Farfalle with Pistachio Cream Sauce

People keep asking me why, if I’m living in Sicily, I haven’t posted any Italian or Sicilian recipes on this site. Well, the answer is simple. I just don’t cook Italian food at home that often because I can go out and get really good pasta or pizza anytime I want. In fact, it’s very difficult to find restaurants in Sicily that serve anything besides Italian food. While I love the food here, we like to experiment with different things at home. Of course a lot of my recipes have been influenced by the foods that are readily available here and new cooking techniques that I have picked up over the last few years. So, even if my recipes aren’t considered to be Italian, many of them are definitely born from my culinary experiences in Sicily :-)

But there are a few Sicilian dishes I like to make at home and I will definitely be sharing them with you over time. And hopefully the list will continue to grow! One of my favorites is Pasta con Pesto al Pistacchio or Pasta with Pistacchio Sauce. Variations of this dish can be found in most restaurants here but this recipe is definitely one of the tastiest I’ve had. The best part is that it’s really fast and simple to make!

The pistachios grown here in Sicily are prized for their brilliant green color and are exported throughout the world. The majority of the nuts come from Bronte, an area situated on the base of Mount Etna. Unlike in the United States, where pistachios are often eaten out of hand, Sicilians use pistachios in a wide variety of both sweet and savory treats. Perhaps most famous is the pistachio gelato which I believe is the best gelato flavor in the world! But you will also find several types of pistachio cakes, cookies, candies and pastries. Of the savory dishes, my favorite is this one:

Farfalle with Pistachio Cream Sauce
8 oz. farfalle or penne pasta
1/2 medium white or yellow onion, chopped
1/4 C. ground pistachio (unsalted nuts, ground in a blender or food processor)
2 T. olive oil (plus a little extra)
1/2 – 3/4 C. heavy cream (according to taste)
crushed red pepper
salt
fresh ground black pepper

1. Bring a pot of salted water to boil.
2. In the meantime, chop onion and grind the pistachios until the pieces are very small but not completely uniform.
3. Add pasta to water and boil according to package directions.
4. While pasta is cooking, begin sauce: Heat olive oil in a medium sauté pan, add onion and cook until translucent but not browned.
5. Add pistachios and enough oil to moisten them (if needed). It should be a paste-like consistency.
6. Cook, stirring, over medium heat for about one minute (do not let the pistachios take on any color).
7. Add cream, stir until heated through, then remove from heat.
8. Add crushed red pepper, black pepper and plenty of salt to taste.
9. When pasta is al dente, drain well then add to the sauté pan with the sauce. Toss well to coat and serve immediately with lots of fresh grated parmigiano reggiano.

Serves four as a first course.

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I Dreamed of Broccoli

No, really I did! Of course it was only a daydream, but that daydream led to my new favorite roasted broccoli recipe that I plan on sharing with you once I get through telling my silly story. I was at the gym, on the elliptical machine, listening to Bob Marley on my new ipod shuffle (I know, I probably wasn’t moving very fast while listening to that), when all of a sudden I drifted off and started daydreaming about the broccoli in my fridge. Some friends and I had visited our little organic market the day before and although pickings were slim because we showed up later than usual, I did get a very nice looking bunch of broccoli, some carrots (dirt and greens still attached), lemons, and blood oranges. Now, why it was that I didn’t dream of the citrus fruit or the carrots that day at the gym, I’ll never know. But I just couldn’t stop thinking of that broccoli. Who daydreams about broccoli at the gym??

I had been planning on using the broccoli for either a quiche or some soup but all of a sudden I couldn’t stop thinking about eating the broccoli by itself. I just wanted to go home, steam it, and eat it. All of it. But then my broccoli daydream got a little more interesting. I started thinking about roasting it. I love roasted broccoli! But the recipe I’ve used lately for roasted broccoli includes so many heavy seasonings that you can hardly taste the vegetable. You see I usually douse it in olive oil and toss it with tons of chili powder, garlic and whatever else I feel like throwing in the mix, then roast it until just tender (have to give Rachael Ray credit for that). It always turns out great but this time I was craving broccoli, not chili powder.

So there I was, still on the elliptical machine, listening to Yusuf Islam (still not moving very fast) and I start thinking that maybe instead of dumping tons of spices on the broccoli, I could add a subtler flavor by seasoning the oil with some fresh garlic. That was it! Once my brain seized on that idea, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Fresh broccoli spears tossed with garlic oil, salt and fresh ground pepper, roasted until crispy on the outside and just tender on the inside. It sounded so good that I ended up hopping off the machine a few minutes early (broccoli seems like a good excuse to cut a workout short!) and heading home. On the way home, I kept thinking about the recipe and by the time I got here, I had decided that lemon juice and parmesan cheese would make it even better without overpowering the broccoli too much.

So, I heated some oil in a saucepan, threw in a couple of smashed garlic cloves and let it cook slowly over low heat while I started washing and cutting up the broccoli. At the last minute, I decided that some heat would make the recipe even better so I threw a pinch of crushed red pepper into the garlic oil and let it cook for another minute or so.

Next, I strained the chili-garlic oil into a large mixing bowl, tossed in the broccoli flowerets, squeezed the juice of half a lemon on top, added a pinch of salt, several grinds of black pepper and tossed and tossed and tossed until all of the broccoli was coated with the oil and lemon. Then I spread it out in a single layer on a baking sheet and put it into my preheated 425 degree oven. While it was in the oven, I found my microplane and grated up a little pile of Parmigiano Reggiano.

