My friend Francesca is golosa (a sweet-tooth). She loves and craves sweets and will gobble up a handful of cioccolatini or polish off a tray of pastries before she realizes how many she has eaten. But while she loves to eat dolci, she doesn't much like to bake them. That's why she makes tiramisu` whenever the need for a homemade dessert arises. No baking required and it is a simple and straight-forward dish to prepare, yet it seems like she spent half the day laboring on it. Give it a try!
Tiramisu` in Italian literally means "pick-me-up" (tirare='to pull or to pick up'; mi=obviously 'me'; and su`='up'), mainly because of the espresso used to soak the ladyfingers, though the booze doesn't hurt any, either! ;) You'll need to find a package of dry ladyfinger cookies, mascarpone cheese, and some fresh ricotta. It's best with espresso or Moka coffee, but you could also use very strong brewed coffee (but don't tell Francesca I said that!) You'll also need a glass serving dish or compote.
Francesca's Tiramisu`
4 eggs, separated
4 TBSP sugar
1 container mascarpone cheese
1 cup ricotta cheese
¼ cup rum or brandy (plus another dash for good measure!)
½ cup espresso or strongly brewed coffee
1 package ladyfingers (Savoiardi)
cocoa, dark chocolate
Combine the espresso and rum. Set aside.
Whip the egg whites until stiff. Set aside.
In a separate bowl, beat 2 of the egg yolks with the sugar. Stir in a dash of rum or brandy. Add the mascarpone and ricotta and blend well. Fold in the egg whites, stirring until it is just combined.
Using a pastry brush, brush both sides of the ladyfingers with the espresso/rum and line the serving dish with them. When the bottom and part of the sides are lined, add half the cheese mixture. Sift a little cocoa on top. Repeat with another layer of coffee-soaked ladyfingers, then the remaining cheese mixture. Sift a little cocoa on top. Use a vegetable peeler to grate the dark chocolate on top if desired.
Refrigerate at least 2 hours before serving.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Polpettine di Ricotta
In Basilicata sheep speckle almost hillside, tended by a shepherd who is accompanied by several wooly dogs. They provide a timeless, pastoral image - as well as lots of delicious pecorino cheese. "Pecorino" literally means little pecora, or sheep, and is used to denote cheese made from sheep's milk. There are many varieties depending on the producer and region.
At the agriturismo we recently occupied for a two weeks' stay, the owners make several types, including "normal" slightly aged cheese, long-aged hard cheese for grating, and a unique variety all their own, pecorino with walnuts (delicious!). They also produce excellent sheep's milk ricotta, which we enjoyed plain, stuffed into ravioli, and tucked inside a sweet breakfast cake.
One evening she made polpettine di ricotta (meatballs, but without meat) as part of their antipasto plate. They were fried in oil then topped with a rich, long-simmered tomato sauce. She said they are also traditionally served in a soup, demonstrating the local flair for maintaining the region's cucina povera (peasant's cooking) dishes. The ricotta balls, once fried, are placed on top of a thick slab of bruschetta, which is made from local, hearty semolina bread. Two or three ladlesful of broth (either chicken or vegetable stock) are poured over top. A sprinkling of freshly grated hard pecorino cheese and the soup is ready to serve.
Polpettine di Ricotta
1 1/2 cups fresh ricotta
1 egg
1/3 cup finely grated parmigiano cheese
1 TBSP flour
1 TBSP fresh, minced parsley
salt and pepper to taste
extra flour
olive oil/oil for frying
Put the ricotta in a bowl and break it up with a fork, fluffing it. All all the other ingredients and, using your hands, dig in and blend it all together well. Roll the dough into balls about the size of golf balls.
Lightly coat the balls in flour then fry in hot oil, placing them on paper towels to drain. Serve hot.
You can serve them as stated above - drizzled with sauce or in the soup. They are also good as is, with just a sprinkling of coarsely-ground pepper on top. They can also be drizzled with pesto, with truffle sauce, or creamy mushroom sauce.
At the agriturismo we recently occupied for a two weeks' stay, the owners make several types, including "normal" slightly aged cheese, long-aged hard cheese for grating, and a unique variety all their own, pecorino with walnuts (delicious!). They also produce excellent sheep's milk ricotta, which we enjoyed plain, stuffed into ravioli, and tucked inside a sweet breakfast cake.
One evening she made polpettine di ricotta (meatballs, but without meat) as part of their antipasto plate. They were fried in oil then topped with a rich, long-simmered tomato sauce. She said they are also traditionally served in a soup, demonstrating the local flair for maintaining the region's cucina povera (peasant's cooking) dishes. The ricotta balls, once fried, are placed on top of a thick slab of bruschetta, which is made from local, hearty semolina bread. Two or three ladlesful of broth (either chicken or vegetable stock) are poured over top. A sprinkling of freshly grated hard pecorino cheese and the soup is ready to serve.
