Saturday, June 17, 2023

Guest Writer: Pizza, the magnificent

 Pizza, the magnificent amalgamation of dough, tomato, and cheese, is a culinary masterpiece that knows no boundaries. Geography adds its own twist to this simple delight (we’ll get to water in just a second), with variations like garlic, prosciutto, and oregano enticing taste buds. From the pH of water used in dough fermentation to deciding between plum tomatoes and San Marzano, and determining which mozzarella, Vannulo versus Bufala, the quest for the ultimate pizza can become scientific. There is a rumor that Arizona holds the key to engineering the pinnacle of pizza perfection.

The battle of the pizzas, a never-ending quest that stirs the souls and stomachs of food lovers everywhere. It’s a battle where graves do not hold the fallen warriors, leaving us clueless about the victors and the fallen soldiers who sacrificed their taste buds along the way. But fear not, for I am ready to embark on this journey, ready to taste Valhalla at the end if need be.

There are two major contenders in this perceived clash: NYC and Italy, the birthplace of pizza. Well, actually… some anthropologists suggests that China is where the holy trinity of dough, tomato, and cheese may have first united. It’s tricky and this topic deserves a separate essay. Did Marco Polo bring over this ingenious creation, or was mozzarella which was known to exist in the 5th century BC in Italy give way to the pizza origins? Let’s set historical accuracy aside for a moment and focus on Italy’s proud proclamation as the birthplace and perfectionist of pizza. This reputation has been undeservedly given to them, for other countries, rightfully influenced by Italy, have elevated the pizza above and beyond the “Italy pizzas”. It’s a shame, really, that people don't give credit where it’s due. Italy may have set the stage, but others deserve the spotlight.

NYC, where the influence of Italian immigration in the 1800s brought forth the pizza. The secret ingredient? Perhaps the mystical waters of the Hudson River, with its pH levels between 7 and 8, that make NYC pizza shine. The Neapolitan style may be well-known, but the locals have crafted their own masterpiece: the legendary NY style pizza, featuring that dry mozzarella. Bite into a slice on a hot summer day (no fork required Italy!), and you’ll find yourself in pizza heaven. By New York standards that means enjoying your slice on a stoop without someone taking a leak nearby.

But I digress, my fellow apes. Actually, let me digress some more. Let's take a step back and appreciate the true heroes behind the evolution of pizza: the immigrants. Not only the Italians who flocked to the Tri-state areas in the 1800s to carve out their economic foothold, but also the present-day kitchen warriors hailing from Central America and India. These talented people have mastered the art of balancing spices and herbs, discovering the perfect water-to-dough ratio, and finding the ideal placement for the sauce (near the crust, like the wet sand during high tide). They have built upon an already great dish and elevated it to new heights.

Now, let's delve into the controversial realm of comparison. Some may argue that such comparisons are unfair, that we should embrace each pizza for its unique qualities. After all, pizzas have a way of reflecting the culture, geography, and the people who create them. No! It’s high time we address the elephant in the room: Italian pizza is far from flawless, while the pizzas of NYC is supreme. The notion that Italy is the ultimate symbol of pizza needs to be cast aside.

 

You see, the immigrant influence on NYC pizza has shaped it into a masterpiece. It embodies the fusion of cultures, the amalgamation of flavors, and the melting pot of culinary techniques. It’s a beautiful symphony of traditions and innovations that deliver pizza perfection on every corner. Pizza in Italy is undeniably delicious, and its rich history deserves our utmost respect. It’s no secret that wars have been waged (from what I’ve heard) and families divided (from what I’ve witnessed) over this magnificent creation. However, amidst these battles, there is a victory that often goes unrecognized—the fact that NYC pizza reigns supreme over its Italian counterpart. While I can’t pinpoint the exact moment this shift occurred, it’s safe to say that for at least three decades, NYC has claimed the throne. Italy, of course, still holds a prominent spot in the pizza hall of fame, occupying I would say 75% of that wall. But when we discuss the best pizza of all time, we must dedicate the remaining space to NYC, and perhaps other exceptional cities or countries (I have to try that Arizona pizza).