After 10 minutes or so, the broccoli was nice and crispy on the bottom and just barely tender, which is how I happen to like it. I dumped it all back into the bowl, sprinkled the cheese on top, tossed again and then ate it. All of it.

No, it’s not normal for me to daydream about vegetables at the gym. I think it might have something to do with the fact that I’ve been eating almost nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches for the last week or so. My body needed something green! But it’s true that for the last year now, my head is constantly filled with new recipe ideas and once I get something in my head, I can’t stop thinking about it until I write it down or try making it.

I usually end up scribbling things down on whatever piece of paper I can find. Of course I generally lose these scraps of paper before I get around to doing anything with them. But if it’s a good idea, it will usually come to me again. This broccoli recipe ended up being written on the envelope of my friend’s wedding invitation (sorry Dustin and Elisa) because for some reason, all of the 20 pads of paper that I own have migrated upstairs and been lost in the Bermuda triangle of paperwork that we like to call our home office. I usually write the recipe as I’m cooking and then while I’m eating, I read it over and make corrections. I always try making it again using my written recipe, to make sure that it works. Usually it does, but sometimes I have to revise it a few times. For something as simple as roasted broccoli, I probably don’t need to test the recipe before publishing it on here but I did it anyway because it’s really good (even for breakfast, as I found out this morning)

Oven Roasted Broccoli with Lemon, Chili-Garlic Oil and Parmesan

1 bunch of broccoli
¼ C. extra virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, smashed
¼ t. crushed red pepper (optional)
Juice of ½ lemon
Kosher salt
Fresh ground pepper
Fresh grated Parmigiano Reggiano

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
2. Heat the oil and garlic in a small saucepan over low heat. Make sure the heat is low and that the garlic is not cooking too fast. Set timer for five minutes.
3. While garlic oil is heating, wash and cut your broccoli into pieces. I cut the flowerets into halves and/or quarters and leave a couple inches of stem attached to each piece.
4. After the oil and garlic has heated for five minutes (the garlic should be turning golden brown, not burning!), add the crushed chili if using, heat for an additional minute then turn off stove.
5. Strain chili-garlic oil into a large, heat-proof mixing bowl then add the broccoli.
6. Squeeze the juice of half a lemon into the bowl then add a pinch of coarse salt (keep in mind that the cheese will add more saltiness) and several grinds of black pepper (if you don’t have a pepper grinder, why not??).
7. Toss everything together well with a big wooden spoon so that each piece of broccoli has a thin coating of oil.
8. Using tongs, so that the excess oil drains off, remove the broccoli to a rimmed baking sheet and spread it out in a single layer.
9. Place broccoli in a preheated 425 degree oven for about 10 minutes. If your oven tends to be hot, check the broccoli earlier. If you like it to be extra tender, leave it in longer. At 10 minutes, the broccoli will have started to caramelize on the bottom and may even look a little burnt but don’t worry, it will taste good!
10. While the broccoli is roasting, grate some fresh Parmesan cheese (I prefer parmigiano reggiano).
11. When the broccoli is done to your liking, immediately toss it with as much cheese as you desire and enjoy!

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Herbed Tuna Salad with Feta and Pine Nuts

There’s a weekly food blog event that I have been meaning to participate in for quite some time now. It’s called Weekend Herb Blogging and it’s a great way for people who enjoy using fresh herbs to share tips, ideas, information, and recipes with one another. The event, now on it’s 82nd week I believe, was founded by Kalyn of Kalyn’s Kitchen and is still hosted there the first weekend of each month. During the other three weeks, the event roams around the food blog community, hosted by different bloggers each week. If you wish to participate, simply write a little something about a fresh herb and/or post a recipe featuring fresh herbs. Put it on your blog sometime during the week (any week, every week) and then e-mail the link to the person who is hosting the event. All of the links are compiled and then posted together at the end of the week by the host. Like all food blog events, it’s a great way to learn something new, find recipes, and also discover new food blogs.

Like many Americans, we didn’t eat a lot of dishes featuring fresh herbs while I was growing up. We always had a garden, ate tons of fresh fruits and vegetables, and both of my parents were great cooks. But for whatever reason, fresh herbs just weren’t a huge part of my early culinary experience. Cilantro is probably the first herb that I remember using on a regular basis but that was only for making fresh salsa. I didn’t even know that cilantro was used for anything other than Mexican food!

Well, I’ve come a long way, and spending a few years in Sicily has certainly helped me discover the joys of using fresh parsley, basil, oregano and rosemary. I’ve also discovered that cilantro is widely used in many different cuisines around the world and I now use it all the time. I am growing several different herbs in my backyard and am always trying to find new ways to use them. I currently have rosemary, thyme, oregano, basil, parsley, chives, savory and sage growing in a couple barrel planters in the back. And I generally have fresh cilantro on hand now that I discovered it in an international foods store here (cilantro isn’t a popular herb in Italy so I don’t find it in the open-air markets). But I still have a lot to learn about fresh herbs and I’m looking forward to sharing recipes and learning new things each week from all the other Weekend Herb Bloggers!

The recipe that I am submitting to the event this week is a tuna salad that features two fresh herbs: parsley and chives. My aunt Kathy is the person who turned me on to using fresh herbs in tuna. She likes to put cilantro in hers and so do I but the day I made this, I was fresh out! Parsley has become my go-to herb anytime I want to add a little something extra to a dish, so I threw that in. The chives I added just for the hell of it and the rest of the recipe just came together the way most of my recipes do — from things I happened to have on hand. The great thing about this tuna salad is that it uses very little mayonnaise and, even though I added some feta cheese and pine nuts, I think it’s much better for you than a typical mayo-laden tuna salad. On a whim, I substituted thickened plain yogurt for most of the mayo and it turned out great! I still added a little mayonnaise because I happen to really like it but I think you could leave it out completely and this would still be wonderful.

