Tortellinifest

Since I can remember, my mom and her sisters have talked about great-grandma Noni's homemade tortellini. My grandparents would pack the kids in the car and drive from St. Louis to Carlinville, Illinois. My mom tells how she would sit on the countertop while Noni rolled out the pasta dough into paper-thin sheets, cut it into dainty squares, packed them with a pinch of meat and folded it upon itself, forming cute little pockets of stuffed pasta. She would make enough to last for a month of homey tortellini soup, a well-loved dish in my mom's family.

I think to my mom and her sisters (or really anyone who has bought a $1 bushel of spaghetti) making pasta seems as if it belongs to a different era. One of ladies who made an art of stay-at-home-wifehood. They probably stitched clothing for their families, worked out dainty needlepoint, made quilts, baked bread and, for the Italians, made their own stuffed pasta. I am absolutely in awe thinking of what they could do. I can barely feed a thread through a sewing machine.

We were sitting around the breakfast table the day after Thanksgiving, talking about grandmas Ella and Noni. Aunt Jean went on about how Noni would absolutely beat the dough into submission on the countertop. I think it was me who suggested we give pasta-making a try. Jean and Mom said we couldn't do it--rolling the dough would take forever. However, squeezing the dough through a borrowed pasta maker would be a cinch.

It's true, we almost gave up before we started. But pasta maker in hand and Jean on the phone with Aunt Marsha to get a recipe, we were in it with no reason to turn back.

We fiddled with the pasta roller until it bent to our will--or until we bent to it. And it produced, after seven turns through the crank, a sheet of dough so thin you could see through it.

Jean cut the first squares, placed the teeniest dollop of meat in the center, folded the square cross-wise to form a triangle, sealed the meat inside and pinched the acute corners of the triangle together to form the navel. And, elation. The impossible is possible!

We took turns pinching, rolling and stuffing, in between sips of wine.

We fed extra scraps to the dog, who turned out to the love the process just as much as the rest of us.

The typically submission dog stuck her snout up as close to the uncooked pasta as she could get it, even onto to the table.

Tortellini:
For Stuffing:
1 pound ground beef
1 pound Italian sausage
1 small onion
2 garlic cloves, minced
salt and pepper
2 tablespoons fresh parsley
1 egg
handful Italian bread crumbs

For Pasta:
6 eggs
6 cups semolina flour
1/2 teaspoon olive oil

Brown the meat with the onion, garlic, salt and pepper, and parsley. Drain off the fat. Mix together with one egg and enough bread crumbs to made the mixture a not-too-sticky mess. Let sit for an hour (we skipped that part).

Meanwhile, pour out the flour into a pile on a countertop. Form a well in the center and break the eggs and pour the olive oil into the well. Slowly and carefully stir the flour into the eggs and oil using a fork. Once the dough is smooth, knead the dough for five minutes, adding more flour if it gets sticky. Form into a ball, cover with a towel and let sit for 10 minutes.

Cut the ball of dough into 1/4-inch thick slices. Feed each slice through a pasta maker, according to its directions. Cut the flat dough using a pizza or pasta cutter into approximately three-inch by three-inch squares. Place a 1/2-teaspoon dollop of meat into the middle up the square. Dab your fingers in a bit of lukewarm water and run them across the edge of the square of pasta. Fold the pasta in half diagonally to form a triangle. Pinch the sides together, forming a seal around the meat. Dab some water on the acute angles of the triangle. Fold the acute corners under the chunk of meat. Repeat. Freeze immediately or serve. To complete cooking the pasta, boil the tortellinis in salted water until they float (takes about 2 minutes). Serve topped with lemon juice, olive oil and parmesan cheese or in a tortellini soup.

Lasagna Roll-ups

It seems I have been way too busy enjoying summer this week to cook or, you know, sleep. I'm tired but happy and waiting for the tomatoes to rippen. In the meantime, enjoy what looks to be my friend Maria's best effort to date--vegetarian lasagna.

There are so many things I love about Kroger (a grocery store you may or may not have in your town). The one I go to in Bloomington, Ind., was recently upgraded, so to speak. It's amazing. It's huge, they have great deals, it feels really clean and new. Their olive bar is amazing. Love it! Every month they send a coupon bookfull of recipes or household tips. This last one was perfect,"Budget-friendly vegetarian possibilities." One of the subheadings is"pack more protein into meatless meals." Seriously, just what I need. Within a week I made two meals from the book.

