Garden Update + Pesto Pasta Salad

I missed an update in between, so prepare yourselves, because the garden is getting out of control!

Here's a photo from July 11:



Not too crazy, right? Lettuce is coming in, tomatoes are filling out, radishes are a little bit nuts (and were mercilessly thinned).



Because that's not how you grow radishes. Oops. Turns out if you have extra seeds, you should save them, or give them away, or even throw them away, instead of just tossing them all in the dirt and giving yourself a bunch of extra work to do thinning, and also... no mature radishes.

OK, one mature radish.



Not a totally wasted effort, however, because as it turns out, radish greens are edible and tasty! After cleaning (so thoroughly! many slugs spotted.), they are great sautéed and tossed in with scrambled eggs, pasta sauces, wherever you might use spinach or kale (although they are kind of prickly, so I wouldn't use them in salad). And I made a big batch of pesto, which made a phenomenal pasta salad! (Scroll to the bottom for recipes.)





The carrots and lettuce are playing nicely:



And here's where I start to lose my grip on the situation (from July 21):



ACK! What is even going on?! OK, a couple of things are going on. The aforementioned radish was harvested, along with most of the rest of the radish greens. We might get another few radishes. Peppers and tomatoes are going like gangbusters, loving the recent heat wave.





Basil! Threatening to go to seed. Chopped off a bunch of the tops and used 'em for dinner last night. That'll teach them to be dramatic.



And then there was the time when I almost lost my entire crop of beets to some sneaky, devious, giant weeds that took over their spot in the bed. Being still firmly in the camp of "novice gardener," I was more than a little nervous to pull out of a bunch of uniform-looking, big, healthy, pink-rooted plants that were growing where I planted beets. Are these the beets? I asked myself. Then, after remembering what fully-grown beets look like, I took a deep breath, gave myself a little pep talk (out loud: "Trust yourself!" Oh yes I did.), and pulled them ALL! And lo and behold, what should remain but two neat little rows of the saddest, most sun-starved little baby beet plants you've ever seen.



Now that I've gotten rid of their competition and thinned them out a bit, I think they'll bounce back.

I was about to thin the vining plants on the right side, started to, and then totally lost my nerve. (The beet weed episode really took it out of me!) I'm going to make sure to get a lot of advice (from my friends on youtube, and some real gardeners at the local garden center) before going back to stake, prune, and thin those bad boys. More on my findings in the next post!

Pesto can be made with basically anything dark and leafy, so I went for radish greens, which I had in abundance. Try kale, chard, collards, or stick with the classic basil. They are all delicious.

Pesto Pasta Salad

1/3 cup radish pesto (recipe follows)
1/2 pound cavatappi, or other short, dried pasta, cooked al dente, and drained
8 ounces fresh mozzarella (I used the tiny balls that come in a water-packed container)
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved
1 bell pepper, chopped
1 12-ounce jar marinated artichoke hearts, drained and chopped
olive oil
salt and pepper

Toss ingredients together in a large bowl and stir to combine, seasoning to taste with salt and pepper, and thinning the sauce as needed with olive oil. Store in the refrigerator for days of easy meals!

Radish Green Pesto

4 cups radish greens (or other greens, see head note)
1.5 cups grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
1 cup olive oil
1/2 cup walnuts
juice and zest of 1 lemon
4 cloves garlic, smashed and peeled
salt and pepper to taste

Place ingredients in a food processor, and pulse to combine, then puree until you reach your desired consistency. Enjoy!

The Comforts of Home + {Penne with Mushrooms, Asparagus, and Cream}

We were away from home visiting family in Michigan for almost a week leading up to Memorial Day. I always forget how exhausting it can be to parent on location. Maybe it's just the inflexible, hormonal pregnant lady talking, but it's hard. We have wonderful families who love us and do everything they can to help out and make sure we're happy. And we always have a great time! But by the end of a longer trip, I am just aching to sleep in my own bed, walk out onto my own street, and settle back into my own routines.



A basic and foundational part of the way I live out my vocation is the ability (and responsibility!) to feed my family three delicious, nutritious meals a day. Away from my natural habitat, or otherwise deprived of this basic task, I sometimes feel like a castaway.