Polpettine di Ricotta
1 1/2 cups fresh ricotta
1 egg
1/3 cup finely grated parmigiano cheese
1 TBSP flour
1 TBSP fresh, minced parsley
salt and pepper to taste
extra flour
olive oil/oil for frying
Put the ricotta in a bowl and break it up with a fork, fluffing it. All all the other ingredients and, using your hands, dig in and blend it all together well. Roll the dough into balls about the size of golf balls.
Lightly coat the balls in flour then fry in hot oil, placing them on paper towels to drain. Serve hot.
You can serve them as stated above - drizzled with sauce or in the soup. They are also good as is, with just a sprinkling of coarsely-ground pepper on top. They can also be drizzled with pesto, with truffle sauce, or creamy mushroom sauce.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
La Matriciana
What a shock to peruse my archives and realize that I hadn't already provided one of my most stand-by recipes of all time! Spaghetti all'Amatriciana hails from the town of Amatrice (oddly enough), which is located in the mountains of Lazio, skirting the Abruzzo border. Romans often try to claim it as their own, though they use bucatini instead of spaghetti, and frequently make it using onion and garlic, the addition of which the good Amatriciani say is akin to blasphemy. They should know; they've been making this plate for generations. The town isn't labeled "la citta` degli spaghetti" (spaghetti city) or nothing!
The original "matriciana" was made in bianco, without tomatoes. Shepherds used cured guanciale (a type of bacon made from the cheek) and the abundant pecorino cheese to flavor their pasta. Eventually, tomatoes got thrown into the pot, and a famous dish was born.
While you can use smoked pancetta if you can't find the guanciale, do not substitute parmigiano for the pecorino!
Spaghetti all'Amatriciana
serves 4
about 1/4 pound guanciale or pancetta, chopped
1/2 cup red wine
2 1/2 cups tomato puree
salt, pepper, red chile flakes
1/3 cup coarsely grated pecorino romano cheese
1 pound spaghetti
In a large skillet fry the guanciale or pancetta in a little olive oil until cooked and crispy. Remove half the meat to a paper towel to drain, set aside. Add the wine into the skillet and let it mostly evaporate, then add the tomatoes along with some salt and pepper and a dash of red chile flakes.
Cover and let simmer about 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, bring a pot of water to a boil and cook the spaghetti until they are al dente. Drain and add to the sauce in the skillet, tossing well. Sprinkle on the remaining crispy pieces of guanciale.
Serve with a healthy dusting of the pecorino on top.
The original "matriciana" was made in bianco, without tomatoes. Shepherds used cured guanciale (a type of bacon made from the cheek) and the abundant pecorino cheese to flavor their pasta. Eventually, tomatoes got thrown into the pot, and a famous dish was born.
While you can use smoked pancetta if you can't find the guanciale, do not substitute parmigiano for the pecorino!
Spaghetti all'Amatriciana
serves 4
about 1/4 pound guanciale or pancetta, chopped
1/2 cup red wine
2 1/2 cups tomato puree
salt, pepper, red chile flakes
1/3 cup coarsely grated pecorino romano cheese
1 pound spaghetti
In a large skillet fry the guanciale or pancetta in a little olive oil until cooked and crispy. Remove half the meat to a paper towel to drain, set aside. Add the wine into the skillet and let it mostly evaporate, then add the tomatoes along with some salt and pepper and a dash of red chile flakes.
Cover and let simmer about 20 minutes.
Meanwhile, bring a pot of water to a boil and cook the spaghetti until they are al dente. Drain and add to the sauce in the skillet, tossing well. Sprinkle on the remaining crispy pieces of guanciale.
Serve with a healthy dusting of the pecorino on top.
Thursday, March 05, 2009
Spaghetti alla Elia
We met Elia through my dear friend, Maria. She and her husband came for a visit and reconnected with her cousin, whom she had not seen in 40 years. It was touching and heart-warming to see them talking, laughing and gesticulating as if it had just been a few years instead of forty.
Elia (Italian form of Elijiah) is a fashion designer who is opening a boutique hotel in the hills of central Le Marche, with a focus on organic, eco-friendly construction. Each room is decorated differently and his eye for detail and beauty will surely make the place gorgeous.
Following our initial introduction and cameraderie with his cousin, he invited us up for lunch. We chatted as he whipped up this easy vegetarian plate of spaghetti. We watched as he set a metal bowl over the pasta cooking water to make the sauce while the pasta was cooking. Ingenious!