This tuna salad would be good on bread or in a pita but I’ve discovered that my favorite way to eat this is to scoop it right onto a piece of lettuce, pick it up, and eat it by hand. You can use the small inner leaves of romaine or boston lettuce and make several cute little snacks, or you can fill up a larger piece. And by all means, use a fork if you want to. But I’m warning you, it’s not as much fun ;-)

So, here is this week’s recipe for Weekend Herb Blogging, which will be hosted by Pat at Up the Creek without a PatL. Be sure to check her site at the end of the weekend to find out what everyone else submitted! And if you are interested in participating, you can find the official rules at Kalyn’s Kitchen as well as information about who will be hosting the event in upcoming weeks.

Herbed Tuna Salad with Feta and Pine Nuts

6 oz. can of tuna, drained
1/4 C. plain, thick yogurt*
1 T. mayonnaise
1/4 C. crumbled feta cheese
1 T. chopped fresh parsley
1 T. snipped fresh chives
1 – 2 T. toasted pine nuts**
a squeeze of fresh lemon juice
fresh ground black pepper
4 small to medium leaves of romaine lettuce

1. In a medium bowl, stir together all the ingredients with a fork.
2. Spoon salad into the middle of the lettuce leaves, garnish with extra chopped herbs if desired.
3. Enjoy!

* If your yogurt is runny, line a strainer with cheesecloth, pour in one cup of yogurt and let drain over a bowl for half an hour or so. Measure out 1/4 C. of the thickened yogurt and proceed with recipe.

** Toast pine nuts in a small, dry skillet over medium heat. Shake the pan frequently and don’t leave them unattended, they will toast very quickly! When they start to turn a golden brown, remove nuts to a small bowl and let cool.

Print this recipe!

Just for fun, here are a few more easy Pinch My Salt recipes that also use chives:  Creamy Blue Cheese Dip with Lemon and Chives,  Cheddar Chive and Sour Cream Omelette, and Sour Cream, Cheddar and Chive Biscuits.  Enjoy!

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It’s Strawberry Time!

If you’ve had a chance to visit any of the outdoor markets lately, you’ve seen them. Piles of bright red berries, gleaming in the sunlight, just waiting to be taken home and devoured! There are a variety of strawberries here in Sicily, from the impossibly tiny fragoline to the gigantic fragolone, and every size in between. Although strawberries are a wonderfully healthy, low-calorie treat when eaten plain, I look forward to strawberry season for another reason: Strawberry Shortcake!

The strawberry shortcake I grew up eating was assembled using those little yellow sponge cake cups that can be found right next to the strawberries in almost any grocery store in the United States. As a child, I thought those little pre-packaged treats were wonderful topped with strawberries and whipped cream. But after tasting homemade strawberry shortcake for the first time several years ago, I walked away from the little yellow cakes and I’ve never looked back!

I’ve been experimenting lately with my old shortcake recipe and I’ve come up with a new one that generously serves four people. If you have a large family, double the recipe. Shortcake is best eaten warm from the oven and since this recipe is fairly quick and easy, you can prepare it right before you want to eat it.

These shortcakes are simply butter-rich, slightly sweet drop biscuits (very close to a scone). And although they may not taste like dessert if you eat them on their own, they are the perfect accompaniment to the sweet strawberries and syrup.

For best results, make sure your butter is very cold and work quickly. Also, be sure to let the strawberry and sugar mixture macerate while you proceed with the recipe as the berries need time to release their tasty juices! For easy clean-up, try lining your baking sheet with parchment paper.

Strawberry Shortcake
4 C. fresh strawberries, rinsed and sliced
4 – 6 T. sugar (adjust to suit your own taste)

1 ½ C. all-purpose flour
1 ½ t. baking soda
4 T. sugar
1/3 C. butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 C. cold milk
1/2 t. pure vanilla extract
whipped cream (I prefer the real thing)

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees
2. In a medium bowl, stir together the strawberries and sugar. Set aside while you prepare the shortcakes.
   
3. In another medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, and sugar.
   
4. Using a pastry blender or your fingertips and working quickly, cut the butter into the flour until it resembles coarse crumbs.
   
5. Add milk and vanilla all at once to flour mixture and stir until just combined.
   
6. Using a large spoon, drop mixture into four equal piles on an ungreased baking sheet.
   
7. Bake 12 – 15 minutes at 425 degrees.
   
8. Remove biscuits to a rack and let cool for a few minutes.
   
9. To serve, split a biscuit in two, spoon ¼ of the berry mixture over the bottom half (make sure you include lots of the juice), top with whipped cream and the other half of the biscuit.

More Ways With Strawberries
Last week, I asked for some strawberry recipe contributions to be included in this post. Thanks to everyone who responded, I received some really great ideas!

First I’ll start out with a drink recipe given by my friend Ruby. I’ll just let her tell you in her own words how to make this yummy-sounding Strawberry Margarita! Take it away, Rubes!
Well first off you need a good Osterizer blender (much like the one
your Aunt Kathy gave us for our wedding)!
This is a 2 drink recipe that Ron and I use…
wedge of lime and coarse salt to rim the glass!
2 cups of crushed ice
6 cut, fresh strawberries (minus stems)
1/2 shot of lime juice
pinch of coarse salt (optional)
pinch of sugar (optional, depends on how sweet you want it)
1 1/2 shots of tequila (good tequila)
1/2 shot of triple sec

1. Rub lime on the edges of two margarita glasses and dip in salt (optional)
2. Blend all ingredients to a fine puree.
3. Divide drink mixture between the two glasses
4. Garnish with a strawberry and you have achieved total yumminess!