When I have to forage in a foreign fridge for my sustenance and my family's, it's amazing how quickly I realize that my idea of "staples" is not the same as anyone else's. Please don't misunderstand me: I don't mean to judge other people's choices. I would never expect someone else to have a fridge stocked just like mine would be. People prioritize differently, have different preferences and needs, and buy their food accordingly. But anyone knows that opening someone else's fridge can feel like walking on a strange planet. We have the industrial food revolution to thank for this dizzying variety of possible food choices, and sometimes I wonder if we would be better off without quite so many. But I digress.

Here are some of our family's basic everyday necessities:

Coffee
Half and half (for my coffee)
Butter
Bacon
Eggs
Whole milk
Plain, full-fat yogurt
Honey and/or maple syrup
Olive oil
Onions
Garlic
Lemons
Pasta
Cheese

The fresh fruits and vegetables change from month to month as the seasons change, but we almost always have those things on hand on any given day, and we use them up quickly. What things would you add? What does your list look like?



I'm so glad that the season of deciding what to eat based on what's at the market is back. It is infinitely more fun for me to cook this way, not to mention much more fun to eat. Here's an easy dish I made for friends a couple of weeks ago, based on what I could get at the market that weekend.



Penne with Mushrooms, Asparagus, and Cream

1 pound penne
2 bunches asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1.5-inch pieces
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 yellow onion, chopped
1/2 pound cremini mushrooms, sliced
salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 package chicken sausages, split in half and sliced
3/4 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup cream
1 cup freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano cheese
zest of one lemon

Cook the penne in boiling, well-salted water. About a minute before the pasta is done, toss in the chopped asparagus. Drain and set aside, saving a bit of the starchy pasta water in case the sauce needs thinning.

In a wide, shallow saucepan or skillet, heat the oil and butter over medium heat. Add the onions and mushrooms and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and taking on an attractive brown color, about 10 minutes. Season with salt, pepper, and thyme. Add the sausages and cook about 5-6 minutes, until nicely browned on the sides.

Add the wine and scrape up all the delicious cooked-on goodies from the bottom of the pan. Cook until reduced slightly, 3-4 minutes. Add the cream and cheese, and stir to combine well. Stir in the hot pasta and asparagus, adding a splash of pasta water if the sauce seems too thick. Cook for a minute or two, tossing well to allow the sauce to thoroughly coat the pasta. Turn off the heat and stir in the lemon zest.

Serve with a simple green salad and crusty bread.

Simply Stunning Stuffed Shells

I think this is it, people. I think this is the end of the (really) cold weather. The ten-day forecast is hopeful, with highs mostly in the 40s, and one day with a predicted high of 50!! After a historically cold and snowy February, this forecast fills me with an embarrassing amount of joy.



Sometimes the idea of blogging about my faith, especially my Lenten practices feels strange to me - it feels against the spirit of Matthew 6:17 fasting, like if I bring this part of my life into a public arena, it will have less impact, make less of a difference in my life. But then as I read others' blogs, I remember why this kind of sharing is important. Bonnie wrote about her struggles through Lent, her struggle to challenge herself while also remaining realistic in the face of the everyday sacrifice of motherhood, and I felt encouraged, emboldened, and refreshed. I felt like I had a companion on the journey. Then Jenny shared a post challenging us to take a closer look at the media we consume, to really test whether it is strengthening or weakening our character, our conscience. I admire these women who are sharing their hearts, because they encourage me in my life, help me to be better, challenge me to look closer and dig deeper. I am grateful.



I guess the key is, as in all things, purity of motive. Why do I feel compelled to share? Do I want applause and accolades? To gain the admiration (and maybe even envy) of my peers? Or am I looking to pay it forward, in the hopes that something I share will encourage someone, help them to live their faith in the way so many bloggers have inspired me to live mine? The key is humility, which is so very hard to nail down, so difficult to live in reality.



I originally shared this recipe in 2011, and I've only made it a handful of times between then and now. I can't for the life of me figure out why, since it's so simple to make, and results in such a lovely, sparklingly special finished dish. Perfect for a Lenten Friday evening, or any other time when you'd rather avoid meat.



