Yesterday I are been mostly eating meatballs.

A further foray into the frozen wastes of our freezer elicited the discovery of a half pack (250g) of minced pork.  Well, it looked like pork and the label said pork, so it must have been pork?  Rather considerately, we received our vegebox yesterday, which meant that I actually had some fresh ingredients to work with.  I decided to make meatballs with red pepper and onion in a spicy tomato sauce.

 

I'm not sure why, but I do believe that this recipe works best with a "long" pasta - liguine, tagliatelle or parpadelle for example.  Naturally all our "long" pasta was depleted and I had to reach for the ever ubiquitous fusilli.  I honestly think that should there ever be nuclear Armageddon the human race will righteously be saved by fusilli.  No matter how empty your cupboard is, there will always be a half-used pack of supermarket fusilli tucked away at the back.

Meatballs with spicy tomato sauce.

•   250g of mince will eke out 9 meatballs if you are careful.  If possible a mix of  beef and pork works best.
•   Empty the minced pork into a bowl.  Season generously.
•   Finely (and I mean really fine) dice half a Romano pepper and half a small onion. Add to the bowl.
•   Add half a teaspoon of chilli powder.
•   Add a teaspoon of regular paprika.
•   A few finely chopped sprigs of thyme make a tasty addition.
•   Shape into small balls, smaller than a golf ball, but bigger than a marble.
•   Add olive oil to a large, heavy-based frying pan.  Fry the meatballs on each side.  Do not turn them too frequently.  Build up a nice caramelized crust on each side.
•   Remove from the pan.
•   Add a sliced onion and the rest of the Romano pepper, sliced into the pan.  Add some more olive oil if necessary.
•   Start to sweat the onion and peppers.
•   Chop 3 cloves of garlic.  Throw into the pan.
•   Once the ingredients in the pan are softened add a glass of decent wine.  A Chianti or a nice Primitivo would work.  Boil off the booze.
•   Add a tin of peeled plum tomatoes, a squirt of tomato puree, a squirt of Worcestershire sauce and a squirt of tabasco.
•   Add a bay leaf.  Check and correct the seasoning if necessary.
•   Add the meatballs back to the sauce.
•   Cook on a low heat for 30 minutes.
•   Serve with pasta and some cheese!

Ready, Steady, Cook!

I decided to play, "Ready, Steady, Cook!" last night.  This is a game, not unlike a Victorian parlour game, whereby one investigates the dregs remaining at the back of the fridge compartment and tries to envisage making something faintly edible.  Often I am posed with interesting culinary paradoxes like custard, sweet potatoes and partially fermenting spring onions.  Last night I was distinctly blessed with the following:

1.   Two Leeks
2.   An onion
3.   A red pepper
4.   Some garlic
5.   A tin of tomatoes (in the cupboard, not the fridge)
6.   Some fusilli
7.   Cheddar cheese.

This is what I managed to concoct:

On the first day God said, "Let there be light!", on the second day God said, "Let there be firmament!".  And there was.  On the third day He said, "Let's have a pasta bake!".  

Pasta bake is rather like martini bianco, or cherry brandy.  You left it at the back of the drinks cabinet, you got thirsty and that's all there was to drink, you drank it and then you remembered just how lovely it is. 

Veggie Pasta Bake

•   Chop your onion, your pepper and leeks into manageable chunks and add them to a pan with some olive oil on medium heat.
•   Add some garlic - about 3 or 4 cloves should be enough to eradicate the flavour of the leeks.
•   Cook until the vegetables have softened 
•   Add some red wine.  Increase the heat, boil off the booze.
•   Add the tomatoes, a squirt of tomato puree and keep the heat on to reduce.
•   Meanwhile boil some pasta.  I used fusilli last night.  Don't worry about it being al dente - you are going to obliterate it in this recipe.
•   Drain the pasta when it's ready and add to the tomato and vegetables.  Mix together.
•   Pour the contents into a decent sized, oven compatible receptacle.  
•   Sprinkle some cheese on top.
•   Cook until the top is crispy and golden, about 20 minutes @ 180C

 Tonight is the night of our monthly curry club.  We are heading out into the darkest depths of Kingston-upon-Thames to treat our tastebuds to something of a Bangladeshi nature, so no cooking for me tonight! 

Fusion!