Growing up we ate lasagna fairly often at my dad's house. It was either pizza, lasagna, spaghetti, spaghetti pie or chicken friedrice. (Which one doesn't fit with the others?) I've only made lasagna once, despite my mom's insistence that it's a great meal to freeze and eat later. This recipe looked easy and the pictures were"cute." Yep, I pick my food based on a cuteness scale.

Vegetable Lasagna Roll-Ups: 6 whole wheat lasagna noodles, cooked al dente and drained 1 cup low-fat ricotta cheese 1/2 cup part-skim mozzarella cheese, shredded and divided in half 2 tablespoons freshly grated parmesan cheese 1 egg white, slightly beaten 1 tsp dried parsley 1/2 tsp dried basil freshly cracked pepper, to taste 1 1/2 tsp olive oil 2 cloves garlic, sliced 1/2 cup red pepper, diced 1/2 cup zucchini, diced 1/2 cup mushrooms, sliced 1 cup fresh spinach, chopped 1 1/2 cups tomato sauce Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Spray glass baking dish with cooking spray and lay the noodles across the bottom so they don't stick (use olive oil or cooking spray if necessary). In a medium bowl, combine ricotta, 1/4 cup mozzarella, parmesan, egg white, parsley, basil, and pepper.

Heat a skillet to medium-high heat. Add oil. Saute garlic for 1 minute. Add vegetables (I didn't have red pepper and I added onion)and saute for 3 minutes. Add spinach and saute just until spinach is wilted. Allow mixture to cool, drain well and combine with cheese mixture.

Spoon ricotta filling onto the noodles, leaving about 3 inches of space on each end of the noodle. Roll up the noodles and arrange in glass baking dish. Pour 1/4 cup tomato sauce over each roll-up. Cover and cook for 20 minutes. Remove the cover and top with remaining mozzarella cheese and bake an additional 5 to 10 minutes.

Notes: Do NOT ever, ever, ever buy fat free mozzarella cheese. Definitely an accident I will never repeat. It's disgusting. It doesn't even really melt. I love gooey, melty cheese and this certainly was not. In the before and after baking pictures, notice the cheese isn't melted on the top? Yeah, exactly.

Half-moon Cookies, aka Mezzalunas

Ahhhh, sigh of relief. I've just turned in a big story, one that I put a lot of pressure on myself to make good (lord, I hope no copyeditors read this blog or at least that sentence). I spent hours driving all over Omaha, interviewing people and pulling my hair out when the right words wouldn't come. And now I'm taking a break, for a moment, and writing the blog. Then it's back to work. Someday this week I'll finish that story that is already a week past deadline ... But right now, I want to think about rolling out dough on my kitchen counter and folding jelly-filled pastries into cute little pockets of sweetness. And don't forget, sprinkled with almonds. I'm relaxed already. Cue the Jose Gonzalez "Heartbeats."

I didn't break anything or injure myself in the process of making these pastries, which is saying a lot considering the past week. Though I did carelessly roll the dough too thin. I thought it wouldn't be a big deal, but the jelly melted in the oven and burned. The crust was still light and flaky, but the pastries with jelly still inside them were so much more delicious. This really was such a nice dessert to make, not too sweet. And rolling is so therapeutic. Time and again I come back to Italian recipes. They're always the best. Maybe it's my palate, but there's got to be a reason why we all love spaghetti.

To cut out the dough in circles, you're supposed to use a biscuit cutter. I don't own one of those, so I used the jar of jelly as a guide. Not to toot my own horn, but I am so good at improvising, not so great on the details. Someday I'll tell you the story of how I escaped from my stairwell later. This post is about mezzaluna cookies filled with strawberry jam.

Mezzaluna Cookies: adapted from Food and Wine

1 1/2 cup flour 2 tablespoons granulated sugar 12 tablespoons unsalted butter 2 1/2 tablespoons vanilla extract 1 egg white strawberry jam 1/2 cup blanched almonds, pulsed in food processor powdered sugar for dusting To blanch almonds, boil a cup or so of water on the stove. Drop in almonds for about 1 minute. Drain water and let almonds cool. The skins will sort of slip off if you squeeze the almonds. It's kind of fun, but be careful not to drop them on the floor.

