A Pasta For All Seasons

Tuesday is my long day on campus this semester, and this time of year it's already dark by the time I get out of class, and I'm more than ready for dinner. Riding my bike home in the dark and the cold makes me crave comfort food. Thus, the perfect meal for my Tuesday is something that will come together quickly and easily and appeal to my comfort-food criteria. A simple pasta dish is often the answer.

The great thing about pasta is that it is incredibly versatile. You don't always have to go traditional; it's an ideal canvas for experimenting with unlikely combinations of flavors, or bringing together that random assortment of things left in the fridge toward the end of grocery cycle. The meal I made tonight is just one of those things I threw together with some pantry staples and odds and ends I happened to have on hand. Because I suppose it ought to have a name, I call it patchwork pasta. Though it's not traditional at all, the flavors echo traditional Italian, and it's hearty and familiar enough to fit the comfort food bill. Yet, it's fairly light and relatively healthy. It tastes fresh and light in a way that suggests summer, but because it's made from items that are available year round, it's suitable for any time of the year.

The tangy, salty, and spicy and subtly sweet flavors of this sauce would pair equally well with shrimp or a firm-fleshed fish like tuna. The sauce is substantial enough and the flavor bold enough to hold its own without meat; to make this vegan, omit the butter and parmesan and replace the meat with a can of garbanzo or white beans, or just let the flavors do their thing.

Patchwork Pasta

1/2 pound penne pasta (1/2 a package)

1 large boneless skinless chicken breast, cut into ½ inch cubes

3 oz baby spinach, sliced (baby spinach often comes in 6 oz bags; use half a bag)

½ cup tomato paste

2 Tbsps almonds, chopped

4 garlic cloves, minced

10 green olives, sliced

1/2 cup white wine

Juice of 1/2 a lemon

1 Tbsp butter

1 Tbsp olive oil

2 tsps – 1 Tbsp Crushed red pepper

Coarse salt to taste

Fresh grated Parmesan to garnish

Bring a large pot of salted water to a rolling boil. Add pasta and cook until just al dente. Drain and rinse with cold water and set aside. Meanwhile, melt the butter in a large skillet over medium high heat, and add the olive oil. Add the chicken and allow to brown on all sides. Add the almonds while chicken is browning. Remove chicken and almonds from the skillet and set aside. Add the garlic and crushed red pepper to the skillet and cook until garlic starts to turn golden. Pour in the wine and lemon juice, followed by the tomato paste and salt. Stir well to combine. When it starts to bubble, add the olives and spinach to the pan. Once the spinach cooks down a bit, return the chicken to the pan and toss. Add the pasta to the skillet and toss until it is well coated with the sauce and heated through. Serve topped with a generous sprinkling of Parmesan cheese. Four servings

Semper Pasta

I made a couple of pasta dishes in the past week that I thought I should share. The first is carbonara, a fairly typical pasta dish, usually associated with Rome. In fact, I believe this may have been the first real Italian food I ever ate, in Rome, when I traveled to Italy with my high school Latin club (yes...Latin club. Semper ubi sub ubi. What?). Being a stupid sixteen year old, I think my reaction to it was, "Pasta with eggs and ham? Seriously, what are they trying to pull?" In my defense I was probably irritable because of severe jet lag and, authentic though, I realize now, the food may have been, it probably was not very good. Being part of a low rent tour group and all, we ate a lot of substandard, buffet-style meals. But anyway. I have since discovered that this dish can be delicious, if made well.

I haven't been able to track down the exact etymology of "carbonara," but a lot of sources render it "coal miner's style" pasta in English. I have also seen claims that it is called this not because it was the traditional lunch break fare of Italian coal miners, but because the black pepper gives it the appearance of being sprinkled with coal dust. Wikipedia claims these speculations are apocryphal, and that in fact there are no known recipes for the dish dating from before WWII. The Oxford Companion to Food claims that Romans invented the dish to incorporate the bacon and eggs they received from US troops as a supplement to their war-time rations. In any case, carbonara is a tasty and economical pasta dish that delivers satisfying creaminess without as much fat as a cream- or butter-based sauce like Alfredo. The primary ingredients are spaghetti, bacon (to be more fancy you could use specialty Italian-style bacon such as pancetta or guanciale, but regular bacon will suffice), eggs, cheese, salt and pepper. I also like to add peas, a common American twist.

