Food Porn

It has been blazes hot lately. Fortunately, by the time you all are reading this, I'll be wearing a fleece in Juneau, Alaska. It's days followed by days followed by days like these that make me appreciative of pools and air conditioning. We didn't have the ac on in the apartment until I caved last Tuesday. I was making dinner with some friends right before Simon left to go home to Innsbruck, Austria. It had to be hotter than 100 degrees in my apartment with the stovetop fired up. Dan popped the window open as wide as it could go, I grabbed another fan and the three boys took their shirts off. Let me repeat that last part: The boys took their shirts off to reveal their sweating not-at-all-unattractive bodies. That's enough to raise the temperature a few degrees itself.

I recreated a pasta dish that my friend Amy had made for a potluck, teaching Justin some basics of cooking (like using whole, fresh garlic and salting pasta water). My pasta didn't turn out as good as Amy's, but the watermelon-tomato salad was just as good as it was last year. I have some more pictures from the evening, but it feels like I'm exploiting my friends' bodies to get attention to my blog, so I'll just post one picture. The sun was going down and we hadn't yet turned on any lights (but had flicked on the air). All I could see were dark silhouettes of glistening bodies in the glare of the sun.

Pasta with Garlic Lemon Sauce: from Cooks.com

1 pound penne, linguini or larger pasta (spaghetti was not the best choice)

2 cloves garlic

2 zucchinis or yellow squashes, diced

zest of a lemon

4 tablespoons butter

1 cup heavy cream

salt and pepper

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1 cup parmesan cheese

juice from a lemon

Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Cook pasta according to instructions. Drain.

Melt the butter in a pan on medium heat. Saute the garlic, squash and lemon zest until vegetables are softened. Add the cream, salt and pepper, and nutmeg. Reduce heat and saute until cooked through--3 to 5 minutes. Throw in the noodles and toss to coat with sauce. Add parmesan and lemon juice, stir to combine and serve.

Chard Not Charred

My Monday night routine is back (minus Gossip Girl, which has been moved to Wednesday nights), and it feels so good. After what seems like ages, it's nice enough to run outside. I didn't even need a hat or gloves. Once tired (which took no time at all), I came home and started chopping, boiling and sizzling in the kitchen. Feeling so bold and a bit desperate, I cooked some horrible, out-of-season tomatoes into edibility with garlic, salt, pepper and olive oil, and sauteed some greens.

 

Previous bad experiences (i.e. canned spinach that made me gag--an infamous story among my family), kept me away from cooked greens of any sort for far too long. Spinach, kale, Swiss chard, bok choy; they're all glorious. They lend themselves so well to butter and garlic. They're crunchy, yet the wilted ends are so creamy (but not mushy).

 

After however many years it's been of me cooking for myself, I think I've got the one-plate meal down. Pasta, check. Soup, check. Stew, got it. I've been ready to take on meat and poultry for some time now but keep putting it off. Meat is more expensive; it takes longer to cook (usually); I don't eat that much; I cook for myself most of the time and it feels a little sad to be making a big ordeal of dinner when it's just me. I think that last one is probably the clincher. How pathetic to be sitting watching "Friends" at home alone instead of eating with them.

 

Get over it, Lainey. My new goal is to make a real meal, one with sides of potatoes and vegetables, once a week. Starting ... next wek. In the meantime, here's another one-plater.

 

Macaroni with tomatoes, chard and goat cheese: serves 2

2 cups macaroni

1 cup diced tomatoes

1 pound Swiss chard, stems discarded and coarsely chopped

1 clove garlic

1/2 cup chicken stock

1/4 cup dry white wine

salt and pepper to taste

goat cheese to garnish

 

Bring a medium pot of salted water to a boil. Cook macaroni or other small-to-medium-size pasta until soft but firm to the bite. Drain and set aside.

