When summer hits here, and I mean really hits, it means we’re in for 2.5 months of humidity that penetrates so deeply that even ones bones feel saturated with sweat.
I rarely relish the thought of spending any time at all in a kitchen with a heated oven, which means I become even more committed to meals that require a pot, a stovetop, and little else (although, in this case, a food processor helps).
I’ve made this recipe twice in the past month and I expect to make it a lot more. Topped with roasted or grilled veggies, it’s a complete meal. The avocado imparts a smooth, buttery texture while the walnuts add just enough crunch.
Plus, skip the Parmesan, and you have a sauce fit for a vegan.
Avocado Pesto Makes 4 healthy servings
1 pound of pasta
2 ripe avocados
1 packed cup fresh basil leaves
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup walnuts
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
olive oil, as needed
1) Boil a large pot of water and cook the pasta according to package directions. Before draining, reserve about 1 cup of the pasta water and set aside both the water and the cooked pasta.
2) Place the avocado flesh, basil, lemon juice, garlic, grated Parmesan, walnuts, salt and pepper in a food processor and blend until the walnuts are finely chopped. If the mixture is too thick to blend, slowly pour in some olive oil.
3) Spoon the pesto over the pasta and toss together. Add in the pasta water a little at a time if the pesto still needs to be thinned out. Serve immediately.
Sometimes you need to be able to throw everything into a pot and call it a meal.
I had one of those days yesterday. April was taunting me with one of its proverbial showers when I’d already grown re-accustomed to the warm North Carolina spring and my sewing machine wasn’t cooperating and I was grumpy and the pimple on my chin was growing large enough to declare autonomy. Basically, in no mood for cooking. Or human interaction, for that matter.
The last time I had this dish it was made for me by a dear friend, and I find that when I need a lift, summoning up a fond food memory often does the trick. (With the proper meal accompaniment, of course.)
Now that I’ve made it myself, I am officially a convert. The pasta starch imparts a creamy texture to the sauce and the steps could not be easier. It’s a meal worth sharing, and I am grateful that I was able to share it with my friend — and now with you.
1) Combine first eight ingredients in a pot wide enough to allow the pasta to lie flat against the bottom. Add 2 sprigs of basil and 2 tablespoons of olive oil.
2) Put the pot over high heat and bring to a boil. Stir regularly for about 10 minutes.
3) Serve the pasta with the remaining 2 sprigs of basil, drizzle with the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil, and sprinkle with Parmesan cheese.
More than a year ago, I was hanging out in Italy. Mostly just eating, but sometimes cooking. Obviously, my life tends to revolve around food as it is, but my fixation was only exacerbated by being in a place where food serves as a language of its own.
The point is, I learned how to make this really amazing, really simple sauce, and then I proceeded to not share the recipe with you for more than a year. My host in Pisa taught me how to make this sauce. That’s right; you’re looking at a real Italian recipe from a real Italian person.
Once you make it, I imagine you’ll forgive me. Basically everything in here is easily substituted, too. Try it with eggplant. Try it with sour cream. Try it without any dairy at all. Then, let me know how it turned out!
Confetti Vegetable Sauce: Serves 4
2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 zucchini, grated
1 squash, grated
1 red pepper, grated
1 tablespoon butter
2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1/2 cup mascarpone cheese
salt & pepper, to taste
your favorite pasta, cooked and drained
1) Heat 1 tablespoon of olive oil in a pan over medium heat. Add zucchini, squash and red pepper. Cook for about 20 minutes, or until most of the water has been cooked off. Drain the vegetables.
2) Place the pan back on the stove and lower the heat to medium-low. Add the remaining tablespoon of olive oil and the tablespoon of butter. Stir in the garlic. Cook until light brown.
3) Stir in the well-drained vegetables until the mixture is very warm. Turn the heat to low and combine the mascarpone cheese. Remove from heat. Add salt and pepper.
4) Spoon sauce onto your favorite pasta and top with fresh basil.
Oh, hey there. Have you missed me? I’ve certainly missed this blog. And cooking.
