Batter-Splattered

macaroni with grilled chicken salad

Well. Really, it's penne with chicken salad but I heard through the grapevine that some guy is trying to revive the word 'macaroni' and I thought I'd try it on for size, and humor him all at the same time. He's also trying to revive the 'cents' key. As in:

¢

He dreams big.

My husband and I wolfed down a big bowl of this salad. Probably because it tastes like summer, what with the grilled chicken and all the fresh and crunchy vegetables -- red onion, celery, and a red bell pepper that cost me $3.50. I'm still not convinced it was worth it. Although it was a pretty nice looking and very tasty pepper. Firm skin, for once. Usually the ones we get here in Alaska have the wrinkly skin of an 80-year old, but only on one side. The other side is smooth as a baby's butt, as if someone smeared age renewal cream with alpha-hydroxy acid on one side but not the other as an experiment to see if that hope in a bottle is really working. Why experiment with your face. Grab a pepper.

I thought for sure the husband wouldn't like it because it tasted so fresh and healthy. His tongue and the rest of his body are, as near as I can tell, allergic to nutritious food. Except for the rare dish, nutrition revolts him. Even apples would be better wrapped in bacon, in his opinion. But wait a minute. That would be my opinion too.

But wonders never cease because he had two big bowls of this, probably because it  has lots of noodles -- his word for pasta.

Pasta.

Macaroni.

Noodles.

The choices are endless.

I doubled the dressing on my version because some of the people who reviewed the original said it was a little dressing-less. I don't like dry macaroni so I decided to err on the side of wetness and double up the dressing ingredients. My version:

Penne and Grilled Chicken Salad

Serves 8 to 10

2 whole skinless boneless chicken breasts, halved (about 1 1/2 pounds)
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 pound ziti or other tubular pasta
2 large red bell peppers, cut into 1/2-inch dice
2 1/2 cups thinly sliced celery
1 red onion, chopped (about 1 1/4 cups)
1 1/4 cups Kalamata or other brine-cured black olives, pitted and sliced thin
1/4 cup minced fresh dill
6 tablespoons white-wine vinegar
4 tablespoons mayonnaise
4 tablespoons Dijon-style mustard
1 1/3 cup olive oil

In an oiled ridged grill pan heated over moderately high heat or on a rack set 4 to 6 inches over glowing coals grill the chicken breasts for 8 to 10 minutes on each side, or until they are springy to the touch, and transfer them to a dish. Sprinkle the chicken with the lemon juice and let it cool. In a kettle of boiling salted water boil the ziti until it is tender. In a colander refresh the ziti under cold water and drain it well.

In a large bowl toss together the ziti, the bell peppers, the celery, the onion, the olives, and the dill. Remove the chicken from the dish, reserving the juices, slice it thin, and add it to the ziti salad. To the juices in the dish add the vinegar, the mayonnaise, the mustard, and salt and black pepper to taste, whisk the mixture well, and add the oil in a stream, whisking until the dressing is emulsified. Add the dressing to the salad, toss the salad well, and season it with salt and black pepper. 

Moosetroganoff

If there's anything my other half loves more than red meat it's big fat noodles (culinarily-speaking, of course). I don't like to think about it but I'm pretty sure he ate five full servings of this, polishing off whatever was left in the pan after I scooped out my meager bowl-ful.

It was just that good.

I used moose for this because I'm dealing with a big freezer-ful of it and the husband swears he's bringing home another ungulate this fall so I better make some room. If you do your meat shopping at the store you can, of course, use beef.

 

Moosetroganoff

Serves six

3 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cup beef broth
1 pound of moose or beef, trimmed, sliced 1/4 inch thick across the grain, then cut into 1-inch pieces
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup thinly sliced shallot
3/4 lb cremini mushrooms, trimmed and halved (quartered if large)
3 tablespoons sour cream
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Accompaniment: buttered wide egg noodles

Melt 1 1/2 tablespoons butter in a skillet over moderate heat and whisk in flour, then cook roux, whisking constantly, 2 minutes. Add one cup of broth (reserve the rest for later) in a slow stream, whisking constantly, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, whisking occasionally, 3 minutes. Pour into a bowl, scraping pan clean, and keep warm.

Pat beef dry and season well with salt and pepper. Heat 1 tablespoon butter with 1 tablespoon oil in skillet over moderately high heat until foam subsides. Sauté beef in two batches until browned but still pink inside, about 1 minute. Transfer to a plate with a slotted spoon.