Think of Italy as the Muhammed Ali of pizza. It has solidified its place in history, known for legendary battles like the Fight of the Century (pizza marinara), the Thrilla in Manila (pizza margherita), and the Rumble in the Jungle (Pizza al taglio). However, if we were to compile a list of the top ten current fighters, Ali might rank seventh. Now, this may ruffle the feathers of boxing enthusiasts. We tend to idolize the legends of the past. Babe Ruth, Michael Jordan, Diego Maradona will always be the best. However, today’s athletes have the advantage of cutting-edge technologies (steroids), advanced nutrition, top-notch trainers, and more. We often engage in hypothetical matchups, imagining fighters in simulated environments. How would Mike Tyson fare against Ali in the Thrilla in Manila? If Deontay Wilder replaced Henry Cooper, would Ali still have emerged victorious? If Ali had access to all these resources, he would undoubtedly be considered the greatest fighter of all time. Unfortunately, these factors would have tilted the odds away from Ali. Similarly, while Italian pizza has the luxury of “being the first” on its side (again, still debatable), its inclination to remain traditional has solidified its place as the "Ali" of pizza.

We can admire it, appreciate its authenticity, but deep down, we all know that pizzas elsewhere surpass its glory. The truth is, the crust can sometimes be a bit sloppy, and the cheese tends to steal the spotlight, overshadowing the importance of the tomato sauce. That actually might be a good thing because the tomato sauce can be bright in flavor, even a tad acidic. Italians, with their archaic habits of eating pizza with fork and knives, serve as a constant reminder of their unwavering attachment to tradition. But fear not, for NYC pizza has triumphed in creating a crust so crispy, utensils are rendered unnecessary. The way the dry mozzarella is scattered across the dough is almost symbolic of the uneven distribution of wealth in our society. But here's the twist—unlike the systemic inequalities we face, this uneven spread of cheese on a pizza actually brings about a positive outcome. The sauce takes center stage, commanding attention with its vibrant presence. Yet, it gracefully dances in a delicate balance with the cheese and dough, never overpowering or outshining its counterparts. It leads the ensemble, but with a harmonious collaboration that ensures each ingredient's unique contribution shines through. It’s a testament to the evolution and innovation that has taken place in NYC, transforming pizza into a hand-held delight that can be devoured on the go. So let us celebrate the timeless beauty of Italian pizza while embracing the superiority of NYC's crispy, foldable slices. The pizza battle is done, and one thing is for sure—NYC has emerged victorious!



___________

Written by Adolfo Cuevas

Tuesday, December 7, 2021

Happy Birthday, Bubba - Eggplant Parmigiana

 My big brother's birthday is coming up - December 20th. He will be 39, and damn he is getting old. His birthday request this year was to share a meal with his family of our mutual favorite dish, eggplant parmigiana and asked for the family recipe. 

 In my mere 31 years (compared to his ancient 39), I have learned a thing or two about life. Most importantly, I have learned the delicious family secret, the prized heirloom eggplant parmigiana recipe passed down from our beloved Nana (Teresa Macaruso). 

 Well, I am not certain if I know her exact recipe - you see I only got to taste her eggplant parmigiana ONCE. I gobbled it all up in the airport around age 13 when I was headed back home to Texas. You better believe I have never forgotten how incredible that dish was. It was life changing. 

Thankfully, I learned the secret recipes from (guess who?) my uncle George, and I have made a few tweaks of my own along the way. I have not yet made an EP as perfect as the one in my memory, but this recipe does the trick. 