Simply Stunning Stuffed Shells
adapted from 101cookbooks

1 box jumbo dried pasta shells (you will end up with a few extra shells)
zest of 1 lemon

For the sauce:
1/3 cup olive oil
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 teaspoon kosher salt
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil

For the filling:
1 15-ounce container whole-milk ricotta
1 egg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup grated mozzarella
1/4 cup grated parmesan
1 bunch chives, minced

Put a large pot of water on to boil.  Preheat oven to 350.  Coat bottom and sides of a 9x13-inch baking dish with olive oil, and sprinkle half of lemon zest over it.

For the sauce, combine olive oil, salt, pepper flakes and garlic in a saucepan, stirring over medium heat just until fragrant, being careful not to burn.  Add tomatoes and stir until hot.  Remove from heat, stir in basil, and taste for seasonings.

For the filling, combine ricotta, egg and salt in a bowl and mix well.  Stir in mozzarella, parmesan, remaining half of lemon zest, and 3/4 of chives.  Set aside.

Cook shells in boiling, salted water until just barely done - if you overcook them, they'll fall apart when you try to stuff them.  Drain and cool slightly.

Spread 1/3 of sauce over the bottom of the pan.  Fill each shell with ricotta filling, and nestle them closely together on top of the sauce.  Spoon remaining sauce over, and then sprinkle with chives and a little bit of extra mozzarella and parmesan.  Cover with foil and bake 15 minutes, uncover and bake another 15 minutes, until cheese is melted and sauce is bubbling.  Serve with garlic bread. Or garlic knots!

Pasta Luglio

It feels like summer. Yesterday we spent the entire morning at the park and pool, and most of the afternoon in the front yard. Last night after Anne was in bed, I scooped a bowl of homemade strawberry ice cream and sat on the front stoop watching the fireflies come out. This morning, we spent a solid hour sidewalk chalking the front walkway (a beach scene!), blowing bubbles, and watching the planes fly overhead. This afternoon we walked to the park and the farmers' market. We stopped at the market for a while and listened to a woman play the accordion. Anne danced, and drank tiny sips of water out of the top of my Klean Kanteen bottle.

I tend to read mostly non-fiction: memoirs, parenting, self-help, religion. I've decided that July is the Month of the Novel, and I am doing what I can to get through as much fiction as possible this month. On the list: The Outlander by Diana Gabaldon, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, and The Godwulf Manuscript, by Robert B. Parker. I've bitten off more than I can chew, but that's not terribly surprising. The bigger your stack of books, the more books you read in the end, even if you never finish the whole thing (How could you ever finish? Have you seen a library?). What are you reading this summer? Have you seen the selections for the Well-Read Mom for this year? I am excited for that.

I'm running a half marathon next week (!), and I've run something like 170 (!!) miles in training since March. I don't particularly love the running, especially the amount of time it takes each week. I'm looking forward to crossing the finish line and getting back to more reasonable, balanced workouts. What has been amazing about this process for me has been seeing myself uncompromisingly committed to reaching my goal. I signed up for the half marathon and paid the ridiculous entry fee, I downloaded a training plan, and I have done basically every single thing on the training plan, rain or shine, in spite of other plans, fatigue, soreness, or just plain whiny laziness. I have gotten out and run my miles 3-4 times a week without fail for 4 months. I feel shocked! I guess it just goes to show you that you never stop learning things about yourself. I, apparently, am very goal-oriented, and benefit greatly from a specific schedule that I can follow. I'm excited to test this knowledge in other areas of my life.

I let Anne run around and pick things at the market for dinner tonight (her contributions: yellow squash and mushrooms), and as usual, the simplest seasonal ingredients worked their magic to form the most amazing pasta dish I've eaten in a long time. Buon appetito!




Pasta Luglio
(serves 2 for dinner, 4 as a first course)

This is a weeknight dinner, and I have a busy toddler who likes to "help," so I go as quickly as I can. This means that I do not chop everything before I start cooking. Chop one thing, toss it in. Chop another, add. Chop more, add more, etc. Cooking times between additions would honestly be something like "as long as it takes to chop half and onion." It's a very forgiving recipe, just wing it.