Preheat oven to 350. For the dough, mix flour and sugar. Cut in butter and blend with a pastry blender. Add vanilla 1 tablespoon at a time. Food and Wine only recommended 1 tablespoon of vanilla. This was absolutley not enough for me, so I added more, kneading the dough until it all stuck together. Wrap dough in Saran and refrigerate for an hour. Cut off 1/4 of the dough and lie on flat, well-floured work surface. If you're nervous about the dough, follow the directions on this blog. Amazing. Roll until the dough is 1/8-inch thickness. Use biscuit cutter or large mug to cut out 4-inch circles from the dough. Repeat, recycling the dough until it's all cut out.

Arrange dough on baking sheet. Using a pastry brush (or barbecue brush, whatever), brush egg white on the circumfrance of the dough rounds. Spoon a teaspoon of jam onto the middle of the dough. Close and pinch shut with your fingers or with the edge of a fork. Arrange the pastries about two inches apart on the sheet. Once your finished spooning, brush the tops of the pastries with egg white, sprinkle with powdered sugar and almonds. Refrigerate the pastries for 10 minutes before baking. Bake until golden brown, about 40 minutes for 4-inch pastries.

I Am Now a Meatloaf Lover

I went to my parents' on Sunday to finish up my taxes (and play Dance Dance Revolution with my sister). "So what's for lunch?" Mom said, "Meatloaf." Imagine a full balloon's air being released while it flies around the room. There aren't many things I don't like to eat, but I hate meatloaf. "Mom, I would do anything for love, but I won't eat that." It's the consistency and the ketchup and the blandness, and yuck. According to Wikipedia, meatloaf is one of the most popular dishes in the country, and I think, "God, we have such bad taste." Well, I take it back. I take it all back. My mom, inspired by a segment on NPR (can't remember which), improvised a new take on the Depression-era dish. Apparently, it helps to think of meatloaf as one giant Italian meatball. So this was meaty and packed with flavor. No ketchup necessary.

The Best Meatloaf Ever: 1/2 medium onion, chopped 1 or 2 cloves garlic, chopped or minced 1 red pepper, chopped 1/2 pound ground hamburger 1/2 pound Italian sausage (Craig, here's the key to why you love my mom's spaghetti and why you'll love this meatloaf) 1 egg 1/2 cup Italian bread crumbs salt and pepper to taste 1 teaspoon oregano 1/4 cup tomato sauce with Italian seasoning (basil, parsley and oregano) Italian loaf parmasan cheese slices Saute the onion, garlic and red pepper.

Preheat the oven to 350. In a large mixing bowl, beat the egg and then throw in the sauteed vegetables, meat, bread crumbs, salt, pepper and oregano. With your hands mix it all up. Form a log (gross) with the meat, sort of like how you would with meatballs. Pour the sauce on top of the log and sprinkle with parmasan cheese. Bake for 1 hour.

My mom improvised this open-faced sandwich. So buy your Italian loaf and throw it in the oven with the meatloaf for a few minutes. Slice the bread hot-dog-style (long ways). Place meatloaf on bread and adorn with parmasan cheese slices. Consider yourself converted.

Amaretto Biscotti

Here we have maybe the best thing I've ever made. At least the best baked good I've ever made. I've even managed to convert Megan and Eric to biscotti-lovers. I know people are offput by how dangerously hard biscotti often is. I always liked it, but that's because I'm a dunker--cookies, doughtnuts, biscotti. This recipe, however, was perfect. Crunchy but not a tooth-breaker. The almonds added another layer of texture, and you could just barely detect a hint of the amaretto liqueur that I added. The recipe was taken from January's Gourmet. I only changed one thing--I replaced the brandy with amaretto because that's what I had and, hello, amaretto. When I worked at Crane Coffee, my favorite drink was an amaretto latte. Amaretto Biscotti: 1 cup sugar 1 stick unsalted butter, melted 3 tablespoons amaretto liqueur 2 teaspoons almond extract 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 cup toasted almonds, coarsely chopped (I used my food processor, see the above photo to see the size of the almonds pieces) 3 large eggs 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon baking powder 1/2 teaspooon salt To toast almonds, heat oven or toaster oven to 350 and bake for 10-15 minutes. Shuffle the almonds around once or twice. Let them cool for a minute or two before you chop them. Leave oven at 350.
In a large mixing bowl, stir together melted butter, sugar, liqueur and extracts. Stir in eggs and almonds. I mixed manually here. Biscotti more like bread than like cookies or cakes, so you don't really want to overwork the batter/dough with an electric mixer. It's OK if you're consistency is a bit lumpy. Stir in the flour, baking powder and salt.
Divide the dough in half and arrange into to 3"x15" loaves on an ungreased baking sheet. Bake in the oven at 350 for 30 minutes until golden. Remove and let cool. Slice loaves into 1-inch pieces and place back on baking sheet, cut side down. Bake for 20-25 minutes until biscotti are lightly toasted.