Ingredients:

2 large eggplants, washed, dried and sliced thin (SO THIN) 

olive oil (or grapeseed if you're trying to be light)

flour

eggs

parmigiana cheese  (grated) or pecorino romano

italian breadcrumbs  

1 jar tomato sauce, marinara (Ragu works)


Supplies:

paper towels

frying pan

tongs

casserole dish


Directions:

1. In a shallow bowl, toss some flour, salt and pepper

2. In another shallow bowl, toss the italian breadcrumbs and some parmigiana cheese, mix until blended.

3. Add a couple eggs to yet another bowl, whisk together. 

4. Slice the eggplant thin. No, thinner. Slice the eggplant SUPER thin and spread flat on paper-towel to rest and drain. 

5. Heat a large frying pan on medium heat, add a layer of olive oil until the entire pan is coated 1/4 inch of oil.

6. Dredge the eggplant in flour, coating each side lightly.

7. Dip the flour-covered, super thin, eggplant slice in the egg, coating evenly on both sides.

8. Dip the flour-covered-eggy eggplant into the breadcrumb mixture, coating evenly. 

9. Fry coated eggplants in oil, turning to crisp both sides. 

10. Remove softened, crisped eggplant slice from oil and place on paper towels to drain. Eggplant should be golden brown. Repeat process until all eggplant are cooked.

11. Cover bottom of casserole dish in 1 layer of tomato sauce, then form eggplant slices into layer covering the entire sheet. Sprinkle parmigiana, and spread another layer of sauce. Repeat until complete, covering with cheese at the end.

12. Bake casserole for ~40 minutes at 400. Allow dish to rest before serving.


If my instructions weren't very clear, this youtube video of a Italian grandpa from Turino does a great job if you need more clarification! He adds mozzarella which looks amazing. Even if you perfectly understood my instructions, I promise you will enjoy watching this. https://youtu.be/rLZsKI8dcvo


Happy birthday, Patrick!  YUM, enjoy. Send me pics, and invite me to dinner next time. Love you!


Love&Pasta,

Linda 


Thursday, April 22, 2021

Thursday ramble, pasta.

 Its been a little while since I served my last place of fresh, textured word noodles over here. Let me tell what I've been doing since.

I fell hard and fast for this blog, and all of my feelings rushed out too. Over the past year, I've been processing and unpacking a lot of complicated things. Some I felt comfortable sharing pubicly, others I kept to myelf or shared with people close to me. At times, this blog and other creative outlets have been wonderful places to process and share, or release and create. I'm so grateful to have found so many wonderful outlets and practices - I feel like whenver my creativity hits, I can be surrounded by any medium I need to play at anytime. 

now, pasta. what does this have to do with it? did you stop eating it?

absolutely not. No way. I can't stop eating pasta, I eat it like I breath air. 
After the holidays, I took a emotional tumble and nosedive. I sort of over exerted myself in the kitchen, over indulged, and needed to self isolate after the covid christmas nightmare of 2020. Holidays were a hard time for me. I'm working that out. I stopped writing, I stopped creating. 

Winter was long for me, as it was for most this year. but through that, vaccines came, and soon tulips and daffodils followed. Spring time is energizing for me. When the flowers show up, I feel lthe transformation to being surrounded by beauty and art and my mind shifts to thinking in colors and textures. From there, I felt myself become inspired to create food again, to dress in ways that feel delightful, and to share and connect.  

For easter, I made a big ball of pasta dough and shared the process of cutting the pasta with my uncle. That meal was so lovely - being together aound a table again as a family. 

This past week, I felt inspired to make my first attempt at baking home made bread. It wasn't anything special, except that I made it. and I ate it all, every last bit. I had it with butter, toasted as a crostini, and finally as the bread for a caprese sandwich. Perfect. Next time, it will be even better.

I've also been busy making sauces to compliment simple dinners. Cooking to nourish myself is such a grounding activity. Setting the table to make a meal feel special gives me a sense of creativity and culture. I love the dining experience, its like a classic dance or a trip to the symphony. 

more to come about that later. 


ciao bella,

Linda 

Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Baking my birthady cake with mom

November 28th will be my 30th birthday. This has been a big year for me, 2020 nonsense aside. This year I started opening up myself to feeling and processing my grief in a way I've never even known was possible. I've come to learn and understand that holidays, special occasions, and life events have ALWAYS been so much harder on me because of her absence. I usually tried to cope by denying and ignoring the feelings, and ended up just overwhelmed and needing to shut down in a puddle of tears. I'm learning that perhaps while I can't avoid that big emotion and puddle of tears,  I can allow it to coincide with my joy, as well. 