1/2 pound penne or other short pasta
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 yellow summer squash, quartered and sliced 1/4-inch thick
1/2 pound cremini mushrooms, sliced
1/2 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
splash of white wine
6 tablespoons tomato paste
1/2 cup grated Parmigiano Reggiano
5-6 large leaves fresh basil, shredded
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
salt and pepper to taste

Boil a pot of water for the pasta. Salt generously (it should taste like seawater), and cook the pasta about a minute shy of al dente (for penne, 9-10 minutes). Reserve about 2 cups of the starchy pasta water for the sauce (or splash it in the sauce as you're cooking the pasta, as I did - see below).

Place the olive oil in a wide, shallow saucepan over medium heat. Add the squash, season with salt and pepper, and let sit for a minute. Add the mushrooms, onions, and garlic, and cook, stirring occasionally, until vegetables are softening and pan starts to look dry. Splash with white wine and cook another minute. Add the tomato paste and stir together, splashing in enough pasta water to thin the paste into a sauce that coats the vegetables. Stir in the pasta and cook for a minute or two. Remove from heat and add grated cheese, basil, and butter. Stir until the butter and cheese are melted. Taste, adjust seasonings if needed, and serve.

Rigatoni with Butternut Squash, Brown Butter, and Sage

Since I didn't grow up Catholic, I don't have memories of fish fries, tuna noodle casseroles, or cheese pizzas on Fridays during Lent. In fact, Lent wasn't even mentioned (that I can remember) in the church I grew up in. The only hint that Easter was coming was that my sister and I got to pick out fancy new Easter dresses. Easter was no less an important feast in our home for the lack of Lenten fasting and preparation, and we have plenty of our own wonderful Easter traditions. But I have come to really love the 40 days of prayer, contemplation, and more intensive soul-sculpting we do to prepare for such an exciting day. And it's not just a spiritual benefit we gain; Lent reminds us that spring and rebirth are coming, just when we reach the most hopeless, tired part of winter and we're longing for spring. And not eating meat on Fridays gives us motivation to get creative in the kitchen!



Believe it or not, the butternut squash I used in this recipe was purchased in October, before Anne was born (in case you were wondering if hard squashes really do last all winter... apparently so!). The idea for this pasta evolved over a period of weeks, and the most interesting development happened when I started to toss the sweet roasted squash with the butter and pasta in the pan... the squash started to disintegrate! Rather than stop tossing so that the squash stayed intact, I tossed more vigorously, interested to see what would happen, splashing in a little more starchy pasta water when it got too dry, and watching in amazement as it started to resemble a cheesy sauce! Absolutely amazing.

It feels like cheating when "abstinence" from meat turns into the best meal we've had all month.



Rigatoni with Butternut Squash, Brown Butter and Sage

4-6 servings

1 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeds removed, and chopped into 1/2-inch cubes
Olive oil, salt and pepper

1 pound rigatoni
6 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons fresh chopped sage
1/3 cup toasted walnuts
Grated Parmesan cheese 

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees and line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment. In a large bowl, toss together the squash cubes, olive oil, salt and pepper, and arrange them on the prepared baking sheet. Roast for 30 minutes, tossing the squash halfway through the cooking time. Allow to cool slightly. (You can also prepare the squash up to a few days ahead of time and store in the refrigerator.)

Bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil, salt it well, and cook the rigatoni (or other short pasta with ridges) about a minute shy of al dente (you will finish it in a pan with the squash, and you don't want it to get mushy). Drain the pasta, reserving about a cup of the cooking water. Meanwhile, in a small skillet or saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat, and then continue cooking it, swirling continuously, while it fizzes and pops, and eventually begins to brown and smell nutty and utterly amazing. The whole process takes about 3-5 minutes. As soon as the butter is brown, pour it into a bowl to cool slightly, and stir in the chopped sage. Be very careful not to burn it!! Let the butter and sage mellow together while the pasta finishes cooking.

