All posts by Gary

Name: Julie's Impossible Pecan Pie
Prep time: 15 min
Cook time: 1 h
Yield: 8 people
Ingredients: 1 1/2 cups chopped pecans; 1/4 cup unsalted butter (at room temperature); 3/4 cup corn syrup (light or dark); 3/4 cup milk; 4 large eggs; 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla essence; 3/4 cup dark brown sugar (packed); 1/2 cup baking mix

People and Places

Academia de Gastronomía in Salinas, Ecuador

October 18, 2017 Gary Leave a comment

**Chef Roberto Rabotti of the Academia and myself**

I’m in Salinas, Ecuador this week. Yesterday a local friend, Ed Farkas, took me and a few friends on a tour of Salinas and environs.

Our first stop was Academia de Gastronomia where I was introduced to Chef Roberto Rabotti. We toured the facility and discussed his philosophy of culinary training (a one year intensive program in the classroom followed by practical experience in restaurant kitchens).

It was a slow day at the Academy as graduation was the day before. The Academy is currently accepting new students.

The Academy has an on-site restaurant as well as a coffee shop.

Chef Rabotti is originally from Italy but has been in Ecuador for many years after working in Italy, Switzerland, Colombia and other countries.

The Academy provides critical professional training for a country that has an important tourist infrastructure.

**I can attest that the pastries are very good**

Chef Rabotti also has a very highly rated Italian restaurant, Italian Gourmet, in Salinas. It is very near the condo we are in but it appears to be closed until tourist season starts in earnest next month. We’ve tried to go there twice (once for lunch and once for dinner) but it was closed both times. We’re going to give it one more try before we leave.

Recipes

Julie’s Impossible Pecan Pie

Bertha’s Flan

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October 11, 2017

Bertha Kravicas left Lithuania in 1927 with her family. They were hoping to get to America but when the quota was full they went to the closest place they could.

They thought their sojourn in Cuba would be brief but as the months turned into years, Bertha made a trip back to the Old Country where she met Victor Ashman in Latvia.

They married and returned to live in Cuba in 1931. Over the years, they became Cubans in the way that immigrants to the United States become Americans no matter their background.

**Bertha in Matanzas, Cuba in the 1940s**

Victor even decided to run for public office. Because his name was not Cuban enough he officially changed it to Victor A. Larriga, in honor of his birthplace, Riga, Latvia.

One of the ways that Bertha adapted to her new country was through cooking.

Flan is made throughout the Spanish-speaking world but is especially popular in Cuba where it is the most common dessert. Flan is a source of family pride with each family believing that its flan is the best. (This sounds very familiar to me coming from a Southern Italian background where the same belief attaches to tomato sauce).

Flan recipes are passed down from generation to generation and fall into two general categories, those that contain canned milk and those that do not. Cubans smile approvingly when hearing that flan contains canned milk. After all, that’s how it should be!

Bertha’s flan is made entirely from canned milk; two kinds actually. That, and the generous amount of egg, makes a substantial flan.

After the Cuban Revolution Bertha and Victor took advantage of President Eisenhower’s offer for Cubans to immigrate to the United States. They arrived in late 1960 along with their son, Stuart.

**Bertha and Victor on their Harley in the 1940s**

Stuart is now the Executive Director of the Center for Contemporary Arts in Santa Fe. It was at a CCA event earlier this summer that I tasted this remarkable flan made by Stuart’s wife Peggy Gaustad. Peggy is now the flan maker in the family, having taken over from Stuart. For the CCA event, Peggy made flan for 100 people but she recalls once making it for 150!

Stuart remembers that as a child, when his mother would make flan, he would be given the empty can of condensed milk and a chopped up banana to sop up the last bit of sweetness!

This recipe is actually double Bertha’s original. It’s the way Peggy makes it because there never seems to be enough from the original.

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Bertha's Flan

Before caramelizing the sugar in the pan you’re going to use for the flan, put the empty pan inside of the larger one that you’re going to use for the water bath then add water to the large pan to come at least one inch up the side of the pan that will hold the flan. Remove the pan that you’ll use for the flan.