Moving on…
Veronica from La Recette du Jour gives us a recipe for Strawberries Romanoff, a recipe she says is good for enhancing early-season, dull-tasting strawberries.
Next up, Sara from The Kitchen of San Lorenzo submitted the simple but elegant Strawberries with Balsamic Vinegar.
Then, Terry from Blue Kitchen chimed in with a sweet and tangy salsa recipe that stars both mangoes and strawberries! You must head over there and check out the Spicy Salmon with Mango Salsa!
Melody from Fruit Tart answered my request for Strawberry Pie recipes with her beautiful and rustic Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. In her own words, “This is ‘farm food’. It isn’t fancy gourmet stuff. This is the simple, rustic, real thing.”
Alanna from A Veggie Venture was way ahead of me when it came to rounding up strawberry recipes! She wrote about three of them — Strawberries in Wine, Strawberry Banana Chocolate Crumble and Strawberry Fool — in her Kitchen Parade Article.
Anne from A Foodie Froggie in Paris (I just love the name of her blog!), was also generous with her strawberry recipes! First there’s the Strawberry and Raspberry Tiramisu. And as if that’s not enough, she gives us two more — Strawberry Soup and Strawberry and Mango Tartare with Orange Blossom. Wow!
Mary from the aptly titled blog, Sweet Mary, gives us another unbelievably gorgeous, lattice-top Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. It’s beautiful, go check out the photos!
How does this sound? Camembert with Baked Strawberries and black pepper, Tagliatelle with Strawberries and Lemon Sole, Strawberry Lassi… Intrigued? Well, head over to Paulchen’s Food Blog for a strawberry-based menu that, to me, sounds out of this world!
And finally, go visit What Did You Eat for some Strawberry Coffeecake. This looks so good that I think it will be the very first new strawberry recipe I try!
Update: Just found another interesting strawberry recipe! Rachel at Coconut and Lime made some Lemon Cupcakes with Strawberry Centers and they look yum-my!
Oh, and one more! Deb from Smitten Kitchen just posted a beautiful beautiful Strawberry Rhubard Crumble! If the pies seem like too much effort but you’re craving that strawberry rhubarb combination, this recipe might be right up your alley! If not, go check out Smitten Kitchen anyway, I guarantee you’ll find something to drool over!
Another Update: Have you ever tried Strawberry Bruschetta? I had never heard of it, but after reading the recipe over at Patty’s Pantry NYC, I can’t wait to try it!
Now for more shortcake recipes
Veronica from La Recette du Jour is back to give us a recipe for biscuits that she says are light and crumbly and would also make a nice base for other desserts.
Jen, from The Barmy Baker, gives us her Scrumptious Strawberry Shortcake with lots of mouthwatering photos! While you’re there, make sure to congratulate her, she was recently married :-)
For more beautiful Strawberry Shortcake photos and another great recipe, visit Culinary Concoctions by Peabody and prepare to drool! Her Strawberry Shortcake using Cinnamon Scented Biscuits and Mascarpone Cheese really takes Strawberry Shortcake to the next level!
Now I know that there are tons of strawberry recipes out there, so feel free to add links to your favorites in the comments box below! Enjoy!

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A Salad in Dishabille

While vacationing on the beaches of North Carolina, and spending as many hours watching the Food Network as dipping my feet in the ocean, I began to feel a little ... I suppose I could call it a foodcrush taking hold ... a foodcrush on, well ... a certain Jamie Oliver. Yep, that would be The Naked Chef.

This foodcrush isn't based on the winning power of his crooked smile or English accent (and I will never admit otherwise). The Jamie Oliver foodcrush has everything to do with the food I watched him make while wearing my pajamas in the hotel at noon while my husband (wearing a seer-sucker!) read Charles Taylor on the beach.

A food blogger deprived of the Food Network in her own home makes for a food blogger especially vulnerable to food celebrities and food porn. I admired Giada's breasts and tiramisu. I wanted to touch Paula Deen's hair and taste her fried chicken. I marveled at Rachel Ray's stamina. Iron Chef made me strangely nostalgic for Star Trek. As I watched the challenger break into a sweat, I could just hear Leonard "Bones" McCoy saying through clenched teeth, "I'm a doctor, not an Iron Chef."

And then there was Jamie. He made a leek and prosciutto pasta topped with porcini bread crumbs, which I promptly cooked once back in Pittsburgh, but didn't post--despite its tastiness--because it seemed to resemble this recipe too closely, and, considering the recent paucity of posts, I didn't want to seem like a one-trick pony. Then, Jamie grilled some octopus, tossed it with radicchio and chorizo sauteed in garlic. I had never imagined such a thing: simple, rustic, and--so it seemed to me at the time--a bit on the bawdy side. I suppose that's why Mr. Oliver fashions himself The Naked Chef, an infelicitous appellation, perhaps, read through foodcrush-tinted glasses, it seems not only not silly, but (at the risk of reader eye-rolling) earnest.

