Quinoa with Sauteed Spinach, Lemon and Ginger

Your house, being the place in which you read, can tell us the position books occupy in your life, if they are a defense you set up to keep the outside world at a distance, if they are a dream into which you sink as if into a drug, or bridges you cast toward the outside, toward the world that interests you so much that you want to multiply and extend its dimensions through books. To understand this, the Reader knows that the first thing he has to do is visiting the kitchen.
The kitchen is the part of the house which can tell more about you.
~ Italo Calvino, If on a winter's night a traveler



I walked into a trap. Yesterday I read these words, and, at the peak of my blogging vocation of these (maybe last) days of exile, I decided to borrow them to start a new post.
But then I had the feeling of being on a slippery slope, forced by myself to continue a conversation that doesn't bear comparison. I can't do it. I really prefer to drop them like that, these stolen phrases, silent but bulky, full and thick as snowflakes.
After all, what could be inferred from my kitchen that doesn't exist? It would be a disappointment. Perhaps you, Reader, you may think that my blog is all a bluff (as I keep repeating to anyone who gives me a little confidence...), and that in fact I really prefer spending time arguing with ghosts, piling pieces of wood and listening to the voice of things, especially the rusty and tired ones, rather than sharpening knives and shredding carrots for the soffritto. Because to be honest, I've never liked to prepare soffritto, with all that onion to be sliced amidst meaningless tears, and those vegetables to be cut at perfection, otherwise you'll be forever discredited by the Great Council of Soffritto-Makers.
What could be postulated from my strictly mismatched bowls, by that array of spices without hesitation that manage to make their way depending on the mood of the moment, by raw sugar and the inevitable handful of Manitoba flour, because you never know? I could also add, for those who want to investigate further, that in spite of myself I have a H.U.G.E. oven, a black and deep hole, turkey-proof, extremely disproportionate and embarrassing. Over time I've learned to get along with it and I've put his unsympathetic size to good use by turning it into a cupboard; if you, unfaithful Reader, if you could look into it, you'd see an indistinct stack of dark and broken trays, piled on top of each other with no sense, those unpolished and heavy trays that everything sticks on them and that not even Martha Stewart can use to bake cookies.
I also have a toaster, almost new but fake vintage style; many jars full of jam, usually red and with strawberries, of the simple kind, with pieces but without peppercorns, balsamic vinegar or other gimmicks. A deliciously unbloggable jam.
A tagine that I'd like to use more often, four large glass jars, accessible only by a ladder, full of molds for every form on earth: for Christmas cookies with honey and cinnamon, for Cannelés de Bordeaux and for filled ravioli that will never see the light. Pots hanging from the ceiling, mini cocottes in all the colors of spring, and only one futuristic concession to a shameful array of graters, long, thin and very sharp.
But there is no room for two, in my kitchen. There is not even a chair, let alone a table! There is neither a pantry nor a drawer, and the imperfect order of cookware, silverware, tools and gadgets is based on a very delicate balance, designed with fatigue and protected with pride.
What you could infer, dear Reader with a pitiless look, I can't really say. I thought about it, the whole evening and then an hour this morning with coffee. But my real kitchen is an imaginary space, "a dream into which I sink as if into a drug", a defense to get away from the world, asking the world to come with me.
So here it is, have a good spinachy quinoa you all.




Quinoa with Sauteed Spinach
with Lemon and Ginger
for 4-5 people

quinoa 250 gr
fresh baby spinach two big bunches
garlic 2 cloves
lemon 2
fresh ginger 1 piece
olive oil, salt, soy sauce as needed

Gently clean the spinach and remove the bigger stems. Heat a few tablespoons of oil in a large pan, fry the garlic cloves, peeled and cut in half, for two minutes, then add the cleaned spinach and cook them slightly. Season with lemon zest and grated ginger.
In the meantime, cook the quinoa in salted water, following the directions written on the package. Let it rest for a few minutes.
When ready, add it to the spinach and sauté for a minute, stirring and adding soy sauce or a pinch of salt to taste.
Serve warm.
w.v.<3