Course

Desserts and Sweets

Cuisine

Cuban

Prep Time

10 minutes

Cook Time

1 1/2 hours

Passive Time

30 minutes

Servings

people

Ingredients

2 cans sweetened condensed milk 14 ounces each
2 cans evaporated milk 12 ounces each
6 very fresh eggs lightly beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup white sugar

Course

Desserts and Sweets

Cuisine

Cuban

Prep Time

10 minutes

Cook Time

1 1/2 hours

Passive Time

30 minutes

Servings

people

Ingredients

2 cans sweetened condensed milk 14 ounces each
2 cans evaporated milk 12 ounces each
6 very fresh eggs lightly beaten
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup white sugar

Instructions

For the flan, choose a 12-inch diameter pan with straight sides that can be heated on the stove and put in the oven.
Put enough water into a pan large enough to hold the pan with the flan so that the water comes one-inch up the sides of the pan with the flan.
Put the sugar into the pan selected for the flan.
Heat the pan with the sugar on medium heat until the sugar melts and turns dark brown. (A series of pictures follows showing the progression of the caramelization.)
Do not stir the sugar or caramel. Simply swirl the pan from time to time to mix the caramel. Rotate the pan on the heat occasionally to reduce hot-spots.
If the pan has a very heavy bottom, the retained heat will continue to brown the sugar off the heat. Stop caramelizing the sugar a little before you think it’s done otherwise it might burn. If it turns out that the caramel is not quite dark enough, you can heat the pan again briefly.
Remove the pan from the heat and allow it to cool during which time the caramelized sugar will harden on the bottom.
While the caramel is cooling, bring the water in the water bath to a simmer on the stovetop then put the pan into a 350°F oven.
Meanwhile, combine the condensed milk, evaporated milk, eggs, vanilla extract, and salt. Mix well.
When the caramel is hardened, pour the milk-egg mixture on top.
Cover the pan tightly, either with foil or with a lid.
Put the pan into the water bath in the 350°F oven.
Bake for 1 hour 15 minutes at 350°F.
A knife inserted in the center of the flan should come out clean. If not, cook a few minutes longer.
Remove the flan from the oven and cool to room temperature.
Refrigerate at least 8 hours. Overnight is best.
When ready to serve, run a knife around the edge of the flan.
Put a large platter upside down on top of the pan with the flan. Quickly flip the entire set-up over. The flan should come out of the pan in one piece. Pour any remaining caramel syrup onto the flan.
Serve very cold.

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Liquore al Lauro (Italian Bay Laurel Liqueur)

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October 6, 2017

Making liqueurs at home is a time-honored Italian tradition. Limoncello is probably the most well-known but there are many others.

Many years ago at a now-shuttered artisanal Italian restaurant in the Andersonville neighborhood of Chicago I tasted house-made Liquore al Lauro, also referred to as Liquore Alloro.

I was hooked.

Every time I went to the restaurant, my meal ended with Liquore al Lauro.

Then the restaurant closed.

The Liquore al Lauro ended.

And I vowed to make it one day.

That day happened in late 2009 when our bay laurel plant was trimmed back for the winter. There was a pile of bay leaves on the kitchen counter. After I put a stash of them in the freezer for easy access during the winter (far, far better than dried!) I still had a pile that I couldn’t bear to discard.

Out came a book I bought on a previous trip to Italy with my in-laws. I think it’s the same trip where we brought back a copper polenta pot (which you can see in my Polenta post), a grape press, and a super-fancy (and super-heavy) brass faucet that is a gargoyle head with a sea-creature coming out of its mouth out of which the water comes, among other things.

The faucet was ultimately to be incorporated into a garden fountain. That hasn’t yet happened but I’m not giving up.

The book “How to Make Liqueurs at Home” (see the photo below) had a recipe for Liquore al Lauro.

It was an ill-fated first attempt, however. I was using California bay leaves instead of Mediterranean bay leaves. When cooking, recipes often specify using half the quantity of California bay as Mediterranean bay as they are more aromatic. I was prepared to dilute the liquore to determine the correct quantity of California bay leaves so that wasn’t the major issue.

The real issue is that after I put up three large batches of bay leaves to macerate in alcohol, one plain, one with cinnamon, and one with coffee beans, my company landed a consulting contract in the United Arab Emirates.

Late fall into winter 2009 became a whirlwind of activity culminating with my moving to Dubai in January 2010 for much of the year.

**A view from my apartment looking out at the Arabian Gulf and the man-made Palm Jumeriah island with the Atlantis hotel in the distance**

**Another view from the apartment looking at part of Dubai Marina, a 7 kilometer long man-made waterway**

Dubai Marina is a paradise for walkersThe bay leaves macerated for months upon months. When I finally got around to trying to finish the Liquore al Lauro the mixture had turned bitter from over-extraction.

I had to discard gallons of bay-infused alcohol.

A few years went by before I decided it was worth trying again.
This time, I reduced the bay leaves by half right up front and shortened the maceration to four days to avoid any chance of bitterness. I made plain and cinnamon-infused but have not, to date, gone back to the coffee bean experiment.