This recipe strikes me as naked indeed: juicy peaches, fresh mozzarella, greens lightly dressed in lemon and olive oil, mint to keep things cool, and pepper flakes to spice them up. It's a sweet, milky, tart, and piquant salad, just the thing for humid summer nights. I don't recall ever pairing mozzarella with peaches, but let me tell you now, this is a lovely marriage. I couldn't help but think that the pale and mild mozzarella was taking on the sweet peaches' blush. Cringe, if you will, but I can't help it. This salad is sentimental love poetry on a plate.

While writing this post I remembered that I had already posted a peach salad recipe. It was spinach-based, and featured feta instead of mozzarella. This was the first recipe I posted after moving to Pittsburgh. I was weary of unpacking boxes in the heat, but giddy about an imminent kitchen renovation which has yet to happen. This peach salad recipe may be less imbued with the sort of kitchen fantasies materialized in the form of stainless steel appliances and subway tile backsplashes; instead, it musters fantasies of simple summer dinners prepared in a cramped, ugly kitchen, and eaten in good company. These are fantasies stripped of finery. Thanks, Jamie.

Peach and Mozzarella Salad
Adapted from Jamie Oliver's The Naked Chef Takes Off. Serves 2.


If this recipe has a flaw--and I'm not saying it necessarily does--it would be that it can veer from moist toward soggy. It's a good idea to drain your mozzarella thoroughly, pat it dry, and maybe even press it between paper towels before tearing it into chunks. If your peaches are especially juicy, go easy on the lemon and olive oil dressing.

Good mozzarella doesn't come cheap, and this is not the place to skimp on quality because those rugged little hills of mozzarella are really what make the dish. I've been quite happy with the two brands I've found at Whole Foods, but I've sworn off the stuff sold by Trader Joe's. I've tried it quite a few times in the interest of saving a buck, but found it to be consistently flavorless and rubbery. And that makes for a sad mozzarella.

Jamie Oliver's recipe includes a few thin slices of prosciutto. Sounds good to me, but I didn't have any on hand, and I can't say I missed it.

2 ripe peaches, pitted, peeled (only if you like), and cut into wedges
4 oz. fresh mozzarella cheese, torn into chunks
2 cups salad greens
2 tablespoons lemon juice
5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
salt and fresh ground pepper
1/4 teaspoon-1 teaspoon dried pepper flakes (some like it hot, some like it not)
a handful of fresh mint leaves

Whisk together lemon juice, olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste. Toss salad greens in this dressing and divide between two plates. Arrange peach slices and mozzarella on top of greens. Sprinkle with pepper flakes and mint leaves.

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Cooking Colors

The conversation usually goes like this:

Nice Person: "So, I heard you...
a) like to cook. What do you cook?"
b) write a blog about food. What do you cook?"
c) spending your spare time cooking instead of writing your dissertation. What do you cook?"

Me: "Oh, well, yeah, I like to cook...oh, all sorts of things, really...I sort of, you know, like to experiment with new recipes... [Nice Person continues to smile nicely]...Well, and I like to use seasonal fruits and vegetables when I can, and, ummm...I guess I just like to fiddle around in the kitchen."

That answer is generally a conversation-ender. I guess it comes across as some sort of lame excuse for an answer to a question that, though completely reasonable, seems to lack a satisfying response--at least from my mouth. There's the cuisine-centric option: I cook Italian. Or, the diet-focused one: I cook low-carb and no red meat. Maybe a technique-driven answer would work: I cook with a wok. Sometimes I braise.

I cook omelets. I cook from Bon Appetit magazine. I cook pork. What's a girl to say?

Just this week the answer hit me...not necessarily the answer that will satisfy my interlocuters (I haven't had the occasion to try it out yet), but the answer that reflects why I choose one recipe over another. Luckily, it's short, and easy to memorize: "I cook colors. And occasionally textures." There you have it.

You'd think I would have come to this realization earlier, considering that, once I figured out how to arrange my posts by category in Blogger, I labeled them according to color and texture. [See right-hand column of this page]. I didn't think for a moment that this particular organization choice would be as user-friendly as one that arranged recipes according to main ingredient or preparation technique or dinner course. But, I thought, it's not like droves of time-pressed and hungry internet-surfers are daily clicking over to Food and Paper in search of culinary inspiration. So I labeled my posts as red, yellow, green, creamy, crunchy, and squishy without realizing that the answer to the question, "So, what do you cook?," has been right there in my side bar for months.

It was only when I found myself on the brink of tears, wrestling with a ruined batch of beet pasta dough in a 90 degree kitchen that I realized the lengths I would go for a plate full of color. After I chucked the beet dough blob that refused to firm up into anything remotely capable of being rolled through a pasta maker, I immediately started steaming a pound of spinach, my heart set on bright green pasta instead of bright pink. It wasn't to be. The report on that batch will have to wait for another day... let's just say that, later that evening, my dinner guests dined on pale yellow pasta bought at the eleventh hour from Whole Foods. Fortunately, I had a few more colors up my sleeve.

For the past few weeks, my Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) box from the Kretchmanns' farm has included a bag of radishes, a pretty little vegetable that I fear I have gravely neglected. With this steady supply, I've been slicing them over salads, salsas, and now crostini. Here, they do double duty--layered in paper-thin slices over a slathering of ricotta cheese and grated radish. Dressed up with flecks of green herbs and a dainty branch of dill, these nibbles seem more like art than appetizer.

Radish Crostini
inspired by an epicurious recipe from Gourmet, April 1997.
Makes about 16 crostini.