 

In a saute pan, heat a couple tablespoons of olive oil on medium. Add the tomatoes, season with salt and pepper and saute for several minutes. Add the garlic, continue sauteing until the garlic has turned a golden brown (1 or 2 minutes, tops). Add the chicken stock and wine. Bring the liquid to a boil, reduce the heat and allow some of the liquid to boil off so the volume is cut in half by the end of it. After it has reduced (5-7 minutes), add the chopped chard. Stir while it cooks. Add the pasta to the saute pan once the chard has cooked through and turned a brilliant green color (about 4 minutes). Stir to combine. Season with salt and pepper. Serve. Add a couple dollops of goat cheese to each bowl of pasta. Stir to incorporate.

Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth

I know complaining about the weather is the cliche thing to do, but who's not getting their ass kicked by winter right about now? It snowed another inch yesterday, and at this point (after I got in a weather-related car accident and have shoveled probably half a ton of snow from my driveway), an inch is just a blip in this never-ending winter. My friend Lindsey and I were going over albums that belong to winter. There's the obvious Bon Iver (which means "good winter") For Emma Forever Ago. Then we both agreed Radiohead In Rainbows was a nice winter album. Stars Up in Your Bedroom After the War, holy crap the title song is leaf-less trees, brown grass and slushy dirt roads somehow made lovely. St. Vincent's self-titled I would put in winter. I think White Stripes Icky Thump, MGMT Oracular Spectacular and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs It's Blitz would make a good soundtrack to long and dark winter nights.

The only thing I can to fight off the winter blues is to make pasta (I'm only kidding myself with the green broccolini in this dish), drink red wine and wear my house slippers outside the house. I cooked the broccolini according to Julia Child's blanching instructions--she was right, they turned out crunchy and extra green. And woah this pasta is garlicky--no complaints here.

This morning, all this thought of snow and car accidents and earthquakes reminded me of Neko Case's version of Never Turn Your Back on Mother Earth.

Do you have any winter songs?

Pasta with broccoli rabe and goat cheese: from Saveur

1 bunch broccoli rabe aka rapini (or regular broccoli or broccolini)
1 tablespoon olive oil
4 cloves garlic
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
12 ounces orchiette or whatever medium-size pasta shape you can find
salt and pepper
goat cheese

Bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Coarsely chop the broccolini and then toss it in the boiling water for four minutes. Remove with a slotted spoon, saving the water. Immediately, run cold water over the broccolini to stop it from cooking.

Heat the oil in a skillet. Add the garlic and saute for a few minutes until golden brown, toss in the chili flakes and saute for another minute. Toss in the broccolini, stirring to coat and then immediately remove the skillet from the heat.

Meanwhile, bring your pot of water back to a boil and cook your pasta until it's al dente. Drain the water and toss the pasta in with the broccolini and garlic, stirring to combine. Serve topped with a dollop of mild and creamy goat cheese and seasoned with salt and pepper.

Creature Comfort

Right now I'm enjoying day 2 of being snowed in. How often does it happen in adulthood that snow shuts down one-and-a-half days of work? (That should give you a hint as to how bad the snow is here in Omaha.)

My boss woke me up this morning at 7:45 a.m. I thought it was my alarm and hung up on him. He forgave me and told me not to brave the cold or the unplowed streets. I was jumping around like a kid while Meg took a shower and got ready to dig out her car. We made a solid effort at getting her out, but her wheels spun and spun. Hours later, the neighborhood still isn't plowed, and neither is most of our driveway. So methinks I shall stay bundled up under a fleece blanket, writing more, reading more, and perhaps watching Little Women.

This pasta would be the perfect lunch if only I had any bacon left: It's homey, salty, crunchy. Everything you need when the windchill is -18 and the snow in the driveway passes the one-foot mark.

Macaroni with bacon, parm and butter: from Orangette

Boil some salted water to make the pasta (cook until pasta is tender but crisp to the bite). Cook your bacon. Drain your pasta. Melt a small knob of butter with the macaroni and season with salt and pepper. Crumble the bacon on top and sprinkle with parmesan cheese. Serve.

