Nurturing my inner... tools of the trade

Have you ever had gnocchi?  If so, I bet you have one of two views.  1.) It was a light, pillowy, delightful dream.  Or  2.) It was akin to consuming grape-sized pouches of lead that sunk to the bottom of my stomach.  No one likes to be super full after two bites.  So I set out to make the airy and delicate kind.  And I'll show you how I did it.

Potato Gnocchi

2 lbs of russet potatoes, cooked and riced (more on this later)
1 1/4 - 1/2 cup flour (depending on the humidity)
Sprinkle of salt

Not a ton of ingredients, just a little work.  But fun work.  Like playing with clay in kindergarten.

Boil 2 lbs of russet potatoes until soft.  Put them into the pan whole in the skin so there is less absorption of water into the potato.  You may not think this is so important, but it is!  It's one of the tricks of good gnocchi.

30 - 40 minutes. Done when you can stick
a knife through them easily.

They will be easy to peel once they are cooked.  But very HOT!  So use a small towel to hold them and don't burn yourself.

No skins in this dish.

Now for a special tool.  It's called a ricer.  And what it does is finely extrude potatoes.  Keeping them light and airy.  Trick number two for making light gnocchi.  Just pop the cooked potato into the chamber, flip the handle over so the flat part fits in flush and use those biceps to squeeze the potato through!

In ya go, whole!

You might think you could just mash the potato with a fork, but it's not quite the same.  See how the potato is extruded?  It's light, airy and fine.  Pressed, not mashed.

Ribbons of potato!

When you're done, it almost looks like a bowl of noodles.

It's quick work. Really.

Add in the flour slowly and lightly mix with your hands.  (Just get in there!)  You don't want to over mix so the dough gets tough or add too much flour so it gets heavy.  Start with sprinkling in a cup, a bit at a time, then go from there.  If the dough seems a little sticky, add a little more flour.  That's the thing about making pasta.  I can give you a recipe, but you may have to tweak it depending on the weather.

Forms a soft ball of dough.

Next you're going to roll out the dough into logs.  About 1/2 inch in diameter.

See, just like art class.

With a sharp knife, cut into pieces about a half inch long.

Line 'em up!

And here we go!  Second special, yet not expensive, tool of the day.  A gnocchi board.  Yes, you can use a fork to make the marks, but this is more fun and makes them look so professional.

Imported from the homeland. (Through
the Internet.)

Put a piece of the pasta on the gnocchi board, take your thumb and press and roll it to the right.  It will create these lovely ridges that will be very useful later to hang on to the sauce.

Oh yeah, now that's some good ridges!

Flour a baking sheet and place them on top.  Very handmade looking in their uniqueness.  I had a few helpers, so we all had our different flair.  Toss into boiling water for just a couple/few minutes.  They are done when they float to the top.  Skim them off with a cooking spider if you have one.

Can you tell which ones are mine? Didn't think so.
I can't either.

A traditional way of serving gnocchi is with pesto.  I got mine at the Wegmans olive bar.  Best store bought pesto I have ever found.  And you can place it into small baggies and freeze for future use.  (That way I always have some on hand for making bruschetta or flavored cream sauce.)  I added some toasted pignoli nuts and cooked up some diced pancetta which I put on the side as an option.

Look at those beauties. Light version.

For variety's sake, we also made a simple bolognese sauce with garlic, sauteed beef and fresh basil.  Half went into that.  Toss lightly though.  Gnocchi are delicate and you don't want to hack them to pieces when you're stirring them with the sauce.

Hearty version with meat.

One friend brought a caprese salad, another steamed some asparagus.  That looks like a pretty European plate to me!

Some with each sauce. Liked them both!

To be honest, I thought making gnocchi would be harder.  Don't they make it look hard on TV?  (I don't even think my grandmothers made gnocchi.)  Now we know from the photos, it really isn't hard at all.  Having the right tools made all the difference.  You can get them off of Amazon if you don't have a trip to Italy planned any time soon.  The gnocchi were light, soft, tender and took on whatever we flavored them with.  I like that we did the comparison of different types of sauces because it showcased their versatility.  (And lack of lead like qualities!)

Since all this rolling, cutting and crafting made you think of your childhood art classes, I just know you can't wait to make them yourself!  Invite some friends over and have fun!

