Showing posts with label pasta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pasta. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

grilled eggplant "lasagna" with pesto-ricotta cheese filling

I preemptively apologize for this picture.  I know it isn't pretty or evenly layered, but it's really hard to get a picture of lasagna....

Grilled eggplant "lasagna" with pesto-ricotta filling

But you know what I don't apologize for?  This next photo.  Jamie sent me this on Sunday night.  Thank the Lord for iPhone MMS. 


I don't know why she has it - but it's hilarious.  This is probably my favorite picture of the three of us because it's completely typical, and it shows that nothing has changed in the last sixteen years except we're not as cute as we used to be.  I have short hair in this picture, which puts me in third grade.  (The Great Haircut of 1994 was the single most traumatic experience of elementary school - even worse than wearing headgear to school in second grade, and the episode in third grade when a boy called me an alcoholic because I answered Mrs. Marshall's question with "Sam Adams" instead of "John Adams".)

In this photo, I'm on the left.  I think most people would agree that I am a pretty prototypical "eldest child."  I'm maternal and protective, but bossy, impatient, and expect a lot from others.  While Bollie and Jamie are cheesing hard for the camera, I am very serious, literal, and practical.  Of course, the other, more likely reason I'm not smiling in this picture is because I had a realllly messed-up grill (see above re: headgear) and my mom wouldn't let me "smile with my teeth" when we were trying to take our Christmas card.  This problem was rectified with a full set of braces in fourth grade.

In the middle, we have Bollie.  She was always hammin' it up and putting on a show for everyone.  Most middle children fight for attention, but for Bollie, that was not the case.  She liked being in the limelight, of course, but she never actually had to fight for it because she was just so absurd.  Our home videos contain footage of her singing and dancing, and if the camera was ever on someone else, she quickly and effortlessly diverted the attention back to her hysterical ways.  Today, she's still the life of the party, just three feet taller and with a bit more maturity.  The baby blonde, Jamie, was a chatty kid that could talk to a brick wall.  She was a constant laugh-fest, except for when she would cry.  See how amused she is in this picture?  She was typically very happy, easygoing, and everything made her smile.  But with the flip of a switch, she'd get upset about something.  And I mean really upset.  She'd cry and wail and until one of us felt bad enough to give her what she wanted.  This usually happened when Bollie and I used to tease her (sometimes we'd tell her she was adopted - the perfect taunt for a kid with blonde hair, fair skin, and green eyes among a family of brunettes) or if her "I feel pretty" sweatshirt was dirty or missing.  She's tougher now, but she still talks a mile a minute. 

When Jamie sent me the picture message, I had a delicious grilled eggplant "lasagna" in the oven that was actually inspired by my baby sister herself.  Funny timing!  I make a dish for Bollie a few weeks ago, but this one has Jamie's  name written all over it.  Jamie's favorite color is purple and her favorite vegetable is eggplant.  Coincidence, I think not.  Jamie also loves cheese - so much that she gave it up for Lent this year.  Even though she won't be able to make this dish at least until next week, I know she's going to love it.  It's oozing with three cheeses and features a smoky grilled eggplant in place of lasagna noodles.  We have a slight obsession with eggplant in my family.  Stuffed eggplant.  Spicy eggplant.  Japanese eggplant.  Baba Ganoush.  But mostly we just eat it grilled.  The noodle-less aspect is also relative and appropriate, as my family is slightly pasta-adverse.  It's not that we have anything against pasta, per se, but we are really more rice, couscous, and quinoa people.  (Note:  Bollie may be the exception to this, as she's obsessed with tutto Italiano.)  So, since you can't put quinoa in lasagna, I used a nice fat eggplant in place of the noodle. 

A few notes about this recipe - I had a lot of leftovers from pizza night so I just tried to use those.  I used mozzarella on the top layer, but I wouldn't actually use that again on the top (maybe in the middle, though).  I think the top would be better just with grated Italian cheese.  I also love putting zucchini and spinach in vegetable lasagnas, but I didn't have any and didn't feel like going to the store.