One Gnocchi at a Time

When I was younger, I wanted to change the world, revolution-style. I lived for the play Les Miserables (had the entire three-disc soundtrack and have seen it live--twice); I defied gravity (or wished I could) like Elpheba from Wicked; I wanted to embody the spirit of the cast from Rent; the only books I ever read were about poor people by critics of society (we're talking Dickens and Dostoyesvky here); I had a huge dissillusionment with the American dream phase and read all Fitzergerarld, Hemingway and Steinbeck. When I thought about my future, I wanted to change things so people weren't poor or hungry or terrorized, and I wanted to do it in a big way. I thought by being a foreign aid worker I could end social injustice, or by teaching English I could give someone a new opportunity. Listening to Underdog by Spoon, I think "Yeah! You've got no fear for the underdog/that's why you will not survive!" But then I wonder if I've become the person smoking a pipe in my living room with my slippers set out for me.

I'm not making any changes. I have a desk job, which I love, but I write about luxury travel and restaurants. I volunteer with pretty privileged high school students. I am no where near rich, but I do own a car and rent a really nice apartment with a great roommate, and I have great friends and family and somehow have found contentedness even though, or perhaps because, I go to bed before 11 on weeknights, watch episodes of Friends on DVD and make handmade gnocchi on long Sunday afternoons. That contentedness, I want to cling to it.

So it seems the only life I can change is my own.

I'm just a little person, who can barely barely barely do (or say) the right thing--ever. I don't even have the energy to teach 200 Thai kids how to say "Hello, my name is Cheerawat. What is your name?" in English. I have no vision for the big picture that God is painting because I'm in the picture, dancing around on the canvas doing my own thing. But I have a gut feeling that is what I'm supposed to do. I'm not better than the picture, no matter how much I want it.

I think, I think what God wants me to do is love. Love him, love my friends, love my family and even love people who break into my apartment. It's so little yet so big. So excuse the metaphor, but love is one tiny, bee-shaped gnocchi, made over and over again.

Sweet Potato Gnocchi: from Gourmet

2 medium baking potatoes
1 big sweet potato (there should be twice as much baking potatoes)
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
salt and pepper
1/3 cup ricotta cheese
1 cup flour, plus more for dusting
1/4 cup parmesan cheese
1/4 cup olive oil
handful sage leaves
handful sliced almonds (original recipe calls for chestnuts)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter

Preheat oven to 450. Pierce potatoes with a fork and bake for 45 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool slightly. Peel and let cool completely. Smash together with a fork on the baking sheet until consistency is pretty smooth. Pile up and form a well in the middle of potatoes.

In a small bowl, whisk together egg, nutmeg, and some salt and pepper. Pour part of the egg mixture into the well of the potato pile. Knead a couple times. Add half of the flour and continue to knead. Add some parmesan cheese, knead. Add the rest of the egg mixture and enough flour (knead here too) to make the dough cling together but still slightly sticky. Rip off a portion of the dough and turn it out on a heavily floured surface. Roll into a snake (just like PlayDough) that is about 1/2-inch thick. Cut snake into 1/2-inch pieces (they look like pillows). Place pillows on a baking sheet while you roll out and cut the rest of the dough in the same manner. When finished cutting the gnocchi, roll each pillow into a ball. Then using a fork run the balls of dough over the tines with your thumb and pinch at the back. (Follow the pictures below for visual instructions.) The rivets and oblong shape allow the gnocchi cook quickly, with the inside cooking without the outside over-cooking. Set aside.

In a medium skillet, heat the oil until it is shimmering. Drop the sage leaves into the oil and fry for about 30 seconds. Remove with a slotted spoon. Drop the almonds into the oil and fry for another 30 seconds and remove with a slotted spoon. (The original recipe calls for chestnuts, which I'm sure are devine, but I knew they would be impossible to find--almonds worked really well.) Reduce heat to low. Leaving the oil in the skillet, melt the butter until it is lightly browned.

Meanwhile, bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Drop in half of the gnocchi and boil until they float (takes about 3 mintes). Remove gnocchi with a slotted spoon and place in the melted butter-oil. Simmer for a couple minutes, stirring to coat. Cook the remainder of the gnocchi and place in the melted butter. Serve topped with sage leaves, almonds and parmesan cheese.

