Simple pasta, p.14
Simple Pasta, page 14
Turn the heat to medium-low, add another splash of olive oil, if the pan is dry, add the shallot and garlic, and sauté until translucent and soft, about 2 minutes.
Add the chicken stock to the pan and deglaze, scraping up the browned bits with a wooden spoon. Add the thyme, turn the heat to low, and reduce the stock by half. Stir in the sour cream and let simmer gently.
Add half the gnocchi to the boiling water and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or according to package instructions if using store-bought. When they float to the surface, it’s a good indication they’re done. Pop one in your mouth to make sure it’s cooked through. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the cooked gnocchi into the frying pan. Repeat with the remaining gnocchi.
Stir ½ cup of the gnocchi water into the pan and toss to coat. Return most of the mushrooms to the pan along with the butter and gently toss to combine. Season with the salt and pepper.
Serve the gnocchi sprinkled with Parmigiano and garnished with the reserved mushrooms and some thyme.
Tip
Moisture is the enemy of crisp mushrooms. Don’t soak or rinse fresh mushrooms under water as they will absorb too much liquid. Instead, wipe them clean with a damp paper towel or clean dish towel.
Carbonara
I’ve had a long and complicated relationship with carbonara. I’ve committed all sorts of crimes against it. When I was thirteen, I made a version using béchamel sauce; way too thick and stodgy. By my late teens, I had graduated to using heavy cream—a lighter affair than the béchamel—an improvement but not an egg in sight. And I still hadn’t worked out the correct ratio of pasta to sauce. Eventually, I learned how to emulsify eggs, pork fat, cheese, and pasta water to create a creamy coating on the sturdy pasta. But here’s my truth, and it might be controversial: Sometimes I find carbonara too eggy. My version doesn’t go crazy on the eggs, and hopefully alleviates any fear of scrambling them. To compensate, I add a little more oil and infuse it with garlic. Okay, okay…even now, I’m not doing the “right” thing by this Roman classic, but at the end of the day, everyone finds their own carbonara.
Makes 2 servings
Fresh pasta: ½ recipe Simple Semolina Dough (this page), shaped into pici (see this page)
Store-bought pasta: 8 ounces dried bucatini or spaghetti
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4 ounces guanciale (with skin removed), pancetta, or thick-cut bacon, diced into ¼-inch cubes
2 garlic cloves, smashed
Freshly ground black pepper
2 egg yolks, at room temperature
1 cup finely grated Pecorino Romano, plus more for serving
½ teaspoon kosher salt
In a frying pan over low heat, warm the olive oil. Add the guanciale, garlic, and some cranks of pepper and sauté, stirring often, until the guanciale has rendered its fat and is crisp, 6 to 8 minutes. Remove from the heat, discard the garlic, transfer the crispy meat to a plate, and set aside. Keep the oil in the pan.
Meanwhile, bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook until al dente, about 4 minutes or a minute or two shy of the package instructions if using store-bought.
While the pasta is cooking, in a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolks and a splash of pasta water to temper them, then mix in the pecorino, salt, and more generous cranks of pepper.
Using a large spider or tongs, transfer the pasta straight into the frying pan with the reserved guanciale-garlic oil; toss well. Be sure to reserve the pasta water; this is crucial.
Off the heat, add ½ cup of the pasta water to the pasta and then the egg-cheese mixture, continuously stirring and tossing (just keep the pasta moving).
Return the pan to medium-low heat, then add another ½ cup pasta water while continuing to toss, toss, toss or stir, stir, stir until the pasta water has been absorbed and a luscious creamy sauce coats the pasta, about 3 minutes.
Serve the pasta topped with the crispy guanciale and more pepper and pecorino.
TipS
I find that carbonara is easier to execute with a smaller quantity of pasta; this is why the recipe serves just two (generously). But it can be doubled.
Use a frying pan with deep sides; it’ll give the pasta plenty of room when it’s tossed.
Carbonara is about creating an emulsion; combining fat with water for a creamy sauce. Adding the eggs off the heat, while continuously stirring or tossing, helps prevent them from getting too hot and scrambling.
Don’t rely on pre-grated cheese here; grate your own, finely, using a Microplane or the finest side of a box grater.
Gnocchi with Luxurious Pomodoro
I had my first bowl of potato gnocchi at Old Papa’s Cafe in Fremantle, Western Australia. This port town was a hub for many Italians seeking a new beginning after World War II. The café was opened in the late 1960s by a Sicilian-born emigrant who re-created the Italian alfresco street cafés of his childhood. What started as a dingy dive, where patrons gambled and sat ringside watching the occasional boxing match, turned into a beloved institution. Italians owned and ran delicatessens, greengrocers, butchers, and barbershops throughout Freo. I was a pimply teenager when we moved to the isolated west coast and I lapped up the freedom this small village enabled. When we weren’t trying to sneak into the pubs, underage, I used to meet my friends for pasta or coffee at Old Papa’s. On the blisteringly hot summer nights, they served ice-cold lemon granita that quenched our thirst while we waited for the cooling sea breeze, known as the Fremantle Doctor, to arrive. But back to the gnocchi. I can still vividly recall that very first bite. Even in the dead of summer, it hit the spot, served with a simple tomato sauce (as pictured on this page) in a hand-painted Maiolica ceramic bowl. Each table had a generous serving of grated pecorino that you could keep adding, which I did again and again, before I mourned the last gnocchi. If I can get you to make just one thing in this book, it is this recipe—it’s so simple. You’ll never tire of it. In fact, I’m betting it will become a dinner staple.