Nurturing my inner... proved me wrong

You've heard me say for the hundredth time that to my disappointment, I can't get good Italian food around here.  I have been at a loss to report really fine Mediterranean fare south of New England.  But I enjoy being proved wrong.  (Um, well, only in some cases.)

It's a tiny place that you may have seen and never paid any mind to.  At first, I walked right by it and didn't see it.  (Seeing as it was 100 degrees out that day, it was particularly unfortunate for me to have dragged my mom up and down the hill until it caught my eye.  To my defense, a truck was parked in front of it.)  Located straight across from the shops at Georgetown, where I recommend you park - Filomena Ristorante.

Quaint exterior.

It looks very small, from the elevation.

Seemed so tiny from the outside.

But once you enter, you walk down the stairs and it's a good-sized place.  I will admit it's a bit dark for my taste, but that's because it's underground.  There are some windows that do let in a bit of natural light, but they had plants in front of them that I wish they'd relocate.  However, I didn't come here for the winning decor.

Typical restaurant interior, nothing fancy
to report.

Oh, but the food!  Again I let my mom choose and we went with a meat dish and a pasta dish.  The chicken parmesan was fantastic!  I mean, really.  Right there in Georgetown.  Thin pieces of chicken breast, lightly breaded and covered in authentic tasting sauce and as seen below, gooey mozzarella.  Killer.

Yep, looks like the real deal I'm used to.

The other dish was their signature lasagna.  Layers of noodles, meat sauce and ricotta.  Topped with, once again, melted mozzarella cheese.  (And fresh basil.)  This thing was the size of a brick!  By the way, they make their own pasta.

Doilies always crack me up!

Mom and I split one piece of the chicken parm, so each had a quarter of it, and we also quartered the lasagna.  I mean, who can eat these portions?  Pro wrestlers?  I took the remaining half of the two dishes home and froze them both.  They heated up perfectly later that week.  I will admit part of our motivation for not over stuffing ourselves, as tempting as it was, was to save room for dessert.  They make homemade cheesecake on their premises.  Several varieties.  Very light and creamy.

And they took the time to do creme anglaise
art with chocolate and raspberry!

I guess I can no longer say there is no authentically good Italian food in the DC metro area.  Filomena's has proved me so very wrong!  And it's in a great location.  Because after we stuffed ourselves at lunch, we needed to walk around the shops right across the street to digest and work off some of the (no, I'm not going to venture a guess that will shock me) calories.  In an air conditioned place!  Phew!  I might not recommend that you go on a day that it's 100 degrees outside, but other than that, I have no real complaints.  I'll always choose a place that focuses on making amazing food and spends less time worrying about the decor than the reverse.

Nurturing my inner... grown up snack cup

I saw Rachel Ray make this and then I tweaked it a little.  Some days you just gotta take a little help from someone who has already done it.  (No need to reinvent the dessert wheel from scratch.)  Due credit is given, so let's not dilly-dally.

Easy Tiramisu (Or I just came up with "Tira-made-simple")

1-2 pkgs of lady fingers (sponge cakes)
8 oz espresso (or 1 heaping tsp instant decaf espresso powder to 8 oz water)
1-2 shots Kaluha coffee-flavored liquor
2 pkgs mascarpone cheese (Wegmans carries it!)
½ cup confectionery sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp Fra Angelico hazelnut-flavored liquor (or other options below)
Unsweetened cocoa powder

You can make this in one dish, but I like to make it in four smaller containers for individual portions.

A bunch of cool stuff.

Let's start with the espresso.  I use decaf for this, because dessert is mostly at night for me and I don't want to be up until 3:00 am.  (This is how I know this little fact: a friend once accidentally served three friends and me all caffeinated coffee and didn't want to tell us after she realized.  That night everyone was up until the wee hours of the morning.  When we all got together the next time, each person mentioned how they were up all night that night.  That's when she came clean!  Busted!  We would have popped her one, but we were all laughing so hard about it, we nearly fell on the floor.)

Having some instant espresso around makes
it fast and easy.

Eight ounces of room temp water with espresso powder, Kaluha and mix.  A shallow bowl works best.

Brewing it is easy too. I make stove top
espresso every week. Seven minutes.

It's wise to prepare all the elements first, then you're ready to assemble quickly.  To make the cream, add the mascarpone cheese, confectionery sugar, vanilla and Fra Angelica.  (You could add any number of flavored liquors instead.  Chambord for raspberry, Cointreau for orange, Godiva for chocolate.)

There really is no substitute for mascarpone.
So splurge!