Grilled eggplant "lasagna"
Serves 5-6
  
1 large eggplant or 2 medium, peeled and sliced lengthwise into 1/4 inch slices
2 1/2 cups homemade tomato sauce (or your favorite jarred tomato sauce)
1 red bell pepper or jarred roasted red pepper
4 ounces portobello mushroom caps
15 ounce can artichoke hearts
12 ounces ricotta cheese
3/4 cup grated Italian cheese (I used a mix of parmesan, asiago, and fontina), divided
one large ball of mozarella, sliced (maybe 3 ounces?)
1 egg white
3 tablespoons pesto sauce

1.  Preheat oven to 400F.
2.  Chop artichoke hearts and mushrooms into bite-sized pieces.  Season with salt and pepper and toss with olive oil.  Roast in oven 15 minutes.
3.  Remove from oven and cut heat down to 350F.
4.  Drizzle olive oil on eggplant and zucchini.  Season with salt and pepper and grill on stovetop grill pan, George Foreman, or outdoor grill (if you're that lucky). 
5.  Make ricotta cheese mixture by combining ricotta cheese, egg white, pesto, and 1/4 cup of grated Italian cheese.
6.  Assemble the lasagna in your baking dish.  My layers went something like this:  1 cup tomato sauce - 4 slices eggplant - 1/2 cup ricotta cheese mixture - sliced roasted red pepper - mushroom & artichoke mixture - 1/2 cup ricotta cheese - 1 cup tomato sauce - 3 slices eggplant - 1/2 cup ricotta cheese - 1/2 cup tomato sauce - mozzarella & 1/2 cup grated parmesan
7.  Cover with alumnium foil and bake at 350 for 25-30 minutes.  After 20 minutes, remove foil and let cook open for the last 10.

What do you like to put in lasagna?

P.S.  I have just fixed the recipe for my thai peanut sauce.  Randi tried making it last night and I think the proportions were messed up.  The recipe did not call for as much water as was necessary.  I still recommend adding it little by little, though.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

redemption! butternut squash and portobello multigrain pasta

Butternut squash and portobello multigrain pasta

I have a confession.  Until last night, I was terrified of butternut squash.  Every fall, when butternut squash is plentiful, flavorful, and inexpensive, I stock up, vowing to make lots of purees, soups and roasted vegetable salads all winter long.  There's just something about a butternut squash puree that reminds me of my mother’s kitchen.

However, despite my alacrity at the market, I get impatient and cowardly when it's time to face the beast.  I lug the squash home and set it on my counter.  I think about the best strategies to attack the giant gourd so that it yields the maximum number of those requisite peeled and chopped one-inch cubes.  I turn the squash several ways, putting a knife to where the globe-shaped base meets the cylindrical part.  (Does anyone know what the technical term for this is?  I just call it the shaft.)  My knife meets the tough, dull rind.  I spend minutes debating the options in my head.  "Should I peel first?  No, it couldn't possibly matter, I'm just making puree with the insides.  Okay, time to cut.  No, not that spot, let's try a different way.  No, that won't work either."  I grow impatient and frustrated.  Eventually, I tuck it away in the pantry and look at it for weeks (or months - butternut squash has a long shelf life), until I youtube some cooking videos and muster up the courage to just get it over with.  And that, my friends, is how I found myself with three pounds of butternut squash in March.

My batting average for butternut squash dishes is pretty mediocre, but considering all the prep work, they are huge PITAs. (Whitney and I are using this acronym a lot now, y’all clever readers can guess what it means.)  I have made multiple varieties of butternut squash soup and puree.  Butternut squash and apple.  Butternut squash with creme fraiche.  Curried butternut squash.  But sorry, no matter how excited I try to be about it, butternut squash soups and purees are just not that interesting!

My most valiant, but most traumatic, butternut squash attempt was a made-from-scratch butternut squash ravioli I made for my then-boyfriend.  Let me tell you – that was a true labor of love – and I will never, ever do it again.  It was pretty much a dealbreaker for my relationship (with Mr. Butternut Squash, not the boyfriend.)  First, I prepared the roasted butternut squash puree, which is a feat in and of itself (see prepping and dissection of the butternut squash, above).  Then, I made the dough from scratch and by hand.  At this point, it's probably worth mentioning that, since I lack a stand mixer, rolling pin, and pasta machine, I could have chosen to use wonton wrappers like a normal person.  But I'm a glutton for punishment.  I spent far too long carefully mixing, kneading, folding, and repeating, all the while thinking, "There is absolutely no way Giada's bony little arms can knead pasta dough.  She obviously has Mario Batali do it for her between takes."  At last, the dough was ready to be rolled thin, which I did with a wine bottle, and cut into long, wide ribbons using a sharp knife.  Next, I painstakingly spooned the puree onto dough, folded the dough over to make square pouches, and sealed and sliced off each one.  I repeated until I had two dozen slightly-misshapen ravioli.  After sealing off the last sucker, I promptly crumbled onto the floor, wiped my brow, and thanked God I had time to wash the blood, sweat, and streams of mascara off of my face.  The ravioli was imperfect, but overall it was delicious and straight from the heart.

