Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat
Page 26
Salt
2 pounds broccoli, florets and peeled stems
Extra-virgin olive oil
1 large yellow onion, finely diced
1 to 2 teaspoons red pepper flakes
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 pound orecchiette, penne, linguine, bucatini, or spaghetti
1/2 cup Sprinkling Crumbs (page 237)
Freshly grated Parmesan, for serving
Set a large pot of water over high heat. When it comes to a boil, season it generously with salt until it tastes like the summer sea.
Cut the broccoli florets into 1/2-inch pieces, and stems into 1/4- inch slices.
Set a large Dutch oven or similar pot over medium-high heat. Once it’s hot, add just enough olive oil to coat the bottom of the pot. When the oil shimmers, add the onions, a generous pinch of salt, and 1 teaspoon pepper flakes. As soon as the onions begin to brown, give them a stir and reduce the flame to medium. Stirring occasionally, cook the onions until they are tender and golden brown, about 15 minutes. Move the onions to the edge of the pot, clearing a spot in the center. Add a tablespoon or so of olive oil, and then the garlic. Cook gently until the garlic starts to give off an aroma, about 20 seconds. Before the garlic begins to take on any color, stir it into the onions and reduce the heat to low to keep the garlic from browning.
Drop the broccoli into the boiling water and cook until tender, about 4 to 5 minutes. Remove the pieces from the pot with a spider or slotted spoon and add them directly to the pan of onions. Cover the pot of water to prevent evaporation and leave it boiling on the stove for cooking the pasta. Increase the heat to medium, and continue to cook, stirring occasionally, until the broccoli begins to break down and combines with the onions and olive oil into a sauce, about 20 minutes. If the mixture appears dry, rather than saucy, add a spoonful or two of the cooking water to moisten it.
Add the pasta to the water and give it a stir. As it cooks, continue cooking and stirring the broccoli. The key is to make sure there’s enough water in the pan so the broccoli, oil, and water emulsify and become saucy and sweet. Keep cooking, and stirring, and add water as needed.
When the pasta is al dente, drain it, reserving two cups of the cooking water. Toss the hot noodles into the pan with the broccoli, and stir. Add another, final splash of olive oil and the salty pasta water to ensure the noodles are all well coated, moist, and seasoned. Taste and adjust the salt and pepper flakes as needed.
Serve immediately, topped with bread crumbs and generous amounts of snowy grated Parmesan.
Variations
• To add an umami power punch, add 6 minced anchovy filets to the onions alongside the garlic.
• To make Pasta with Beans and Broccoli, add 1 cup cooked beans (any kind!) to the broccoli and onions while the pasta is cooking.
• To make Pasta with Sausage and Broccoli, crumble 1/2 pound mild or spicy Italian sausage in walnut-size pieces into the onions once they are soft, increase the heat to high, and brown.
• To add a little acid and sweetness, stir 1 cup pomarola sauce into the cooked onions before adding broccoli.
• To add a little briny kick, add 1/2 cup coarsely chopped, pitted black or green olives to the broccoli and onions.
• Substitute kale, cauliflower, broccoli rabe, or Romanesco for the broccoli and cook as directed above. Or skip the blanching step and substitute long-cooked artichokes, fennel, or summer squash (page 264).
Meat: Pasta al Ragù
Makes about 7 cups sauce; pasta recipe serves 4
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I learned to make meat sauce, or ragù, from Benedetta Vitali, the Florentine chef who took me into her kitchen, and her family, when I was twenty-two. We made a pot of ragù at her restaurant, Zibibbo, every few days. Like most dishes at the restaurant, it starts with soffritto, a foundation of finely chopped, deeply browned aromatic vegetables. From Benedetta I learned to dote on my soffritto, first when I finely minced it with the biggest knife I’d ever seen, and then when I browned it using an inordinate amount of olive oil. Nothing is as important to the flavor of a ragù as browning, so take your time with the soffritto and the meat. After that, it’s just a matter of time before you can sit down to a bowl of pasta that tastes as magnificent as afternoon sunlight reflecting off a Tuscan hillside.