Beat until creamy with a hand mixer.

Reminds me of tangy cream cheese frosting,
only lighter.

Take the lady fingers and dip quickly into the espresso.  Just a couple/few seconds on both sides.

Don't leave them in too long or they will get
soggy and fall apart in your hands.

The container I used this time was square because it fit well, but I've manged to use round cup-sized ones and break some lady fingers in half to fit the shape.  They are very forgiving once doused.

Three worked perfectly.

Add an eighth of the cream mixture to the top of each set of lady fingers in each of the four containers.

First layer.

Smooth out the first layer of cream with a small spatula.  Delicately.  The lady fingers get soft quickly.

Don't press too hard.

Repeat by placing the next layer of soaked lady fingers in the opposite direction.  On top of that, add another eighth of the cream on each to finish.

Lucky I had any left. I wanted to eat the
sweetened mascarpone mixture right out
of the bowl!

Finish off by dusting with unsweetened cocoa powder.  I have a tiny sifter I send it through, so no lumps.  Refrigerate for a couple hours or more.  (You could make some homemade whipped cream and add that as a layer before the cocoa powder if you wanted a little more fluff.)

Just enough to add a hint of chocolate flavor.

Real tiramisu is heavenly, but more involved and uses raw egg yolks.  I had first tried this recipe when I was making Italian for some friends, suddenly decided I should make dessert, and was headed over to their house in just a few hours, so I had to travel with it.  I was able to get it done fast and the individual containers worked so well.  Gave us all a good stopping point.  Plus, who doesn't like their very own individual serving size of dessert!

Nurturing my inner... godfather

Beer night, Italian style.  The beer: La Rossa from Moretti.  (Insert theme song from The Godfather and start using your hands to emphasize-a every word-a you say-a.  Capiche?)

Even the guy on the label looks tough.

A red checkered tablecloth would have been ideal under the eggplant Parmesan from the famed Mattie's Deli.  (Where is authentic ristorante decor when you really need it?)

A sprinkle of fresh Parmesan to top it off.

The beer looks like it's hiding in a dark booth, in gangster-like, intimidating fashion.  To be honest, (it's only beneficial to us both if I am), I thought the beer was only alright.  It was slightly bland and I caught an after taste which ran a bit woodsy.  My advice: fuhgeddaboudit!  I feel that Italians should stick to making incredible, incomparable wine.  Why diversify when you're an expert in all things grape.  So ciao birra.  And ciao vino!  (Is it me, or is it just a little confusing when the same word is used for goodbye and hello.)

Whadda youse guys lookin' at? You wanna
piece of me? (Like I could resist saying that.)

My favorite quote from The Godfather: "Leave the gun, take the canoli."  In fact, I wish I had a canoli.  That would have been the perfect ending to my bella notte.  (Sigh.  Cruel geography, you pain me once again!!!)  Well, here is where I would have gotten a canoli (or three), had I been a few hundred miles North: Altimari's Little Italy in Derby, Connecticut.  (Though, to be honest, they are stuck under so much snow right now, maybe I can wait until summer for that pastry after all.)

Yet another small brick front Italian shop.
You don't have to be fancy to make
amazing food!

There are SO many wonderful Italian places in Connecticut that I can choose a different item I like the best from each and every mom and pop shop.  (I try as many things as I can - for research purposes, of course.)  And Altimari's wins for best canoli!  Perfect size, smooth and creamy filling, light and crispy shell, just the right amount of chocolate chips and absolutely no candied citron.  (Which I do not like - yuck!  If you don't know if you ever had citron, trust me, you'd remember.)

On mom's festive snowman paper plates.
(Yeah, we're classy people.)

Why do I torture myself like this?  And you too, I do realize this from the look on your face right now.  (And the unsightly drool on your chin.)

If anyone from CT is reading this, I have detailed instructions for you: 1.) rush out to Altimari's first thing tomorrow morning and pick up a dozen fresh canoli, 2.) eat one slowly, cherishing every delicious bite, preferably with an espresso, 3.) pack the other 11 on ice and air ship them to me!  It's the least you Yanks can do since I spend all of my free time writing terribly witty things for your amusement every week.  (P.S., I like the candy-coated almonds too!)

I'm standing by the window watching for the delivery truck right now.  Grazie!