Strain the butter through a sieve, pressing the sage to release more flavor, and discard the sage. Add the butter to a large skillet over medium heat, and toss in the pasta and squash. Using tongs, gently continue tossing until the squash begins melting down and coating the noodles, splashing in more pasta water as necessary, and seasoning with more salt to taste. Some larger pieces of squash will remain. Serve with toasted walnuts and grated Parmesan cheese to sprinkle over the top.

To toast walnuts, place them in a dry skillet over medium heat and toss occasionally, until fragrant. Cool slightly and chop.

Mrs. Rossitano's Spaghetti and Meatballs

Little by little, I have somehow become a person who watches TV. It started with The Office, and then 30 Rock, and it just started snowballing. Parks and Rec, Up All Night, this new show Awake which is on right after the NBC comedies (and we haven't been able to turn off - so good!). Modern Family, Once Upon a Time, Smash! Oh, and GCB. Hi-larious. I tell myself it's OK because 1) I'm not flipping channels out of boredom and watching whatever's on, 2) I don't watch trashy reality TV (not until the Real Housewives of Disney becomes a reality, at least), and 3) I multitask. While the TV is on, I iron, I knit, I fold laundry, I flip through magazines looking for recipes. And once in a while, something happens that totally vindicates my decision to be a TV-watcher.



"This shouldn't work! How they met is disgusting! Their age difference is just weird! They shouldn't go together! But you know what else shouldn't go together? Veal, fennel, lemon, cheese and pork! that's right! Your meatballs! Lynn and Frank are just as good as your meatballs." -Liz Lemon

If you can watch that and not want to eat spaghetti and meatballs, you're a stronger person than I. So I wrote myself a little list, and the next time I was at the grocery store, I picked up ingredients to recreate Mrs. Rossitano's meatballs.



"These meatballs are good! Like, IKEA good! Is there parmesan in this? And lemon! And a little fennel?" Yes! It's all in there! And it is exactly as good as Liz Lemon makes it sound.



Mrs. Rossitano's Spaghetti and Meatballs
adapted from Cook's Illustrated



2 slices bread, torn into pieces
1/2 cup buttermilk, or 6 tablespoons plain yogurt thinned with 2 tablespoons milk
8 ounces ground pork
8 ounces ground veal
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 egg yolk
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
2 teaspoons lemon zest (from one lemon)
vegetable oil

2 tablespoons olive oil
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 28-ounce can or 1 quart tomatoes, crushed
dried or fresh basil
salt and pepper to taste

1 pound spaghetti

In a small bowl, combine bread and buttermilk. Allow to soak for 10 minutes. In a medium bowl, combine pork, veal, Parmesan, egg yolk, salt, pepper, fennel seeds and lemon zest, and the bread/buttermilk mixture. Mix with your hands until well incorporated. With wet hands to prevent sticking, gently shape into approximate 1 1/2 inch balls, about 15-20 meatballs total. Be careful not to pack them too densely. In a large skillet, heat 1/4 inch of vegetable oil over medium high heat until shimmering. Add the meatballs and cook until browned on all sides, about 10 minutes. Remove meatballs to a paper towel-lined plate and discard remaining oil.

Cook spaghetti in boiling salted water until al dente. Drain, reserving some of the starchy pasta water.

In the same pan you used for the meatballs, heat olive oil over medium heat and saute garlic until golden but not brown, about 3 minutes. Add tomatoes and simmer until sauce is thickened, about 10 minutes. Season sauce with basil, salt and pepper. Nestle meatballs in sauce and cook until heated through, about 5 minutes. Remove meatballs to a plate and cover loosely with foil to keep warm. Toss pasta with sauce in the pan, thinning sauce with pasta water if necessary. Top each serving of spaghetti with several meatballs, and serve with grated Parmesan for passing. If you're feeling fancy (or you have fresh basil on hand), garnish with basil chiffonade.