This recipe is slightly modified from Leite's Culinaria. Now. This is fairly straightforward and easy once you get the hang of it, but this dish takes a little bit of practice. It is essential that you time things correctly and have all your ingredients ready to go when you need them. When the pasta is done cooking, you need to be ready to throw it back in the skillet right away. You want the pasta coated in sauce that is thick and rich, not pasta with scrambled egg in it. Don't worry that, because the sauce is viscous, the eggs are not fully cooked. They are, through some chemistry-related process that I cannot explain, but that Alton Brown probably could. By the way, I love Alton Brown. He's like the Bill Nye of cooking (I also love Bill Nye).

1/2 pound of spaghetti (about 1/2 a package)

4 strips of bacon

3 eggs, beaten

1 cup grated Parmiggiano-Reggiano cheese (or Parmesan if you can't find/afford the other stuff)

1 cup frozen peas, thawed and drained

salt and pepper to taste, plus extra cheese for garnish

Fry the bacon in a large skillet until crisp. Remove from skillet and drain off most of the excess grease. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. While the water heats up, chop the bacon into small pieces. When the water boils, at the pasta to the pot and remember to check the pasta frequently for doneness, instead of relying on package directions. When the pasta is almost done, turn the heat on under the bacon skillet to low. Remove the pasta from heat and drain, reserving a little of the pasta water. Return the pasta immediately to the skillet. Pour the eggs and over the pasta, adding the hot pasta water as needed to thicken the sauce. Toss the spaghetti well to coat with the egg and cheese; return the chopped bacon and peas to the skillet and cook until warmed through. This makes three to four servings.

The second pasta dinner I made combines the classic triumvirate of sausage, peppers and onions with rigatoni for a hearty meal. I think of sausage, peppers, and pasta as a totally Italian thing, but I could not learn much about the origins of this combo. The nifty blog Almost Italian sheds some light on it, suggesting that, while Italian restaurants might serve this dish under glamorous-sounding names like Pasta alla Napoletana or Pasta alla Calabrese, the fact is it was probably thrown together in some Italian-American immigrant's kitchen for no other reason than that's what they had to work with. It is no less Italian--or American--for all that.

This is one of those meaty dishes, by the way, that can translate to a faithful vegetarian or vegan approximation. While I'm not crazy about a lot of meat-substitute products, I have found that there are a lot of meatless sausages out there that are quite good, both in terms of flavor and texture. At Avanti we had wheat-based meatless Italian sausage that was nearly indistinguishable from the real thing. Unfortunately I don't know the name of the brand, but I know good options are out there.

Rigatoni with Italian Sausage, Peppers, and Onions

1/2 pound rigatoni (about 1/2 a package)

2 sweet Italian sausage links, sliced into 1/4 inch rounds (If you substitute spicy sausage, omit the red pepper flakes)

1 large onion, pie sliced

1 and 1/2 bell peppers, seeded and sliced into thin strips

3 cloves garlic, sliced

1/4 cup of beer or red wine (I used Fat Tire Amber Ale)

1/4 cup crushed tomato or tomato sauce

2 tsps red pepper flakes

1 tsp each salt, oregano, basil, black pepper

Grated Parmesan cheese for garnish

Heat a little olive oil in a large skillet. Cook the sausage over medium heat until well browned on both sides. Meanwhile, start heating a large pot of water for the pasta. When the sausage is fully cooked, remove it from the skillet and set aside, and drain off excessive drippings. Add the garlic to the skillet and cook until it starts to turn golden. Add the onion and cook until it starts to soften. Add the peppers, beer (or wine), tomato and spices. Cook until the peppers begin to soften and the liquid reduces. When the rigatoni is done, drain and rinse and add to the skillet. If you have a small stove and a less capacious skillet, as I do, I suggest that you remove everything to a large bowl and then throw only as much pasta and sausage mixture back into the skillet for one serving. Although I suppose it's not strictly necessary that it goes back in the skillet, I like to do this because it kind of cooks the sauce to the pasta and improves flavor and texture in my opinion. Toss everything together until well combined and serve. This makes four large servings.

Anyway, I should really get back to my reading and stuff now. I'll catch up with again in a few days, depending on how my schedule goes.

