I’ve assembled this dish once before. That will happen sometimes, even consciously.  I remembered liking it a lot. It was as good last night as it was the first time; maybe even better, since there were no leftovers this time. We skipped a cheese course, to savor the pasta more.

It’s a rich-tasting primi or secondo, very Italian, and very simple to prepare.  As I wrote the last time, the concept of cooking a dry pasta without a pot of water seems somewhat counterintuitive (I forgot the process myself this time, and had started boiling a large pot of water before I realized my mistake), but once you’ve gone through the process, it makes perfect sense.

• inside a large non-reactive pot, briefly sautéed in 3 tablespoons of olive oil, 2 medium cloves of chopped garlic from Keith’s Farm, 2 generously-sized rosemary sprigs from Stokes Farm, and 4 rinsed and filleted salted anchovies from Buon Italia, until the anchovies had broken up, then a 16-ounce can of San Marzano tomatoes (already-chopped or whole, and ideally without basil), with the juices, added and cooked for 10 or 15 minutes, crushing with a wooden spoon if the tomatoes are whole, salt added to taste, the heat increased and a can of good chick peas, with the liquid, poured in, along with about 2 cups of good chicken broth or water, and a third sprig of rosemary, everything brought to a soft boil before half a pound of dry Afeltra Pasta di Gragnolo ‘Vesuvio’ was added (alternatively, use some other small pasta, like farfalle or a small penne or rigatoni), the heat now reduced to a healthy simmer until the pasta was cooked al dente and the broth thick, stirring frequently (this may take half an hour), adding more liquid if necessary, spooning it into bowls, drizzled with a little olive oil, and sprinkled with good grated Parmesan cheese from Buon Italia [the basic recipe for the pasta comes from food52.com, but I have annotated it here, mostly to reflect my own experience]
• the wine was a very interesting Italian (Piedmont) red, La Casaccia Monfiorenza Freisa 2012 [NOTE: appellation now only shows the 2014 on its site], which was entirely new to us
• the music was by David Matthews, “September Music” and “Symphony No.4”, from this 1991 album, streaming on Spotify; later, lingering at the table, we listened to an absolutely beautiful new (2016) piece, ‘Let Me Tell You’, by Hans Abrahamsen, sung with incredible intensity and brilliance by the amazing soprano Barbara Hannigan (here, talking about the piece with the composer and Paul Griffiths, the author of the text)

I hope I’ve never given the impression in this blog that the simpler pasta meals scattered among those which feature fish or meat are merely ‘palate cleansers’, but this meal should give the lie to any such thoughts.  Although it was almost totally an improvisation, in which I was able to take advantage of some ingredients I had on hand which I wanted to use while they were still fresh, the results were impressive, even if they might look pretty modest in any description, visual or written.

It’s a great vegetarian meal, and, had I spared the tablespoon of butter I used to brown the breadcrumbs, and instead used oil (very easily done), it would have been vegan as well.  Also very wine friendly.

I knew that I wanted to serve a pasta, but only after imagining the combination of ingredients did I realize that I had exactly the right pasta, and in exactly the right quantity, meaning a package of eight or so ounces of Afeltra ‘Vesuvio’ which I had opened a month earlier, half of its contents used for a pasta e ceci.   Any variety of this seriously-underappreciated root would do fine, but I had a bunch of tiny breakfast radishes whose greens I had included as a contorni in a meal served a few days ago, and I couldn’t imagine how I might better enjoy these micro roots.  Then there was the last of the Long Island lemon we had been enjoying for over a week, also some pea sprouts I was anxious to see used in a way which would show off both their delicate freshness and their pungency, and finally, the homemade breadcrumbs stored in the cupboard above the counter are always waiting to be a part of the right meal.

The most tedious and time-consuming assignment in the preparation of this meal was the cleaning of the dwarf radishes; everything else was a lark.

• a sauce composed of tiny breakfast radishes from Eckerton Hill Farms, cooked in a skillet in butter and olive oil until they were tender but still retained some bite, removed from the skillet and sliced cloves of tiny Rocambole garlic heads from Keith’s Farm added and heated along with a small amount of dried chili flakes, then two tablespoons of the juice of a lemon from Fantastic Gardens of Long Island introduced and heated for only a bit, that sauce then mixed with Afeltra ‘Vesuvio’ pasta cooked al dente, tossed with a handful of slightly-chopped pea sprouts from Monkshood Nursery and Gardens, mixed with lemon zest, salt and pepper, served in two shallow pasta bowls, sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs cooked earlier until golden brown
• the wine was a California (Lodi) white, F. Stephen Millier’s ‘Angel’s Reserve’ Pinot Grigio Lodi 2014, from Naked Wines
• the music was René Jacobs‘s recording of Mozart’s ‘Idomoneo’

I had picked up the last bunch, and only these four remained, loose, on the box; I should have grabbed every one, they were that delicious.

This will be the last entry until the middle of the week.  Barry and I are going to be in Philadelphia for two days, so I’m going to get to eat out!