Fusion cuisine is always something that has intrigued me.  It is not something that I have often tried my hand at, as, in my opinion it is necessary to have a very thorough and very diverse knowledge of cross-cultural cuisine.  It is something I am diligently working on, but not something I have mastered, by any means.

I can say, though, that I have eaten some really nice examples.  Peter Gordon's restaurant and tapa bar in Marylebone High Street are an excellent example of how South East Asian flavours and dishes have been fused with European (and, of course Kiwi) cooking to create a superb assemblage.  

Whenever I go out to eat I prefer to pay for something that either I cannot make myself, or do not like to cook.  The only exception to this rule are Indian restaurants, which I flock to given the slightest glint of hope.  These days I do not eat out that often, but when I do I like to ensure that I am trying something new, or eating something spectacular.  

As is quite often the case on a Sunday night, I was scrabbling around the back of the fridge trying to find something to concoct.  It's a little like playing lucky dip - without the sawdust.  I needed to make something quick and tasty.  The 4 cooking chorizo seemed to be beckoning me.  I decided to make a chorizo pasta.

I had a chat with a fellow blogger the other day regarding certain websites that promote food photography.  I am definitely of the opinion that taste should come first, and if it looks good then that's a bonus.  I do try to make my dishes look attractive, but it seems, from the above photograph, that last night I was oblivious to the streaks of orange-toned oil smeared around the rim of my bowls.  I do apologize for this temperanillo-fueled oversight.

This dish was really a subtle tweak on the carbonara recipe I made earlier.  Initially I tossed the pasta in the rendered chorizo juices, then, instead of using egg yolks I folded a little unsalted butter into the pasta to create a silky coating.  

Again, I used the tripoline pasta which yields an appetizing bite when cooked al dente.

Coal-miners pasta

Last week we had poor man's potatoes and "angry pasta", this week I thought we'd continue our trend of anthropomorphic dishes with "coal-miners pasta" - or as we know it more readily "pasta alla carbonara".

Tripoline alla carbonara

I am always on the lookout for new types of pasta to buy - one I am finding hard to source is bucatini (that's the one that is like spaghetti but has a hole (buca) running through it).  During our recent sojourn to a rather well-known supermarket I noticed "tripoline" on the shelf - a pasta I had neither heard of, or seen before.  Tripoline is a long, ribbon-like pasta, where one edge is straight and the other is ruffled.  It looked like an ideal type of pasta to try a carbonara with.

Tripoline pasta

As you may have ascertained, the word carbonara is said to have originated from the word "carbonaro", which is the Italian word for a charcoal burner.  This hearty dish of pasta, eggs, bacon and cheese was incepted to fill the depleted stomach's of the men who made the charcoal.

Carbonara was always a style of cooking that I viewed with circumspect.  The concept of cooking with raw eggs filled me with dread for many years (thank you Edwina Currie).  I have managed to conquer my fear of raw eggs in recent years and am confident I can now cook a rather delectable dish. 


In fact, carbonara is ridiculously easy to concoct - you do, however, need to keep one or two facets in check.  Your "sauce" should be silky and glistening - coating the pasta, not drowning it in raw egg.  The egg should never cook - scrambling is definitely to be avoided.  Be careful with your seasoning, as it is very easy to over-salt this dish - considering the addition of pancetta and pecorino/parmegiano.  


Here's how I make mine:

Tripoline alla Carbonara

•   Cook 5 or 6 thin slices of pancetta in a heavy base pan.  When they are beginning to crisp, remove them and shake the juices off, into the pan.
•    For two people, use 2 eggs.  Break one egg directly into a cup.  The other egg needs to have its yolk removed.  Add the yolk to the cup.  Beat the eggs together.
•   Finely grate some pecorino or parmegiano.  I guess I used about 30-40g.  
•   Salt a large pan of water, and heat it until it is rolling to a boil.
•   Add your pasta and cook until its just before al dente stage (i.e you think to yourself, "it's almost ready").
•   Drain the pasta, reserve some of the water just in case.
•   Add the drained pasta to the pan which you cooked the pancetta in.  Toss it in the bacon fat.
•   Add the beaten eggs and again, toss into the pasta.
•   Cut the pancetta into small pieces, add to the pasta and toss.
•   Add 2/3 of the cheese.  Toss in. 
•   If the pasta looks a little dry you can add a little bit of the pasta water, of if you like, you can add a further egg yolk.  The dish should not be swimming in juices!
•   Season with lots of black pepper. 
•   Serve with the remaining cheese on top. 