You will need:
-When the spaghetti has started to cook, toss the greens right in with the spaghetti to boil together.
-Cradle a large metal bowl or saucepan over top of the pasta pot.
-Add the pesto, half the pecorino, the cayenne, and a drizzle of olive oil. Stir while the heat from the water below melts the pesto and heats the sauce.
-Use a cup to extract some cooking water (about 1/3 cup) and add it to the sauce.
-When it is all hot and combined, remove the bowl.
-Drain the spaghetti and greens, put into the bowl, and toss it all together, topping with the remaining pecorino.
Serve and enjoy!
Elia (Italian form of Elijiah) is a fashion designer who is opening a boutique hotel in the hills of central Le Marche, with a focus on organic, eco-friendly construction. Each room is decorated differently and his eye for detail and beauty will surely make the place gorgeous.
Following our initial introduction and cameraderie with his cousin, he invited us up for lunch. We chatted as he whipped up this easy vegetarian plate of spaghetti. We watched as he set a metal bowl over the pasta cooking water to make the sauce while the pasta was cooking. Ingenious!
You will need:
- a package of spaghetti
- a bunch of chard or rapini
- about 1/4 cup of basil pesto (homemade or store-bought)
- 1/2 cup grated pecorino (If possible, resist the temptation to substitute Parmigiano. Trust me, it's better with the slight sharpness and distinctiveness this cheese gives the dish)
- a dash of ground red chile (cayenne) or chile flakes
- freshly grated black pepper, to taste
- a drizzle of olive oil
-When the spaghetti has started to cook, toss the greens right in with the spaghetti to boil together.
-Cradle a large metal bowl or saucepan over top of the pasta pot.
-Add the pesto, half the pecorino, the cayenne, and a drizzle of olive oil. Stir while the heat from the water below melts the pesto and heats the sauce.
-Use a cup to extract some cooking water (about 1/3 cup) and add it to the sauce.
-When it is all hot and combined, remove the bowl.
-Drain the spaghetti and greens, put into the bowl, and toss it all together, topping with the remaining pecorino.
Serve and enjoy!
Monday, February 02, 2009
Cavatelli ai Pistacchi
One of the cool things about coming "down south" for the winter is the chance to see the regional differences in cooking. You see, Italy is still very region-centric and proud (rightfully) of their own unique history, culture, and traditions...especially as relates to food and wine.
Here in southern Campania there is a heavier emphasis on citrus (closer to the groves) and the bread, we have discovered, gets better the farther south you go. As much as I like central Italian cuisine, their bread is really bland. Wine varietals differ, fresh fish is much more prevalent, and mozzarella di bufala is abundant (and cheaper!). Pasta shapes are different, too. Here you see more cavatelli and orecchiette, like in Puglia and Basilicata, and nuts coming from Sicily and Calabria are in big bins at the mercato.
Seeing some freshly roasted pistachios, I remembered this simple dish to use up some of them (yes, I over-bought, because they just tasted so darn good!)
Cavatelli ai Pistacchi
Here in southern Campania there is a heavier emphasis on citrus (closer to the groves) and the bread, we have discovered, gets better the farther south you go. As much as I like central Italian cuisine, their bread is really bland. Wine varietals differ, fresh fish is much more prevalent, and mozzarella di bufala is abundant (and cheaper!). Pasta shapes are different, too. Here you see more cavatelli and orecchiette, like in Puglia and Basilicata, and nuts coming from Sicily and Calabria are in big bins at the mercato.
Seeing some freshly roasted pistachios, I remembered this simple dish to use up some of them (yes, I over-bought, because they just tasted so darn good!)
Cavatelli ai Pistacchi
- 1 pound cavatelli (or other small pasta shape, but fresh pasta is best)
- 1 cup tomato-cream sauce (you can make this sauce, eliminating the gorgonzola and adding a little more cream, or use your normal, everyday marinara and add about 1/3 cup cream to it)
- dash paprika
- 1/2 cup coarsely grated Pecorino cheese (don't substitute Parmigiano, trust me, the cheese really helps make the dish!)
- 1/4 cup shelled pistachios, coarsely chopped
Cook the pasta in abundant boiling, salted water. Meanwhile, prepare or reheat the tomato cream sauce, adding the paprika and half of the Pecorino cheese. Stir until the cheese is dissolved.
Once the pasta is cooked, drain it and put in a large serving bowl, topping it with the sauce and stirring to thoroughly coat the pasta. Dust the top with the remainder of the Pecorino cheese, then sprinkle on the pistachios. Serves 4.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Zuppa di Farro e Fagioli
Farro and Cannellini Bean Soup
I first enjoyed a version of this dish in Umbria, where it was made with garbanzos instead of cannellini beans. The thick, rosemary scented soup warmed us on a cold night. The waiter brought a bottle of fresh-pressed olive oil to drizzle un filo (literally, a thread) on top. Wonderful! I've since seen various versions in other regions, including our area of Le Marche, and found that I prefer it with the delicate cannellini beans.