Because I want my recipes to be reproducible, I do my best to eliminate unnecessary variation. To that end, I weigh and measure ingredients precisely. For this recipe, I use a small metric scale that measures in hundredths of a gram (for the bay leaves and cinnamon), a large metric scale that measures in increments of one gram (for the sugar), and a graduated cylinder (for the water and alcohol). I can assure you that this does not happen in the average Italian household, nor does it need to happen in yours. The recipe app will convert the metric measures to US measures at the click of a button and I’ve provided an approximate count of bay leaves and inches of cinnamon stick that will work well.

**The small scale that I use for precise weights**

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Liquore al Lauro (Bay Leaf Liqueur)

Don’t be put off by the use of Everclear (or equivalent) the high proof is needed to extract the volatile oils in a reliable manner. The final liqueur ends up being about 63 proof, equivalent to most commercially produced liqueurs.

Course

Beverages

Cuisine

Italian

Prep Time

15 minutes

Passive Time

5 days

Servings

liters

Ingredients

15 grams fresh California bay leaves approximately 15-20 leaves
7 grams cinnamon stick approximately 3 inches (optional)
1250 ml of 151 proof alcohol such as Everclear
750 grams white sugar
1250 ml filtered water

Course

Beverages

Cuisine

Italian

Prep Time

15 minutes

Passive Time

5 days

Servings

liters

Ingredients

15 grams fresh California bay leaves approximately 15-20 leaves
7 grams cinnamon stick approximately 3 inches (optional)
1250 ml of 151 proof alcohol such as Everclear
750 grams white sugar
1250 ml filtered water

Instructions

Wash the leaves in cool water and dry gently.
In a jar with a tight-fitting lid that holds at least 2 quarts, combine the bay leaves, cinnamon (if using) and alcohol.
Cover the jar and swirl.
Put the jar in a cool spot out of direct sunlight for four days.
Swirl the contents once or twice daily.
On the third day, combine the sugar and water in a one-gallon jar (or other non-reactive container) with a tight-fitting lid.
Swirl the sugar and water mixture every few hours throughout the day, until the sugar has dissolved. It can take up to 24 hours for the sugar to fully dissolve.
On the fourth day, strain the bay-leaf-infused alcohol into the jar with the sugar water. The liquid may become cloudy but will become clear in about 24 hours with the occasional swirl.
After 24 hours, ladle the liqueur into smaller bottles, such as empty liquor bottles.
Seal tightly and store in a cool, dark place for one month before drinking.
Serve chilled or over ice or at room temperature based on your preference.

Recipe Notes

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Roasted Sweet Peppers

Mom’s Ravioli

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September 27, 2017

My strongest olfactory memory of childhood is gradually waking up on Sunday morning to the smell (perfume is a better characterization as far as I’m concerned) of garlic being sautéed in olive oil.

That was how most Sundays started.

My mother would get up early and start making her long-simmered Southern Italian Tomato Sauce (referred to as Ragu or Sugo if one’s Italian roots were close, “Gravy” if one grew up in New York or nearby, and often just “Sauce”). We unceremoniously called it “Spaghetti Sauce” though it was used on much more than spaghetti!

I think the better part of my culinary-cultural history is represented by that sauce. Every Italian family’s sauce is different, even if stylistic similarities can be identified. The sauces made by my mother and her two sisters that I knew, Aunt Margie and Aunt Mamie, were clearly related but also different. Each was good but it’s not as if they didn’t deviate from my Grandmother’s recipe. They were similar in that garlic and meat were browned in oil; tomato products, water, and seasonings were added; and the whole thing simmered for hours. The meats varied, the tomato products (tomato paste, tomato puree, whole canned tomatoes, etc.) and the proportions of them definitely varied as did the seasonings and other aromatics.

My mother’s “Spaghetti Sauce” to call it by its “historic” name, a name that I no longer use, is, without doubt, my most precious culinary treasure. I have only ever given the recipe out twice. In the 1970’s I gave it to John Bowker and his wife Margaret Roper Bowker. John was the dean of Trinity College in Cambridge, England. Recently I gave it to Robert Reddington and John O’Malley in Palm Springs after Bob lamented the loss of the recipe for the long-simmered tomato sauce he learned to make while living in Chicago.

With my mother’s sauce as the near-constant backdrop to our Sunday dinners, the rest of the meal varied. The sauce could be served with spaghetti or some other cut of dry pasta, or with my mother’s home-made fettuccine, or with ravioli. Although my favorite pasta is gnocchi, we never had those on Sundays as my father didn’t like them. Gnocchi (always home-made) were reserved for a weeknight meal during the times that my father worked out of town.