A rather hot affair.

My girlfriend is quite aware of it, I don't try to hide it.  I've been having a very hot affair for some time now, and I cannot stop myself.  Since the first time I ever went to SE Asia, to Malaysia, back in 2002 I have been horribly addicted to chilli's.  I eat them with everything, and if I can't get them, I douse whatever I am eating in Tabasco, or some kind of chilli sauce.

It has been scientifically proven that chilli's elicit a euphoric sensation when eaten (rather like chocolate, but a different chemical), they are addictive and, you build a resistance to them.  All in all, it sounds like many a drug you see emblazoned on the front of newspaper, headlining the next killer craze.

With this chilli addiction in mind, I like to keep a healthy stock of the fiery fruit to fuel my fixation.  Here's a lowdown on the chilli's I like to have:

Weapons of choice

So, going from top left, in clockwise rotation, you will see, lemon chilli, bhut jolokia, cherry bomb, cayenne, generic Thai red, and some kind of Mexican red chilli (I lost the label).  They each have their culinary uses, but all of them are dried.

For example, the lemon chilli I like to use in pasta, the jolokia is obviously reserved for fiery Indian dishes, and the generic red Thai chilli I impart into anything of a SE Asian nature.

I only buy fresh green chilli's, usually the birds eye, thin, finger-like ones you can get from Asian grocers.  In Indian cuisine you only ever use fresh green chilli - red chilli's are always dried.

It is possible to rehydrate these chilli's if you desire.  This can be achieved by warming up some water, not to boiling point though, just tea temperature.  Then I cut the top off the chilli to allow the water to ingress (otherwise the chilli just floats on the surface).  Put the chilli in the hot water, get the water inside it too, and try to sink it.  Leave it for at least 30 minutes, an hour if possible.  It should have regenerated some of its water content, and become plump and juicy, once more.

Yesterday we had my parents, and one of my nieces over for Easter lunch.  My father is a fussy old so and so, and doesn't like any "foreign muck".  I made him a Vlaamse stoofkarbonaden and passed it off as a Lancashire hotpot.  This neutral lunch inspired me to fire up the evening with something a bit spicy.  I plumped for a Linguine All'Arrabiata (angry linguine!):

Linguine All'Arrabiata 

•   Finely chop one onion.
•   Add a few glugs of olive oil to a heavy-based pan.
•   Medium to high heat, add the onion and cook until just coloured.
•   Add 2 cloves of minced garlic.
•   Finely dice up half a dried chilli (I used a lemon one).  Add to the pan.
•   Whizz a can of peeled plum tomatoes in a mini blender.
•   Add the tomatoes.
•   Season the sauce and keep on a medium to high heat.
•   Reduce the water content out of the sauce until it is glossy and sticky (takes about 15 minutes).
•   Cook your pasta to al dente, drain and add to the sauce.
•   Toss in the sauce.
•   Serve with finely grated parmegiano reggiano.

The wonderful world of spaghetti.

As a small child I righteously believed that spaghetti came out of small yellow cans, festooned in a sickly sweet tomato sauce.  I was also of the persuasion that spaghetti was not straight, and neither long - it was most definitely of toroidal origin.

Of course, as we all get older we find out that it is in fact grown on trees...

You might have seen one of my earlier posts talking about the compatibility of certain types of pasta, with specific sauces.  Bolognese is definitely not compatible with spaghetti (although I am very content to both make it and eat it).

One dish that certainly does marry very well with spaghetti is "Spaghetti all'amatriciana", though the Italians will tell you that really it should be made with bucatini.  I find it very difficult to find bucatini in England, so I either use spaghetti or, as in this case, linguine.

Originally this sauce, from the Lazio region uses guanciale, which is essentially a bacon, but exclusively made from pork cheeks.  This, alas is also very hard to find in England.  It is for this reason that most anglicized versions of this sauce are made either with pancetta or streaky bacon.

