Tag Archives: Italian

Pasta al Pomodoro

This dish was pictured on the cover of the May 2011 issue of Bon Appétit magazine. It literally translates as “Pasta with Tomato Sauce” (thank you, GoogleTranslate). When I saw it, I desired it. When I desired it, I wrote it into my menu plan. When I wrote it into my menu plan, I purchased the necessary ingredients. And when I purchased . . . okay, let’s cut the the chase: I made it the other week. The result of my efforts: a silky, smooth, flavorful sauce that coats every strand of spaghetti. Somehow it manages to have both that fresh edge and also a subtle depth.

Now I’m not one to speak out against jarred spaghetti sauce–heavens knows that I always have a jar on hand to make emergency batches of Arroz a la Cubana. However, when you plop pre-made sauce on a pile of spaghetti, let’s be realistic: it ends up in a watery pile. Have you noticed that? The puddles of liquid that pool at the bottom of the plate? It’s kind of gross. The pasta and sauce have issues getting together.

This pasta does NOT have this issue. The sauce and the pasta become one. You can’t take a bite of one without getting the other. And together, they will conquer the galaxy.

If you’re just eating the pasta, it serves 3, but if you have bread and/or a salad, it stretches to 4 easily.

Ingredients

(Serves 3-4)

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, minced
6 garlic cloves, minced
1 pinch crushed red pepper flakes
1 28 oz can whole tomatoes, pureed
1 pinch kosher salt
3 large sprigs basil
12 oz spaghetti noodles
1/2 cup pasta water (reserved)
2 TBS cubed cold butter
1/4 cup finely grated Parmesan or Pecorino Romano cheese

Mince the onion very finely.

In a 12” skillet with deep sides, heat the olive oil over medium-low heat.

Add the minced onion and cook for about 12 minutes (until softened) stirring frequently.

While the onion is cooking, puree the can of whole tomatoes . . .

. . . and mince the garlic.

You’ll notice I added a few more cloves to the mix after that initial shot of all the ingredients together. Adding more garlic is a compulsion with me, and I can’t be expected to control my urges in that area.

Add the minced garlic to the onion . . .

. . . and cook for 4-5 more minutes, still stirring frequently.

Add the pinch of red pepper flakes and stir for 1 minute.

By now it smells so good in the kitchen that I’ll totally understand if you start weeping uncontrollably.

Turn the heat up to medium and add the pureed tomatoes and a pinch of kosher salt to the onions/garlic.

Cook for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. If you have a splatter screen, use it at this juncture! If you don’t (like me) please expect to clean the stove thoroughly from the red tomato polka dots after dinner.

The sauce will reduce nicely during those 20 minutes, as you can see here.

Plus I’ve heard that the acid tomatoes will soak up the iron from the cast iron skillet and give me a little extra boost in terms of my metallic needs.

As you wait for the sauce to become perfect, grate up the Parmesan cheese . . .

. . . and cube the cold butter.

Once the sauce is done simmering, take the pan off the heat and stir in the basil sprigs.

Note: we’re talking 3 whole sprigs here, not just 3 leaves. I tore off a couple leaves and set them aside for garnish.

Set the pan aside.

Heat 3 quarts of water in a large pot. Salt the water generously, and when it boils, add the pasta.

Cook 2 minutes short of al dente. We’re undercooking the pasta because we’re going to finish it off in the sauce, where it will absorb all the flavor during it’s final minutes of cooking. Reserve 1/2 cup of pasta water (just scoop it out in a measuring cup) . . .

. . . and drain the pasta.

Discard the basil, add the pasta water to the tomato sauce . . .

. . . and bring the sauce to a boil. Add the pasta . . .

. . . and cook for 2 minutes (until al dente), tossing with tongs so that the sauce coats all the strands of spaghetti.

Remove the skillet from the heat and stir in the cold butter and cheese.

Toss the pasta until the butter and cheese are melted and incorporated.

 Serve with extra basil and cheese to garnish.

Let’s dig in!

Yes, yes, yes. See how beautifully the ingredients have married?

So this is a little more trouble than using premade sauce, but if you have a little time, it’s so worth it. And now, a nice bottle of red would round things out perfectly.

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Amazing Garlic Bread (with Roasted Garlic!)

This wonderful bread experience involves very simply roasting a couple heads of garlic and then slathering the results on the loaf before baking it. Roasting takes the pungency out of the garlic and makes the flavor mellow and deep.

The original recipe was called “Garlic Bread to Die For,” and though I wouldn’t die for it per se, I might at least faint a couple times for it provided there was a soft couch to fall on. Let’s make it!

Ingredients

2 heads garlic

2 TBS olive oil

2 sprigs rosemary, minced

1/3 c butter, room temperature

Pinch salt

1 baguette

First, preheat the oven to 400 F. Now let’s mince that rosemary.

Cut the tops off the two heads of garlic so that the cloves are exposed.

Create a loose tin foil wrapping for each head of garlic; pour a tablespoon of olive oil over each head, and press some of the minced rosemary on top.

Close up the tin foil packages and roast 40-50 minutes in a 400 F oven, until the garlic is getting soft (not crispy!).

When it’s done roasting, open up the little packages and let the garlic cool. Oh. It’s divine.

Once the garlic is cool enough to handle, squeeze out the cloves into a small bowl.

Make sure no garlic skin sneaks in there!

Mash the pulp with a fork.

Add in the rest of the minced rosemary . . .

. . . as well as the butter, and a pinch of salt.

Continue mashing until it’s all combined.

If your loaf is on the large side, add more butter (up to 1/2 cup total) so that there is a generous amount of spread coating the entire surface.

Split the baguette in half lengthwise and spread the garlic mixture onto both halves.

I wrapped mine in aluminum foil, which keeps the bread soft, but you could probably bake yours unwrapped if you’re looking for a crispier experience. Next time I’ll try for the crispier experience.

Bake at 400 F for 15-20 minutes, remove the bread and inhale deeply. Exert your self control so that at least some of the bread makes it to the table.

The butter has soaked into the bread, and I can’t think of anything else besides taking that first bite.

Cut it into chunks for easier serving.

If you’re into cheesy bread, for the last few minutes of baking time you can sprinkle on some Parmesan and crank up the broiler for a couple minutes.

I, however, was happy with this bread exactly as it was.

Dee-licious!

Click here for printer-friendly version: Amazing Garlic Bread (with Roasted Garlic!)