Pistachio Pesto with Roasted Garlic

Give me songs
to sing
and emerald dreams
to dream
and I'll give you love
unfolding.
~ Jim Morrison

Sure thing after an introduction like that, a la Jim Morrison, I have very little to say.
I could probably tell you about the scent of basil, a universal sign of summer; I could unroll the thread of my thoughts and explain how it is that it's tied to pistachios; I could go on about roasted garlic' newfound kindness, an irrefutable proof of the innate goodness of the universe; or else I could write half a treaty on the color green and the vegan pesto.
Or maybe I could accept Jim's invitation and leave to wander around, speaking of emerald dreams, the meaning of life before and after pesto, of black and white movies, the surprise endings or the songs at the end of spring.
Instead, don't panic, there will be none of that. Today I (almost) prefer to be silent and instead entrust my post to Jim's words, my pictures and the green color of this pesto, wishing you a weekend a little rock and a little roll.
I, for my part, will go out for a walk down to Costa Rica, to regain my green and the energy I've lost along the way.
May pesto be with you until I get back. If I come back.
Besos.




Pistachio Pesto
with Roasted Garlic
for 2 jars

pistachios 75 gr
cashews 25 gr
garlic 6 cloves
lemon 1/2
basil 1 big bunch
extra virgin olive oil 70 gr
salt, pepper to taste

First roast the garlic cloves: put them in a pan, unpeeled, toss with a tablespoon of olive oil, salt and pepper and bake at 360 for about 40 minutes, until they are softened. (Now, I admit that the above process seems too much for six miserable cloves of garlic, so I suggest two alternatives: either you double, what am I saying?, triple the amount of pesto, or, as in my case, you roast a huge amount of garlic cloves, because I swear they're delicious, spread on bread they're a real pleasure, and if you don't make them in abundance you'll regret it, be warned...).
Put in a blender (or in a mortar, for traditionalists) pistachios, cashews and garlic cloves, roasted and peeled. Blend until you get a rather fine grain. Add abundant basil leaves, lemon juice, salt and pepper and blend again. At the end add the oil a little at a time until you get a creamy pesto and fairly fluid. Place in the jars, cover with more oil and store in the fridge.
To those who ask me what about Parmesan cheese?, I'd say that Parmesan in pesto is just a modern fantasy; you can do very well without it, and in any case, to avoid any doubt, I added if you notice a handful of cashews, which will give your pesto just the right touch of parmesanosity creaminess.
Yes you can do it, too.
w.v.<3

Veg Ragù (Meatless Meat Sauce)

Many months and years went by (gulp!), and dozens of posts, recipes, jams, focaccias, canning, pizzas and cakes since that day when I made the most classic of meat sauce for the last time; and also since I committed this other sin for the purpose of the blog, about which I now refuse to talk.
I know that this improper, heretical new entry, and vegan (!), more than one person will refuse to call it ragù, but who am I to blame? Obscurantist controversies don't really suit me, and in my resume, I confess, I too can boast a past as culinary fundamentalist, which, however, used to give me quite a few migraines in this stars-and-stripes land dominated by the horrors (or strokes of genius) of fusion cuisine. So today, of the restrictive philosophy of the days when I used to believe only in buffalo mozzarella, San Daniele prosciutto and pachino tomatoes, I decided to keep only the (semi-)fundamentalist ethics of pizza, whereby the combination pineapple&ham (otherwise known as Hawaiian pizza) to this day gives me intestine hives.
I digress, as always, but this is basically one of the subtle pleasures of a self-managed blog...
Ragù, we were saying. These days I've learned that the word comes from the French ragoûter, that is to say "whet your appetite". So, technically, even what I'm now submitting to your sacrosanct criticism, is a ragù with all the trimmings. Because it really whets, with its expanded fragrance and the ruby red color that will stick to your ladle.
And I call it ragù because it must be made with no rush on Sunday morning, or in the peace of a whole available afternoon; and because it contains within itself the same thick and reassuring idea of when you were six and used to come back home after school, knowing that you'd to find the table already set, and ten to one there'd be pasta with tomato sauce for lunch.
Be patient if this time the meat ran away; and who cares if I can't settle the culinary fundamentalists; it'll mean that I won't invite them for lunch, but then, I don't think they'd like to sit on the floor anyways. Or, to make up for it, I'll call it poor boy ragù, or better yet poor girl ragù, to show off my English and encourage a little compassion.
But take a piece of bread and dip it in while it's hot, and then tell me if by any chance it wasn't worth the effort.