The sauce has an abundant amount of meat in it, pork, always cut in big pieces, never ground or chopped. Nonetheless, the pasta was often accompanied by my mother’s slow-cooked roast pork or maybe a roast chicken.

It seems incongruous now, but in the 1960s, before the widespread use of antibiotics, chickens were expensive! (I’m not in favor of the prophylactic use of antibiotics but I’m just saying that’s why chickens are relatively inexpensive now.) I still have a handful of my mother’s “City Chicken” sticks from the 1960s. They are round, pointed sticks slimmer than a pencil but thicker than bamboo skewers. Pieces of pork and veal would be skewered in alternating fashion on the sticks, breaded, and fried like chicken drumsticks. This was less expensive than chicken!!

But back to Sundays…

Sometimes, after the sauce was bubbling away, my mother would make ravioli. Next to gnocchi, they are my favorite pasta, but manicotti and lasagna aren’t far behind.

We would eat our big meal around 1 PM on Sunday and my mother would get all of this done in time for that meal, including taking time to go to church, during which my Aunt Mamie, who lived upstairs, would be tasked with stirring the “Spaghetti Sauce.”

Making ravioli in a group is a lot more fun. I also find that making the ravioli on a different day from the day they are cooked and eaten means that I am not as tired and I enjoy them more. The pictures in this post are from a Sunday when I got together with Rich DePippo, Susan Vinci-Lucero, and my in-laws, Marisa and Frank Pieri, to make ravioli. I think we made about 30 dozen ravioli!

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Mom's Ravioli

The filling can be made a day in advance and refrigerated, tightly covered. Ravioli freeze well. To do so, lightly flour a sheet pan that will fit in your freezer and put the ravioli in a single layer. Freeze about 30-45 minutes, until firm. Quickly put the ravioli in a zipper-lock bag and return to the freezer. Repeat with the remaining ravioli. My mother always made her dough by hand but I use a kitchen mixer and the beater, not the dough hook. Years ago, ground meat was not labeled with the percent fat. My mother would select a cut of sirloin, have the butcher trim off all visible fat and then grind it. I find that 93% lean ground beef replicates the experience.

Course

Pasta, Noodles, and Sauces

Cuisine

Italian

Prep Time

2 hours

Passive Time

30 minutes

Servings

people

Ingredients

Filling

10 ounces frozen chopped spinach
1 pound ground beef 93% lean
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic minced
1 egg lightly beaten
1/3 cup fine dry breadcrumbs additional if needed
salt to taste
black pepper freshly ground to taste

Dough

4 cups all purpose flour
1 egg
3 egg whites
1 cup water scant

Course

Pasta, Noodles, and Sauces

Cuisine

Italian

Prep Time

2 hours

Passive Time

30 minutes

Servings

people

Ingredients

Filling

10 ounces frozen chopped spinach
1 pound ground beef 93% lean
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 clove garlic minced
1 egg lightly beaten
1/3 cup fine dry breadcrumbs additional if needed
salt to taste
black pepper freshly ground to taste

Dough

4 cups all purpose flour
1 egg
3 egg whites
1 cup water scant

Instructions

Filling

Put the frozen spinach in a small saucepan. Add a few tablespoons of water. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until the spinach is completely thawed.
Pour the spinach into a large sieve.
After the spinach has cooled enough to handle, squeeze handfuls of the spinach to remove as much liquid as possible.
Heat the olive oil in a 12-inch sauté pan until shimmering. Add the beef.
Cook over high heat until the liquid has evaporated, breaking up the meat while cooking.
Reduce the heat to medium and add the garlic, 1 teaspoon of salt, and black pepper to taste. Continue to sauté for 2-3 minutes more.
Add the spinach to the beef.
Continue to cook over medium to medium-low heat while breaking up the spinach and completely combining it with the beef.
When the beef and spinach are well combined and no obvious liquid remains in the pan, add the beaten egg. Stir well and cook two minutes more. The egg should completely incorporate into the filling and no longer be visible.
Adjust salt and pepper.
On low heat, add 1/4-1/3 cup of breadcrumbs and combine well to absorb any remaining liquid or oil. If necessary to absorb any remaining liquid, add another tablespoon or two of breadcrumbs. If you cooked off all the liquid when browning the beef, and used lean beef, 1/3 cup of breadcrumbs should be enough.
Cool the filling to room temperature before filling the ravioli.