This year, turning 30 felt so big and important to me; entering into a decade of true adulthood and all that will come with it, seeing all of my success and achievements through my 20s, and blooming as my full self. And doing all of that, without her to stand by and say WOW Linda! What a wonderful 30 year old you have become - well that is just incredibly sad, disappointing, and sends me straight to the couch to hide in my feelings cocoon and not come out. Ha that sounds really quite silly to see it in that way,  Grief doesn't lead to logical thoughts. At least, maybe when that one person isn't around to give that kind of unconditional love and support, you really, REALLY, need it. Maybe everyone feels this? Idk

To try and help myself feel better about the limited celebrations available at this time, I came up with a big list of activities to do to be able to celebrate a little each day on my own. On the list were things like "photo shoot with Adolfo", "French night", "Run a 5K", "Family game night on zoom", "watch Grease in costume" and "bake a chocolate cake from scratch". This list helped me focus my priorities on what is fun to me, what I actually want to do, and how I feel about prioritizing just hanging out on the couch over frivolous scheduled activities, ha.
 And then, suddenly, my birthday approached and is just 4 days away. I haven't actually planned anything, I haven't gathered my people. I've just stayed in this fragile space with all of my feelings clutched to my chest extremely tightly, until I snapped and slammed a container of tomatoes all across my kitchen this morning in a big angry explosion.  This was NOT ACCORDING TO THE PLAN. 

After gathering my feelings, letting the tears fall, and finally understanding that maybe ignoring my grief on my birthday is counter-intuitive, I've decided to take another approach. I will invite my grief, my memory of my mom, and the incredible disappointment I feel about my birthday this year to join me in my kitchen on Friday November 27th and we will bake a cake together from scratch. I will read the instructions, and my mom will be there with me as I measure and mix and bake. I will create a new tradition of baking with my mom for my birthday. I remember watching old home videos of my birthdays, maybe when I was 2 and 3. My mom was right there next to me, cheering me on, helping direct me to blow out the candles on the cake. I can remember hearing her sing happy birthday to me in one of the videos, in her funny off-key scratchy voice that was so uniquely hers.  Once, (I think) she has someone bake me princess cake for a special cake tin we picked out together. Perhaps we missed out on baking and singing together for the past 25 years, but we'll start again now. 

Stay tuned for the finished Chocolate cake to come!

Love&Pasta,
Linda 





Thursday, November 19, 2020

Pasta-Piece

 I haven't been sleeping well lately, under the stress of impending doom (diagnosis) with covid and such. Additionally, our (only) bathroom is under renovations and life is all sorts of wild. These things may be blurring my better judgement...

I just came across this video challenge, thanks to good old Google:

https://artsandculture.google.com/?hl=en

Its a video showing how to make a "pasta piece" - basically making a masterpiece out of pasta. I am so so so ready to do this. Do you think anyone would mind if I called out sick from work for the rest of the week to work on this? tempting....


Final product to be shown by the end of the weekend.
Has anyone done this? Its kind of like the macaroni art we used to make in preK but better. 


Love&Pasta, 
Linda


Ps. I'm going to go to bed now. gnight 

Tuesday, November 17, 2020

Ultimate comfort food: Meatballs

 

For a few weeks I had been craving a broad, creamy noodle, and a big meaty (yet light) meatball. I made the meatballs using ground beef, ground pork, an egg, breadcrumbs, finely diced small onion, parsley, parmesan, S&P, and a bit of heavy cream. 


Next, I made a simple pasta dough with eggs and flour, and rolled out and cut by hand a beautiful thick pappardelle noodle. These will always be my favorite - there is nothing like a mouthful of pasta. Next time, I will remember to add some semolina flour to the mix - this gives the pasta a great texture and density. These were delicious and light. 




Finally, I made a simple tomato sauce with some fresh tomatoes from my fridge, garlic & onion, a 28 oz can of tomatoes in their juice, some parsley and olive oil. I cook the garlic, onion and fresh tomatoes first in oil, then add the can of tomatoes and herbs. I let this boil and then simmer for at least 45 minutes. 