Heat remaining tablespoon butter with remaining tablespoon oil in same skillet over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking, then sauté shallot, stirring occasionally, until golden brown, about 3 minutes. Add mushrooms and sauté, stirring occasionally, until liquid mushrooms give off is evaporated and mushrooms are browned, about 8 to 10 minutes. Return meat with its juices to skillet and stir to combine, then transfer to a platter.

Whisk sour cream into the sauce, then whisk in the mustard, dill, salt, and pepper. Pour sauce over beef and reheat, slowly adding more broth if you wish to make it a little saucier.

Serve over buttered egg noodles..

  

Penne Primavera

I had some really good-looking organic green beans, asparagus, tomatoes, broccoli, and fresh basil and parsley loitering in my fridge drawer, just waiting for their moment to shine, waiting patiently but threatening to turn brown if I didn't snap to it.

I needed to use up everything at once and so I struck on the idea of a pasta primavera, one of my favority spring things to eat. And so I found this recipe, which looked absolutely wonderful and so I tailored it to what I had on hand. The recipe instructions were a little more complicated than what I had in mind so I simplified things a bit. The other cooks who rated the recipe agreed, complaining that it dirtied up way too many pots and pans. I hate that, don't you?

Turns out I had to toss the asparagus (oh, the guilt!).

But the results were pretty good anyway. It was just what I was hungering for. Just the list of ingredients makes my mouth water: all those vegetables and fresh herbs, garlic, hot pepper flakes, balsamic vinegar, lemon zest, and fresh parmesan. I didn't have any morels (boo hoo!) but if you do, be sure to add the morel step in the original recipe linked to above.

Here's my version of the recipe.

Penne Primavera

Serves six

Three cups or so of assorted green vegetables -- asparagus and fresh green beans (trimmed and snapped into 1-inch pieces), frozen or fresh peas, broccoli (chopped into small bits), etc.

3 cloves garlic, minced

Rounded 1/2 t dried hot red pepper flakes

2 T extra virgin olive oil

1 1/2 pints grape tomatoes

1 T balsamic vinegar

3 T water

1 lb. pasta -- your choice

1/2 stick unsalted butter

2/3 c heavy cream

1 t finely grated lemon zest

1 c freshly grated parmesan

1/4 c finely chopped fresh parsley

1/4 c finely chopped fresh basil

Cook green vegetables in a big pot of boiling salted water for about 3 minutes until just tender. Remove with a slotted spoon to a colander (reserving hot water in the pot) and run cold water over the vegetables.

Cook garlic and hot pepper flakes in oil in a heavy skillet over medium-low heat, stirring, just until garlic is fragrant, about 1 minute. Add tomatoes and simmer, stirring occasionally, until tomatoes are softened, about 3 minutes. Add vinegar and water and simmer, stirring occasionally, until sauce is thickened, 3 to 4 minutes.

While tomatoes are cooking, return water in pot to a boil and cook pasta till al dente. Drain in a colander.

Immediately add butter, cream, and zest to empty pasta pot and simmer gently, about 2 minutes. Stir in cheese and add pasta, tossing to coat. Add green vegetables, parsley, basil, and salt and pepper to taste and toss gently to combine.

Serve topped with tomatoes and parmesan shavings.

White Lasagna

Those are lasagna noodles. More on them later...

... because look how big Sadie is now!

She's looking more and more like a dog and less and less like a puppy with each passing day. Which means I'm stricken by puppy nostalgia. I mean, she's great and all, just like she is, but I can't help it -- I'm undeniably drawn to puppies now and their fat bald bellies and their sleepy let's-take-our-tenth-nap-of-the-day eyes. It's all I can do resist the urge to snatch them up and take them home.

In the photos above and below, she's doing our new favorite thing -- sitting in the backyard and staring at stuff. Woodpeckers. Chickadees. The woodpile. The horses in the field behind us. Bush planes flying overhead. Squirrels. A golden eagle flapping low and silent through the yard right above our heads. Chewing on sticks (her, not me -- I have yet to develop a taste for birch bark).

Now that it's finally warming up (although as you can tell from all the brown in the photos, spring has not sprung here yet), we just sit and sit and sit. Soaking up the sun. Listening to the breeze in the bare tree branches and the ravens croaking and caw-caw-ing at each other. Watching those amorous woodpeckers go at it -- there were three of them doing their dance of love on a tree branch above us this afternoon! It was a menage a trois of peckers.

