along with any veg you added) in a colander, then rinse with cold water to stop them from cooking. Drain well and put in a large bowl. Add any other veggies and meat you want to add, or none at all.
In a small jar, shake up the dressing ingredients and pour overtop. Toss with tongs. Sprinkle with sesame seeds, peanuts or cilantro and serve immediately or refrigerate until needed. Serves 4.
May 12 2012 | pasta and vegetarian | 7 Comments »
Hello! Again. I may have mentioned, we were out in Tofino, where construction on a new bike path disconnected our internet cable. Which meant a lot of hanging out in coffee shops and restaurants and rainy parking lots, trolling for wireless connections. When we had already eaten dinner and had far too much coffee, it became habit each evening for me to go park out behind the Shelter to do what needed doing – even streamlined, the wireless requirements piled up. Which is all to say that when I did have a connection, it was used to send files or book things or answer emails or resize photos or get stories researched or submitted, and keep up with my posts over at Babble (as I’m contractually obligated to) – and you guys wound up getting the shaft. Sorry.
And I’ve so badly wanted to tell you about this pasta. In other (related) news, I read a book this week. By halfway through I wanted to start again at the beginning. In An Everlasting Meal: Cooking with Economy and Grace, Tamar Adler had me riveted with the idea of boiling vegetables! Letting them pale! And not just utilizing leftovers, but intentionally creating them! Riveting stuff for those of us who would choose how to poach an egg for our bedtime reading. It’s a must read for anyone who eats, and particularly for those who don’t have someone in their employ to cook for them.
Tamar approaches food from a standpoint not of what recipe do I want to make and do I have the ingredients to assemble said recipe, but what do I have, what’s available or in season, and how do I prepare it so that it tastes good? And further, how do I use those bits that might otherwise be tossed? Because stale bread and cilantro stems are food too. Every page has a snippet or two or three that I want to highlight or post-it or quote or tweet. You should probably just read it yourself – it would be much easier.
This wasn’t dinner tonight (by dinnertime we were still digesting porchetta sandwiches from Meat & Bread), but was a few days ago. Luckily I had a head of kale (brought in the car from Calgary – waste not) and distracting thoughts of what it might be like to cook pasta in seawater. And a chunk of cornbread from SoBo that my totally out-there mind thought would work as breadcrumbs. (They did – but without an oven they had to be toasted in a bit of butter and oil in a skillet on the stovetop. Which was just fine.) It’s often said that enough salt must be added to a pot of water destined to cook pasta to make it taste like seawater. Here I was cooking down seawater to make salt – it seemed a bit ridiculous to add a small handful of it back to the water on my stove. So I poured a jar of seawater through my coffee filter into the cooking pot – and nervously added about as much tap water, considering I was getting almost a quarter cup of salt per litre or so. Still, all the salt you add to pasta water doesn’t actually make it into the pasta, but it does effectively season it. I think this is why restaurant food tends to taste so much better – they just know how to properly season. Most often its not the fancy bouquet garni or exotic herbs and spices, but just enough salt.
So I cooked down the kale with olive oil and garlic, and tossed it with pasta and more oil, some saved starchy pasta water, the grated heel of a chunk of grizzly Gouda (also toted from home), and topped each bowl with cornbread crumbs and a marigold-yolked egg from Nanoose Bay. (Here, a good egg makes all the difference in the world.)
The whole point is to cook, to create and taste and make ingredients into something better and more edible than they were when you brought them home from the market or store. But. Every time I do a post where I say I did this and this and this, and got this! I get comments and emails saying that’s all well and good, but WHERE’S THE RECIPE? You don’t always need one, laid out in cups and teaspoons and point-form directions. I often say that although I write recipes for a living, I think having a recipe often stifles those delicious creative juices and can prevent people from actually cooking. Who follows a recipe every night of the week? It’s not always about having a half teaspoon of oregano or cooking an onion for 5-6 minutes, it’s ideas and techniques that help get a good meal on the table. It’s trying this and that and seeing how it goes for you.
So if you’re confident in your pasta-making abilities – and even (especially) if you’re not – go, do. Here’s a semblance of a recipe if you need one. (No hard feelings.)
Pasta with Poached Eggs and Garlicky Kale for Two
enough pasta – spaghetti, fettuccine or linguine – for two
olive and/or canola oil, for cooking
kale, roughly chopped (pull out the stems first)
3 garlic cloves, crushed
2 good eggs
a handful of grated aged Gouda (such as Grizzly Gouda) or Parmesan
toasted breadcrumbs (I used crumbled cornbread) – optional
freshly ground black pepper
In a large pot of heavily salted water, cook the pasta according to the package directions. Remove a cup of its cooking liquid before draining.