In the past three weeks, I lunched with friends in Raleigh and said my goodbyes, I packed my life into boxes and suitcases, I flew to New York City, I started a job, and I moved into an apartment in Brooklyn. Somehow, the move was easier than it sounded. I survived, at least.
And now I have a NYC kitchen. You might be surprised to learn that I managed to fit all of my kitchen supplies into it, with room to spare.
The first thing I made was this sauce, just like mom makes. Sweet and savory and hearty and just right for these first cold days of fall.
Folks, I’m baaaaaaaaaack.
Eggplant, Sausage and Roasted Red Pepper Pasta Sauce: Serves 8
three tablespoons olive oil, divided
two red peppers, chopped
1 medium eggplant, cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1 red onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 pound sausage, removed from casings
16 ounces tomato sauce or diced tomatoes
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon dried basil
salt & pepper to taste
feta cheese, if desired
1) Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Spread chopped red peppers evenly on a cookie sheet, drizzle with 1 tablespoon of olive oil, and put in oven. Bake for about 40 minutes, or until soft and slightly blackened around the edges.
2) 10 minutes before the red peppers are done, place a pot on medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Add eggplant and onion. Cook until soft.
3) Meanwhile, cook sausage until browned. Add sausage, roasted red peppers and minced garlic to pot.
4) Stir in tomato sauce, cayenne pepper, oregano, basil, salt and pepper. Cover and cook until bubbling.
5) Serve with pasta and sprinkle with feta cheese.
Typical. I leave in three weeks, and now the weather decides to act somewhat summery.
Then again, I leave in three weeks. I have plenty of time to remember what the sun feels like, and perhaps even don a bikini at an outdoor pool. Also on the agenda: more museums, more clubs, a lake visit, and a trip to Salzburg to pretend I’m in The Sound of Music. I’ll even attempt to take pictures of things other than food, but I’m not making any promises. I can only focus on so many interests, and food trumps scenic vistas any time–probably because they possess the power to make me salivate months after being taken. Mountain ranges do not.
This recipe is an Asian-inspired recipe from a cookbook written by an Australian cookbook author and translated into Germany. Oh, globalization. Incidentally, the cookbook is called something completely different in German, but I prefer the title My Spontaneous Kitchen to the original title since mine usually is, and it suits me. (On a purely tangential note, the German title for the movie Forgetting Sarah Marshall is Never Have Sex with Your Ex.)
Anyway, I’m basically infatuated with this meal. It’s perfect for summer–refreshing, brimming with fresh herbs and vegetables, and light, so long as you don’t consume as much of it as I did. Also, everything comes together in under 20 minutes. Think of it as ramen for grown-ups. (The ones who don’t want hypertension, at least.)
Honey Salmon with Noodles: Serves 4
1 package (8 ounces) Chinese noodles
5 sprigs of cilantro, coarsely chopped
3 mint leaves, sliced
5 basil leaves, sliced
2 zucchini, grated
1 tablespoon lime juice
3 tablespoons soy sauce
4 tablespoons honey, divided
4 salmon filets, cut in strips 1/2 inch wide
salt & pepper
1) Set a pot of water to boil for the noodles and preheat a pan on medium heat for the salmon (you could also grill the salmon). In a large bowl, mix cilantro, mint, basil, zucchini, lime juice, soy sauce and 2 tablespoons of honey.
2) Cook noodles for 3 to 5 minutes. Drain and toss with the sauce. Taste noodles, then add more herbs as desired.
3) Spread the remaining 2 tablespoons of honey on the salmon. Add salt and pepper. Cook salmon on the pan for 2 minutes on each side. Serve over noodles and sprinkle with more cilantro.
Happy Father’s Day! Sadly, mine is across the ocean from me, so I cannot cook for him today, but at least I can promise to make this recipe, or any other, for him when I return. (Dad, this blog post serves as a coupon, of sorts. Redeemable for whenever I’ve recovered from jet lag and financial destitution caused by the unforgiving euro.) I love you, daddy! Thanks for passing on to me your height, sardonicism, and love of cats. I’ve forgiven you for not endowing me with your math skills, don’t worry.