That’s cute and all, but it's just so much less painful to make butternut squash ravioli from a package.  However, I think there's still something charming and romantic about a homemade butternut squash pasta, it just has to be manageable.  After months of searching for the perfect recipe for a rematch of the battle of the butternut, I found this one.  This recipe is not too difficult, and best of all, it does not require rolling your own pasta or bastardizing an Italian classic with foreign noodle sheets.  And, it comes from Mark Bittman, who I deeply admire for his cooking, writing, and general epicurean knowledge.

I found the recipe on epicurious, though it recently appeared in the January 2011 issue of Bon Appetit.  The glaring problem is that the recipe calls for 8 ounces of lamb, and I am the 40-day Vegetarian!  So, I made some modifications.  I subbed 8 ounces of portobella mushroom tops, which were on sale at Safeway.  Conveniently, they have a meaty texture and consistency, so when chopped into small pieces, they were a great choice to mimic the lamb.  (Note:  I said mimic, not replace.)   Also, I didn't even bother with the cilantro.  A butternut squash and mushroom combination screams out one herb to me - SAGE.  So that's what I used.  Also, Bittman calls for a kasseri or hallumi cheese - but they were each about $9 for a very small wedge, so I settled on a grated parmesan.  If you do choose to use a stronger, more exotic cheese, just remember that a little bit goes a long way.

The final product is a decadent, rich pasta dish that is totally healthy, relatively guilt-free, and 100% delicious.  It's the kind of heartwarming pasta that sticks to your soul and not your thighs.  The cinnamon gives it a lovely, earthy heat, one that I think pairs quite nicely with the sage.  Honestly, I didn’t even miss the meat!  This one is definitely a keeper.  The recipe serves four, so cut it in half if you want to woo someone special but don't want the sore arms or frustration that comes along with a homemade ravioli.    

Butternut Squash and Portobello Multigrain Pasta, the 40-day Vegetarian Way adapted from Mark Bittman 
Serves 4

2 pounds butternut squash (about 5-6 cups), peeled and cubed 
2 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, divided
8 ounces portobello mushroom caps, chopped into very small pieces
3 large garlic cloves (or about 2-3 teaspoons)
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 cup canned chopped tomatoes, with added puree  (from 28 ounce can)*
2 cups vegetable broth
8 ounces multigrain pasta
1/2 cup chopped sage
1/2 cup parmesan cheese

1.  Preheat oven to 450°. Peel and cube squash or used a precubed package.  Toss with olive oil and season generously with salt and pepper.  Roast until tender and brown around edges, using metal spatula to turn occasionally, 30 to 35 minutes. Remove from oven.
2.  Heat additional olive oil, about one tablespoon, in deep, large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add mushrooms and onions; sauté until soft and fragrant, 7 to 8 minutes. Add garlic, cumin, cinnamon, and cayenne; stir 1 minute. Stir in tomatoes, then broth and bring to boil, scraping up any browned bits. Reduce heat; simmer until mixture thickens, about 5 minutes. Stir in squash. Season with salt and pepper.
3.  Cook pasta until al dente, according to package directions.  Drain, reserving 1 cup cooking liquid.
4.  Return pasta to pot. Add mushroom mixture, half of sage, half of cheese; and toss. Add reserved cooking liquid by 1/3 cupfuls to moisten to desired level. Season with salt and pepper. Transfer pasta to bowl or plate. Sprinkle with remaining sage and cheese. 

*Note:  I didn't have canned chopped tomatoes in puree, so I used a 14-ounce can of diced tomatoes that I pulsed in the food processor a couple of times.  That works fine, but it is a little watery, so I bulked it up with a little bit of canned tomato paste.  I wish I could tell you how much, but I didn't measure.  Maybe 2 teaspoons?  Because it was a little on the watery side, I added only about half of the broth.


So, dear readers, I've talked your ear off today and now I want to hear from you.  Have you had any epic failures in the kitchen that have scared you from cooking with that ingredient ever again?  If so, what ingredients are to blame?  Maybe I can find an easy way for you to prepare it!