Spicy Tomato Pasta

Don't you just want to scarf down this bowl of all things delicious in the world (i.e. tomatoes and garlic)?! My mom and I look forward to the couple months out of the year during which tomatoes are not only edible but completely glorious. I know some people abhor tomatoes (ahem, dad, Zach), but I am convinced it's because they've only ever eaten bad tomatoes. Same goes for fish, mushrooms, and everything else except prime rib. Who has ever heard of a good prime rib?

Back in Atlanta, Craig and I were brainstorming about how we could impress his friends with a stunning meal. Had to be summery. Had to be awesome. And this was no time to bust out an improvised dinner of scorched squid salad with wheatberries for the first time on unsuspecting neighbors--though, come to think of it, that would have been fun.

My mom discovered this recipe in Martha Stewart Living several years ago (while I was living in Kirksville) and called me directly to share it. Mom made it every day for a week straight. And I followed suit. All elements in this meal bring out the flavor of the tomato: the chili-infused oil and the garlic add spiciness, the basil and oregano give it whatever herbs give so I'll use a generic term like "aroma," and the parmesan adds salt and creaminess and the overall awesomeness that is parmesan cheese.

We also made the watermelon-tomato-bacon salad--I've made it three times in less than a month and my mom is still convinced it's weird (my plan is to convert her with a surprise attack on Labor Day).

To amp up the meat we had the bacon for the salad and salami with baguettes and soft goat cheese. We made the Winning Hearts and Minds Cake for dessert and Biz and Boone brought homemade peanut butter ice cream (woah!). We spent the remainder of the night playing Apples to Apples until I was practically falling asleep on the floor and until Craig won.

Pasta with Tomato Sauce: from Marth Stewart Living 1 cup olive oil 2 1/2 teaspoons red pepper flakes 6 medium tomatoes, diced 4 garlic cloves, chopped 1 tablespoon dried oregano 1 tablespoon dried basil or 1 cup fresh basil kosher salt pepper 1 pound spaghetti or fusilli pasta parmesan cheese for serving At least two hours before serving, make pepper-infused oil. In a small bowl or glass, combine red pepper flakes and 1/2 cup olive oil and let stand at room temperature for at least two hours and up to two days.

In a large bowl, combine diced tomatoes, garlic, oregano, basil, salt, pepper and plain olive oil. Toss to coat. Let stand at room temperature for 1 to 8 hours.

Fifteen minutes before serving, bring a pot of salted water to boil. Cook pasta according to directions. Drain and toss with tomato sauce. Serve with parmesan cheese and drizzle with chili-infused oil.

Pesto Pasta

Tomatoes are finally edible--though not any from my garden. But what is doing well in my garden are the herbs. The caterpillars have been focusing their energy on the viney plants and have largely ignored the fragrant basil, parsely, oregano and rosemary. Sitting out on my back porch eating this plate of pasta, I realized that I just might be one of those "granola" people (aside from the cannabis smoking). I spotted a caterpillar resting on one of my flowering plants (the name of which I can't recall) and I let it live, thinking that it will go into its cocoon pretty soon anyway and would then entertain me as a butterfly (or more likely annoy me as a moth but whatever). My basil plant, up until last night, was covered in leaves all of them tantalizing me with their aroma. Yes, it was time for some pesto--pesto being the sole purpose for growing basil in the first place. Pesto incorporates all things I love (or at least quite a few of them) including basil, garlic, pine nuts (which I could eat by the handful) and parmesan cheese. So simple. Pesto and tomatoes scream summer to me. It's got all the flavor and all the color.

Basic Pesto: 2 cups fresh basil leaves, packed 1/3 cup pine nuts 1 clove garlic 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon pepper 1/2 cup parmesan cheese In a food processor, pulse basil, pine nuts and garlic. Add salt and pepper and pulse again. While blending, slowly add olive oil until the mixture is creamy and smooth. Remove from processor and put in a bowl. Add parmesan cheese and stir to mix. You may need to add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve with capellini pasta and freshly diced Roma tomatoes. (Pesto is also great on turkey sandwiches.)