1 baguette, sliced at an angle into 1/2 inch thick slices
extra virgin olive oil
coarse salt and fresh ground pepper
1 garlic clove
1 cup ricotta cheese
4 ounces goat cheese, softened
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest
12 large radishes
1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley
1 tablespoon finely chopped chives
1 tablespoon finely chopped dill
dill leaves for garnish

1. Make crostini: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Arrange bread slices in one layer on baking sheets. Brush bread slices on both sides with extra virgin olive oil. Sprinkle with a bit of salt and pepper. Bake for about 15 minutes, until golden brown. Rub toasts with garlic clove.

2. Make ricotta-radish topping: In a bowl, finely shred 6 radishes, and squeeze out as much liquid as you can from the pulp. In another bowl, stir together ricotta and goat cheese. Add lemon juice, zest, and herbs. Stir in grated radishes and salt and pepper to taste. Radish mixture can be made one day ahead, covered, and chilled.

3. Assemble crostini: Just before serving, spread radish mixture on toasts. Thinly slice remaining radishes with a mandolin (or, if you have better knife skills than me, by hand). Arrange a few radish slices on top of each crostini. Drizzle a bit of olive oil onto each one, and top with a small piece of dill. Sprinkle with coarse salt.


Mango-Cucumber Gazpacho with Harissa-Glazed Shrimp
Serves 6 as an appetizer, 4 as main course.

Ripe mangoes have been plentiful and cheap for the last month or so. For this recipe, I took bits and pieces from two other recent mango success stories: grilled salmon with mango salsa and mango ice cream. The salmon dish had won me over with its sweet-fruit and sweet-fish combination and its zip of cilantro and lime. The ice cream had reminded me that mangoes manage to be both refreshing and creamy. I tossed those qualities into a food processor, blended, and ladled into bowls. The result: Mango-Cucumber Gazpacho. This is a sweet gazpacho, best enjoyed is small portions with a glass of Prosecco on the back patio.

As for the shrimp: I recently discovered the marinating potential of harissa, a Tunisian smoked-chili paste made with garlic and cumin. It's good on baby back ribs, better on grilled shrimp. As for color and texture, you can't beat fiery-orange shrimp floating on a pool of neon-green gazpacho.


for gazpacho:
4 ripe mangoes, peeled and pitted
2 cucumbers, peeled and seeded
1/2 green pepper, seeds removed
1 medium jalapeno, with seeds and ribs
1 teaspoon lime zest
juice of 1 lime
1/2 cup orange juice
1 cup chicken stock, vegetable stock, or water
1/2 cup finely chopped cilantro, divided
1 teaspoon coarse salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil

for shrimp:
2-3 large shrimp per person, shelled and deveined
1/4 cup harissa
1/4 cup molasses
1/4 cup soy sauce
2 tablespoons maple syrup
1 teaspoon fresh black pepper

1. Make marinade for shrimp: Mix harissa, molasses, soy sauce, maple syrup. and black pepper in a medium bowl. Add shrimp. Cover, and refrigerate for 1-2 hours.

2. Make gazpacho: Puree mango, cucumber, jalapeno and green peppers, lime zest and juice in food processor or blender. Add orange juice, stock (or water), 1/4 cup cilantro, salt, and pepper and puree until combined. With machine running, add olive oil in a steady stream and blend until emulsified. Thin with additional stock (or water) to reach desired consistency.

3. Grill shrimp: Heat a grill to high. Remove shrimp from marinade, allowing excess to drip off. Discard remaining marinade. Grill shrimp, turning once, just until cooked through, about 2 minutes per side.

4. Assemble: Ladle gazpacho into bowls, top with 2-3 shrimp, and garnish with remaining 1/4 cup cilantro.

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Color Rescued: Fresh Spinach Linguine

A week or so back, I took a few revelations I received while preparing for a dinner party and applied them to my continuing efforts to speak coherently in response to the question, "So, what do you cook?" Thanks are in order to those of you who left comments encouraging me to consider my working response--"I cook colors"--as something more than a cop-out. The human appetite, you told me, will seek out foods of a certain hue in order to insure that certain vitamin and mineral needs be satisfied. Turns out my cooking philosophy is less neurosis and more science than I had imagined. A recent celebrity diet trend (the mononymous 80's singer, Tiffany, is a devotee) promises dramatic weight loss to those poor souls who swear off all white foods in favor of the color spectrum. It's sad to think that Tiffany never gets to enjoy the healthy pleasures of egg-white omelets or bowls of whipped cauliflower, but I can imagine how such a diet might work.

There is an entire niche of diet books dedicated to eating by color. Although I feel like bursting into tears at the prospect of giving up white foods ["Hello, my name is Sarah, and I am addicted to bread"], there is something to the idea that color is good for you. The more colorful the food--as long as it has not been doused with artificial coloring--the fresher, less processed, more nutritious, and flavorful it will be.

It was in a moment of color-earnestness that I decided to make my own fresh spinach pasta for a recent dinner party. Sure, the radish crostini and mango-cucumber gazpacho promised color enough, but I had been wooed by a series of photographs that accompanied an article in Martha Stewart's May issue of Living called "Pasta Outside the Box." Beet pasta, yellow pepper pasta, carrot pasta, spinach pasta: so easy to make, Ms. Stewart promised, and so colorful. If I could make simple, blandly-hued egg pasta, I could make exotic jewel-toned vegetable pasta...right?

It was the hottest day yet this summer, and there I was, roasting beets for beet linguine at 375 degrees for nearly two hours. I peeled them, processed them, mixed in a few eggs, and kneaded in flour. The resulting blob was satisfyingly neon-pink, but its texture was nothing like pasta dough. Gummy, gooey, one heaping tablespoon of flour added after another. Too many beets, I think. So, I gritted my teeth, tossed the blob into the trash, wiped the sweat from my brow, and steamed some spinach. Plan B: spinach linguine. Green would be the new pink.