{that last sentence oughta yield some interesting google search results}

The only thing we like better than sitting and staring is to take a walk in the woods on a nice, deserted trail. Birch trees. Green moss. Blue skies. Sunshine. We are nature-loving fools, she and I.

While we sat in the backyard this afternoon, let me tell you what was baking inside in the oven. A white lasagna, that's what.

It was the recipe of the day at epicurious the other day (I love that new feature of theirs) and one look at the photo was enough to convince me I needed to make it. Not only is it pretty and delicious, it also used up some rather neglected ingredients I had knocking around my kitchen.

Ingredients like shallots and marsala and white cheese -- the recipe calls for parmesan but I had a lonely chunk of gruyere so in it went. And don't tell anyone but I used sweet marsala rather than extra dry. I know -- gasp!

It all turned out fine and tasty as these photos will attest:

We ate way more of it than any two people should eat at one sitting.

My husband was all for adding some ground beef to it but I rather impatiently explained that then it wouldn't be white lasagna. But he might have been on to something. Next time I make this, I might layer in some prosciutto.

White Lasagna

(or, white lasagne with parmigiano besciamella [lasagne in bianco ], if you want to get all fancy on me)

3/4 cup minced shallots (about 6)
1 stick unsalted butter
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon grated nutmeg
3 3/4 cups whole milk
1 cup rich chicken stock or reduced-sodium chicken broth
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup dry Marsala
1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
1/4 pound grated Parmigiano-Reggiano (1 cup), divided
12 (7- by 3-inch) no-boil egg lasagne sheets

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Cook shallots in butter in a heavy medium saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 4 minutes. Add flour and cook over low heat, stirring with a wooden spoon, 3 minutes. Add nutmeg, then slowly whisk in milk and stock. Bring to a boil, whisking, then simmer, stirring occasionally, just until sauce lightly coats back of spoon, about 1 minute. Remove from heat and cool to warm, stirring occasionally. Stir in eggs, Marsala, sea salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, and 1/2 cup cheese.

Spread about 1 1/4 cups sauce over bottom of an 11- by 8-inch baking dish. Cover with a layer of 3 lasagne sheets. Repeat layering 3 more times, then top with remaining sauce and remaining 1/2 cup cheese. Bake, uncovered, until browned, 45 to 55 minutes.

Cooks' note: Sauce can be made 1 day ahead and chilled, covered (once cool).          

Sicilian Rigatoni and Sausage

Oh my god, did we ever eat good last night!

First there was a recipe for sicilian rigatoni and sausage that took so long to simmer and cook, it got me to flipping through the cookbook for a dessert recipe to fill the time. More on that dessert in a later post.

Both recipes came from a new-old favorite cookbook I've been making tons of things from these days -- Queen of the Kitchen Cookbook by illustrator Mary Engelbreit. Everything I've tried has been so good that I had to flip to the back of the book to see if Mary herself was whipping up these concoctions.

Nope. But I can see why the recipes are good stuff -- the cooks are Lori Longbotham, a former food editor at Gourmet magazine, and Miriam Rubin, whose name sounds very familiar but I can't put my finger on why.

But back to that pasta. First, you put some hot italian sausages in a skillet, prick them with a fork, and let them sizzle slowly for 25 minutes or so till they're nicely browned.

The sight of a nicely browned sausage makes me even happier than slightly crispy, thick slices of bacon.

In the same skillet (don't be shy -- use those sausage drippings), you toss in a chopped bulb of fresh fennel, some shallots, a stalk of celery, and a couple of cloves of garlic. Then some tomatoes and fresh basil and parsley. Let it simmer for 45 minutes -- this doesn't go together quick, but it is easy and the results are wonderful. When I first glanced at the recipe, it looked like it would be speedy but oh no, good things take awhile sometimes. And hey, like I said, I got an unexpected and very tasty dessert out of the deal. In my kitchen, cooking boredom often leads to a baking solution for said boredom.

I love the way rigatoni noodles plump up big and fat when they're finished boiling. Here's the sauce after running it through a food processor:

My husband took one look at the simmering ingredients and said, "I don't think I'm gonna like that," (he hates tomatoes) and then he tried to sneak out of the kitchen carrying the plate of sausages behind his back. The dog was hoping he'd make it to the living room but I'm on to that man's tricks.

And as is so often the case, he was wrong because he polished off half a skillet of this pasta. That sauce was excellent and so fresh tasting. You can sprinkle it with the feathery fennel fronds. And speaking of leafy things, use a celery stalk with the leaves still attached if you can find such a thing -- it's getting harder and harder to find celery with the leaves still on! What's up with that? There's five different brands of celery at my grocery stores and they're all chopped off well below the leafy mark.