Jenny, My Food Partner in Crime

Jenny was always my food buddy. We will both eat pretty much anything and would often end up spliting meals, such as at the Grand Luxe in Chicago or at Il Spazio (affectionately referred to as The Spaz) in Kirksville, Mo. It was Jenny who also taught me not to scrape the tongs of my fork on my teeth when eating--now I hate when people do that too. We had a lot of memories in the kitchen of that freezing, old house on Jefferson--staying up late eating peanut butter and chocolate chips and talking about boys. Ahhh, the good ol' days. So it's only fitting that Jenny help bolster the content of this blog from afar. It's almost as good as a late-night laugh-fest. Almost. The top photo is of potato soup, modified from something on Allrecipes.com. Looks perty, don't it.

And here we have one of Jenny's trademarks: pesto pasta. She loves it. And actually, the recipe reminisces the best pasta dish ever that we shared at the aforementioned Grand Luxe Cafe.

Potato Soup: 3/4 cup chopped celery 1/4 cup chopped onion 1 15-ounce can chicken stock 5 peeled and cubed russet potatoes 2 teaspoons flour 1/2 package ranch dressing mix 1 cup half and half 1/2 cup sour cream sprinkle of bacon bits and cheddar cheese Cook down onions and celery until tender in a pot. Add chicken broth, about a 1/4 cup water and potatoes and boil until potatoes are tender. Reduce heat and mash about 1/3 of the potatoes in the pot (or food processor would probably work too). In a bowl, combine flour and ranch mix, then whisk in the half and half and sour cream. Add the mixture into the soup, stirring. Once combined, heat soup for another minute or so and remove from heat. Season with salt and pepper and parsley. Serve and sprinkle with bacon bits and cheese. Pesto Pasta: 1 regular-size package shell or bow tie pasta 1 15-ounce can artichoke hearts 1/2 cup fresh mushrooms (chopped) 1/2 cup tomato pesto dressing 1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese Cook pasta according to directions on box. Heat artichokes and mushrooms in a small pan until mushrooms are tender (use 1 tablespoon of butter as a saute). Drain pasta and add it to mushroom/artichokes and add dressing with heat on low. Top with feta and serve. I couldn't decide what photo to leave you with: cute or funny, funny or cute? I went with funny (I must have a thing with embarassing my friends). This photo is from last year's New Year's party. Good times. There were way too many cameras documenting that night.

Italian Chili

I'm not much of a planner when it comes to dinner. I have a hankering (good word, eh) for something and then I make it, with or without all the ingredients. Sometimes it works out spectacularly, sometimes not. I was without proper supplies twice last weekend, once when I attempted a baguette (baking is just not my thing right now) and once when I made this soup. With the baguette, we only had wheat flour, and the bread turned out really dense (I am telling you, it was the flour!). For the soup, I made an extra run to my new favorite grocer, Wohlner's, to get pancetta from their superb meat counter but didn't realize I only had one can of kidney beans and no parmasan cheese. Instead of improvising with cannellini beans (which I have done before), I ran to the (slightly ghetto) No Frills down the street. There is no substitute for parmasan cheese. This recipe is another reason I love love love Giada di Laurentiis. It is flipping amazing. Salty, savory. For the skeptics (dad), I call it Italian chili, because it is pretty hearty.