Penne with Swiss Chard and Pine Nuts

When I was little, probably around 5 or 6, my dad had to make dinner for my sister and I. I'm certain it wasn't his idea to make cooked spinach, but it happened all the same. And it is the one and only meal that made me sick. I more-or-less stayed away from wilted greens for the next 20 years. But slowly, slowly I've been coming around, starting with this dish, which was great. But after this pasta, I'm a full-blown advocate of Swiss chard. I'm a visual eater. In yoga when I should be focusing on breathing, I go Zen by imagining runny eggs and coffee in the morning. So all it took was a photo of this pasta on the blog Cucina Nicolina, and I was sold. It's been a sweltering and suffocating 95 degrees with a heat index of (today) up to 115--that's hotter than Thailand people, so I know no one wants to eat anything warm. But this was light and summery with a delicious buttery crunch from the pine nuts. It was all I could do to not lick the bowl after eating this pasta. I (of course) made a couple tweets, I mean tweaks. And I must congratulate myself for a) using up semi-unusual and perishable food from my fridge and b) even having said semi-unusual and perishable food that isn't well into the process of growing something very unusual. It must be a sign of maturation as a cook. Though now I'm the proud owner of a ridiculous amount of leftover (and delicious) pasta. Doesn't anyone have a tip as to how to judge how much pasta to make for one or two people? Penne with Swiss Chard and Pine Nuts: 1/2 cup pine nuts 1 tablespoon olive oil 1/2 onion, diced 1 clove garlic, finely chopped 3 stalks of rainbow chard, with the leaves coarsely chopped and the stalks discarded 1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes 1/4 cup ricotta cheese (Cucina Nicolina used 1 cup of feta cheese) 1 tablespoon cream salt and pepper 1 teaspoon dried oregano parmesan cheese 4 ounces of dried pasta (this serves about 4 people) Fill a medium sauce pan with water and sprinkle with salt (about 2 teaspoons) and bring to a boil on the stovetop. Cook penne until al dente, about 8 minutes. Drain pasta and transfer to serving bowl. Meanwhile, in a frying pan, toast pine nuts on medium-high heat on the stovetop until light brown in color. Remove and place in a small bowl. Using the same frying pan, heat oil on the skillet, add onion and saute for a minute and then add the garlic, being careful not to burn the garlic. Once onion is softened, add Swiss chard and a couple spoonfuls of the pasta water to the frying pan. Bring water to a boil and simmer, while stirring, until the chard has wilted. Add the tomatoes, bring to a simmer and reduce--takes about 5 minutes. Stir in ricotta until it has melted, drop in cream, while stirring until sauce has thickened. Season with salt, pepper and oregano. Transfer thickened sauce to the serving dish already filled with the pasta. Toss to coat pasta. Throw in the toasted pine nuts and top with parmesan cheese. Serves 4.

Pasta al Tomate

Last week, Emily and I went to the airport to collect our sister, returned from an epic voyage to Italy. She offered to make the entire family dinner last Friday, a decision I'm sure she regrets. I'm not so sure she missed us. My part of the story started when Al called to invite me to dinner. "Well, I have a party to go to, what time is it going to be over?" (This is the sort of thing you can only say to your family.) But I came and sat on the couch and complained that dinner wouldn't be over according to my schedule. Dad and I sat in the living room, joking and sincerely wondering where the chef du jour was. It was 5:30 p.m., and she was at the grocery store--this is America, Al. We eat by 6! But the pasta got rolling, mom was on-hand to lend assistance and I finally dragged myself off the couch to chop some tomatoes--for which I was lucky not to maim my hand while Al pushed around the cutting board in a frantic dash to find the corkscrew. But taking nibbles of the food and sips from the wine sobered everyone's tempers. Al was the chef de cuisine, mom was sous chef and I was the lowly garde manger (pantry supervisor).