Veg Ragù*
for 6 people

onion 1
carrots 2
celery 1 stalk
green olives 50 gr
raisins 120 gr
salt-packed capers 25 gr
double concentrated tomato paste 2 tubes
red wine 1/2 glass
fresh parsley and basil 1 bunch each
olive oil, salt, pepper, red chili pepper, water as needed

*I grabbed the recipe from the famous folder Forum Cucina Italiana, but I hadn't saved the name of the author, I apologize. If anyone knows who he/she is, do tell. Thank you for your understanding.

Finely chop the onion and sauté for a few minutes in a little olive oil. Add carrots and celery cut into small cubes and cook for about 10 minutes.
Meanwhile chop (you can do it also with a food processor, or rather, better with a food processor) olives, raisins, and capers rinsed from their salt. Add them to the vegetable mixture along with plenty of minced parsley and basil, red chili pepper to taste, salt (a little) and pepper. Stir and cook for a few minutes, then add the tomato paste diluted in red wine and a little bit of water. Cook the sauce to medium-low flame for about two hours, stirring occasionally and adding some water if it boils down too much.
Use it as usual, in the classic sandwich with meat sauce, still hot, or as a sauce for the pasta shape that suits you best: rigatoni, penne, mezzi rigatoni, mezze penne, smooth or ribbed, maccheroni, spaghetti, shells or fettuccine. Long live pasta, long live meat sauce, the veg one even more!
w.v.<3

Pasta e Ceci (Pasta and Cickpeas)

After tasting this, someone wanted to label it An Ode to Rosemary (to each their own PR...). For me it's even more: a memory of home, an essential staple on the Christmas table, the aromatic reliability of flavors and affection.
One of those recipes that doesn't hide anything, and we like it this way, naked, simple, and without any makeup: a little pasta, and lots and lots of chickpeas.

Pasta e Ceci
for 6-7 people

dried chickpeas 500 gr
garlic 2 cloves
rosemary 1 sprig
parsley 1 sprig
vegetable bouillon cube 1
cherry tomatoes 8-10
wide egg noodles such as fettuccine 1 handful
olive oil, salt, pepper, chili pepper, parmigiano cheese as needed

Put chickpeas in a large bowl, cover with water and allow to soak overnight. Drain, put them in a pot, cover with more water and bring to boil. Cook slowly until tender, skimming occasionally and adding more water if necessary (it will take about 2 hours).
When chickpeas are done, add garlic cloves, peeled and cut in half, bouillon cube, salt, pepper, a little olive oil, the herbs tied together with twine, and cherry tomatoes. Let simmer for another half hour, then add pasta, broken in small pieces, and cook until al dente. Discard the herbs and serve, sprinkling each plate with a little bit of grated parmigiano cheese and chili pepper to taste.

Cashew Basil Pesto

Not only pine nuts. Not always spaghetti.
Long live the Pesto.

Cashew Basil Pesto
for one medium jar

basil a whole lot
(but hey, how can you say? a huge, huge amount of fragrant basil, I'd say a big fat bunch)
cashews 30 gr
garlic 1-2 cloves
grated parmigiano cheese 20 gr
olive oil about 125 ml
lemon juice few drops
salt, pepper as needed

As always, do as you like with pesto: mortar, elbow grease and summa cum laude; or else mixer, power on and whatever. In the end, I haven't told you anything, but most of all, tell me who will notice.
So, in summary, throw everything into the container of choice and pound with joy.

