Thanksgiving 2011

This year, as I plan our menu, my mind turns to those who passed this last year. As some of you know, this has been a very hard year for our family because we lost many loved ones.

At Aunt Dora’s funeral in April, a friend said that soon after his mother died, he continued to pick up the phone to try to call her. It was both a habit and a wish. Another friend who lost her longtime partner was only part joking when she that she wished she could just Google to find out where he is now.

I have the same instinct to want answers and continued intimacy.

I haven’t spent Thanksgiving with my aunt since I moved out of New Jersey in 2008. My parents have travelled to spend the holiday with my husband and I first in Michigan and now Washington, D.C. While I spoke with Aunt Dora almost every day around noon, on Thanksgiving the call would be earlier and last longer. She’d ask to speak with everyone and then check on the menu. She’d ask not only what I was making, but how I was making it. And she’d joke that I should save her a turkey wing, her favorite part of a bird she otherwise disliked.

Aunt Dora was always my go-to person when I had kitchen disasters. Even when I called from Italy, she walked me through hamburger patties that were falling apart and ruined caramel sauces that wouldn’t unstick from my pot. She was a confident and generous home cook. While she would sometimes laugh at my questions (there were, after all, some funny problems), she would always (eventually) answer me seriously. 

I wish I could call her to wish her a happy holiday. She’d end the conversation by asking, as she always did, “When am I going to see you again, kid?”

While there is no longer an answer to that question, there is a menu and turkey to attend to. She would expect me to. And the things I do, starting with cooking, keep her memories awake in my actions and thoughts. It is far from being the same as it was, but it is what we have. 

Moka Express: Italian espresso coffee at home

Every morning, I prepare Italian coffee (what we can “espresso” in America and the Italians call “caffe”) in my Bialetti Moka Express. I think I’m as addicted to the ritual as I am to the coffee itself.

My mokas last a few years each. And a new one is reason for celebration! It feels good to start even fresher than usual in the morning.

There is a certain art to making coffee in this pot. Fill the basket with espresso ground coffee (coffee that is ground much thinner will clog the machine.) Do not pack coffee down in order to squeeze in more coffee (this will make it harder for the pressurized water to push through the grinds.) On the stovetop, the flame shouldn’t be larger than the base. (At least two friends I know have melted the plastic handle with a much stronger flame. That’s always disappointing. And a mess.) For more details on how to prepare the prefect tazza (cup) and other Italian stovetop coffee pots, see this Under the Tuscan Gun video. 

After you’ve finished your coffee, be sure to let your pot cool off before opening it. You can run cold water over the pot while holding it by the handle. After making the coffee, the earlier pressure might make it hard to open the pot. The bottom container has flat sides. In the sink, balance the machine on one side in order to open it more easily.

The moka, a simple metal construction, requires easy cleaning. That is to say, cleaning without soap. Never put your moka in the dishwasher or use dish soap on the metal. A thorough rinse with hot water will clean your moka. Be sure to let it stand open in order to fully air dry after cleaning it.

To help eliminate any buildup or polish the surface, soak your moka in baking soda and use a clean sponge to wash the pot down. To help make yours last even longer, you can also buy the necessary replacement parts.


Help support this blog and buy your moka through our Amazon store. 

What kind of Italian coffee pot do you use? Do you have a favorite coffee roaster?

Buono!: Carbonara Sauce

Thank you to a reader for the Buono! question about carbonara sauce. She wrote, "I'm fascinated by carbonara recipes (egg yolks vs. whole eggs/ cream vs. no cream or broth). Would love to read how you do pasta coal miner's style."

I followed this recipe for carbonara sauce from Under the Tuscan Gun almost exactly. (Don't you love those two? Their videos crack me up.) I didn't have any spaghetti on hand, so I used a package of strozzapreti pasta (whose name translates to, "priest choker." Yikes.)

This creamy sauce is known as "coal miner's style" because the black pepper flakes look like the (hopefully apocryphal) coal that flaked off of the miners when they prepared these simple dishes. Traditionally, there isn't any actual cream in these sauces. The creaminess originates from the combination of grated cheese, slowly cooked eggs (mostly yolks), fat from the pork and water. The recipe calls for the water to come from the pasta water (the water serves to thicken the sauce because it is starchy from the pasta.)

You know I'm not a purist. I invite you to change the recipe anyway you see fit. If you are hesitant to lightly cook (and eat so many) egg yolks, you can cheat and use cream. Substituting broth for the water would add more flavor, although I'm not sure that's necessary with the garlic and pork. I wouldn't use too much broth because without the starch, it might thin the sauce too much.

If you choose to use a lower fat pork (bacon, pancetta or guanciale), you might need more oil in the sauce. I used a thin, lower fat bacon and added some extra olive oil. Butter or margarine could work, too.

A friend emailed me her mother's recipe for this dish and it included vegetables (mushrooms and peas.) I imagine that the result is delicious and I look forward to trying that in the future. I also think we would have enjoyed some hot pepper (dried or fresh) on top.

Next time! There's always a next dinner.

What's your secret to a good carbonara sauce? Share your answer below in the Comments section. 







http://underthetuscangun.com/food/pasta/28-spaghetti-alla-carbonara/

Save Counter Space with a Cookbook Stand

It is the little things that make all the difference. Literally. We have a very little kitchen with very little counter space. While I’m cooking, there’s no room for a cookbook.