Put it all together, with some garlicy green beans, parmesean and a touch of fresh parshley -- and voila! Love in the form of food. 


I love the rhythm of making a meal like this. The steps come naturally. Shaping the meatballs by hand connected me to the food, feeling it and forming it. On this day, I was processing alot of big feelings, and by the end of this cooking process, I felt like I could hold my frustration aside while enjoying nourishing myself with my favorite meal. 


I followed up reusing the leftover meatballs and sauce for a fantastic meatball grinder for lunch. It was delicious! 



Love&Pasta,

Linda 







Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Ask me about pasta and I'll tell you about grief

 The other day I was visiting with a good friend and was very excited to tell him about my new pasta blog. It seems like this blog project appeared with full force out of thin air, and with so much passion behind it - but feels like I have always done this. I have felt so energized about my cooking, writing and sharing my love for pasta, while holding tightly to the feeling that this project is weaving together the stories I have unraveled and the parts of myself that I have been healing simultaneously. In this pasta project, I am able to focus on a meal, and at the same time, process a feeling or memory and channel it into nourishment for my heart. 

My friend asked me "what does making this pasta mean to you"? He wasn't quite ready for the long winded answer I delivered, but he was along for the ride, as I hope you are, dear readers. 

In answering his question, something became crystal clear to me: Through making and celebrating pasta, I am processing my grief and trauma, and celebrating the loving memory of my late mother, grandmother, and myself. I am connecting our stories as I cook my way through the pain and heal myself with the most honest, truthful food I have ever eaten. 

After age 6, I did not grow up with many women in my life. I forgot what the attachment to my mom felt like - her hugs, her warmth and softness. I forgot what it meant to be unconditionally loved. I grew up through my kiddo, tween and teen and early adulthood years feeling this compulsive need to achieve and be good, but never feeling like I was ever enough, never feeling connected or attached. In that place of survival mode, I lived in a constant state of panic and insecurity, I never learned to recognize what I needed. While I developed an incredible tolerance for pain (hello resilience), I struggled with so many things. 

In making pasta, I am able to slow down all of it. I am able to spend time in a quiet, safe place of my own. I am able to make mistakes, practice, and get better simply for myself. I can hear my intuition tell me to add a little of this, or that instead of cooking, today I need a nap. I am able to slice onions and cry, an easy opener to let my feelings fall out and land gently on the cutting board. I am able to stir and knead and chop and move through these feelings slowly, purposefully and delicately. 

With each new recipe achieved, I feel myself connecting with the community of Italians I lost. Each time I approach my counter, I recover a lost memory; standing by my nana at her kitchen table as she rolled out crusts for apple pies, relatives passing serving dishes at the big holiday dining room dinner table, big Macaruso laughter filling the house during a game of Rummy at the dining table, and snuggling up next to my mom at the kitchen table for homemade pizza night. While I may be focusing on memories from 1994, I am also working out envisioning the kind of mother and grandmother I might be in the future, sometime in 2024 or 2064.

So essentially, for me, as it is for so many, food = family. And for me, learning to cook is learning to heal. Making pasta is making peace with my grief, and nourishing myself into the daughter/woman/nana I am choosing to become. 

I hope you enjoy this journey with me. I hope the next time you order a bowl of fresh pasta, you take a moment to remember a special meal with a loved one. I hope we can continue sharing special meals together, with special ingredients and lots of love. 


Love&Pasta,

Linda Marie, Marianne's Daughter, Teresa's Granddaughter  






Monday, November 9, 2020

Pasta, Not Perfection



Last week, I found 3 containers of various mushrooms in my fridge. My hubby had stopped by the grocery store on his way from home, apparently very hungry - and in the mood for mushrooms. He also picked up two bags of chips, as he does. 