Caserecce With Lamb Sauce

No need for Easter, and to tell you the truth, there's no need for a Sunday either. Despite everything, we're going to make a good ol' lamb sauce (... and whatdoyouwantmetosay? good, it's good...), and let a new week begin! May it be aromatic, powerful, and maybe even a bit like this... sinful.

Caserecce With Lamb Sauce
for 4 people

small lamb ribs about 350-400 gr
onion, medium size 1
red wine 1/2 glass
tomato paste 2-3 tablespoons
whole peeled tomatoes 1 can
olive oil, salt, pepper, red chili pepper, thyme as needed
caserecce pasta 360 gr.
aged pecorino cheese to finish as needed

Trim the fat from the meat and cut it into very small pieces. Finely chop the onion and sauté it for few minutes in a little olive oil until it becomes transparent. Add the meat and cook until it darkens on all sides; add a dried, seeded chili pepper and a few sprigs of fresh thyme, and deglaze with red wine. When alcohol has evaporated, add tomato paste and stir until melted. Mash whole peeled tomatoes with a fork and gradually pour them into the sauce, season with salt and pepper and bring to a boil. Lower the heat to minimum and let it simmer very slowly for about 3 hours, until the meat is very tender and the sauce restricted. If necessary, from time to time add a few tablespoons of water to prevent it from sticking. At the end add few more thyme leaves. Cook pasta al dente, dress it with the sauce and sprinkle with some aged pecorino cheese.

Bow Tie Pasta with Carrots

How could I forget? I fall on my knees and ask your forgiveness for this inexplicable mistake.
When I told you about my personal Top Five (aka, the five flavors most bound up with my college years and a lifestyle of leisure...ehm...no, of crazy and desperate studying), I've totally ignored this pasta dish.
But here is my official excuse: at that time it was never me the one in charge of making it, and I preferred to be sweetly spoiled by my friend and companion in culinary/historiographical adventures. In between a Paleolithic potsherd, a couple of yogurts on sale, and one aorist passive tense, sometimes this cheerful and unconventional pasta was just the right thing.
Today, on this side of the world, they'd even call it vegan and it'd be oh so chic. Who would have thought we were so ahead of time?


Bow Tie Pasta with Carrots
for 4

carrots 4-5
bow tie pasta 320 gr.
vegetable bouillon cube 1/2
dry white wine 1/2 cup
garlic 1 clove
salt, pepper, olive oil, parsley to taste

Peel and grate carrots. Heat some olive oil in a saucepan and saute the garlic clove, cut in half, and the half vegetable bouillon cube; then add the carrots with a little bit of water. Cook for about 10 minutes, add wine, salt and pepper. Cook for about 5 minutes longer. Add cooked bow tie pasta to the pan and saute for one minute, adding some fresh minced parsley. Serve immediately.

Walnut and Red Pepper Pesto

Or, a slight change on the subject. I have to admit that in this resurgence of winter (at least in Italy, N/A), a red pepper pesto might seem a little heretical, but we're in California, remember?


Walnut Red Pepper Pesto

red bell pepper about 300 gr, net
walnut about 100 gr
garlic 1-2 cloves
apple cider vinegar 1 tablespoon
lemon juice 1 tablespoon
honey 1 teaspoon
salt, pepper, cayenne pepper, cumin to taste

Roast bell pepper on the stove, peel them, discard the seeds and the white filaments and cut them in big pieces. Lightly toast the walnuts and grind them in the mixer along with peeled garlic cloves until they are creamy, but not yet oily. Add bell pepper pieces to the walnuts and puree them adding vinegar, lemon juice, a pinch of cumin, honey, salt, pepper and cayenne pepper.
Use it to dress an unusual pasta or simply spread it on toasted bread slices.