Meanwhile, heat a generous drizzle of oil in a large skillet set over medium-high heat. Add the kale and cook for a few minutes, until it begins to wilt. Add the garlic and a splash of water (a couple tablespoonfuls), cover and cook for 2-3 minutes, then remove the lid and cook until the excess liquid has cooked off and the kale is tender.
Push the kale aside in the pan and add another skiff of oil to the empty side. Crack two eggs into it and cook them sunny-side-up or over easy, leaving the yolks runny enough to help dress the pasta when they break.
When the pasta has drained, transfer it to a shallow bowl (or two) and drizzle with oil, and add the grated cheese. Toss with tongs, adding a splash of hot pasta water until the mixture is saucy and well coated. Add the kale and quickly toss it in, then divide between bowls and top with an egg, crispy breadcrumbs and a good grinding of black pepper. Serve immediately.
Serves 2ish.
April 05 2012 | pasta | 17 Comments »
So here’s the thing. We’re in Tofino, having decided to take off and find some green over spring break. We found it – lots of it – but also found that construction crews somehow severed the wire that was our internet connection, and the oven is broken. First world problems, I know. But that’s how it came to be that I’m sitting in my car in the rain, having trolled the town with my laptop, looking for an internet connection so I could answer some emails, send some files and post this, what with all the wireless access coffee shops being closed in the evenings. I found a lovely strong signal behind The Shelter – thanks guys! – which means I have a perfectly valid excuse for going for breakfast lunch and dinner while we’re here so that I may check my email.
Mike is no doubt wondering what happened to me. Then again not, as he does know me quite well.
As always we arrived with a carload of groceries, and plans to eat out at the many fine eateries here (they really do have a disproportionate number of fantastic restaurants and food trucks for such a small town). But still, I like cooking out here, looking out over the stormy ocean and occasional bald eagle. I found a bag of these roasted butternut squash and ricotta ravioli in the freezer – something I had made last time, and froze, I suppose. If you’re tiring of winter veg and thick-skinned squash, these might ease the burden a bit. Wonton wrappers are essentially small square pasta sheets, and make it easy to make ravioli from scratch. To make enormous tortellini, dampen the two bottom corners and bring them together, as if they were holding hands, and pinch them closed.
Roasted Butternut Squash & Ricotta Ravioli
wonton wrappers, thawed
1 butternut squash
canola or olive oil, for cooking
salt & pepper to taste
1 cup ricotta or soft goat cheese
1 tsp. – 1 Tbsp. maple syrup
Preheat the oven to 400°F. Split the squash in half lengthwise, scoop out the seeds, drizzle with oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper and bake on a rimmed sheet or in a baking dish for 40 minutes, or until soft.
Scoop out the cooled roasted squash (you can do this in advance if you like while you’re cooking something else, and stash the squash in the fridge for a few days) and mash it with ricotta, a wee drizzle of maple syrup (and some of flax oil if you want to boost omega 3s) and some salt and pepper. Assemble them one or two at a time, placing a small spoonful in the middle of a wrapper, dipping your finger in water and running it along two edges, then fold over and press to seal, squishing out any air bubbles in the process.
Once the ravioli are assembled they can be frozen in a single layer and then transferred to freezer bags, or dropped into boiling water (don’t crowd the pot) for 3-5 minutes, until they float to the surface and the pasta is tender. Drain well and serve with butter – browned butter, if at all possible.
March 27 2012 | freezable and pasta and vegetarian | 11 Comments »
I know you guys are all gaga over one-dish dinner ideas, and I’ve got a good one for ya. Everyone devoured this, and Mike asked if there was any way it could be put into regular rotation. It seems to me the sort of thing that might make most husbands happy, if I may generalize here.
Again, my inspiration came from desperation – to use the last of two tubs of baby spinach and some mushrooms that had not quite shriveled up and died. It could have taken a handful of grape tomatoes, or some chopped red pepper; any number of wilting veg would do well here. W always begs for cheese tortellini, one of his first toddler foods that still seems toddler-ish in my mind, but not here. It came together in under 20 minutes and the result was like an upscale Hamburger Helper of sorts. It should be noted that it took less time to prepare than HH, and didn’t come out of a box, nor was it any shade of florescent orange. It fed five of us, happily.
The recipe started here, but let’s face it – I never have fennel bulbs and fronds in my house. Too licoricey. It could, however, make use of any number of pasta-friendly ingredients.
Tortellini with Mushrooms, Spinach and Italian Sausage
1 lb pkg. fresh 3 cheese tortellini
a big spoonful (or two) of pesto
1 lb. (2-3) mild or spicy Italian sausages
2 cups sliced mushrooms
a few garlic cloves, chopped or crushed (optional)
1/2 cup chicken stock or water
1/2-1 cup cream (half & half or heavy)
a few handfuls torn baby spinach
grated Parmesan cheese, for serving
In a large pot of boiling water, cook the tortellini until it’s just done, according to the package directions. Drain and toss with pesto.