Dough

Put the flour, egg, and egg whites in the bowl of an electric mixer outfitted with a paddle.
Mix on low until combined.
Add the water, a little at a time, until the dough just comes together. The dough should not be the slightest bit tacky. You may not need all the water.
Remove the dough from the mixer and roll into a log. Cover with a kitchen towel and allow to rest for 15 to 30 minutes before rolling out.

Assembly

Set up your pasta machine, either a hand crank version or an attachment for your mixer.
Cut off a small handful of dough.
Flatten the dough, dust with flour, and run it through the pasta machine on the thickest setting.
If the dough is catching on the rollers it may be too wet. Sprinkle liberally with flour.
Run the dough through the same setting one more time.
Run the dough through the pasta machine narrowing the setting by one notch each time. If the dough is getting too long to cover much more than two lengths of the ravioli mold, cut off the excess and continue.
When rolling out the dough, use slow, even motion. If the dough is not rolling out to the full width of the machine, or at least wide enough to cover the width of the ravioli mold, fold it in half crosswise and run it through the machine again on whatever the last setting was.
If the dough is not rolling out smoothly, and the issue is not that it is too damp, run the dough through the machine again on the same setting.
On most pasta machines with five settings for thickness, you will want to stop rolling out the dough on the next-to-thinnest setting.
Put the rolled out dough on a lightly floured surface and cover with a kitchen towel. Repeat with 2 or 3 more portions of dough.
Allow the remaining dough to rest, covered, while filling and cutting the first batch of ravioli.
To fill the ravioli, take the rolled out dough and lay it across the ravioli mold.
Add a slightly rounded teaspoonful of filling to each ravioli. Do not overfill or the ravioli may break when being cooked.
Fold the dough over the top.
Lightly pat the top sheet of dough.
Using a rolling pin, cut the dough along the zig-zag edges. Be careful to fully cut through the dough around the edges as well as between each raviolo.
Remove the ravioli and place on a lightly floured surface. Cover lightly with a kitchen towel.
Repeat with the remaining dough and filling.
Cook, refrigerate, or freeze the ravioli.

Recipe Notes

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Recipes

New Mexican Green Chile Sauce

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September 22, 2017

Those of you who haven’t spent time in New Mexico may not know that chile (definitely spelled with an “e”) has cult status in the state.

New Mexican food wouldn’t be the same without “red” or “green.” Chile, that is. Those are the standard sauces used in New Mexican cuisine.

When ordering most dishes in a New Mexican restaurant in Santa Fe, the first question from the server, if the customer hasn’t specified, is “Red or Green or Christmas?”

Just 70 miles away in Taos, the question is “Red or Green or Caribe?”

It’s not that you can’t get Christmas in Taos, which as you might have guessed is half red chile sauce and half green chile sauce, it’s that never, ever is Caribe an option in Santa Fe. It just isn’t. I believe this speaks to the development of related, but different, foodways in the historically isolated towns and villages of New Mexico.

The most famous of all New Mexico chile is Hatch. There are about six varieties of chile grown in Hatch but, if they’re grown there, they can all be labeled as Hatch Chile. The tiny village of Chimayó, just under 30 miles from Santa Fe in northern New Mexico, grows good chile, too.

When I buy roasted green chile at the Santa Fe Farmers Market, I usually head for the vendor selling chile from Chimayó. That’s exactly what I did last week to make a batch of Green Chile for this blog post (honestly, we don’t add the word “sauce” to the end as the context indicates whether one is talking about the sauce or the fruit. And, yes, chile is a fruit!). Chimayó has a multi-hundred year history of growing heirloom chile and I feel good supporting that history, if even in a very small way.

**A typical chile-roasting set-up found throughout parking lots in New Mexico in the late summer.**

I served that chile during a dinner party for a group of close friends. Among the ten of us, only one was born and raised in New Mexico, Pat Assimakis (aka Pat Paris if you’re a maître d’ and she’s ever made a reservation at your restaurant). I gave Pat a taste of my green chile, she thought for a second and said, “Chimayó?” She nailed it! It’s got a slightly different taste from Hatch chile.

New Mexicans have strong opinions about their chile, be it red or green. The usual divide is between those who put almost nothing but chile in their chile (see, you knew the first meant the fruit and the second meant the sauce, right?) except for a bit of onion and/or garlic and those who add herbs (like oregano) and spices (like cumin). I am firmly in the former camp. Onion and garlic help to round out the flavor but, to my taste, herbs and spices detract from the pure chile goodness.

The other divide is degree of heat. Back to the restaurant scenario above, a frequent question from the customer after the server says “Red or Green?” is “Which is hotter?” Restaurants stake out their territory, not only in how they make their chile, but in terms of which is hotter.