Tony Rigatoni

...That's "tony" as in fancy, or posh. You wouldn't think that a chunky tubular pasta could be glam, but I think this recipe is. Not only that, but it's easy, and relatively cheap, too! I drew inspiration from two sources to come up with this dish. One is a simple, fairly standard Italian recipe that consists of a chunky shaped pasta, like rigatoni or orecchiette, tossed with chunks of Italian sausage and broccoli rabe. Broccoli rabe (or raab, or rapini), if you don't happen to know, is not related to broccoli, but is actually a type of mustard green. It gets its name from the broccoli-like green buds it sprouts. It has a strong bitter flavor that pairs really well with rich sausage. I don't know what this dish is called, but I have seen it in a lot of places. I got it once at Ciao Italian restaurant in Newport Beach, one of my favorite Italian restaurants ever, and it was so good I've been meaning to make it ever since.

The second source of inspiration came from a pizza topped with garnet yam, arugula, and artichoke pesto on the menu at Avanti Cafe in Costa Mesa. I worked at Avanti for a while, and a lot of what I know about preparing food and being creative and efficient in the kitchen comes from working with those lovely people. Fun times. Anyway, those may sound like weird pizza toppings, but the salty-sweet-bitter combination of flavors balance each other really well and the overall effect is light and delicious. I thought roasted yam would pair similarly well with spicy and salty Italian sausage, and arugula is a bitter salad green that has a very similar flavor to broccoli rabe. So I decided to mix all these things together, and I was quite pleased with the result. The yam really makes the dish seem special, even though it's one of the easier pasta dishes I think I've made. There are a few prep-intensive steps involved, but they are not complex. Also, if you've never roasted yams before except to make that Thanksgiving casserole with the marshmallows on top, you are missing out. Roasted yams are an easy vegetable to prepare, they are extremely good for you, they are delicious, and surprisingly versatile. I recommend you add them to your repertoire of easy vegetable sides if you haven't cooked with them before.

Tony Rigatoni

Olive oil

1 large yam, unpeeled

2 large garlic cloves, sliced

1/4 - 1/2 pound Italian sausage* (one or two largish links), casings removed

4 loosely-packed cups arugula (This seems like a lot, but it will cook down to about a quarter of its volume.)

1/2 pound rigatoni or similar pasta

kosher salt, black pepper, and crushed red pepper to taste

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Scrub the yam well, dry, poke with a fork on all sides, and rub all over with olive oil and a sprinkling of salt. Incidentally, the salt is not for seasoning, but aids cooking by drawing out moisture. This technique is ideal for flaky baked potatoes as well. Cook the yam on a foil-covered baking sheet until a fork can be inserted easily into the center; half an hour to an hour. When the yam is done baking and has cooled for a bit, the skin will come off easily. Chop the yam (or use a large spoon or melon baller to scoop it out of the skin) into bite-sized chunks, and set aside. Put pasta water on to boil. Heat a little olive oil in a large skillet. Add the garlic and crushed red pepper and cook for a few minutes. Add the sausage, using the side of a wooden spoon or spatula to break it up into small chunks. Allow the sausage to cook for several minutes, stirring occasionally, until it is thoroughly cooked and well browned on all sides. Add the arugula to the skillet and cook in the sausage drippings until it is just wilted. Remove from heat. Meanwhile, cook the rigatoni, testing frequently**. When the pasta is done and drained, toss everything together and serve immediately, seasoned to taste with salt and pepper and topped with a little fresh-grated Parmesan cheese. Four servings.

*I used sweet Italian sausage, but in the future I might try spicy. A little more spice would kick this up a notch, as Emeril Legasse might say.

**Mushy, over-cooked pasta is unacceptable to the Sexy Divorcee. Something I learned at Avanti: When cooking pasta, NEVER trust the cooking time given on the package. Cooking times for different kinds of pasta vary widely, so you should always test your pasta frequently as it cooks until you get a piece that is just slightly undercooked. By the time you turn the heat off and drain your pasta, it will be perfectly al dente. Rinse the pasta in cold water to stop the cooking. Even if you find that your pasta is a little too al dente at first, it will soften up when it sits in the fridge and your leftovers will be a nice texture instead of soggy, like leftover pasta can tend to be.