Romanesco Broccoli And Its Spaghetti

Do you think it's normal that one has to wait until in San Francisco to meet this thing for the first time? I don't know about you, but I'd never seen romanesco broccoli face to face before, and I didn't know what I was missing. It's so beautiful, one almost feels guilty to chop it up.

It's not worth to keep puzzling over the best way to use it. To me, broccoli - romanesco or not - means spaghetti with anchovies and bread crumbs: it's sort of the poor (and ignorant) man's version of the pasta coi broccoli arriminati, which just few days ago won second place in the contest promoted by my friends over at Tzatziki a Colazione.

I'd say very very ignorant in comparison, but so good though!!




Romanesco Broccoli Spaghetti
with Anchovies & Bread Crumbs
for 4 people

spaghetti 320 gr
romanesco broccoli 1
salt cured anchovy fillet 2-3
garlic 2 cloves
olive oil, red hot chili pepper, salt, pepper, bread crumbs to taste

Divide broccoli into florets and boil them briefly in salted water (about 5 minutes or less, they should stay crunchy). Drain and put them on the side, reserving the cooking water, which you'll use to cook pasta.
In a large skillet, heat garlic and red hot chili pepper with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. Rinse and dry anchovies, eliminate their bone, then add them to the pan and let them dissolve in the oil. Add reserved broccoli florets and cook for few minutes, adding some of the pasta cooking water, until they are tender and the sauce gets creamy. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.
Drain spaghetti al dente and saute them briefly in the same skillet with the sauce. Toast bread crumbs in another pan and sprinkle them on top of pasta. Serve immediately.

Squid Ink Tagliolini with Squash

Few days in advance, here is my recipe for Halloween, taken from the latest issue of Gourmet Magazine. I even stole them the idea for the picture, because I really liked those tagliolini thrown against a black background with no plate.

And with this, I hope you'll forgive me for the canned pumpkin, since I really put a lot of effort into it. Not only I went to the Farmers' Market to buy a nice piece of squash yet to be cleaned, but I even made tagliolini from scratch, retrieving the Imperia Pasta Maker that was standing aside, nice and quiet, in the least accessible corner of my so-to-speak kitchen.
Trick or Treat? What about some spaghetti instead?


Squid Ink Tagliolini
with Squash
for 3 people

For tagliolini:
type O flour approximately 150 gr.
semolina flour 50 gr
eggs 2
squid ink 1 small package
(OK, I admit it, this comes from the package, but if you'd like to go hunting for the impossible fresh squid in San Francisco, please do...)


For the vegetables:
squash about 1 lb. (cleaned)
yellow pepper 1
garlic 2 cloves
shallot 1
black olives a handful
salt, pepper, red hot chili pepper, fresh thyme, olive oil

Peel the squash, discarding the skin and the seeds, and cut it in cubes. Wash the bell pepper, discard the seeds and the white filaments and cut it into small pieces. Place the vegetables on a baking tray, add garlic cloves and the shallot, peeled and sliced, season with salt, pepper, red chili pepper, thyme leaves and extra-virgin olive oil. Toss well, then roast at 425 until vegetables are tender (it will take about 25-30 minutes).

Meanwhile prepare your egg pasta as usual, adding black ink to color the dough, and then cut it into tagliolini (no explanation on the egg pasta, sorry...).
Cook tagliolini in salted boiling water, drain them after few minutes and sauté them shortly in a pan together with the vegetables, adding the chopped olives and few spoons of the reserved pasta cooking water. If you'd like, sprinkle with freshly grated parmigiano cheese (I think it'd go well here, but I omitted it out of respect for the packaged squid ink).

Ladies and Gentlemen...The Spaghetti al Pomodoro!