Since I’m a bit of a chile-head, given a choice between the medium-hot and the hot Chimayó chile at the Farmers Market, I opted for the hot. So, I was more than a little concerned when Doug Howe, one of the other friends at our dinner, and the first to ladle some green chile onto his plate, took three large spoonsful. Before I could warn him, he took a bite and was in agony. I relieved him of his green chile, putting it on my plate, instead. Pat and I sure enjoyed the chile, Doug not so much. As for the other seven diners, I’m not sure.

In case you missed it, here is my recipe for Red Chile.

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New Mexican Green Chile Sauce

This is classic New Mexican Green Chile. There are just a few aromatics and no herbs and spices to muddy the flavor. Removing the skin and seeds can be a chore as they want to stick to your fingers. Dipping the chile and your fingers in water makes the task a breeze however, you want to use that water as part of the sauce because all of the tasty liquid that collects inside the chile as it roasts would be lost otherwise.

Course

Savory Sauces and Marinades

Cuisine

American, New Mexican

Prep Time

30 minutes

Cook Time

45 minutes

Servings

cups

Ingredients

2 cups roasted green chile diced
1/2 large onion diced
2 cloves garlic minced
4 cups water
2 teaspoons salt

Course

Savory Sauces and Marinades

Cuisine

American, New Mexican

Prep Time

30 minutes

Cook Time

45 minutes

Servings

cups

Ingredients

2 cups roasted green chile diced
1/2 large onion diced
2 cloves garlic minced
4 cups water
2 teaspoons salt

Instructions

Roasted green chile ready to be cleaned.
Put two cups of water in a small bowl.
Holding the chile over a bowl to catch any juice, use your fingers to remove the skin of the roasted chile. Most of the skin should slide off easily. You may need to work on a few bits here and there. Remove as much skin as possible but a few bits of stubbornly sticking skin aren’t a problem.
Shake whatever skin you can from your fingers (it has a tendency to cling desperately to your fingers) then dip your fingers and the chile in the bowl of water to remove the clinging skin.
Still holding the chile over a bowl, remove the stem end. You can usually do this by pinching the top of the chile but a pair of kitchen shears works well, too.
Discard the stem end and any seeds that cling to it.
Split the chile in half lengthwise. Again, this is pretty easy to do with a fingernail.
Dip the chile into the bowl of water and scrape away the seeds.
Put the cleaned chile into a clean bowl and repeat the process with the remaining chile.
Cut the chile into long strips.
Cut the chile crosswise into small squares
Add any liquid that has collected in the bottom of the bowl from the chopped chile to the bowl of water.
Strain out seeds and bits of flesh from the water using a three step process. Strain the water through a large sieve.
Strain the liquid through a fine, small sieve.
Strain the liquid through several layers of cheesecloth or a paper filter.
Chop the onion.
Mince the garlic.
Combine ½ cup of chopped chile, onion, garlic, strained water, and salt in a saucepan. Bring the mixture to a boil and simmer for 20 minutes.
Using an immersion blender or a regular blender puree the chile mixture. This will help to thicken the chile sauce without using a thickening agent.
Add the remaining diced chile and two cups of water to the puree and simmer until the chile is soft to the bite, but not mushy, approximately 15-20 minutes, adjusting salt approximately 10 minutes into the simmer. If you used a regular blender in the previous step, use the water to rinse out the blender jar before adding it to the pot.
The green chile can be refrigerated or frozen. It will become softer if frozen so best to cook it for a shorter time if it is going to be frozen.

Recipe Notes

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Tiella (Southern Italian Vegetable and Pasta Casserole)

5 Comments

September 18, 2017

When I was growing up, we mostly socialized within the extended family plus a very few close family friends (that’s you, Joe and Betty Slivosky!).

It was a time (the 60’s) and place (small-town Western Pennsylvania) where it was rare to call in advance of a visit. One just showed up. This usually happened in the evening after dinner, though almost never on Monday or Thursday when the stores downtown were open until 9 PM and we dressed and went shopping after dinner.

Everyone would sit around (usually in the kitchen) drinking coffee (with caffeine), chatting…and smoking. Oh, the smoking! Occasionally the men would drink beer but unless it was a holiday or celebration of some sort, hard liquor was a rarity.

On Sundays, visiting frequently occurred (or at least started) in the afternoon and there might be two or three stops before heading home.

I can’t tell you how many times I heard the same stories. It’s one of the ways I developed a connection with family members, like my maternal grandparents, who died when I was very young.