Wintry Pasta al Forno

Once in a while, if I can't get myself motivated to clean my house, I invite people over. That usually does the trick. This Sunday, I hosted a little belated birthday dinner for one of my best friends, and I tell you, it was one of the most productive weekends I've ever had. Saturday morning, our Christmas tree was still up (and fully decorated), the front porch still had colored lights on it, and all the evidence of a week in the life of a busy couple (laundry, mail, dishes) was piled everywhere. By Sunday evening, the Christmas decorations were all packed in boxes and moved to the basement, the living room furniture was rearranged, sheets, towels, clothing and dishes were clean and put away, and furniture and floors were dusted, buffed and shining. I even started working on my dastardly project of a messy second bedroom. By the time people arrived, the table was set, appetizers out, Champagne chilled, salad ready, and this delicious pasta casserole in the oven. It was a proud moment, and the beginning of a lovely evening.

I'm usually not into things called "casseroles," because in my brain that word conjures something mushy, bland, and probably drenched in canned cream of something soup. This could not be farther from that. Layers of whole wheat pasta cooked al dente, creamy fontina and tangy Parmigiano Reggiano, mustardy cabbage, and tiny purple and white potatoes. It's comforting without being heavy, and it will warm you from the inside out. This is casserole's sophisticated older sister. I hope you enjoy it!

Wintry Pasta al Forno
adapted from 101cookbooks

Use whatever noodles you like in this recipe, and whatever creamy cheese. I can imagine endless variations; my next one will certainly involve gorgonzola and rosemary.

12 ounces whole wheat fettuccine, broken into 3-inch pieces
1 pound small potatoes (I found the purple ones at Costco!)
2 medium leeks, white parts only, rinsed well and thinly sliced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 medium head of cabbage, cored and shredded
1/2 cup water
1 1/2 tablespoons (or more to taste) whole grain mustard
1 1/2 cups grated Parmigiano Reggiano
16 fresh sage leaves, slivered
4 ounces fontina or other soft, melty cheese, cut into small cubes

Cook the pasta in boiling salted water until al dente, and set aside.  Meanwhile, cover the potatoes with water, salt generously, and simmer until tender, 30-45 minutes. Drain and slice - mine were so tiny, that some of them just got cut in half. It's all good. Season with a bit of salt and set aside.

Melt the butter in a large saucepan and add the leeks.  Saute until soft, about 3 minutes, and then add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute more. Stir in the cabbage, and then the broth. Cover and cook until cabbage is tender. Remove from heat and stir in the mustard, 1/2 cup of the Parmigiano Reggiano, one teaspoon of salt, and half of the slivered sage leaves. Taste and adjust seasonings if needed. (I would happily serve this sauteed cabbage as a side dish; it's amazing on its own.)

Butter a 9x13-inch baking dish, and layer half of the noodles, then half the cabbage, potatoes, and half of the fontina and remaining Parmigiano. Repeat with remainder of ingredients, and finish by sprinkling remaining slivered sage over the top.  Bake at 400 degrees until golden and hot, about 45 minutes. Serve immediately.

The Spoils of Spring

We've been running around like little chickens with our heads cut off for the past few days.  Remember that list of goals I had last week?  I accomplished most of them, and some other ones!  We bought a couch and a TV stand.  We painted the living room.  We bought some decorative wall thingies.  Our backyard container garden is off to a great start (check out the details over on the Coppertop Garden page).  We managed to get our apartment tidy enough to show to CTG's parents, and then I cooked dinner for them!

GO ME!

Yes.  That's how awesome I am.

One of the best things about fresh local produce in the summer is how little you have to do to prepare it.  Many things are fantastic just as they come from the market - give me a ripe tomato, sliced on a plate, and I call it lunch.  Drizzle it with olive oil, and serve with fresh mozzarella and basil, and I die a happy woman.  I've made several happy meals out of a bunch of asparagus: steamed and dipped in some leftover egg salad dressing, ribboned on top of a pizza, blanched and stirred into leftover curry, fried in olive oil instead of potatoes alongside a juicy burger.

And then there's this little pasta dish I made for my in-laws on Friday night.  The one I waited three days to make, after finding the fresh peas!  I'm glad I gave it some time to solidify in my head, though.  It was worth the wait.