Holiday aside, I was recently accused of not posting enough chicken recipes. I’ve already shared a few of my thoughts on chicken back when I roasted a chicken for the first time, but I do not especially enjoy cooking meat in general, and avoiding meat purchases at the grocery store saves me a decent amount of money. When I do buy meat, I’m pretty particular about where it comes from. A local producer is preferable, but, at the very least, I always buy organic meat, for a variety of environmental and ethical reasons. Still, I’m not as particular as these people:
Nope. I haven’t reached that point… yet.
Since I’m always open to recipe requests, I searched for a simple, summery recipe where I could satisfy my friend Kasey’s desire for more chicken and my desire to become more comfortable in front of the grill. Hopefully I satisfied the former, although my cousin grilled while I prepared the other ingredients, so my grilling experience has not developed further. If one person’s on the grill and the other at the stove, you can knock out this dish in under 30 minutes.
Pasta has been on my mind a lot recently because tomorrow I head to Italy for two weeks. I’ve never been before, and I’ll be staying with my family on an agriturismo in Tuscany. My dreams are saturated with images of fresh, plump mozzarella, vibrant tomatoes and warm bread, all drizzled with silken olive oil, frolicking through lush Italian fields and into my belly. At the very least, I’ll write a mental draft of the version of Eat, Pray, Love that I’d actually want to read, entitled Eat, Eat, Eat. (Interspersed with some sleeping, sunning, and a short walk or two, but that title is significantly less marketable.)
Grilled Chicken & Pesto Pasta: Serves 4
4 small, boneless, skinless chicken breasts
salt & pepper, to taste
10 ounces of pasta (noodles are fine, but bowties would be wonderful, too!)
3 tablespoons reserved pasta water, divided
1/4 cup sundried tomatoes
1/2 tablespoon butter
2 garlic cloves, minced
3/4 cup milk, divided
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons pesto (I’m going to try this recipe with homemade walnut pesto soon)
6 tablespoons cream
1 cup Parmesan cheese, divided
1/4 cup fresh basil, chopped
1) Prepare grill to medium-high heat. Marinate chicken with olive oil, salt and pepper. (I let my chicken marinate for a few hours ahead of time, but right before should be fine, too.) Grill chicken for about 10 minutes, 5 per side, until insides are no longer pink. Set chicken aside to cool, then slice into generous chunks.
2) Cook pasta according to package directions and drain, reserving 3 tablespoons or so of pasta water. Set pasta aside to cool. Add 1 tablespoon of pasta water to a bowl with the sundried tomatoes to restore some of their moisture.
3) Whisk together 1/4 cup of milk and flour in a bowl and set aside. Heat butter in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat. Add garlic to pan and cook for 1 minute, then add then milk and flour mixture, stirring constantly. Mixture should thicken almost immediately. Stir in pesto and remaining 1/2 cup milk and all the cream. Cook until sauce thickens (about 5 minutes). Add remaining 2 tablespoons of pasta water to the sauce and 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese.
4) Pour sauce on top of pasta, along with the chicken. Drain any remaining pasta water from the sundried tomatoes, then add to the pasta. Toss the pasta to coat thoroughly, then garnish with basil and remaining 1/2 cup Parmesan cheese.
In case you were wondering, I made macaroni and cheese for my grandparents this evening. Sure, it’s 70 degrees outside (I can’t stop dwelling on that glorious detail, sorry), but my grandpa is sick and cheese makes everything better.
I followed this Mark Bittman recipe pretty closely, but I used more bread crumbs and grated extra cheese to sprinkle on the top. I’m clearly thumbing my nose at weight-loss-related New Year resolutions.
Next time, I’m using more cheese and adding bacon. Boo-yah!
I love Sundays. The waking-up-lazily-at-11, the excuse to skip straight to lunch, the afternoon nap and, of course, the intensive Sunday dinner. The last few weeks, it seems as though I cannot be happy unless I’m sweating over a hot stove, etc.
Also, my dear friend Katie was coming over to write an article about me for her food writing class, so I had to simultaneously feed and impress her very selective vegetarian palate.
Homemade ravioli fit the bill as sufficiently labor intensive and, ultimately, delicious.