To be sure, sometimes my cousin Donna and I would abandon the adults and pursue some childhood activity but we still hung out in the kitchen much of the time.

Often times the conversation would veer towards food; things my grandmother would make, the huge platters of cannoli one of my great aunts would make, what was eaten on holidays, and on and on.

There was the oft-repeated reminder of how my grandfather could come home late at night with a group of friends and how my grandmother would cook for them near midnight. There were stories of my grandmother cleaning and cooking chicken feet. My mother would talk about the time she killed a chicken in the basement and it got away from her and ran, headless, around the room. My father would remind everyone that the only food he didn’t like was gnocchi.

Food was a central feature of our lives.

So was conversation.

There were also times I would just sit in the kitchen and chat with my mother for hours. Relatives and food were common topics of conversation. There were dishes my grandmother made that I heard about over and over but never tasted because my mother never made them for some inexplicable reason. One of them was a quickly sautéed veal chop with a pan sauce made of the drippings in the pan, crushed canned tomatoes, peas, and seasonings. Back in the days when I cooked veal, I actually made it. Now I do it with pork chops.

The other dish that stands out in my memory from these conversations is Tiella. My mother talked of it frequently but never made it. The instructions were basic, a layer of pasta, a layer of potatoes, a layer of zucchini, and a can of tomatoes crushed by hand and poured on top. The whole thing was then baked. There wasn’t much of a discussion of which seasonings to use or proportions of ingredients. It was just assumed it would have garlic (of course it would have garlic) and the herbs that were commonly used in our family. Proportions…well…it just needed to look “right.”

For the number of times my mother rhapsodized about this dish, I can’t figure out why she never made it.

The first time I tried to make it was in the early 1990’s at our little house on Griffin Street in Santa Fe. That first time around, it didn’t live up to the hype, for sure, but it christened the house in an odd way.

In November 1992 my mother, my husband’s mother, and my husband’s grandmother traveled to Santa Fe with us for Thanksgiving week. We looked at property and fell for a little (1151 square foot) house on Griffin Street. My mother was terminally ill at the time. When we got back home, my mother insisted that we use her money for the down payment, which we did. She kept saying that she wanted to live long enough to return to that house in the spring. It didn’t happen. She died in early January.

All of the kitchen gear, china, and glassware for the house on Griffin came from my mother’s house. So, it was fitting that I should make this dish for the first time using my mother’s kitchenware in a house that we owned thanks to her.

It took me many years of working (off and on) on the seasonings and proportions to get it to taste great. (Well, I think it does.) The only real liberty I took with the dish is to use fresh tomatoes rather than canned when I make this in the summer.

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Tiella (Southern Italian Vegetable and Pasta Casserole)

This is a wonderful late summer dish when tomatoes are at their peak. If you make it at other times, use a 28 ounce can of whole tomatoes in place of the tomato puree and fresh tomatoes. Pour the liquid in the can over the potatoes instead of the puree. Crush the tomatoes by hand, add the seasonings described for fresh tomatoes, and arrange the crushed tomatoes on top.

Course

Mains, Sides, Vegetables, Vegetarian

Cuisine

Italian

Prep Time

1 hour

Cook Time

2 hours

Passive Time

30 minutes

Servings

people

Ingredients

5 ounces ditalini pasta
21 ounces russet potatoes peeled and sliced ¼ inch thick
22 ounces small zucchini peeled and sliced ½ inch thick
2 pounds ripe tomatoes sliced ⅓ inch thick
1 cup tomato puree preferably homemade (see note)
3/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
4 cloves garlic crushed
3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
4-5 cloves garlic minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary
3 tablespoons minced fresh oregano
1/4 cup fresh basil cut into chiffonade
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley
1 cup breadcrumbs made from day old Italian or French bread
salt
black pepper freshly ground

Course

Mains, Sides, Vegetables, Vegetarian

Cuisine

Italian

Prep Time

1 hour

Cook Time

2 hours

Passive Time

30 minutes

Servings

people

Ingredients

5 ounces ditalini pasta
21 ounces russet potatoes peeled and sliced ¼ inch thick
22 ounces small zucchini peeled and sliced ½ inch thick
2 pounds ripe tomatoes sliced ⅓ inch thick
1 cup tomato puree preferably homemade (see note)
3/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
4 cloves garlic crushed
3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
4-5 cloves garlic minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary
3 tablespoons minced fresh oregano
1/4 cup fresh basil cut into chiffonade
1/4 cup minced fresh parsley
1 cup breadcrumbs made from day old Italian or French bread
salt
black pepper freshly ground