And if mincing all of those vegetables by hand is simply out of the question for you, then go ahead and use a food processor. Just pulse each vegetable separately in the machine, stopping to push everything down with a rubber spatula from time to time to make sure you get even pieces. Because the blade of the food processor will burst open more cells than a knife, vegetables chopped in a machine will turn out much more watery. Put the celery and onion in a fine sieve and press firmly to drain as much liquid out as you can, then combine with the carrots and proceed as if you’d done it all by hand. No one will be the wiser.
Extra-virgin olive oil
1 pound coarsely ground beef chuck
1 pound coarsely ground pork shoulder
2 medium yellow onions, minced
1 large carrot, minced
2 large celery stalks, minced
1 1/2 cups dry red wine
2 cups Chicken or Beef Stock (page 271) or water
2 cups whole milk
2 bay leaves
1 1-inch by 3-inch strip of lemon zest
1 1-inch by 3-inch strip of orange zest
1/2-inch piece cinnamon stick
5 tablespoons tomato paste
Optional: Parmesan rind
Whole nutmeg
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 pound tagliatelle, penne, or rigatoni
4 tablespoons butter
Freshly grated Parmesan, for serving
Set a large Dutch oven or similar pot over high heat and add enough olive oil to coat the bottom. Crumble the beef into the pot in walnut-size pieces. Cook, stirring and breaking up the meat with a slotted spoon until it sizzles and turns golden brown, 6 to 7 minutes. Do not season the meat yet—salt will draw out water and delay browning. Use the slotted spoon to transfer the meat to a large bowl, leaving the rendered fat in the pot. Brown the pork in the same way.
Add the onions, carrots, and celery—the soffritto—to the same pot and cook over medium-high heat. The amount of fat should be sufficient to nearly cover the soffritto, so add more olive oil as needed, at least another 3/4 cup. Cook, stirring regularly, until the vegetables are tender and the soffritto is a deep brown, 25 to 30 minutes. (You can cook the soffritto in olive oil a day or two in advance, if you like, to break up the time-intensive steps in the recipe. Soffritto also freezes well for up to 2 months!)
Return the meat to the pot, increase the heat to high, and add the wine. Scrape the bottom of the pot with a wooden spoon to release any browned bits into the sauce. Add stock or water, milk, the bay leaves, zests, cinnamon, tomato paste, and Parmesan rind, if using. Add 10 zips of fresh nutmeg by grating it on a nutmeg grinder or other fine grater. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper to taste. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer.
Let the sauce continue to simmer, stirring occasionally. Once the milk breaks down and the sauce starts to look appetizing, between 30 to 40 minutes, start tasting the mixture and adjusting salt, acid, sweetness, richness, and body. If it needs some acid, add a secret splash of wine. If it seems bland, add tomato paste to bring it to life and lend sweetness. If it needs to be richer, add a little milk. If the ragù seems thin, add a generous splash of stock. It’ll reduce as it simmers, leaving behind its gelatin to help thicken the sauce.
Simmer over the lowest possible heat, skimming off the fat from time to time and stirring often, until the meat is tender and the flavors have melded, about 1 1/2 to 2 hours. When you are satisfied that the ragù is done, use a spoon or ladle to skim off the fat that has risen to the surface and remove the Parmesan rinds, bay leaves, citrus peels, and cinnamon. Taste and adjust the salt and pepper again.
For 4 servings, to
ss 2 cups of hot ragù with 1 pound of pasta cooked al dente and 4 tablespoons of butter. Serve with ample freshly grated Parmesan.
Cover and store the remaining ragù in the refrigerator for up to 1 week, or in the freezer for up to 3 months. Return to a boil before using.
Variations
• For Poultry Ragù, use 4 pounds whole legs. If using whole legs, simply shred the meat and skin once the sauce is cooked, discarding bones and gristle. This works equally well with duck, turkey, or chicken. Brown the meat in batches—avoid crowding the pan—and prepare soffritto as directed above. When the soffritto is brown, add 4 sliced garlic cloves into the pot and sizzle gently for about 20 seconds until they give off an aroma, but do not let them brown. Substitute white wine for red, add an herb sachet with 1 fresh rosemary sprig and 1 tablespoon juniper berries to the sauce, and add 1/4 ounce dried porcini mushrooms. Increase stock to 3 cups. Omit milk, nutmeg, orange zest, and cinnamon, but keep the bay leaves, lemon zest, tomato paste, salt, pepper, and Parmesan rind. Simmer until tender, about 90 minutes. Skim fat and remove aromatics as directed on the previous page. Taste and adjust the salt and pepper. Serve as directed.