In a large, heavy skillet set over medium-high heat, heat a drizzle of oil and squeeze the sausage out of its casing into the pan. Sauté, breaking the meat up with a spoon, until it’s about halfway cooked; add the mushrooms and garlic and cook until the meat is no longer pink and any excess moisture has cooked off. Add the stock or water and stir to scrape the brown bits off the bottom of the pan, then stir in the cream. Cook for a few minutes, stirring, until the sauce thickens slightly.
Add the tortellini to the pan and tear in the spinach. Cook, stirring, for another minute or two, until everything is heated through and the spinach wilts. Serve in shallow bowls topped with Parmesan cheese. Serves 4-6.
March 13 2012 | one dish and pasta | 17 Comments »
We’ve been in getting-outta-Dodge mode for the past few days. Sadly, the car hasn’t – it’s in the shop with a pooched clutch. And so while we pine by the phone for the (completely awesome) mechanics to call and let us know we’re free to go get the H. out of this snow, I’ve been diligently plowing through the perishables in the fridge. There were lots of bits of cheese, and this not eating wheat thing combined with neverending snow has been causing me to Jones for starchy things big time. Like a big ol’ pot of baked mac & cheese.
Also – Pat from Winnipeg was kind enough to email me with some wheat-free pasta advice, suggesting Mrs. Leeper’s corn pasta (she has no affiliation), which I promptly went out and bought a bag of.
A lot of you have been emailing and tweeting wheat-free advice – thanks! – and some have been asking why the h. I would want to do such a thing. I tend to agree. I’ll spare you the details of my symptoms, besides the brain fog, which my dad is convinced has more to do with lack of sleep than my morning bagel, but it’s just to see if I react when I do eat some. And to wean myself off, because whether it’s bread and baked goods or sugar or fat, the more I eat the more I want. The less you feed your cravings the weaker they get. And cravings, I think, are more difficult to resist than hunger.
Yes, it’s harder than I thought. It has made me more conscious of what I eat, and the fog has cleared somewhat, although I didn’t get the boost of energy I thought I would. (On days when I’ve been subsisting on bread I tend to feel like I’m tied to a piano.) And the foggy brain part can’t be all gone, because the other day I tried to put W’s jacket on while he insisted that HE DIDN’T HAVE A SHIRT ON YET. I’m not doing it in an attempt to lose weight, although I admit I did allow myself to get my hopes up a teeny bit, having heard from a bazillion or so people over the years that when you give up wheat, you drop pounds like crazy! Like that! (Finger snap!) And I figured that just by default of having NOT PICKED AT ANY (any!) of the delicious crumbs on our blueberry big crumb cake we made at class last Wednesday, nor any of the three (THREE!) batches of warm scones with cheese, olives, berries (not all together) – nor anything (freshly baked Raincoast Crisps topped with shaved Asiago! Freshly made samosas, using Naheed’s mom’s recipe!) at my Saturday class, or waffles Sunday morning, or pulled pork on soft brioche rolls for dinner, that it might count for something.
And so the other day I went to the gym after work, and hopped on the right and proper medical scale, and wow, check it out!! I GAINED SIX POUNDS. Awesome.
My plan is to stick it out a little longer for scientific purposes, make sure my gut is no longer used to massive influxes of it and then have a crispy cod club whenever we manage to make it to Tofino, and see how strongly it protests. Mwaa haa haa. I’m really hoping nothing happens and I can just go back to having a bagel already.
But back to the pasta. I’ve been eating my share of rice and oats and granola, but still craving something to fill that void that bread left when I sent it packing. While it is a pretty shade of corn yellow, I might not have been able to detect that it wasn’t wheat had I not bought it myself. It’s a little lighter (really! I assumed corn pasta might be a bit heavier, like corn bread) and softer than wheat macaroni, without being mushy. It’s like it was made for mac & cheese.
As I’ve been channeling my inner gluten-free girl, I deferred to her mac & cheese expertise. I’ve always made it the same way – with pasta and a cheese sauce started with a roux – rice flour is a perfectly effective thickener, but she had a version made with cottage cheese, and I had ricotta in the fridge. So I added the container to the drained pasta in the pot, along with shredded bits of Parmesan, cheddars and gruyere, mixed it up, then topped it with two slices of grainy bread blitzed with a bit more Parmesan and a drizzle of olive oil.
(Yes – it was regular wheat bread – you could use gluten-free bread of course. Instead, after baking (at 350F until bubbly) I opted to carefully dissect mine, scooping gingerly from the bottom of the pot and avoiding the crumbs. Yum.)
It’s well after dinnertime now. Sounds like they didn’t finish the car again. Boo. Maybe tomorrow.
March 23 2011 | pasta | 28 Comments »
Next »