I’ve adapted this recipe to include ricotta cheese in the filling. It’s just not ravioli without ricotta cheese, in my opinion. Actually, it’s just not a meal without cheese, period.
Butternut Squash Ravioli: Filling
1 medium or 2 small butternut squashes, cut in half lengthwise
dash of nutmeg
several dashes of cinnamon
pinch of brown sugar
salt & pepper
1/2 cup ricotta cheese
1 and 3/4 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons water
1) Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place butternut squash on a pan with a lip and drizzle with olive oil. Cook for 20 minutes, flip, then cook for another 20 minutes, or until tender.
2) Meanwhile, mix all pasta dough ingredients in a bowl. Knead for several minutes on a well-floured surface, adding more water as needed. The dough should be smooth and elastic. Wrap the dough ball with plastic and let sit for 30 minutes.
3) Once butternut squash is tender, scoop out the flesh and stir in nutmeg, cinnamon, brown sugar, salt and pepper. Let cool to room temperature (or place in the refrigerator), then add ricotta.
4) Once pasta dough has rested, cut ball in half. Cover one half with plastic and roll out the other half with a rolling pin or in a pasta machine. If you don’t have a pasta machine, I hope you have some amount of patience as you’ll be rolling out dough for awhile. I don’t have a pasta machine, so I just kept rolling out the dough until it was “thin enough.”
5) Cut flattened pasta dough into 2 by 2-inch squares. Place a teaspoon of filling in the center of the square, then fold pasta over to form a triangle. Seal the dough around the edges with your fingers. Have a bowl of water nearby to moisten your fingers as the dough dries out. Set uncooked ravioli aside. Repeat process with other dough ball.
6) Boil a pot of water while preparing the butter sage sauce. To make the sauce, melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat, then add sage. Add ravioli to pot of boiling water and cook for about 5 minutes, or until soft.
7) Drain ravioli and add to the skillet. Coat the ravioli with butter, place on a plate, then sprinkle with Parmesan cheese.
I can’t decide whether those pictures are appetizing or disturbing, but having already consumed this meal, I can honestly say that cooking this meal will have you salivating before you can say “gnocchi”–backward.
I bought truffle oil the other week in a moment of utter pretension combined with too much money in my bank account. You know, typical white middle-class problems. So, I jumped at the opportunity to drizzle truffle oil on something other than bread.
Side note: truffle oil is made from mushrooms, called truffles, and combined with olive oil; it is not made by slow pressing chocolate truffles until their luscious cocoa flavor gives way. Although that would also be delicious. (I just thought I’d clarify.)
I think the most obvious conclusion here is that the word truffle can only have a positive connotation. I’m thinking about naming my first born Truffle, actually. And she’ll be a really fantastic dancer known for her trademarked Truffle Shuffle. Just thinking out loud, here.
Anyway, this recipe is based on the one found here at Food & Wine online. I wasn’t about to buy vermouth after already investing in truffle oil, so I substituted three-buck Chuck. And I already had an onion, so I replaced the shallots, too. I’m still a student, after all. A student with truffle oil and thousands of dollars in student loans.
Gnocchi with Wild Mushrooms:
2 TB extra-virgin olive oil
2 TB butter
5 C. mushrooms
1 red onion
1/4 C. white wine
3/4 C. chicken stock
1/2 C. heavy cream
1 tsp thyme
Salt and freshly ground pepper
1 pound gnocchi
6 TB freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 tsp white truffle oil (optional)
1) Heat the olive oil with the butter in a pan. Add the mushrooms and onions and cook over high heat, stirring occasionally, until browned.
2) Add the white wine and cook until evaporated. Add the stock, cream and thyme, season with salt and pepper; bring to a boil.
3) Meanwhile, in a large pot of boiling salted water, cook the gnocchi until they float to the surface, about 3 minutes. Drain well.
4) Add the gnocchi to the mushrooms and simmer, stirring, for 1 minute. Stir in some of the Parmesan. Place gnocchi mixture in a pan and top with remaining Parmesan.
5) Broil the gnocchi 6 inches from the heat for 2 to 3 minutes, until golden and bubbling. Drizzle with truffle oil and serve.