(I do hate this photo, please trust that it tastes much much better than it looks)

Pasta e fagioli alla Giada:

1 tablespoon olive oil 1/2 cup chopped onion 3 ounces pancetta (or bacon) 1 garlic clove, diced 5 4/3 cups chicken stock 2 15-ounce cans kidney beans, drained and rinsed 1 bay leaf 1 teaspoon dry thyme (or to taste) 1 teaspoon dry rosemary (or to taste) 3/4 cup elbow macaroni Heat olive oil in large skillet. Add the onion, pancetta and garlic and saute until the onion is tender (3 minutes). Add the broth, beans and herbs. Bring to a boil then simmer and cover until vegetables are tender (10 minutes). Puree 1 cup of the bean mixture in a food processor (this part is super important, I thought it was skippable, but it thickens the soup. Even my food processor can handle it). Return puree to mixture. Bring soup to a boil and add macaroni. With the lid on boil until macaroni is soft (8 minutes). Season with salt, pepper and parmasan cheese.

Noni's Tortellini Soup.

This recipe is a Leonatti family legend. Leonatti/Bernardi* women have been making it for at least four generations: Noni, Grams, my mom and my aunts and now me. And I'm sure Bernardis are still making this in Torino. My mom would make it when I was little and tell stories about going to visit Grandma Noni in Carlonville, Ill., when she was little. I imagine my mom sitting on a stool watching Noni roll the dough through a pasta machine, place a dollop of ricotta/chicken goodness on the paper-thin dough and pinch it into perfectly shaped pocket. I took a few shortcuts on this one, namely frozen tortellini. There is no way I'm going to attempt homemade pasta again until I get a pasta machine for Christmas (*hint*). Frozen pasta aside, this is my favorite soup of all time. Colors of the Italian flag (or Irish flag, whatever)

There is no written down recipe, or at least I don't own it (I'm being dramatic, I'm sure there is somewhere). This all meant that I called my mom no less than three times last night to make sure I was doing it right. Turns out my mom is actually making this soup for dinner tonight. Scary.

"Can I put garlic in it?" "What herbs do you use?" "How long do I need to simmer the vegetables?" She answered all these with patience, even though I called her four times while she was on the phone with my sister and likely fielding questions from my other sister. I tell you, parenting never stops.

Megs and I ate the soup at 9 p.m. (European style) after we got back to the gym. Below is Megan's addition to the meal: the greenest, healthiest salad ever. It had cilantro and dill in it! I know, you're drooling, it's OK.

Note: If you don't already know, I am an inprecise cook. I just made a pile of carrots, a pile of celery and a pile of onion and called it good. So add as much or as little of each as you want. Noni's Tortellini Soup: 6 cups chicken stock 1-3 celery stalks, chopped (with leaves, unless your celery leaves are brownish-pink like mine were, then you should throw them away) 1 cup carrots, chopped 1/2 cup onion, chopped 1 garlic clove, chopped (optional) 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 tablespoon corn starch mixed with a bit of cold water (for thickening, also optional) 8 ounces frozen (or fresh) tortellini 1 tablespoon dry tarragon (optional) Saute vegetables in olive oil until onion and garlic are translucent (apparently my mom doesn't perform this step, I just didn't want to wait 30 minutes for the vegetables to get soft, so I helped them along). Add chicken stock and bring to a boil. Simmer stock and vegetables for 30 minutes. Add frozen tortellini to stock, boil for 7-9 minutes. Add corn starch and tarragon. Stir and serve sprinkled with parmasan cheese. *If you're confused about the surnames, Leonatti is my mom's maiden name and Bernardi is her grandmother's maiden name. We've got this patriarchal tradition of losing the mother's name, so who knows where this recipe started.

Autumn Risotto

Here's another Italian dish from my repetoire. Risotto is one of my favorites, probably because of the abundance of parmasan cheese (ask any of my roommates--I'm obsessed with it). And I make a kick-ass risotto. However, this batch was one hitch kick shy of amazing. My theories on the less-than-stellar performance: 1) no meat, sausage or pancetta adds another element of savory, but I didn't have any, 2) I accidentally grabbed vegetable stock instead of chicken stock at the store, and 3) I totally spaced out on adding the sage, so the only seasoning was parmasan cheese, not necessarily a bad thing, just not all it could be. I also made a rookie mistake of confusing butterCUP squash for butterNUT squash. Who named these? (Butternut squash is yellow, buttercup squash like a small, green pumpkin).

Even so-so risotto couldn't ruin my Monday night. My Monday-night ritual involves coming home from work dragging myself outside for a jog (made significantly better by the addition of Coldplay's Viva La Vida to my music collection), after which I cook a something new and then sit down to watch Gossip Girl. It's beautiful.