I'm not sure what went wrong. I blame it on the weather, but it could have been my increasingly dampened attitude. The dough came together nicely. It rolled out nicely, too. Wary of the humidity, I draped the sheets of dough over a clothes-drying rack to let them firm up a bit before cutting them. When I took this picture, I was still happy:


After this picture was taken, everything started to fall apart. The pasta cutter failed to separate the sheets into strands of linguine. I tried to tease apart the individual strands of pasta following the indentations made by the cutter as the dough stretched and expanded in my hot hands. I kept at it, though, tossing the deformed strands in flour and leaving them to "dry" a bit on baking sheets. Instead of drying, they started to stick to each other. I left off my efforts to cut the dough, and set to teasing apart once again the strands which had now gathered themselves into a gummy green nest. No use. I started to cry a little.

Patrick wandered into the kitchen just as I was about to chuck the whole batch. Mesmerized by the color, I think, he blocked my path to the trashcan. Then, I (grumpy) and he (ever optimistic) commenced to re-knead the tangled masses into workable dough, run them through the pasta roller, and cut them once again into linguine. Drier by this point, the dough separated more easily, but we hung it to dry a bit longer just to keep the stands from sticking to each other. When I took this picture, I was cranky, but hopeful:


When I went to remove the linguine from the rack, they were so dry that they broke into pieces. I would have started to cry a little again, but I had, by this point, sent Patrick out to buy some fresh pasta. Plan C: Whole Foods Egg Pasta. He wouldn't leave before I promised to freeze the fruits of our labor. Dinner was nice, and colorful enough, even with hum-drum pale-yellow pasta. A few nights later, Patrick and I sat down to what he, who is prone to superlatives, called "the best pasta ever."


The pasta was good...not, to my mind, the "best ever," but satisfying in the way that hard-won meals tend to be, and certainly aesthetically pleasing. This stuff is green. And, in this case, the color packs a nutrition-punch. With almost a pound of spinach in it, this pasta is half salad. That means, Tiffany, this pasta is a safe food. I'm inclined to think that Patrick's exuberant praise came from his personal investment in the meal. Food tastes better, I think, when you've been exposed to the intricacies of its production.

Once you have the pasta, this particular dish is easy and fast. Have everything chopped in advance so that your cooked pasta doesn't sit around getting soggy. Fresh tomatoes would be nice, too. I happened to have some good sun-dried ones. If your mozzarella is packaged in liquid, squeeze out the excess with paper towels before you chop it. Otherwise, it will leak unattractively onto your pasta.

Fresh (Spinach) Linguine with Sun-Dried Tomatoes and Pan-Roasted Garlic
Serves 4.

1 pound fresh (spinach) linguine: I'm still in search of the best recipe. You can find Ms. Stewart's recipe here. Williams-Sonoma gives an online version here. You can sometimes find fresh spinach pasta at Whole Foods. You can also substitute any fresh pasta, homemade or store bought.

Coarse salt and fresh ground pepper
8 cloves garlic, cut into quarters
1 cup extra virgin olive oil, plus some for drizzling
1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes packed in oil, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup fresh mozzarella, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, torn
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest

1. Over high heat, bring large pot of salted water to boil for pasta.

2. Meanwhile, heat olive oil over medium-low heat in a small skillet. Add garlic, and roast, stirring occasionally, until soft and golden brown, about 10 minutes.

3. Cook pasta in salted water until just tender, stirring occasionally, about 3 minutes.

4. Reserve 1/2 cup pasta water. Drain pasta and return to pot.

5. Add garlic, oil, and reserved water to pasta. Using tongs, toss until excess liquid is absorbed, about 1 minute. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

6. Divide pasta among 4 plates. Top with sun-dried tomatoes, mozzarella, basil, and lemon zest. Drizzle with a bit of olive oil, and serve.

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Peas for Picky Eaters

I won't mince words: Picky eaters make me cranky. By picky eaters, I don't mean those who refuse certain foods because of shellfish allergies, lactose intolerance, or ethical vegetarianism. I mean those who won't eat raw fruit, or soft cheeses, or meat when it's on the bone. When I feel this crankiness setting in, I imagine my picky interlocutor demanding, "What's it to you?" Noting to myself the lack of an answer to that question, I smile politely as my lunch companion systematically picks every bit of tomato and green pepper out of her salad.

I know that there are certain tastes and textures more challenging to appreciate than others. The chalkiness of liver. The burn of wasabi. The bitterness of salt-cured olives. Let's say you've sampled brussels sprouts on three separate occasions, each time prepared differently by different people, and each time struggled to get them down. I won't fault you for refusing them the fourth time. But if you're a thirty-something adult who has never, at least to his knowledge, eaten a raw apple because of its <shiver at the thought> "crunchiness," you will likely make me cranky. It so happens that I am married to just such a man, who, in addition to several other fruits, cannot bring himself to eat anything white, cold, and non-sweet. (Vanilla ice cream: Good. Sour Cream: Very bad).

My marriage survives when I remind myself that I wasn't always such an omnivore. My parents endlessly find occasion to recount a certain mantra I adopted as a five-year old:

"I don't like meat. I don't like onions [pronounced ongyons]. I don't like to go to bed early. I'm just a different person."