I am not a huge fan of mushrooms, but I knew these needed to be cooked and quickly. I remembered I had a secret stash of dried Porcini mushrooms hidden in my cabinet that I found a couple weeks ago at an Italian specialty shop in Federal Hill, Providence RI - where I also found a new ravioli stamp. I knew just what to do. 


Pasta Dough: First, I started with my basic pasta dough recipe: 3 eggs, 2 cups of flour. Mix carefully into a dough, let sit for 20 minutes wrapped in plastic. Then I used my handy pasta machine to roll out sheets to form the ravioli. 

Mushroom Filling:
Start by gently cleaning the mushrooms (we used 4 oz shitake) with a damp towel, removing the stems. Chop finely. I set the dehydrated porcini mushrooms to soak in warm water for 10 minutes (make sure to reserve some of this water for flavoring the sauce later), then chop finely once soft. 

Mince 3 cloves of garlic. Chop up 1/2 of a small onion finely. In a medium frying pan, add 2 tablespoons butter. Cook the garlic and mushrooms together in a pan, add some freshly chopped parsley and cook until soft. This is called a DUXELLE

Duxelle: Duxelles is a finely chopped mixture of mushrooms or mushroom stems, onions or shallots, herbs such as thyme or parsley, and black pepper, sautéed in butter and reduced to a paste. Cream is sometimes used as well, and some recipes add a dash of madeira or sherry.

Once cooked, set the mushrooms aside to cool.

Ravioli Filling:
In a bowl, combine 1/2 cup Ricotta cheese (not too watery!), 1/4 cup fresh parmesean cheese, and 1 egg yolk. Add salt and pepper. Mix together well. Add the cooled duxelle and mix thoroughly. I like to add this mixture to a piping bag to help distribute to the raviolis (Reality check: I use a plastic sandwich bag and cut one corner, DIY piping bag). 


Making the Ravioli:

I rolled out sheets of the pasta dough, placed a small mound of mushroom mix, and covered with another sheet of pasta and press together. I used my new ravioli stamp, as well as a rolling cutter as needed to help form the shapes. This is where the lesson lies: I have yet to get the perfect ravioli shape. I often forget to flour the counter and the ravioli ends up sticking, making it hard to lift up. Or, I have over stuffed, or understuffed the ravioli, leaving me to wonder what is the perfect ratio of ravi-to-oli? I don't know yet. Regardless of my failures, I amassed a generous quantity of irregular yet lovely raviolis that were ready to cook. They sure are pretty for pictures. 

When making your ravioli collection, be sure to line them up distanced from one another. The moisture from inside the ravioli can make the dough soft and sticky - you do not want them to clump and tear before you get them into the pot. In a large pot of boiling salted water, I dropped 6-8 raviolis at a time to boil. Give your raviolis plenty of time to boil, the double layer and thicker pasta for these needs time to cook. 

Mushroom sauce:
While you are boiling your raviolis, in a sauce pan, add 3 tablespoons of butter, and a few sprinkles of flour, stirring continuously. Once melted, add some of the porcini mushroom water. This will make a beautifully fragrant sauce for your raviolis. I added some fresh oregano and more parsley for flavor, and a hint of heavy cream. and then I added more butter. yum. 

Once cooked, plate your raviolis and drizzle the mushroom butter sauce on top. Everything is perfect and not perfect and delicious. Enjoy! 


Love & Pasta,

Linda

Monday, November 2, 2020

Classic Chicken Cutlets, a timeless tradition

Pasta Lovers, 

You must really be thinking "who is this gal who says she loves pasta so much but hasn't actually posted about making pasta yet"? Well. Let me tell you - if you expect too much of me I will surely let you down. I WILL get around to making fresh pasta again soon, when it feels right. Lately I've been dreaming of a beautiful silky broad pasta sheet with a light Bolognese sauce..... for another day.







Today - we're talking about an Italian kitchen classic: simple chicken cutlets. 