I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly thank spaghetti al pomodoro.
So good, simple and democratic. They could also be linguine, but that's what happened today. And spaghetti it is. To me there is no beef bourguignon, duck a l'orange or bouillabaisse to stand the comparison. I could eat them every single day from here to eternity an I'd never be bored. And when tomatoes are sweet and tasty like the ones you find at the end of summer, then it's really a spaghetti apotheosis.

I'd also like to take advantage of this space to give spaghetti my apologies. Lately, due to my obligations In the Kitchen, I've definitely neglected them, and in order to run after exotic meals, branded dishes and more flashy presentations, I've often forgotten about them and I ended up taking them for granted.

Luckily today some pearl tomatoes sweet as candies intervened to recover my own sanity. Tasting one of them was enough to make me long all of a sudden for one of those minimal pasta dishes, few drops of olive oil, one whole garlic clove, some fresh basil and a sprinkle of black pepper. Dear spaghetti, I admit it: I've fallen again at your feet.
And now I'm asking your forgiveness and I'd like to dedicate you this post, with your own picture and recipe. Please try for once to win your shyness and enjoy this evening as the main hero.

Ladies and Gentlemen, here are the Spaghetti al Pomodoro. Chez moi.


Spaghetti al pomodoro
for two

spaghetti or linguine 160 gr.
pearl or cherry tomatoes
olive oil 2 or 3 tablespoons
garlic 1 clove
salt, pepper, red pepper flakes
grated parmigiano cheese

Wash the tomatoes and cut them in half. Sauté garlic clove in few tablespoons of olive oil, then add the tomatoes and let them cook at medium heat until they get soft and the water they release begins to evaporate. Let the sauce thicken and, if necessary, add few tablespoons of the pasta boiling water. Add salt and some fresh basil leaves, torn apart by hand.
What follows is my personal trick. Heresy or not, I like them this way. Two minutes before straining the pasta, take the tomatoes pan off the stove (they have to be ready at this point), and add the grated parmigiano cheese, stirring well. You'll get a creamier sauce, but still very light.
Drain pasta al dente, sauté it for one minute in the pan with tomatoes, then serve it and sprinkle with freshly ground black pepper (or red pepper flakes, if you like).

Spaghetti with Bell Peppers and Pine Nuts

Here is a very quick recipe that really tastes like summer. Since it's been unusually hot these days, I thought it would be better to take advantage of the moment : )

I learnt how to make these spaghetti from my aunt, the one and only Aunt Andreina, who during the years has become THE Foster Aunt of several friends as well. That's because when one has a problem, she's always there to open her own Confessional, as she calls it...
To tell you the truth, she doesn't make them very often, because she really is the queen of the pasta sauce with fresh cherry tomatoes, and it's hard to give up that one, even for one single day. I wish you could give it a try! For years, I've tried to replicate that sauce, but - who knows why - it never came out quite the same. Maybe it's because of Cortina's tomatoes (ehm...), maybe it's the oil or the bread she uses to make scarpetta (can't translate this one, you know what I mean, right...?). Or maybe it's simply because I don't have my uncle singing Lucio Battisti while pasta is cooking.
These spaghetti instead always come out just like the originals. Tasty, nice to look at, colorful, and even very fast to make, what else can you ask for?


Spaghetti with Bell Peppers and Pine Nuts
for 4 people

bell peppers of different colors 4
pine nuts 2 tablespoons
spaghetti 320 gr.
garlic 2 cloves
olive oil, salt, pepper, fresh parsley, parmigiano cheese

Cut the bell peppers in large pieces. Place them in a large pan together with a generous amount of olive oil, the garlic cloves cut in half, salt and pepper (if you wish, you can also add some crushed red hot pepper). Let them cook at high heat for few minutes, then cover with a lid and keep cooking at a lower flame until bell peppers are tender (it will take about 20 minutes). In the meantime, toast the pine nuts in a separate pan. Drain the spaghetti al dente and saute' them for one minute in the pan with the bell peppers, adding the pine nuts and some fresh minced parsley. Serve, dusting with grated parmigiano cheese.