Squash and Apple Risotto: (adapted from Food & Wine and Giada di Laurentiis)

4 cups chicken stock

3 tablespoons butter

2 ounces pancetta

1/4 cup diced onion

1/2 butternut (or buttercup) squash

1 1/2 cups arborio or short-grain white rice

1/2 cup dry white wine (I used marsala, which is not at all dry, it was alright since a lot of the other ingredients are a bit sweet)

1/2 cup chopped apples

1/2 cup grated parmasan cheese

1 teaspoon dried sage (you could experiment here with other fall-ish herbs/spices, thyme for example)

salt and pepper to taste

In a medium sauce pan, bring the stock to a boil, reduce heat to low while sauteing the vegetables and rice. In another sauce pan, melt the butter and saute the pancetta, onion and squash until the onion is translucent. Add the rice and stir to coat with the oils. Add the wine and simmer until almost evaporated. Ladle in 1/2 cup of chicken stock to the rice mixture and stir until stock is almost absorbed. Repeat with remaining stock. I added the apple about halfway through. The rice should be creamy and tender to the bite. Take off heat and add cheese, sage (or other herbs), and salt and pepper to taste. Serve.

Easy and Tasty Tomato Sauce.

Taking index of my blog postings, it's pretty clear I favor Italian cooking. It makes sense to me: Italian is pretty easy and pretty tasty. And (even though no one believes that Italians can be blond), I am 1/4 Italian. And in this day in this country, that's practically ethnic, right? Well this isn't a family recipe (or at least not yet). I got it from a really hee-larious blog The Amateur Gourmet that has become my new mid-day distraction. I had all the ingredients in my pantry (which never ever happens to me), and it really took about 15 minutes to make--so unlike my homemade ravioli recipe, is actually mom-friendly. I only deviated from his recipe when I used diced tomatoes instead of whole canned tomatoes--not sure that qualifies as "recipe development." But it is less messy. I have also come one step closer to acheiving my goal of making and mastering the grand sauces. As yet I've only attempted hollandaise (disaster), bechamel (eh) and tomato (conquered here).

(Lainey's Take on Adam's Take on Lydia's) 15-minute Tomato Sauce:

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 clove of garlic

1 teaspoon red pepper flakes (adjust to your liking)

2 tablespoons tomato paste

2 14-ounce cans diced tomatoes

1 teaspoon dried basil

salt and pepper to taste

1 pound dried pasta (rigatoni in my case)

Chop or mince garlic. Heat oil in pot. Add garlic to pot and saute until it is light brown. Add red pepper flakes and saute a bit more. Add tomato paste and toast until it turns orange. (Mine actually burned right away, so you should turn down the burner, but there was really no problem with the burned paste, so worries). Pour in diced tomatoes, basil, salt and pepper and bring to a boil. Simmer on low heat for 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Add pasta. When pasta is soft to the bite, drain and stir into sauce for another 5 minutes. Serve with plenty of parmasan cheese.

More Mushrooms.

We're already aware of my affinity towards mushrooms. (I still can't believe I refused to eat these things as a child). The fungi is to me one of the quintessential fall ingredients. It's so hearty and earthy. This meal is certainly that. The recipe is from Food and Wine, the source of much inspiration for fall for me (more to come next week). Though I must boast that I one-upped the gourmet cooking magazine by substituting the called-for gnocchi with some homemade ravioli still in my freezer. Take that Food and Wine!! I know I've already talked about it, but HyVee only had two kinds of fresh mushrooms (portobello and cremini). They didn't even have shiitake when I went yesterday. So I had to buy dried oyster mushrooms and reconstitute them, which was fine because then I used the water to boil my ravioli in and my kitchen smelled like dirt all evening. At first, I wasn't really crazy about this dish. (I probably should have used real cream instead of buttermilk, as it did go a bit chunky). But at the end, I was literally spooning the sauce from the skillet into my mouth. Megan came home and I couldn't lick the plate. Ravioli with Wild (sort of) Mushrooms: (serves 6) 2 tablespoons olive oil 2 tablespoons butter 2 pounds mixed mushrooms, coarsely chopped 1/2 cup onion, chopped 1/4 cup marsala cooking wine 3/4 cup chicken stock 1/2 cup cream 1 teaspoon thyme salt and pepper to taste 2 pounds stuffed pasta 6 tablespoons parmasan cheese Heat olive oil with butter in skillet. Add mushrooms and onions, cook until mushrooms are browned. Add marsala and cook until evaporated. Add the stock, cream and thyme, season with salt and pepper and bring to a boil Meanwhile boil a pot of salted water and cook pasta until the ravioli floats to the surface. Drain. Add the pasta to the mushrooms and simmer, stirring for one minute. Stir in parmasan cheese.