Nurturing my inner... family tree

Homemade pasta evokes all your senses.  It conjures up delightfully subtle smells, scenes of portly grandmothers kneading dough with wrinkled hands, and promises a rare taste of the divine on the end of a fork.  Because of an inborn desire that I'm certain came from my Sicilian genetics, I embarked on quite an adventure nearly one year ago: learn to make homemade pasta.  I gotta tell ya - it was awesome!  So the same friend who hurled herself into this manual task the first time with me (who is not Italian in the least, but hails from Long Island which was good enough for me) was graciously up for it again.  (Dora, you are either very loyal or very crazy!  Knowing the ideas I come up with, I'd say it's the latter.)  It's super fun to do, really tastes great and you'll be so pleased that you gave it a chance.  So give it a chance!

I wanted to make two types of ravioli this time.  I had left over sausage and sage from Thanksgiving, so those would be some of my filling ingredients.

Sausage and Sage Ravioli Filling

1 cup ricotta, part skim
1 egg, beaten
1 cup cooked sausage & sage mixture
2 tsp Parmesan cheese, grated
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup mozzarella cheese, shredded

Right out of the freezer. Well, defrosted,
of course.

Fresh herbs add a real flavor blast.

Since I had it, might as well use it.

Saute the sausage until it's cooked and add the chopped sage. 

Just takes a few minutes.

Ingredients for the fillings on Dora's counter top.

Cheese and cheese.

Both bases start with ricotta, egg, salt and Parmesan.  Then they slightly diverge.

Egg makes it fluffy and light.

Add the extra ingredients and mix.  In this case, the sausage and sage.

Lots of flavor in the sausage.

Add mozzarella last thing and your filling is ready.

Hearty, yet cheesy.

Cheese filling is easy to make too.

Basil and Ricotta Ravioli Filling

1 cup ricotta, part skim
1 egg, beaten
2 tbsp fresh basil, chopped
2 tsp Parmesan cheese, grated
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup mozzarella cheese, shredded

Same thing as earlier.  Add ricotta, egg, salt and Parmesan.  Then for this one, toss in the fresh, chopped basil and the nutmeg.

Fresh basil is key.

The flecks of green are not only visually appealing, but also really take the flavor to a whole new level dried herbs just cannot.

Familiar looking to you now.

I cover the bowls with the fillings and put them into the fridge while I make the dough.

Basic Pasta Dough Recipe

2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp olive oil
1 egg
tepid water as needed (yep, you're gonna have to go by your intuition on this one)

I'd like to make the dough the traditional way.  Where you find a clean, preferably granite or marble counter top, add your pile of flour, make a well like a volcano.  Add the egg, salt and olive oil, and with a fork, beat the eggs into the sides of the flour well, slowly pulling in more of the sides as you go along until it's all sticky.  Adding little bits of water until it's a smooth consistency.  Sadly, we didn't do it that way.  We mixed it in a bowl, then we kneaded it for five or so minutes to get that gluten really going and formed it into a ball.  Then covered it with a towel and let rest for 15 - 30 minutes.  While we're waiting, this is a good time to talk about a book I read over Christmas break called "The Lost Ravioli Recipes of Hoboken" by Laura Schenone.

I had been searching on YouTube for videos to watch that I might improve my pasta making skills, when I came across this one from Laura Schenone.  In her quest to discover more about her personal family heritage, she traveled several times to Northern Italy in search of 1.) details about her great grandmother, 2.) an authentic ravioli filling recipe instead of what had seemed to have been altered over time as it was passed down the generations and 3.) in person lessons on how to make dough with a long rolling pin instead of a pasta machine.  Along the way she tells very real and heartwarming stories of the ups and downs in her current family as well as her historical one.  She really captivates you with her ever curious spirit.

Granted, I'm an American with an Italian heritage, so this book was particularly meaningful to me, but anyone in search of their own family history, with a desire to preserve unique traditions, will enjoy it.  Plus Laura sounds like a really delightful and interesting woman.  While reading her book I found myself once again longing for something.  For people in my life who want to take an entire day and make meals from scratch while they tell me about their grandmothers.  Who are willing to discuss different techniques they've read up on.  Who don't need every electronic item in the house on for mindless amusement and can relate to another human being through actual everyday face-to-face, sometimes awkward, conversation instead.  Now that it's 2011 and we're so overwhelmed with laptops, cellphones and streaming video, is this simplicity irretrievably gone forever?  Have we finally come too far, permanently past a one way threshold, to ever get that back again?  I really hope not.  I'm going to do my individual part in historical preservation of less complicated days by buying a ravioli rolling pin next.