But we did the work to prepare the bruschetta, salad and pasta (no meat to be seen--and on my dad's birthday). Al even grabbed a bottle of wine from the town in which she lived in Italy (Orvieto). The recipes are from a restaurant in Orvieto called Zeppelin where Al took a cooking class. So our meal was just as good as being there--obnoxious family included. Bruschetta: 1 loaf of HyVee take and bake bread (this stuff is awesome and so easy) 2 ounces pancetta Asiago cheese, thinly sliced coarsely chopped fresh basil olive oil balsamic vinegar dried parsely This seems too easy to explain, but here goes: Slice baked bread into one-inch-thick pieces to serve topped with the cheese, pancetta and basil and also dipped in a bowl of a olive oil-vinegar-parsely mixture.

Pasta with Tomatoes and Chilis: olive oil 3 cloves garlic, diced 1 cup dry white wine 2 pounds Roma tomatoes, diced 1 chili pepper, diced (remove seeds according to desired spiciness) large handful of fresh basil, coarsely chopped big handful spaghetti salt and pepper to taste parmesan cheese In a large sauce pan on medium, heat oil and saute garlic for a couple minutes. Add wine, tomatoes and chili pepper and continue to saute for 5 to 10 minutes. Add salt and pepper. Al bought an Anaheim pepper, which is less spicy than a jalapeno. You can always adjust the spiciness by adding or removing the ribs and seeds from the pepper. As far as judging a pepper's spiciness, generally smaller peppers are spicier. Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Cook spaghetti according to directions. Al picked up some spaghetti with ribs in it, which I really liked. Drain pasta and carefully dump into sauce pan with tomatoes. To serve top with basil and parmasan cheese.

And She Made Pasta Again

I had all these plans. I was going to make this chickpea salad sandwich for dinner. But there were no chickpeas. Then I was going to improvise with cannellini beans. But there were no red-roasted tomatoes. Do you ever have those days where you're hungry for dinner before lunch? I was ready to snarf down a five-course meal by the time I left work and made my way to my hour-and-fifteen-minute yoga class, which put dinnertime at well past 7 p.m. That's, like, completely unaccectable for me and scads of retirees the world round. So all through yoga when I went to my "Zen place," there were amaretto biscottis, vegetarian lasagnas, homemade ravoilis and hummus dip with salty, salty pita chips looming on a buffet before me. At home I knew there was some already-cooked pork sausage in the freezer, that jar of artichoke hearts, and there are always cans of tomatoes (except today, because I've eaten them all). I came up with this variation on the Easy and Tasty Tomato Sauce. I'll call it Vegetable Vodka Cream Sauce. I'm go ahead and laud myself for using up some of the cream from the yesterday's Indian dish that would otherwise be going bad. And while I'm at it, for using up last summer's leftover vodka that has been collecting dust in the cupboards. Oh, and some questionable tomato paste that had been sitting opened in the fridge. Perhaps the best part about pasta is its ability to rend all leftover items useful. It turned out ridiculous salty, which I would say is a good thing. I think this sauce could only be improved upon with more veggies, particularly of the squash variety (i.e. zucchini, yellow squash and eggplant). Oh I can't wait for it to really be spring. Now I'm going to go make my grocery list. Vegetable Vodka Cream Sauce: 1/2 pound ground pork sausage 2 tablespoons of olive oil 1 garlic clove, minced or chopped dash of red pepper flakes 1 tablespoon tomato paste 1 15-ounce can diced tomatoes 2 ounces vodka 1/4 cup cream 1/2 cup (or so) artichoke hearts, coarsely chopped salt to taste 1 cup small pasta (penne, macaroni, shells) 1 tablespoon-ish dry basil 1 tablespoon-ish dry parsley parmasan cheese Brown the pork sausage. Remove from skillet and set aside. This recipe is for about two people, so adjust portions as needed. Heat the olive oil in a medium skillet on medium heat. Saute garlic and red pepper flakes until garlic turns a darker yellow. Add tomato paste and toast for a minute or two on medium heat. Toss in the can of tomatoes, vodka and cream. Bring to a boil and let simmer. While it simmers add in the artichoke hearts, any other vegetables of your choice and the cooked pork sausage. Let simmer for 5 to 8 minutes, until the alcohol cooks off. Meanwhile, bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Toss in a couple handfuls of pasta. Cook according to directions. Drain the water. Add the pasta to the simmering sauce. (Carefully) taste here. Add salt if needed. Turn off the heat and sprinkle with basil and parsley. Let sit for a minute or two so the sauce can thicken. Serve sprinkled with parmasan cheese.