Makes 4 servings
Fresh pasta: 1 recipe Potato Gnocchi (this page)
Store-bought pasta: 1½ to 1¾ pounds potato gnocchi
1 recipe Luxurious Pomodoro in a Flash (this page), warm
Finely grated Pecorino Romano or Parmigiano-Reggiano for serving
Freshly ground black pepper
Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Add half the gnocchi and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, or according to package instructions if using store-bought. When they float to the surface, it’s a good indication they’re done. Pop one in your mouth to make sure it’s cooked through. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the cooked gnocchi into the warm sauce. Repeat with the remaining gnocchi.
Serve the gnocchi with lots of pecorino and pepper.
Cannellini, Pancetta & Lemon Pasta e Fagioli
The first time that I traveled to Florence, I ordered a soup at a restaurant near the Piazza del Duomo that was possibly the best soup I’ve ever had in my life. It was a cross between pasta e fagioli and minestrone. On the train ride to Siena, I seriously contemplated doubling back to experience it one more time. I’m not kidding. I’ve been trying to re-create that soup ever since with pancetta, cannellini beans, vegetables, chicken stock, Parmigiano-Reggiano rind, and lots of lemon. Serve this humble, soul-warming soup with garlic bread (see this page) or a crusty baguette.
Makes 6 servings
Store-bought pasta: 4 ounces any small dried pasta, such as rotelle no. 54, small shells, or ditalini
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
6 ounces pancetta, diced
2 bunches (about 1 pound) rainbow chard or spinach, stems trimmed and finely chopped, leaves coarsely chopped
2 yellow onions, finely diced
4 celery stalks, finely chopped
2 carrots, finely chopped
6 garlic cloves, finely chopped
8 sprigs thyme, stemmed
2 bay leaves
1¼ teaspoons kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 quarts chicken stock
Two 15-ounce cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
1 Parmigiano-Reggiano rind (optional), plus finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano for sprinkling
Juice of 2 lemons
In a Dutch oven or large heavy-bottomed saucepan over low heat, warm the olive oil. Add the pancetta and sauté until lightly browned, about 5 minutes. Stir in the chard stems, onions, celery, carrots, garlic, thyme, and bay leaves and season with the salt and pepper. Cook gently, stirring often, until softened but not brown, 12 to 15 minutes.
Turn the heat to medium and add the chicken stock, beans, pasta, and Parmigiano rind (if using) to the pan. Bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally, and cook until the pasta is just al dente (likely a bit longer than the package instructions because you’re simmering, not boiling, in the stock).
Discard the bay leaves and Parmigiano rind. Stir in the chard leaves until they’ve wilted. Add the lemon juice and adjust the seasoning if needed.
Serve the pasta hot and steamy with a sprinkling of more Parmigiano.
Crispy Italian Sausage & Broccolini Orecchiette
The first dinner that I had with my editor, Kelly, was at Frankies 457 Spuntino, a Brooklyn institution. It was my local Italian restaurant for over a decade. Frankies’ house-made pastas are so ridiculously good it’s torture having to decide what to order. That evening, we both ended up having cavatelli with sausage (perhaps sowing the seeds for Simple Pasta before we even knew it). Homemade orecchiette is so charming that it deserves a simple, tasty sauce such as this. Sometimes I add a whole, fresh pepperoncini chile along with the shallot for a hit of sweet heat. This one is for Kelly, who speaks the same food language as I do.
Makes 4 servings
Fresh pasta: 1 recipe Simple Semolina Dough (this page), shaped into orecchiette (see this page)
Store-bought pasta: 14 ounces dried orecchiette or cavatelli
1 bunch (about 10 ounces) broccolini
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 shallot, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
3 links (12 to 14 ounces) sweet or hot Italian sausage, casings removed
¾ cup chopped flat leaf parsley
½ teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
⅓ cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more for topping
¼ to ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
Bring two large pots of lightly salted water to a boil.
Trim the broccolini and slice the stems into ½-inch pieces, leaving at least 1 inch of the stem on every floret. Add the broccolini stems and florets to one of the pots of boiling water and blanch until crisp-tender, 2 to 3 minutes. Drain in a colander and set aside.
In a large frying pan over medium-low heat, warm the olive oil. Add the shallot and garlic and sauté for a couple of minutes. Add the sausage, turn the heat to medium-high, and cook, breaking it up into small pieces with a wooden spoon, until it’s deliciously brown and crisp, 12 to 15 minutes. Then add the broccolini and parsley, season with the salt and pepper, and stir to combine. Keep warm.