Chana Masala

They're chickpeas. Cooked.
Cooked and then sauteed in a sauce that's vaguely tomatoish and super-extra-hot.
But then let me tell you, these are the Kings of chickpeas, inimitably pleasure-giving, humble sailors on a red sea of spices, luxurious, deep, and blissfully stormy.
Embellished with a long list of spices, from here to Porbandar, these chickpeas become an alternate reality, a mysterious and welcoming world, a refuge for the heart and the palate.
My advice is this: do not be intimidated. Ok, the powders are many and perhaps hard to find, maybe they'll make you run from one side of the city to the other, you'll probably lose patience and maybe even half a day; but perhaps they'll also make you explore hidden corners, discover the magic of new colors bursting with life, or understand the beauty disguised within our conundrums.
If you're in doubt, but even not, just do it. Buy them all. Because it's worth it. Because some like it hot.
Just do it. And tell them I sent you.




Chana Masala
for 4-5 people

dried chickpeas 300 gr
onion, large 1
ginger garlic paste 3-4 tablespoons
fresh jalapeño 1
cumin seeds 1 teaspoon
coriander powder 1 tablespoon
mango powder 1 tablespoon
cayenne pepper 1 teaspoon
turmeric 1 teaspoon
paprika 2 teaspoons
cumin powder 2 teaspoons
garam masala 1 teaspoon
tomato paste 2 tablespoons
lemon 1
olive oil, salt, fresh cilantro to taste

Soak chickpeas for about 6-8 hours. Rinse, cover with water and cook over medium heat for about 1 hour and a half or 2 hours, until they are tender. Drain, keeping aside a cup of their cooking water.
In a large pot heat 3 tablespoons of olive oil, toast the cumin seeds for a few minutes, then add the ginger garlic paste (if you can't find it, you can use 2 garlic cloves and a lot of ginger, minced; however, if you're lucky enough to have an Indian store, full of spices and traditional products close to home, or even at a 45-minute ride from you, I recommend this alternative), onion and jalapeño, finely chopped, and cook for about 5 minutes. Add the rest of the spices, the reserved chickpea water and the tomato paste, and cook for a few minutes. If necessary, adjust the flavor.
Add the chickpeas and cook for 10 minutes; finally add the lemon juice and a handful of chopped fresh cilantro.
If you wish, serve with basmati rice. Or maybe not.
w.v.<3

California Quinoa Salad

The paradox.
America.
So beloved, idolized, so desired, idealized, yet so vilified.
The imperialist America, the lonely, arrogant, bigot, militaristic. So contradictory, intrusive, nosy, a policeman, interventionist.
America so rude, liberistic, oppressive, insensitive and racist.
Stubborn, arrogant, capitalist; warmongering, too armed and a little fascist.
Say what you want.
But there is New York.
And there is San Francisco.
And if you put your foot in there, like a traitor lover you can forgive her everything, and love her nonetheless.





California Quinoa Salad*
for 4-5 people

quinoa 220 gr
water or vegetable stock 400 gr
red bell pepper, small 1
red onion, small 1/2
mango 1
edamame, net approx. 1 glass
sliced almonds 1 handful
cranberries 1 handful
lime 2
balsamic vinegar 4 tablespoons
cilantro, dried coconut flakes, salt, pepper to taste

Put water (or stock) and quinoa in a pot, bring to boil and cook over medium-low heat for about 15 to 20 minutes, until all the liquid has been absorbed.
Cook edamame in boiling water for 4 minutes, drain, shell and set aside. Meanwhile, finely chop the onion and cut bell pepper and mango into small cubes. Mix everything with the quinoa, adding the juice and zest of limes, almonds, cranberries (you can substitute them with raisins or dried cherries), balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper, minced fresh cilantro and a generous sprinkling of coconut flakes. Serve the salad cold or at room temperature.