1 small onion, chopped
a clove or two of garlic, minced
one stalk celery, chopped
a carrot, minced
olive oil
a couple sprigs of fresh rosemary
a bay leaf
2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1/2 cup farro grain (or spelt)
3 cups water
2 cans cannellini beans
salt and pepper
peperoncino (chile powder or crushed chile) to taste
Saute the onion, garlic, celery and carrot in olive oil until soft. Toss in the herbs and add the broth. Bring to a boil and add the farro and water, then reduce heat to maintain a simmer, cover and cook until the grain is tender, about 40 minutes. Add more water if necessary to maintain a good consistency but you don't want it too thin.
Drain and rinse the beans. Put one can of beans in the blender, adding a few ladlefuls of the soup stock to blender it to a smooth paste. Add the paste along with the other can of whole beans to the pot. Add the seasonings, partially cover and simmer about 10 minutes longer. Turn off the heat and let the soup rest about five minutes before serving. Remove the rosemary and bay leaf. At the table drizzle a thin stream of olive oil over the soup and enjoy.
I first enjoyed a version of this dish in Umbria, where it was made with garbanzos instead of cannellini beans. The thick, rosemary scented soup warmed us on a cold night. The waiter brought a bottle of fresh-pressed olive oil to drizzle un filo (literally, a thread) on top. Wonderful! I've since seen various versions in other regions, including our area of Le Marche, and found that I prefer it with the delicate cannellini beans.
1 small onion, chopped
a clove or two of garlic, minced
one stalk celery, chopped
a carrot, minced
olive oil
a couple sprigs of fresh rosemary
a bay leaf
2 cups chicken or vegetable stock
1/2 cup farro grain (or spelt)
3 cups water
2 cans cannellini beans
salt and pepper
peperoncino (chile powder or crushed chile) to taste
Saute the onion, garlic, celery and carrot in olive oil until soft. Toss in the herbs and add the broth. Bring to a boil and add the farro and water, then reduce heat to maintain a simmer, cover and cook until the grain is tender, about 40 minutes. Add more water if necessary to maintain a good consistency but you don't want it too thin.
Drain and rinse the beans. Put one can of beans in the blender, adding a few ladlefuls of the soup stock to blender it to a smooth paste. Add the paste along with the other can of whole beans to the pot. Add the seasonings, partially cover and simmer about 10 minutes longer. Turn off the heat and let the soup rest about five minutes before serving. Remove the rosemary and bay leaf. At the table drizzle a thin stream of olive oil over the soup and enjoy.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Baked Olives
It's olive season over here. The trees are being stripped and the new oil is out. We went to the frantoio last week to watch the process and buy a healthy-sized jug. The gorgeous green color and fruity yet peppery flavor is unmatched. Is it any wonder I love autumn?
While many of the local olives are being pressed, a good portion are also being cured. Most of those are destined to become the local delicacy, Olive all'Ascolana. The local olive variety, the tenera ascolana, is a behometh in the olive category, perfect for stuffing with meat and deep-frying.
Despite my addiction to the fried critters, I still love a simple dish of baked olives, too. Warm and fragrant, they're irresistable and make a nice presentation when serving guests.
Baked Olives
Mixture of black and green olives, unpitted is best
a bit of lemon or orange peel, grated
a sprinkle of chile flakes
a grating of fresh-ground pepper
a sprig of thyme and/or rosemary (fresh)
2 TBSP red wine
about 2 TBSP olive oil
Combine everything and put in an oven-proof baking dish. Bake at 375 for about 20 minutes. Serve warm.
While many of the local olives are being pressed, a good portion are also being cured. Most of those are destined to become the local delicacy, Olive all'Ascolana. The local olive variety, the tenera ascolana, is a behometh in the olive category, perfect for stuffing with meat and deep-frying.
Despite my addiction to the fried critters, I still love a simple dish of baked olives, too. Warm and fragrant, they're irresistable and make a nice presentation when serving guests.
Baked Olives
Mixture of black and green olives, unpitted is best
a bit of lemon or orange peel, grated
a sprinkle of chile flakes
a grating of fresh-ground pepper
a sprig of thyme and/or rosemary (fresh)
2 TBSP red wine
about 2 TBSP olive oil
Combine everything and put in an oven-proof baking dish. Bake at 375 for about 20 minutes. Serve warm.
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