• For Sausage Ragù, replace the beef and pork with 2 pounds of mild or spicy Italian sausage. Brown the meat and prepare soffritto as directed above. When the soffritto is brown, add 4 sliced garlic cloves into the pot and sizzle gently for about 20 seconds until they give off an aroma, but do not let them brown. Substitute white wine for red, and 2 cups of diced canned tomatoes and their juice for the tomato paste. Omit the milk, nutmeg, orange zest, and cinnamon, but keep the stock, bay leaves, lemon zest, salt, pepper, and Parmesan rind. Add 1 tablespoon dried oregano and 1 teaspoon red pepper flakes. Simmer until tender, about 1 hour. Skim fat and remove aromatics as directed above. Taste and adjust the salt and pepper. Serve as directed on the previous page.
(Shell)fish: Pasta alle Vongole Pasta with Clams
Serves 4 to 6
* * *
I didn’t taste a clam or mussel until I was twenty. Even now, I’ll only rarely choose to eat a bowl of shellfish when given another option. Clam pasta, though? That’s another story. Pasta alle Vongole is one of those mystical dishes where an alchemy so delicious occurs that a list of ingredients does little to account for its depth of flavor. Pasta with clams tastes like the perfect day of surfing—salty and rich, fresh and bright, entirely satisfying. For an illustrated walkthrough of this recipe, turn back to page 120.
I like to use two kinds of clams in this pasta: larger littlenecks, which have a deeper clammy flavor, and smaller Manilas or cherrystones, which are really fun to pluck out of the shell at the table. If you can’t find both kinds, don’t sweat it, just use 4 pounds of whichever variety you can find, and treat them all like littlenecks.
Salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, finely diced, root ends saved
2 or 3 parsley sprigs, plus 1/4 cup finely chopped leaves
2 pounds littleneck clams, scrubbed well
1 cup dry white wine
2 garlic cloves, minced
About 1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 pound linguine or spaghetti
2 pounds Manila or cherrystone clams, scrubbed well
Juice of 1 lemon
4 tablespoons butter
1 ounce Parmesan, finely grated (about 1/4 cup)
Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil.
Heat a large frying pan over medium-high heat and add a tablespoon of oil. Add the root ends of the onion, the parsley sprigs, and as many littlenecks as will fit in one layer, then pour in 3/4 cup wine.
Crank the heat up to high, cover the pan, and let clams steam until they open, 3 to 4 minutes. Remove the cover and use tongs to transfer clams to a bowl as they open. If there are any stubborn clams, tap them gently with your tongs to encourage them to open. Discard any clams that don’t open after 6 minutes of cooking. Add the remaining littlenecks to the pan and cook the same way with the remaining wine.
Strain the cooking liquid through a fine-mesh strainer and set aside. Once the clams are cool enough to handle, pluck them from their shells and chop coarsely. Set aside in a small bowl with just enough cooking liquid to cover. Discard the shells.
Rinse the pan, then set over medium heat. Add just enough oil to coat the bottom of the pan, and add the diced onion and a pinch of salt. Cook until tender, stirring occasionally, about 12 minutes. It’s fine if the onion picks up color, but don’t let it burn; add a splash of water if you need to.
Meanwhile, cook the pasta until not quite al dente.
Add the garlic and 1/2 teaspoon pepper flakes to the onion and sizzle gently. Before the garlic has a chance to brown, add the Manila or cherrystone clams and crank up the heat to high. Add a healthy splash of the clam cooking liquid or wine and cover the pan. As soon as the clams open, add the chopped littlenecks. Cook together for a couple minutes, then taste and adjust acid with lemon juice or more white wine as needed.
Drain the pasta, reserving 1 cup of cooking liquid, and immediately add to the pan with the clams. Let the noodles continue cooking until al dente in the clam liquid so that they can absorb all the briny goodness.
Taste and adjust for salt, spiciness, and acid. Pasta should be quite juicy—if it isn’t, add more spoonfuls of clam cooking liquid, wine, or pasta water. Add the butter and cheese and allow them to melt, then toss to coat the pasta. Sprinkle with the chopped parsley leaves and spoon into bowls.