Homemade Pasta.

Channeling grandma noni, I embarked on making my own stuffed pasta. I have done this recipe once before, so I knew it was possible and tasty. It's a Giada di Laurentiis dish--seriously, everything made by that woman is amazing. I want to be her and her cute wardrobe, plunging neckline, big hair/head, delicious food and staff of assistants. I imagine she has fantastic dinner parties five nights a week with 20 of her closest friends constantly reminding her how fabulous she is. I own two of her cookbooks, and everything I have made from them is exceptional. The dough recipe is too easy. Really, too easy. It's only flour and hot water. I knew from the first time I made this I would want the dough to be as thin as it could be without ripping. But let me tell you, rolling dough is a workout. And I think because this dough was so easy, it really tougher the more I worked with it. I think I was rolling the dough for half an hour, and I just kept getting hungier and more tired, so I added more stuffing to finish it off. It was nearing seven o'clock when I finally threw some ravioli in a pot of boiling water, and I kept thinking, "Gossip Girl is starting in seven minutes, Gossip Girl is starting in seven minutes. I wonder if Nate will be on this episode? Maybe Chuck and Blair will finally make up, and Serena will stop being a bitch." I finished just in time to leave an enormous mess in the kitchen and to realize that GG was a rerun this week. And it took me about 10 minutes to finish eating my pasta. I do have a lot leftover now sitting in my freezer, and I know it will only take 10 minutes to boil water to have another good meal. But it all seemed a bit anticlimactic. This is not a mom-friendly meal. I do not know how grandma noni did this--kids were probably better behaved back in the good ol' days, right? But I must admit, I would make a great stay-at-homer. *sigh* If only I were a wife *sigh* I felt like a real adult last night, making dinner, doing laundry, cleaning dishes and taking out the trash, aside from the whole working and paying bills part of adulthood. (Cooking is way more fun.) (I'm going to send you all to the Food Network site for the recipe, since I've already digress here enough).

You Say Frittata.

Instead of letting my leftovers waste away to mold in the fridge like I normally do, I rehashed them in a frittata. This was according to Craig's recommendation. Dare I say that it was better than the original version as the original batch of green curry was so freaking spicy. Adding eggs and milk tempered the heat to edible.

I have this theory about eggs and omelets: Every European country seems to have their own delicious version. Everybody like eggs. In France its quiche. In Spain its tortilla espanola. In Britain it must be the omelet. And in Italy its the frittata. (OK, I haven't covered all of Europe, just the countries I have been to). I'd have to say that the frittata is the easiest because there is no flipping involved (reducing the chance that I'll be making a mess). You just mix the eggs and a bit of milk with whatever other food you'd like to add (obviously anything goes since I felt so inclined to make it with green curry), cook it on the stovetop until the bottom is done and then transfer it to the broiler to finish it off. And voila. Finito.

Bruschetta.

My mom always says the best part about summer is ripe rep tomatoes. And if you're anyone but me, your tomato plants are going crazy right about now. I currently have four cherry tomatoes, all of which have been enjoyed by a bug. I even put a hedge apple in the planter, and I swear it's half eaten. But the best part about summer tomatoes is bruschetta. Translated: Italian salsa. Here's our family recipe, which may or may not have originated in the kitchen of Betty Crocker (but you know she stole it from some noni).

5-6 tomatoes (roma, heirloom, whatever) 1/2 cup fresh basil

2 teaspoons dried oregano

2 cloves garlic

2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar

2 tablespoons olive oil

lemon juice from 1/2 a lemon

Chop. (Everything that's chopable). My mom puts the ingredients in a food processor to speed things up, but I prefer mine chunky.

OK, one of the things that sets this recipe apart is the crusty bread. This one courtesy of THE Martha Stewart.

1 baguette (French, Italian, whatever)

olive oil

coarse Kosher salt

pepper

Slice the bread into one-inch pieces. Lay on baking sheet. Sprinkle pieces with olive oil, salt and pepper and toast.

Enjoy.