Would Have Been Better With Shrimp

I suppose it makes sense that when you are uninspired, everything you make is also uninspired. I made an attempt to rally myself last Tuesday. I feigned excitement when I saw a photo of a delicious pasta dish. It could have been so good. I'll blame the health food market I stopped by on my way home that doesn't stock shrimp. So what we're in landlocked Nebraska? This is America, and I want my semi-exotic seafood priced at $5 a pound. I'm being sarcastic. But this dish would have been a lot better with shrimp (versus tofu). Vegetarian Pasta: handful spaghetti 2 tablespoons butter 1/2 cup onion, chopped 1 garlic clove, chopped 1/2 butternut squash, diced 1/3 cup cremini mushrooms, chopped (because mushrooms go in everything) 1 cup chicken/vegetable stock 1 cup dry white wine or marsala 1 teaspoon dried rosemary 1 cup tofu, chopped (or 1 pound already-cooked shrimp) 1/4 cup cream (to thicken) salt and pepper to taste parmsan cheese (to salvage) Start out by bringing a pot of salted water to boil. Cook spaghetti according to directions. Penne pasta would also work well with this dish. Melt butter in sauce pan on medium high heat. Saute onions for a couple minutes. Then throw in the garlic, squash and mushrooms and continue to saute for several more minutes, until the onion in translucent. Add the stock and the rosemary, bring to a boil, then reduce heat to a simmer. Add the wine. Simmer until squash is nearly cooked through. Add the tofu/shrimp while still on simmer. While stirring, add cream slowly until sauce thickens a bit. Add salt and pepper to taste.

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.

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).

Saturday Basghetti.

Friday I went to this old neighborhood Italian restaurant for a review for The Reader. Best thing I can say about them: superb, sweet, silky red sauce. I wrote how it was as good as my mother's. True. Sort of. Mostly it's just completely different. My mom's sauce isn't smooth. It's chunky, with chopped onions, diced tomatoes and meat.

Bailey came over after we volunteered at the Hope Center. Spaghetti seemed the simplest option for a quick dinner. One thing my version lacked, however, was the Italian sausage. My mom always adds this to give the meal a kick. This is the thing that makes this recipe a favorite of Craig's. We made it for that first Valentine's Day dinner in 2004 at the guys' Riggan House (on their one functioning burner), Craig has been subtly requesting it ever since. (Here you go Craig, in case you lost the last recipe I gave you).

Spaghetti and Meat Sauce:

3/4 cup chopped onion

1 clove garlic, minced

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 14.5-ounce cans diced tomatoes

2 6-ounce cans tomato paste

2 cups water

1 teaspoon sugar

1 1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon pepper

1 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

1 bay leaf

cooked spaghetti

1 pound ground beef, cooked

Cook onion and garlic in oil until tender. Stir in next 8 ingredients. Add meat. Simmer uncovered 30 minutes; remove bay leaf. Serve over spaghetti.

Emptying the Fridge.

As I'm going out of town this weekend and am off to Costa Rica (!!) for a week following that, the inspiration for this meal was unloading my refrigerator. Edible contents of the fridge/pantry used in this meal: roma tomato, heirloom tomato, green pepper, canned artichoke hearts, baby bella mushrooms, onion and garlic. I added orzo and some extremely old and already opened marsala cooking wine (gets better with time right?). I didn't have cream so ingeniously made some buttermilk to thicken. Topped with parmasan cheese and basil and parsley. It actually turned out shockingly better than I thought it would. And maybe not so shockingly, I ate all of the vegetables pictured above. In cleaning out the fridge, I ended up throwing away too much old food (kids may not be starving in China anymore but somewhere in Africa they are). One peach in particular looked more like a mushroom than anything else. It is hard cooking for just one person. Sure, no one else would let me get away with what I made tonight. But leftovers every night for a week gets old (figuratively and literally). Anybody got tips for reinventing leftovers?