Serve immediately with crusty bread for sopping up the sauce.
Variations
• To make Pasta with Mussels, substitute 4 pounds scrubbed, bearded mussels for the clams, but steam and shell them all like the littlenecks on the previous page. Add a generous pinch of saffron threads to the diced onion along with the salt. Omit the Parmesan, but otherwise cook and serve as directed above.
• To make Pasta with Clams and Sausage, crumble 1/2 pound spicy or mild Italian sausage into the cooked onions in walnut-size pieces, increase the heat to high, and brown. Add the Manila clams and continue cooking as directed above. Serve as directed above.
• To make White Clam Sauce, add 1 cup cream to the pan of onions after gently sizzling the garlic for about 20 seconds. Simmer for 10 minutes before adding the clams. Continue cooking as directed on the previous page.
• To make Red Clam Sauce, add 2 cups chopped fresh or canned tomatoes to the pan of onions after gently sizzling the garlic. Simmer for 10 minutes before adding clams. Continue as in the recipe on the previous page.
• To work some greens into the dish, add 1 cup of chopped, balled-up Blanched Greens—kale and broccoli rabe work especially well—to the cooked onion before adding the garlic.
• For a textural contrast, top any of the above pasta dishes with Sprinkling Crumbs (page 237) before serving.
EGGS
Armed with an egg and some courage, you can perform any one of a hundred kitchen miracles. Add oil infused with fearlessness, to an egg yolk, drop by drop, and you’ll get Basic Mayonnaise and all the sauces and dips—from Aïoli to Tartar—it makes possible. Use the classic ratio of 1 egg to 1 yolk and 1 cup of cream as the base for any sweet or savory pots de crème you can dream up. Season the cream with freshly ground black pepper, herbs, and Parmesan for a classic savory custard. Steep lavender in gently warmed cream, then sweeten with honey, and strain before mixing with eggs, for a simple, fragrant dessert. Bake in ramekins set in a water bath (see page 161) at 325°F until they’re just barely set.
Whip leftover whites with sugar and top with cream and fruit to make marshmallowy pavlova (page 421), or, when you’re feeling extra-courageous, try your hand at an angel food cake.
Commit another classic ratio to memory, and you can make fresh egg pasta anytime you like. Slowly mix 1 egg and 1 yolk into 1 cup flour, and knead until it all comes together, before resting, rolling, and cutting into noodles to toss with Ragù.
To fry the perfect egg, heat
a small pan over high heat, further than you normally might, add enough fat to coat the pan, and crack in the egg. Add a small amount of butter and, tipping the pan with one hand, spoon the melting butter onto the egg white with the other hand. This bastes the egg so the top and the bottom of the white cook at the same rate, and the yolk just barely sets.
Slip an uncracked egg into boiling water, and pull it out 9 minutes later. Drop it into a bowl of ice water, and peel it once it’s cooled to find The Perfect Boiled Egg, replete with a creamy, glossy yolk. The freshest eggs, when boiled, can be difficult to peel, so roll them on the counter once they’re cooked, and leave them in the bowl of ice, where water will make its way under the papery layer between the shell and the white and uncomplicate the task of peeling. To make an egg choppable, and suitable for egg salad, leave it in boiling water for 10 minutes. For a slightly glossier yolk, remove after 8 minutes.
Add a poached egg to a bowl of rice, noodles, or broth with greens to transform it into dinner. Fill a large saucepan with at least 2 inches of water, and add a light splash of white wine vinegar, which will gently encourage the egg white to coagulate. Over medium heat, bring to a brisk simmer. Gently crack each egg into your hand or a slotted spoon, letting the loosest part of the white slide through your fingers or the slots of the spoon. Gently crack the egg into a coffee cup or ramekin, and then carefully slip the egg into the pan, right where the bubbles are originating. If the temperature of the pan drops and bubbles disappear, turn up the heat, but be careful not to let the water boil because it may break off chunks of white or crack open a yolk. Repeat with 1 egg for each serving, and poach until just set, about 3 minutes. Remove cooked eggs from the water with a slotted spoon, dab on a clean kitchen towel, and slide into bowls.
If poached eggs aren’t your miracle of choice, then whisk one together with a little bit of Parmesan and drizzle into simmering stock for a comforting bowl of Stracciatella.