Add the orecchiette to the second pot of boiling water and cook for 3 to 4 minutes, or according to package instructions if using store-bought. Using a large spider or slotted spoon, transfer the pasta into the sausage mixture along with the butter, Parmigiano, and ¼ cup of the pasta water and toss to combine.
Serve the pasta topped with more Parmigiano and the red pepper flakes.
Tip
A farmer taught me that broccolini are sweeter during the cooler months, when they produce more sugar to protect themselves from frost. If you see purple tips on the leaves, it’s a sign you’re on to a good thing. Keep an eye out for leafy broccoli rabe, also known as rapini, or an Italian heirloom variety called Di Ciccio.
Classic Tortellini en Brodo
I promise that you’ll squeal with delight when you successfully shape your first tortellini. I tinkered around with this classic, altering both the filling and the brodo (Italian for “broth”), trying to save you time, but what I discovered is that classics are classics for a reason. Your reward comes with the love and time you put in, not with shortcuts. Learning to make brodo and shape tortellini is a life skill, and you will be so stinkin’ proud of yourself for nailing this one. I make the flavorful brodo the day before, giving it plenty of time to gently extract as much flavor as possible from the bones, veggies, and aromatics. While that’s simmering, I prepare the filling and keep it in an airtight container in the fridge overnight. The following day, when I plan to serve them, I make the pasta dough, then fill and shape the plump tortellini. This way, the pasta feels manageable, relaxed, and full of love and attention. Contrary to the stated yield, my family of four can take these all down—we have big appetites!
Makes 6 servings
Fresh pasta: 1 recipe Large-Batch Egg Dough (this page), prepared through Step 2
Store-bought pasta: Three 12-ounce packages of meat-filled tortellini (if using store-bought tortellini, either make your own brodo or buy a really great broth)
Review the techniques for filling pasta (see this page) and shaping pasta (see this page) before starting the recipe.
Brodo
2 pounds chicken bones
1 pound pork bones
1 large yellow onion, halved
1 unpeeled garlic head, halved
½ fennel bulb, chopped
3 celery stalks, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
2 bay leaves
1 Parmigiano-Reggiano rind
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
5½ quarts cold water
Filling
5 ounces boneless pork shoulder
½ teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 sprig rosemary
¾ cup dry white wine
3 ounces prosciutto, coarsely chopped
3 ounces mortadella (without nuts), coarsely chopped
1½ cups finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus more for serving
1 large egg
½ teaspoon lemon zest
⅛ teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
To make the brodo: Rinse the chicken and pork bones under cold running water.
In a large deep pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat, combine the bones, onion, garlic, fennel, celery, carrots, bay leaves, Parmigiano rind, peppercorns, and 5½ quarts water. Bring to a gentle boil, then turn the heat to low and let simmer. Try not to stir or disturb it as it simmers but skim off the impurities and fat as needed. Continue to simmer very gently, so the brodo doesn’t evaporate too much, for 4 to 5 hours. Remove from the heat, discard the bones and vegetables, and then strain through a fine-mesh sieve. Return the brodo to the pot; this is what you’ll cook your tortellini in.
To make the filling: Season the pork with the salt.
In a frying pan over medium heat, melt together the butter and olive oil. Add the rosemary and pork and sear until lightly browned on all sides, about 5 minutes total. Turn the heat to low, add the wine, and let the pork simmer, basting and rotating, until it’s tender and cooked through, about 6 minutes more (add a splash of brodo if the liquid evaporates too quickly). Remove the pan from the heat, discard the rosemary, and coarsely chop the pork.
Transfer the chopped pork and a few tablespoons of the meaty juices into a food processor and pulse a few times. Then add the chopped prosciutto and mortadella and pulse until finely ground. Add the Parmigiano, egg, lemon zest, and nutmeg and pulse just until combined into a sticky paste. If not using immediately, store, covered, in the fridge.
If using fresh pasta, roll out the dough, then cut, fill, and shape into tortellini. Place, uncovered, on the prepared baking sheet, making sure they aren’t touching.
Bring the brodo to a gentle boil over medium heat. Add half the tortellini and cook, stirring occasionally, for 3 to 4 minutes, or according to package instructions if using store-bought. Taste one to see if it’s done. Using a large spider or slotted spoon, transfer the cooked tortellini into individual bowls. Repeat with the remaining tortellini.
Once all the tortellini are cooked, add a ladleful of the warm brodo to each bowl. Serve pronto with additional Parmigiano on the side.
Tips
For the brodo, use gelatinous bones to extract a rich flavor and achieve a glassy finish. If making the brodo in advance, let cool and refrigerate it; then skim and discard any solids before reheating. If you are short on time or feel your brodo is lacking depth of flavor, lightly season with salt or—I won’t tell anyone—add some bouillon. Just keep in mind the filling in the tortellini is salty.
These tortellini are equally delicious, and quicker, served with brown butter and sage.