Spoils of Spring Pasta (Peas, Asparagus, and Mint)

16 oz. long, flat pasta (I used linguine, but I think fresh tagliatelle would be amazing)
2 T olive oil
1 T butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 bunch spring onions, white parts sliced into thin rings
2 bunches fresh asparagus, trimmed and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 cups shelled fresh peas (or frozen peas), blanched
1/3 cup fresh mint leaves, sliced into thin strips
6 oz. fresh goat cheese
salt and pepper to taste

Boil a large pot of water, salt it, and cook the pasta until 1-2 minutes from done.  Drain, reserving a cup and a half of the starchy pasta water.  Meanwhile, heat the oil and butter in a wide, deep pan, and add the onions and garlic.  Saute for 2-3 minutes, until soft.  Add peas and asparagus, stir, and add about a cup of pasta water.  Cook for a couple of minutes, until the asparagus is bright green, and then add the pasta.  I had to transfer it to the big pasta pot at this point so that I could toss it together.  Toss over low heat until the pasta has absorbed most of the sauce, adding more pasta water if it gets too thick.  Remove from heat and toss in the mint and half of the goat cheese.  Taste, and adjust seasonings.  Transfer to a large bowl, and crumble the other half of the goat cheese on top.  Garnish with sliced mint or whole mint leaves, if desired.  Serve with green salad and warm bread (I made a rosemary focaccia).

Cowboy Spaghetti

I would like to talk to you for just a moment about Rachael Ray.

I know there are people out there who can't stand her, and also people whose entire kitchens are filled with bright orange cookware.  I land somewhere in the middle.  She may not be my very favorite Food Network personality (that title is reserved for Ina Garten and her "good vanilla"), but she's also not my least favorite (Sandra Lee; what a poser).  I think she's kinda cute, with her gravelly voice and big smile, her EVOO, and the balancing act she performs when she tries to get all the ingredients for an entire meal from the fridge/cupboard to the counter in one trip.  I have two of her cookbooks, of which my standout favorite is "Express Lane Meals."  I frequently recommend this book to friends of mine who are interested in learning to cook for themselves, but who have no idea where to start.  She explains the basics of a well-stocked pantry, and how to take a recipe and spin it into several different versions.  And, you guessed it, all the meals take 30 minutes (or less) to prepare.

It may not be the fanciest or the healthiest cookbook, but it gets dinner on the table, and it helped me to master some basic skills in the kitchen.  Like the ability to look at what I have and turn it into a meal that is, 9 times out of 10, pretty darn good.  Or how to multitask so that every part of dinner gets done at the same time, and in as little time as possible.   I have to say, I like it.

I also really, really like bacon.  Anyway...

One thing I have learned in my three years (exactly!  happy anniversary to me!) of marriage is that my husband is like any other discerning customer in a restaurant (in this case, it's Chez Coppertop), in that the names of dishes matter a great deal to him.  And he is a little bit picky.  For instance, he will not eat salads.  At all.  Ever.  (We may get over this at some point, but for now, we are at an impasse.)  Once I made a salad that only had things in it that he liked (green beans, asparagus, red pepper, dressed with olive oil and fresh herbs), but I made the mistake of calling it a salad, and he didn't touch it.  I feel pretty certain that if I had said, "Here are some vegetables," he would have eaten it.  Ah well.  My mistake. 

So when I found a recipe called "Cowboy Spaghetti" in my Rachael Ray cookbook, I knew we had to give it a try.  Spaghetti, ground beef, Worcerstershire sauce (I have to sound out the spelling of that word to be able to type it - holy cow), bacon, cheddar cheese, tomatoes, garlic and (shhhh) onions.  It also calls for hot sauce, which is awesome (and I have used before), but we were all out, and it's just as good without it.

This is what we had for our first dinner in the new apartment: Cowboy Spaghetti and Prosecco in our fancy wedding flutes, out on the deck (where else?).  It was perfect.