When it's ready to serve, sprinkle it with more cheese and garnish with the fennel fronds and sprigs of basil. I think this would be so pretty to serve to guests -- imagine bringing it to the table in a big old pasta bowl. You'd be sure to get some oo's and ah's.

Here's my version of the recipe:

Sicilian Rigatoni and Sausage

Serves 4 to 6

1/2 pound hot italian sausage (about three links)

2 T olive oil

1 fennel bulb, trimmed and finely chopped, feathery tops chopped and reserved

2 medium shallots or 1 onion, chopped

1 celery stalk with leaves, finely chopped

2 garlic cloves, sliced

5 medium tomatoes, chopped

1/4 c fresh basil, chopped, plus a few small sprigs for garnish

1/4 c fresh parsely, chopped

2 T tomato paste, divided

1/2 c chicken broth

1/4 heavy cream

Salt and pepper

1/2 pound rigatoni or other large tube-shaped pasta

3/4 c grated parmesan cheese, plus additional for sprinkling on top

Prick each sausage several times with a fork. In a large skillet, heat 1 tablespoon of oil over medium heat. Cook the sausage, turning often, for about 25 minutes, or until well browned and cooked through. Remove to a plate.

Add remaining tablespoon of oil to the same skillet and add the fennel, onion or shallots, celery, and garlic and cook, stirring frequently over medium-low heat for 20 minutes, or until vegetables are very soft and lightly browned.

Add the tomatoes, basil, parsley and one tablespoon of tomato paste. Season with salt and peper to taste and cook, stirring occasionally, for 45 minutes, adding a little broth if the sauce gets too thick.

Put a large pot of salted water on to boil.

Press the sauce through a food mill set over a large saucepan, or in the alternative, blend it in a food processor or blender to your desired smoothness (I like mine a little chunky), then return it to the skillet (I like the idea of using one pan rather than dirtying up another one). Cut sausage into 1/4-inch slices and add to the sauce. Stir in the cream, the other tablespoon of tomato paste, and the rest of the broth if you still have some left. Cook over medium heat, stirring for 5 minutes, or until sauce is heated through.

Cook pasta until al dente. Drain. Toss the pasta and parmesan with the sauce in the skillet, or in a large serving bowl. Sprinkle with fennel fronds and garnish with basil sprigs. Serve alongside additional parmesan.

Let me count the ways I love this Penne Bolognese

That's what it would look like if you found yourself sealed up inside a box of penne, just in case you ever wondered.

Here's recipe number seven of my favorite recipes for this, the seventh day of November and Nablopomo. It feels like the seven days of Christmas, except this is November, not December. And I have to do thirty days worth of posts, not just seven. Just be glad you aren't listening to me sing my favorite recipes.

This is one of my favorite sorts of recipes because it calls for al-kee-holl -- red wine, to be precise -- but only a scant quarter cup of red wine, which if you do the math with me means the rest of the bottle is mine all mine.

This is my version of one of the many delicious pasta dishes served at Nino's Italian eatery in midtown Anchorage. My friend Angie got the recipe from Nino himself after she expressed her love for it. Nino also broadcasted it on the local news during a cooking show segment so I don't think he minds if I share it with you.

This is such a good recipe. It's what pasta should taste like. Alongside a nice glass of red wine, it's heavenly. It's very simple. Very tasty. It's a little tomato-y. A little creamy. But mostly it's all about the fennel seed.

This recipe smells heavenly the entire time you're cooking it, from sauteing the garlic in olive oil to stirring the cream into the sauce.

Heavenly, I tell you.

Penne Bolognese

Serves two

2 T olive oil

2 cloves garlic, minced

One large rib of celery, finely chopped

1/2 c onion, finely chopped

1 pound ground beef

1/4 c red wine

2 T fennel seed

1 T garlic powder

Salt and pepper to taste

18 oz. tomato sauce (sometimes I use a jar of marinara)

2/3 c heavy cream

12 oz. pasta

Boil penne in a pot of salted water until cooked al dente.

Cook garlic in olive oil until lightly browned then stir in celery and onion. Cook until vegetable soften then add ground beef and wine. Once all the wine has evaporated, add fennel seed, garlic powder, and salt and pepper. Saute for a few minutes. Add tomato sauce and cream. Simmer until the pasta is ready to stir in.