As a tiny girl, this was in the fridge at my nana's house at least once a week (I think....but I can't really remember because I was so tiny and have trauma brain.) Over the past few years of learning about cooking, Adolfo and I realized we enjoyed having a bulk stash of these cutlets on hand for days and days of mix and match delicious nourishing goodness.   They go great with everything: grab some sauce and noodles, throw in some chicken. Make a fresh salad with seasonal tomatoes, top it with some sliced cutlets. Have some delicious crusty bread? Add some sliced cheese and roasted bell peppers and a cutlet and you're in business. Shall I go on? Because I could. These are the best. And budget friendly. 

I'm not going to give you measurements because I never measure these... you just do it. 

1. Get some chicken, a nice juicy chicken breast, think 1 breast = 2 servings. With a sharp knife, slice it nice and thin. If you're the real deal, you could spend some time smashing them into very nice and thin sheets. If you were a newbie like me, then you would use a mason jar and smash them really hard while thinking about all of the folks who wronged you over the past week. 
Or you could be fancy and use your a meat tenderizer tool and think about all of the goals you're going to crush in the week ahead. I think I've landed somewhere in the middle: crushing goals and smashing negativity. Most recently I did not smoosh the meat at all, I just cut it thinly, acknowledged my feelings and moved along. 


2. Get 3 large flat bowls. Fill one with plain flour, the other with breadcrumbs + chopped parsley + freshly grated parmesan cheese. I do not know how much of each, just call upon your Italian ancestors and they'll send a signal when you have enough. If you don't have any Italian ancestors, you can borrow mine, but I charge a small fee for this service. Look, you did it!

3. In another bowl, add a bunch of eggs, maybe 4? Beat them together nicely with a fork.  

4. Next, I like to line a baking sheet with some parchment paper because its about to get messy. 
Then, the steps are important: you must do this in order. Expect your hands to get very dirty. 
Take the chicken slice, toss it in the flour on both sides. 
Then dip the floured chicken into the egg. 
And THEN into the breadcrumbs. Make sure its fully coated, and then lay it on your parchment paper. 
Repeat this for all the cutlets. If you mess up, its ok. I mess up all of the time. 

5. Once you have floured+egged+crumbed your chickens, heat a frying pan to medium heat. Add some oil - we used grapeseed oil but you could use whatever you like. Cook your chicken cutlets until golden and crispy on each side. Enjoy the sizzle. 



I like to lay the cutlets on a paper towel to absorb the extra oil.  Add some salt + pepper to taste. 

I usually store them with layers of towel between the cutlets in the containers 
so they don't get mushy. We'll eat these all up in a few days. The best! This time, we paired them with sautéed rainbow chard cooked with garlic + shallots. Such a simple but balanced meal. 

 



There you have it,
Classic Chicken Cutlets! 
Cheers 




Sunday, November 1, 2020

Tuscan Farro Soup

 Hey Pasta Peeps,

A few weeks ago I made this soup and felt a part of me soften. I instantly felt gentler, comforted, and soothed. Yes - a pot of soup has that power.  


    This weekend, I have been focusing on cozy things and relaxing. I accomplished some big things last week, including starting this blog and paying off a big student loan among other big personal achievements, and knew I needed a few days of R&R to recover. It is so important that we celebrate accomplishments in big ways, but also recognize the energy needs to be balanced with restoration. 
    Additionally, on Friday we had our first wave of New England winter blanket the city in a thick creamy layer of snow, no I mean a thick cold layer of snow.  We hunkered down to watch the Queens Gambit (I highly recommend this show - I've watched it twice already) and I got to work cooking this glorious soup, also for the second time. 

This soup keeps really well, I'll continue to eat it all week for lunches and simple dinners paired with fresh green salads and maybe left over chicken cutlets. 

Zuppa di Farro (Tuscan Farro Soup) 
Recipe adapted from "Biba's Italy" book

Serving Size: 6
Cooking + prep time: 1 hour 30 minutes

Ingredients:

-1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
-3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
-1 small onion, finely minced 
-1 medium carrot, minced 
-1 celery stalk, minced 
-5 to 6 fresh sage leaves, shredded 
-1 (28 ounce) can Italian plum tomatoes, preferably San Marazno with their juices
-salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
-6 cups chicken broth or low sodium
-1 pound farro (about 2 1/2 cups) *I found a quick-cook grain from WholeFoods that doesn't need to be soaked, otherwise make sure you fully wash and soak for a few hours before using


Directions

1. Heat olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat.
2. Add the garlic, onions, carrot and celery and cook until lightly golden and soft, about 8-10 minutes.