Cowboy Spaghetti

adapted from Rachael Ray's Express Lane Meals

1/2 pound spaghetti

1 T olive oil

2 slices bacon, chopped

1/2 pound lean ground beef

1/2 medium onion, chopped

1-2 cloves garlic, chopped (or a few good shakes of garlic powder)

Ground black pepper

1 tsp. hot sauce (optional)

1 T Worcestershire sauce

1/2 14-oz can fire-roasted crushed tomatoes

1/2 cup grated Cheddar cheese

Boil a big pot of water, salt it, and cook the spaghetti al dente.  Heat a deep skillet over medium heat.  Add the olive oil and bacon, cook until it is crispy, and remove to a paper-towel-lined plate.  Drain some of the fat if necessary, leaving just enough to coat the bottom of the pan.  Add the ground beef and brown for 3-4 minutes, breaking it up with the back of a wooden spoon.  Stir in the onions and garlic.  Season with salt, pepper, Worcestershire and hot sauce, if using.  Add tomatoes and about 1/2 cup starchy pasta water, stir, and cook 5-6 minutes.  Add cooked pasta, along with more pasta water if the sauce looks really thick.  Toss to combine, and serve in shallow pasta bowls, topped with cheese and bacon.

Serves 2.



Flop.

Today's is a sad story, my friends.  The story of my first attempt at spaghetti alle vongole.
I left work in the afternoon and took the train home, dreaming of a perfect dish of pasta al dente, tossed with garlic, white wine, red pepper flakes, fresh clams and parsley.  I have been thinking about this dish for weeks: the briny taste of the clams, the subtle heat of the red pepper... a bowl of heaven with a hunk of bread and a glass of cool, crisp wine.

It was not to be.

Mistake #1: I Did Not Call Ahead.

I got home, hopped in the car and drove 20 minutes to The Fish Guy, assuming that they would have fresh clams on hand.  I walked in and scanned the cases of seafood.  Oysters.  Fillets of fish.  Lobsters.  Not a clam in sight.  I asked a gentleman behind the counter if there might be some in the back.  He walked back to check as I held my breath.  He returned with the bad news.  No clams.  "But!," he said, "We do have these frozen chopped clams! What are you making?"  "Pasta," I replied.  "Oh, then these would probably be even better!  You already came all the way out here," (how did he know?) "you might as well take these instead."

Mistake #2: I Listened To The Salesman.

Skeptical but willing to experiment, I bought the container of chopped clams, made a pitstop for parsley, and then went on my merry way home, hopeful that my dinner had not been foiled.  I pulled into a parking spot in front of my building and as I put the car in park, I heard a loud hissing sound.  I opened the car door and looked out, and sure enough, one of my tires was completely deflated.  I sighed and breathed a prayer of thanks that, if I had to get a flat, at least I was already at home.  This way, I can (almost) pretend it didn't happen and my amazing husband can fix it!  (Not that I couldn't.  I mean, theoretically I could do it... right?  But theoretically he could make dinner, and that's not happening, so... it is the way it is.  And we like it.)

Mistake #3: I Plowed Ahead With The Recipe As It Was.

I heated up the olive oil.  I added my (very) thinly sliced garlic and it toasted beautifully.  I added the crushed red pepper flakes and the wine.  And then (good grief what was I thinking?!) I just dumped in my mostly-frozen container of chopped clams and tried to defrost and cook them at the same time.  Fresh clams should take 3-6 minutes to cook, and then be removed so that they don't get overcooked and tough.  I honestly don't know what you should do with frozen chopped clams.  It seems like you can easily use canned clams for chowder (which is probably much cheaper anyway), and you definitely shouldn't do what I did with them, so... who knows?  Anyway, by the time my block o' clams was melted, the individual pieces were rubbery and inedible.  In an attempt to salvage my dinner (thank goodness I didn't have anyone else to feed), I tossed my perfectly-cooked spaghetti in the pan for a few minutes, put some in a bowl, and sat my still-hopeful self down at the table to eat.

Ew.

The pasta was actually perfect, which made me even more disappointed that I had wasted the time, money, and effort on the stupid clams.  If I had just stopped with the oil, garlic, and red pepper, I would have had a perfectly delicious and respectable meal.  Oh well.  I was able to choke down enough pasta (along with a big slice of bread and a little more wine) to fill me up, but definitely not to make me very happy.

I will not let this failure deter me!  I will have my spaghetti alle vongole!  Luckily, as I was paying for the clams, the guy said, half-jokingly, "If you don't like them, come back here and I'll give you twenty bucks." 

Oh, I'll be back.  Stay tuned for part two of the clam saga!