Considering that two-thirds of this first effort to articulate my own identity as an autonomous person centered on my own food pickiness, I should really be more tolerant. I remember fishing cooked onions out of spaghetti sauces and soups...not an easy task, considering that they're virtually transparent. I wrinkled my nose at slabs of meat, unless doused with copious amounts of Worcestershire sauce and--I can't explain this one--sprinkled with Butter Buds (a butter-flavored powder that came in a shaker). I was also a child insomniac, hence the abhorrence of bed time, but that subject is beyond the realm of food neuroses.

I also hated peas. In my defense, many children do, and it's understandable, considering that they almost always emerge from a can. My mom didn't serve peas enough for them to feature on my short list of abject food, but I do recall, having been forbidden to leave the table while my peas went untouched, swallowing the little green pills whole among gulps of milk.

It wasn't until the summer of 2002 that this pea-aversion was overturned. Shopping for produce in Rome's Campo de Fiori isn't easy for a sometimes shy newlywed who knows practically no Italian. I pointed and nodded and smiled and went home laden with vegetables in strange quantities. One evening, I found myself toting home a small bag of pea pods. I wasn't even sure what to do with them, they seemed so different from the peas I had pushed around on my plate as a child. In the end, I didn't do anything with them, but munched them raw, plucked straight from the pod.

I emitted a little squeal when I saw that my most recent Kretschmann's farm box contained a bag full of peas. As soon as I got them home, I started shelling, mulling over possible preparations and munching a pea from every third or fourth pod. What I came up with is really too simple to be called a recipe, and that's precisely why I knew it wouldn't do me or my peas wrong. Sauteed in olive oil for a few quick minutes, these peas don't forsake their fresh, grassy crunch. Add a green onion or two, a splash of lemon juice, a few shavings of parmesan, some torn basil, and a generous pinch of salt and pepper. What you get is a bowl of peas that do not in any way resemble their canned or frozen kin. These are peas for pea-haters. I could have easily eaten the whole lot myself, but Patrick, who had never tried sauteed fresh peas, demanded his fair half. Picky eaters unite.

Fresh Peas with Green Onions and Basil
Serves 2 as a side dish, or as a light lunch.


2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 1/2 cups fresh shelled peas
2 green onions, white and light green parts, chopped into 1/4 inch pieces
a pinch of dried pepper flakes
1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/4 cup basil leaves, torn into pieces
parmesan cheese, shaved with a vegetable peeler
coarse salt and fresh ground pepper

Have all of your ingredients ready when you start...everything comes together fast, and you don't want to overcook your peas.

1. In a medium skillet, heat olive oil and pepper flakes over medium heat.
2. Add peas and cook, stirring, for about 2 minutes.
3. Add chopped green onions and cook, stirring, for an additional 2 minutes.
4. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Add lemon juice and basil. Remove from heat, and stir to combine.
5. Divide between two bowls. Top with shaved parmesan cheese, and serve.

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A Salad, Medium Rare

Grilling season is finally upon us here in Pittsburgh. Come six o'clock, the smell of burgers drifts from the backyard of one neighbor or another. I ask Patrick to fire up the old grill. It's then that a certain twinkle appears in his eye and he begins rummaging around in the fridge for a celebratory Dogfish Head IPA. Then I hand him a platter full of romaine lettuce. He looks momentarily confused, and then it dawns on him. Sigh. Another night of grilling leaves. "Medium rare, I guess," he says to no one in particular as he heads out into the burger-perfumed air.

During our vacation to Atlantic Beach, we stayed in a room equipped with a TV (!), a TV which broadcast the Food Channel (!!). While Patrick trudged through a thick social history on the deck, I watched Giada De Larentiis grill up some heads of lettuce, and I don't think anything other than romaine has touched our grill since then.

It may be grilling season, but it is also the season of salads, hearty salads that can pass for more than a side dish. This salad's smoky greens and pungent dressing do the job. The romaine wilts slightly, but becomes crunchy around its charred edges. The sun dried tomatoes and toasted pine nuts lend an Italian twist to the traditional Caesar salad formula: romaine lettuce, garlicky anchovy dressing, Parmesan cheese. Giada's recipe includes fried polenta croutons, an addition that fully Italianizes this salad, but extends its prep-time beyond the five minutes to which I am now accustomed. Generally, I dispense with croutons altogether so that Patrick and I can round out this healthy meal with an entire loaf of (curse you, no-knead) bread.


Grilled Romaine Salad with Sun Dried Tomatoes and Pine Nuts
Serves 4-6. Adapted from this Giada De Laurentiis recipe.


For dressing:
2 garlic cloves
4 anchovy fillets, chopped
1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1/2 cup olive oil
salt and freshly ground black pepper

For salad:
3 small heads (or 2 large heads) romaine lettuce, halved lengthwise
a bit of olive oil
salt and freshly ground pepper
1/2 cup drained oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, cut into thin strips
1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted
1 1/2 ounces Parmesan, thinly shaved with vegetable peeler

To make the dressing:
Finely chop the garlic and anchovies in a food processor. Blend in the lemon juice and mustard. With the machine running, gradually blend in the oil. Season the dressing, to taste, with salt and pepper.

To make the salad:
Prepare a grill (outdoor or grill pan) for high heat. Lightly brush the cut sides of romaine with a bit of olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Grill the lettuce until lightly charred, about 2 minutes per side. Cut the lettuce into bite-size pieces.
On a serving platter, mound the grilled chopped lettuce. Scatter over the sun-dried tomatoes and pine nuts. Drizzle with enough dressing to evenly coat. Add Parmesan and serve immediately. Pass around extra dressing.

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