3. Add the sage, stir for about 1 minute then add the tomatoes.
4. Season with salt and pepper and bring the sauce to a boil. Reduce heat to medium low and cook, stirring from time to time, until the sauce has thickened (about 10 minutes).
5. In a large pot, bring the broth to a boil. Add the farro.
6. When the broth returns to a boil, add the sauce to broth while stirring. Reduce heat to low, uncovered, and simmer until farro is tender and soup has thickened. 30-40 minutes. Stir occasionally. Adjust seasoning as needed.
7. Let soup sit for 15-20 minutes, serve with drizzle of olive oil and garnish with sage and crusty bread. 
*I added a little extra liquid (broth and water) at the end since the farro absorbed most of the liquid. Just make sure to reheat and stir.  



Soothing, tasty and hearty without being too heavy. Packed with fiber and veggies.  yummmmmmmm. Comment with your favorite soup recipes below. Soup season is definitely here so I'm eager to try a few more yummy soups. 


Love&Pasta,
Linda 




Thursday, October 29, 2020

Garlic and Parsley Shrimp with Bucatini pasta

 Welcome back my Pasta Pals,

What a rush posting that first blog post yesterday. I received some lovely positive feedback, and am so encouraged to keep going with this project, excited for where it may take me. Today, at work (Oh yeah - I still have a day job. I'm not a full time blogger just yet....) I discovered something fantastic: we don't always have to run away from bad situations, sometimes we can look outside for inspiration, and then bring that back to the where we currently are and transform the situation for ourselves. Hm. Food for thought. Maybe too hard to conceptualize without context, but anyway. It was a transformative feeling, for sure. 

Long days of thinking too hard should always be rewarded by big comforting mouthfuls of garlicy pasta. That's just what I did: 




What is Bucatini pasta?
This great blog post, by The Spruce Eats, gives an excellent full description: 
Bucatini (boo-kah-TEE-nee) is a type of pasta that is shaped like a long, narrow tube, resembling thick, hollow spaghetti. The pasta is traditionally produced and served in and around Rome, with the name originating from the Italian word buco, meaning “hole.” Also known as perciatelli, this pasta is boiled and served hot with tomato, meat, butter, cream, and seafood-based sauces.



I had picked up a box of this pasta a few weeks ago planning to use it to cook a pasta recipe from the
"Rome" section of Bibi's Italy book, but decided it would pair nicely (and quickly) with the garlic shrimp tonight. Plus, I really wanted a chance to experience the texture in a simple way. It was quite good. 


Garlic and Parsley Shrimp with Bucatini Pasta
Serving Size: 2
Cooking + prep time: 30 minutes

Ingredients:

-6 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
-2 cups coarsely chopped parsley
-3 servings of dried Bucatini No. 15 pasta 
-1/2 cup olive oil
-1/4 lb washed and dried shrimp
-juice of 1/2 lemon and 1/2 lime
-salt and pepper to taste

 1. Add the oil to a large saute pan. Cook the garlic until golden (don't burn it!)
2. Wash and prepare shrimp, soak for 15 minutes in fresh lime juice.
3. Add the parsley, cook until just wilted.
4. In a large pot, bring 6 cups of water to a boil, salt to taste. Cook the pasta 9-11 minutes, until al dente.
5. Drain the pasta and add directly to the garlic and parsley. Squeeze half of a lemon over pasta, and then toss until evenly distributed.
6. In small saute pan, cook shrimp on low heat until pink, salt + pepper to taste. 
7. Plate the pasta, add shrimp directly. 
Enjoy! 



Guest Writer: Pizza, the magnificent

  Pizza, the magnificent amalgamation of dough, tomato, and cheese, is a culinary masterpiece that knows no boundaries. Geography adds its o...