The travel, the people, the recipes -
you'll want to read all about them
for yourself.

As I drove back to Virginia from Connecticut just a week after finishing her  book, I remember passing through New Jersey thinking, "Wouldn't it be fun to spend the day with Laura making ravioli."  If only life were that simple and quick connections like that remotely possible.  I guess for now, I'll have to entice my ever busy, workaholic Northern Virginia friends to slow down and cook with me.  The reward will be well worth it.

Now back to well rested dough.

Didn't look any different to me now, than it did 15
minutes ago, but I think some magic happened.

Cut the dough into four pieces.  Take out one and cover the other three so they don't dry out.

Not convincing yet, but just you wait!

Dora borrowed a pasta maker from her friend.  I hadn't considered other types of pasta making until Laura's book.  Until I can get around to learning more about the rolling pin method, and/or finding someone to help me learn, a machine will have to do.

This is the first chunk going through the largest setting on the machine.  You need to pass it through several times to stretch out that gluten.  Fold and crank, fold and crank.  Right now, you can see how the dough is sort of cracking.  It will get smoother in time.

Hand-cranked and just getting started.

Then you change the dial to one thinner, fold it and send it through again a couple of times.  Dial down one thinner again and keep doing it until you get to your desired thickness for whatever type of pasta you are making.

It helps to have two sets of hands with a
manual hand cranked pasta machine.

The sheets can get really long.  Here I am holding onto a final, delicate sheet.

All smiles. This stuff is exciting.

First attachment, linguine.  Comes out perfectly even.

This couldn't be easier. See.

You can dry the pasta by hanging it on a drying rack or what we did was pile it into little nests.  Easy to store this way.

I prefer this as they break less than when
they are straight pieces.

On to the little pillows.  Lay out a sheet on a well-floured space.

You definitely don't want it to stick to your
work surface.

Put down a dollop of filling a bit over an inch apart until you fill up the sheet.

Filling will decide the size of the ravioli.

Use your fingertips to dip in a bowl and wet the edges of the dough so that when you put on the next layer, it will stick and seal the ravioli shut.

Be light on the water. Don't flood it.

Add another layer of pasta gently on top.

A thin blanket of dough.

Run the side of your hand down the middle and then work out all the air around each dollop.  Air expands in hot water and can make the ravioli burst when you cook it, so you want to try and remove all bubbles.

Looks as good as your grandma's ravioli.

I haven't gone for fancy edges thus far, and don't yet own a pastry cutter, so a sharp knife will slice them up into rustic versions that work for me.

I didn't want to trim them up too much. I like
the rugged look that this gives the pasta.

We lined up parchment paper and dusted them with flour, some people use cornmeal, and then laid out the ravioli to dry.

I can hardly wait.

Before you know it, you'll have dozens of them.

Really, could it get better than this?

After you touch them and they appear firm, you can stack them on one another keeping either parchment or waxed paper in between so they don't stick to one another.  If you plan to freeze some like we did.  We took large plastic containers, (you can use baggies too, but I liked the structure of a container), and put layer upon layer.  One with meat filling, the next with cheese.

Can't eat them all in one sitting. Though they
look so good, you may want to try.

For the ones you are going to cook that day, let them dry for a little bit, then toss them into boiling, salted water until they are aldente.  It will take about 5 - 8 minutes depending on their size and your stove.  They will float when they are done.

And up they come.

Drain and place on a plate.

I have three sausage and two cheese above.
It's easier to tell after they've been cooked.

We were pretty darn hungry at this point, so we made a quick and simple pasta sauce by sauteing garlic in olive oil, then adding a can of crushed tomatoes, some dried oregano, fresh basil, letting it simmer until it thickened up.  We supplemented that with some garlic bread.

Well earned carbohydrate overload!

Eating ravioli that you made yourself will bring you a satisfaction like little else can.  Just like Laura Schenone, I felt close to my own great grandmothers, with every lovely bite.  (And I'm not even good at it yet.)  I am certain that if I could meet Nuna, as my mother called her mother's mother, right now, we would get along just fine.  Relating to each other across the generations, beyond the languages, technology and history, over cherished recipes and age old techniques.  Perhaps wordlessly kneading dough and cutting ravioli in little more than shared silence with an occasional knowing smile.  After all, some connections are well past the need for words.

I'll leave you with this thought today: What is most simple should not be lost.