In essence it's very easy to make.  For authenticity you should use pecorino romano, but I didn't have any so I used the slightly more pungent parmagiano reggiano.  Here's the recipe:

•   Fry 5 or 6 pieces of thinly sliced streaky bacon, or even better if you have it, some pancetta, in a few glugs of regular olive oil.
•   When the bacon is crispy, but not frazzled remove it.
•   Add one finely chopped onion to the pan, which is now quite oily from the rendered bacon fat.  Cook the onion until it has softened.
•   Add two finely chopped cloves of garlic.  Stir in the pan and soften for 2 minutes.
•   Add one tin of peeled plum tomatoes.  Break apart with a spoon (or I like to squash them up with a potato masher).
•   Season with a lot of black pepper - do not add salt yet (the bacon fat and indeed the bacon itself is salty).
•   At this stage I add a few glugs of worcestershire sauce (this is not authentic, as you can imagine, but it seriously enhances the sauce).
•   Cook the tomato sauce for 30-45 minutes to reduce it, and remove some of the water content.
•   Meanwhile, in a large pan of rapidly boiling salted water add the spaghetti, or bucatini.  Cook it until al dente, which in most cases for dried pasta is roughly 7-8 minutes.  
•   Drain the pasta.  Add it to the sauce and stir to coat each strand.
•   Cut the bacon into strips and add to the sauce.  Stir.
•   Check the seasoning.  Usually I do not add any salt.  
•   Serve in a bowl.  Finely grate your pecorino, or parmegiano over the top.

Pasta la vista baby

Ok, first of all I'd better apologize for having eaten a modicum of pasta before I realized I should take a picture!  I was hungry!

I am a huge fan of pasta and usually eat it once or twice a week.  I have spent some time with Italians, and when I was able to get a word in edge-ways I found out some interesting things about pasta.  

The Romans invented pasta (well, the Chinese might disagree, but let's roll with the Romans for a moment) as a means of food preservation.  The ability to have a dried resource available during a time when refrigeration did not exist was a godsend.  Many people think that freshly made pasta is superior to dried pasta.  This is just not case.  Both have their time and place and are used for specific instances.

The Italians never, ever add olive oil to their boiling water when making pasta.  Think about the logic of this.  You pour the oil into the water and then it floats on the surface of the water, never actually coming into contact with the pasta anyway.  It is a waste of time.  In fact, if you cook your pasta correctly (in a large pan of salted, boiling water) to an al-dente (to the teeth) texture the somewhat sticky, starchy nature of the pasta assists in helping the sauce stick.

The final faux-pas (what's a faux-pas in Italian?) is that you should always finish your pasta sauce by adding it to the drained pasta and pan cook it to mix.  The Italians never serve their pasta and then dump a load of sauce on top of it.

The Italians are rather fastidious about their pasta - they insist that certain sauces are used with specific pasta.  One example of this is spaghetti bolognese - the Italians would never serve a bolognese sauce with spaghetti.  A thick, meaty sauce like this should be served with something like rigatoni, or at least something with a hole in it, so it can absorb the sauce.  It is for this reason that when you eat your "spag bol" you find that half of it is down your previously clean work shirt.

Last night I made pork, pancetta and thyme meatballs with a fresh tomato sauce (pomodoro).  Actually the vine tomatoes that we are getting at the moment are not quite sweet, or indeed red enough to make a good pomodoro.  For this reason I added a tin of decent peeled-plum tomatoes.

The sauce was simply made:

• About 10 large red as can be, vine tomatoes.  I de-seeded them, but couldnt be bothered to remove their skins, so I blitzed them up in a blender.
• I browned the meatballs in a pan and then removed them.
• I added to the same pan, 3 finely shredded sticks of celery (my new best friend in the kitchen), 2 small onions finely chopped, and 4 garlic gloves (finely chopped).  These were sweated off.
• I added the tomatoes, salt and pepper to taste and some tomato ketchup (to sweeten - you can use sugar if you don't like ketchup).  In this instance I also added a can of peeled-plum tomatoes, but only because I was not satisfied with the redness, or sweetness of the fresh tomatoes.
• I cooked it on low gas for 1hr 20 minutes, so it reduced and became thick, glossy and sweetened.
• I added a few glugs of decent extra virgin olive oil and checked the seasoning.
• Add the meatballs in at the last minute to warm.

I served it with a simple rocket salad, dressed with a heavy-on-the-vinegar vinaigrette.  It was semplicemente deliziosa!