*I put together this recipe inspired by a similar thing that I spotted at Whole Foods. I looked at the color, peeked at the ingredient list, and voila, my serenade to California.
.
w.v.<3

Chocolate Walnut Cake by Pellegrino Artusi

About Pellegrino Artusi you probably know everything, and I'm also sure that unlike me, you've already tried a hundred of his recipes. For me, this would be... uh... the first time. After giving the go-ahead to Donna Hay, I thought to devote myself to another celebrity. And I must say, I like this Artusi, not only because this cake is delicious (plus it has no butter, and this makes it much less violent than the caprese, which is actually vaguely similar); but also because, reading here and there, I've learnt that he devoted himself to the culinary art only after he retired, and that he published his famous recipe book at his own expense at the tender age of 71 years. Which is to say, hope revives for all, whatever the road that everyone chooses to follow.


Chocolate Walnut cake
by Pellegrino Artusi
for a round cake pan of 9" diameter

dark chocolate 140 gr.
sugar 140 gr.
walnut, shelled 140 gr.
eggs 4
vanilla extract 1 tablespoon
candied lemon (or citron) 30 gr.
butter and bread crumbs for the pan as needed

Coarsely chop the nuts with some of the sugar (of course Artusi says in a mortar, but if we modernize everything and use a mixer instead, it'll be all right...), and pour them in a large bowl with the rest of the sugar. Coarsely chop the chocolate too, then the candied citron or lemon (yes yes... green light to the mixer!), and combine them with the nuts as well. Add vanilla extract and egg yolks, and stir well until the batter comes together. Whip the egg whites until firm, then add them to the nut-chocolate mixture, stirring gently from top to bottom. Grease a round baking pan with a dot of butter and sprinkle it with bread crumbs, pour in the dough (which should be not higher than one inch), and bake at 350 for about half an hour.
It's the classic Sunday cake, which is also well accepted today, although we're only on Wednesday, what you think?

Flourless Chocolate Pecan Cake

This cake is one of the first memories I have of my Californian experience. It was back in 1999, I had just graduated from college and I decided to come to San Francisco, unaware of the consequences (because after 10 years I am still here!). To be precise, in the beginning I was staying in Berkeley at a friend's house. And to finance my "vacation", I found a job in a coffeshop on Shattuck Avenue.
It was the dot.com boom era and people were not afraid to spend money. Trendy restaurants and specialty stores were popping up like crazy, young millionaires with no cash flow were competing with each other on who was able to indulge on more daily luxuries, edible and not.
This unusual store opened right in the middle of this euphoric climate. It was a Pastificio, specialized in making fresh egg pasta of any possible flavour and color, Meyer lemon, cocoa, lemon and black pepper, habanero pepper, blueberry, tomato, and 100 other flavours that I don't remember anymore. And people were lining up, ready to pay even $10 for a pound of pasta, something that would not happen today.
Aside from the pasta shop, they had a breakfast counter, and they used to bake bread, sweets and cookies to fall in love with. I've never had a better olive bread or cinnamon roll. Let alone the chocolate chip cookies or the almond paste torte.

A couple of years ago I happened to be in Berkeley and I walked by Shattuck Avenue, hoping to buy a loaf of bread and some dried tomatoes packed in olive oil. But there was no sign of the old Pastificio, it sunk with the economic crisis of the new millennium. What a shame.
Luckily, I was able to save few recipes that I learnt here and there just by watching my "colleagues" at work. This cake, they would make it every day, and it was always a hit, long before the gluten free trend. Back then one would simply say flourless instead.
No flour, but lots and lots of chocolate! : )


Flourless Chocolate Pecan Cake
for a 9" diameter round pan

butter 1 stick (115 gr.)
chocolate with 70% cocoa 120 gr
eggs 3
pecans 200 gr.
sugar 100 gr.
vanilla extract 1 teaspoon
pinch of salt

Melt butter and chocolate in a double sauce pan over boiling water, let it cool down and then fold in the eggs, one at a time, salt, vanilla and sugar. Beat well with the mixer. In the end, add pecans, lightly toasted in the oven and fine ground. Pour the dough in a round pan, buttered and dusted with flour, and bake at 350 for about 40 minutes.
Let it cool on a rack, dust with powder sugar.