For tonight’s secundi, we shared part of a wild salmon fillet, and a bunch of not-so-wild kale.

• wild Coho salmon fillet from Whole Foods, roasted in butter in a shallow enameled cast-iron pan (using two tablespoons of butter for about 13 ounces of salmon), seasoned, roasted for about eight minutes, turning once, after five minutes, removed to warm plates and sprinkled with salt, pepper, chopped parsley from Whole Foods, and a melange of several other fresh herbs, already chopped, which I could no longer identify tonight
• shallots from John C. Madura Farms, garlic from Samascott Orchards, and rinsed salted capers, all sautéed, in their turn, in olive oil, then joined by chopped winter kale from Rogowski Farm, which was sautéed until tender, the dish finished with salt, pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Austrian red, Stadlmann Pinot Noir 2012
• the music, spread over much of both courses, was Dvořák’s Symphony No. 7

 

We had started with a primi which was a slight alteration to small amount of the pasta left over from dinner last night.  Surprisingly, it was even more delicious the second time around.

• To the origninal pasta e ceci I added the lighter green parts of a large sheath of leek which I had sautéed until wilted, some more chicken broth, and a dusting of mixed herbs, before I again grated some parmesan cheese over the top
• the bread, to soak up the sauce, was a little bit of lightly-toasted pita left from today’s lunch
• the wine was an Italian white, Campi Flegrei La Sibilla 2013 

Yesterday I mistakenly described this meal as vegetarian, and potentially vegan (I’ve corrected the post), but I had completely forgotten about the half dozen little anchovies thrown in at the beginning of the process (a neglect which is the usual, almost sad fate of the glorious anchovy – in spite of its negative reputation with some – which is to make good things even better, ideally without being much noticed)

This dish is genuinely vegetarian, although it’s definitely not vegan.

Ah, the leek.  It seems that I’ve been building up to Saint David’s Day for weeks, although unwittingly. All those meals which boasted  baby or full-size versions of the Welsh national emblem now seem to have represented more than just gustatory delight.  It was only after I had decided this morning to sacrifice one more full-size allium sheath for our first meal of the day, and checked the date, that I remembered March 1, as the date of the 7th-century Welsh patron saint’s death, was a national feast day celebrated almost ever since.  By the way, while I was assembling this lunch Barry read to me the Wikipedia entry for the saintly monk;  I can say with some certainty that whatever his charms may have been otherwise, I would never have been seduced by his punishingly severe monastic rule, although it was one which I have to think was “More honor’d in the breach than the observance”.

The impetus for this morning’s search for a dish which would include at least one of the large leeks I still had in the crisper had been simply the desire to use my stock before we left for a short stay in Philadelphia, but we had a delicious lunch, and the recipe is definitely a keeper.

• that recipe appears here, but I took the liberty of substituting fresh tarragon for the fresh chives I no longer had on hand.  I also used six eggs rather than ten, and reduced the quantities of the other ingredients proportionately;  the potatoes I used were Yukon Gold, from Norwich Meadows Farm, the eggs were from Millport Dairy, the tarragon was from Eataly, the leek from S. & S.O. Produce Farms, and the thyme from Eataly
• the ‘bake’ was accompanied by a few toasted bread slices, cut from the heels of three different breads

Years ago Mark Bittman gathered together a list of 101 meals that could be prepared in 10 minutes or less, later edited up to 111. Two of his suggestions in particular have made regular appearances on our table since then, because not only can they be assembled in that period of time, but they’re both delicious, and both depend on ingredients I can easily keep on hand without worrying much about a spoil date.

Last night we went to the opera, and we  knew we would be back home too late to do any regular meal preparation.  It was also a cold night, so the answer was obvious.  It wouldn’t be the unheated tuna with cannellini beans and chopped red onion, but the chick pea soup, with pimentón, chorizo, garlic, and sherry.  The basic formula,which appeared in the New York Times eight years ago, was pretty minimal:

40 Put a large can of chickpeas and their liquid in a medium saucepan. Add some sherry, along with olive oil, plenty of minced garlic, smoked pimentón and chopped Spanish chorizo. Heat through.  

To that simple recipe I added, this time at least, a little of the tomato juices I had left over after using a can of very good Italian plum tomatoes in another meal, and I finished the hearty mix  with some chopped fresh parsley from Manhattan Fruit Exchange;  the excellent chorizo came from an amazing Amish family farm in rural Pennsylvania, Millport Dairy, which sells its produce in New York greenmarkets, including the one I visit regularly, in Union Square

• The wine was a Spanish red, Terra Única Tempranillo-Monastrell Valencia 2006
• the music was Dvořák’s Piano Trio No. 4 in E Minor, Op. 90, B. 166, the ‘Dumky’ Trio

Like most of the 10-Minute meal suggestions, this one almost begs for creative additions;  We’ve enjoyed it with leftover wilted kale, collards, or other greens, but I can imagine any number of other cooked vegetables working as enhancements, giving them a chance to leave the refrigerator and shine a second time.