I’ve been balancing cookbooks on the top of my toaster oven (not a good idea while its on) or running to check them in another room.

We finally came up with the idea of a cookbook stand that hangs on the wall. A fantastic (and perhaps obvious) easy solution to the problem.

You can find this and other items in my Amazon store. Thank you for shopping there and supporting this blog. 

What have you done to make your kitchen more user-friendly?

Buono!: Bolognese Sauce

Onions and garlic sautéing

Bolognese sauce simmering

Dinner is served!

Welcome to Buono!, a new series where you ask questions about Italian food and I answer them the best I can. Learn more about Buono! here.

In response to a reader question, today I’ll help simplify Bolognese sauce. This is a red meat sauce for pasta that originated in the city of Bologna. I first learned how to make this sauce properly in a cooking class run by chef Benedetta Vitali in her restaurant Zibibbo in Florence, Italy (she still offers classes and I’d highly recommend them.) You can find her recipe in Soffritto, her lovely cookbook named after the onion, celery and carrot mixture that begins many Italian dishes. This recipe from Anne Burrell on the Food Network is fairly similar. 

As you’ll learn in this series, I don’t actually cook by the book. Most nights I don’t have time to do everything the exact traditional way. I use what I have on hand to save time and money.

With that in mind, here are the key elements of my Pasta Bolognese Sauce recipe. Feel free to alter it however you see fit.

Pasta Bolognese Sauce for Four Hungry Folks

1 yellow onion diced

2 cloves of garlic diced

3 tablespoons of olive oil

2 lbs of lean ground beef

3 14.5 oz. cans of diced tomatoes

¼ cup of (cheap, but tasty) red wine

2 bay leaves

salt, pepper, hot pepper to taste

While it would be proper to start with a soffritto, I usually just start with onions and garlic. So, with that in mind, let's get started. In a pot, slowly sauté the onions and garlic in the olive oil until the onion pieces become mostly clear. While a large saucepan with a heavy bottom would be ideal, I use a pot I bought at Ikea over five years ago. It works fine, as long as you keep the heat low so that the olive oil doesn’t burn.

Add the beef and slowly brown it. It is more traditional to use a beef, veal and pork mixture, but you can use whatever meats you prefer. You can buy a package with the three meats mixed together, buy them separately or squeeze out the pork from sausage casings for pork. Some friends like to use ground turkey because it is leaner. I like the heartier taste of the beef.

Once the meat is brown, add the three cans of tomatoes. Fresh Roma tomatoes would be optimal, but I usually use canned tomatoes. Again, canned Roma tomatoes are great, but no one has complained with my Target brand canned tomatoes. There, I said it. I sometimes shop at Target.

To get all of the tomato goodness from your can, run a little water in each can and swish it around before pouring it into your pot. You’ll be boiling the sauce down and a little extra water won’t hurt.

Now pour in the wine. This step isn’t obligatory, but it does help to thicken the flavor and sauce. Some folks will add sugar here to help counter the acidic flavor of the tomatoes. The sugar in the wine will do this for you, too.

Add a bit of salt, pepper, hot pepper and the bay leaves. Bring the sauce to a boil and then lower the heat to a low simmer. Since it is such a thick sauce, it will need to be mixed regularly (every twenty minutes or so) and, as it settles, it will start to bubble and splash a bit.

Let the sauce simmer for about two hours. Your goal is to boil down the water and thicken the sauce. If the meat is fully cooked and you like a more liquid sauce, then don’t boil it too long. You can always add more water (or wine or broth), if you like.

Serve over al dente pasta: spaghetti or your favorite pasta that can hold a heavy sauce. Garnish with grated cheese. While I’m lax about the soffritto, I’m firm on this point: Freshly grate your own cheese. The cheese sold on a shelf far from the refrigerated section doesn’t taste like cheese. It needs its own category. Buy a hand grater like this or this or  toss the chunk of grating cheese (parmesan or  pecorino romano) into your food processor the day you are serving the dish. 

If you have leftovers and start to get bored with eating the same dish again and again, try adding a scoop or two of ricotta in your re-heated pasta. You could also bake it with a layer of mozzarella on top of the pasta and meat sauce.

You can freeze extra sauce, if you’ve made too much and want some more for later. I don’t recommend freezing cooked pasta. It gets quite mushy when it is defrosted (I’ve tried.)

I look forward to hearing how it goes!

Introducing Buono!

I’m very excited to introduce a new series entitled Buono! I’ll be taking reader questions about Italian cooking and answering them here. For more details, check out the new Buono! page. 

Upcoming recipes: Bolognese Sauce (red meat sauce), Cannoli, Stuffed Peppers and Meatballs. 

What would you like to read about? 

Prosciutto, Fig & Arugula Salad

It was such a good eating summer that I’m still thinking about it. Not only did my mother make the most wonderful fried zucchini flowers, but she also prepared Mario Batali’s recipe for grilled fig and prosciutto salad from his cookbook Simple Italian Food. Lightly grilled figs, olive oil, rosemary, parsley, arugula, and balsamic vinegar made this dish perfect.

There were fresh fig trees growing outside of my apartment on New York University’s campus in Florence, Italy.  I would pick a few and eat them fresh and whole. Those were the days. Of course, I was on duty 24 hours a day and lived on campus, but, the figs! The figs!

I’ve seen them in supermarkets around Washington, D.C., late summer and early fall, but they never look spectacular. Or, they do and they are terribly expensive. Have you found a great market for figs?