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 350°F.
Combine the olive oil and crushed garlic in a small sauté pan. Sauté garlic until lightly browned. Remove the garlic and reserve the oil.
Put the raw ditalini in the bottom of a deep, circular casserole, approximately 10 inches in diameter. The pasta should form a single layer with a fair amount of extra room for it to expand.
Add 2 tablespoons of Parmesan cheese, ¼ of the minced garlic, and 2 tablespoons of the garlic oil and mix well.
In a bowl, toss the sliced potatoes with half the rosemary, ⅓ of the oregano, ¼ of the basil, 2 tablespoons of Parmesan cheese, ¼ of the minced garlic, 2 tablespoons of the garlic oil, and a generous amount of salt and pepper.
Arrange the potatoes neatly in overlapping layers on top of the ditalini. Do not wash the bowl.
Season the tomato puree with salt and pour over the potatoes.
In the same bowl used for the potatoes, toss the zucchini with the remaining oregano, ¼ of the basil, the remaining rosemary, 2 tablespoons of Parmesan cheese, ¼ of the minced garlic, 2 tablespoons of the garlic oil, and a generous amount of salt and pepper.
Arrange the zucchini on top of the potatoes. Do not wash the bowl.
Neatly arrange half the tomatoes on top of the zucchini. Season with half the remaining minced garlic, half the remaining basil, and salt and pepper.
Arrange the remaining tomatoes on top and season with salt and pepper as well as the remaining garlic, basil, and all the parsley.
Put the tiella in the preheated oven.
Remove the crusts from several slices of day-old Italian or French bread. Whiz the bread in a food processor to make coarse crumbs.
While the tiella bakes, toss the breadcrumbs with the remaining garlic oil in the bowl used for the potatoes and zucchini.
After the tiella has baked for 90 minutes, sprinkle the oiled crumbs on top and bake till golden, approximately 30 minutes more.
Allow to rest at least 30 minutes before serving. The tiella can be served warm or at room temperature. It can also be reheated in the oven briefly before serving, if desired.

Recipe Notes

Here’s the link for my recipe for homemade tomato puree (passata di pomodoro).

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Recipes

Angie’s Pickled Hot Peppers

8 Comments

September 13, 2017

With one set of grandparents and many relatives hailing from Southern Italy, hot peppers and foods containing hot peppers were staple features of the cuisine I grew up eating.

Hot sausage, with fennel seed, was frequently on our table and, since it was often homemade by Uncle Joe Medile, it could be as hot as we wanted. When it wasn’t Uncle Joe’s sausage, it would typically have been from Lopresti’s Market in Geistown, a suburb of Johnstown, PA.

Spicy foods more often showed up at lunch, though. There was spicy salumi, including Calabrese salami, capocollo (of which there are several types but in our house it was always the spicy one), and sopressata, among others.

There were hot banana peppers fried until tender, usually with onions. The fried peppers could be a condiment or they could be used as the filling for a sandwich. Fried hot pepper sandwiches are still one of my favorite lunchtime treats!

There were various pickled, spicy vegetables like giardineria and pickled peppers of various types. These were usually store-bought except for my cousin Angie’s pickled hot peppers.

Angie is the daughter of my mother’s oldest sister. Angie, however, was born six months before my mother. It’s kind of interesting to think about the fact that my grandmother was pregnant with my mother at the same time that my grandmother’s daughter was pregnant with Angie.

Despite their inverted ages, Angie always called my mother Aunt Theresa.

Angie’s mom, my Aunt Rosie, died at a young age. I never knew her. Aunt Rosie’s husband, Uncle Dominic lived with their other daughter, Marie.

Uncle Dominic grew vegetables, including hot peppers, in the back yard. He’s the one who taught me about fried hot pepper sandwiches for which I am eternally grateful!

Usually I would make Angie’s Pickled Hot Peppers with Italian Banana Peppers but fresh New Mexico Green Chile is far more abundant in Santa Fe than Banana Peppers and the substitution works just fine. Years past, when we lived in Chicago and grew lots of peppers, I would even make these with jalapeno peppers.

These peppers are a breeze to make, just some slicing and dicing and pulling together a quick pickle. No actual canning or processing is required. They will keep for months and months in the refrigerator.

The recipe calls for a peck of peppers. A peck is an interesting measure. It is eight dry quarts. A dry quart, however, is not the same as a liquid quart (unless you use the British Imperial system in which case a dry quart and a liquid quart are the same volume but not the same volume as any quart used in America).

Confused? Oh how I wish we used the metric system!!!

A dry quart is slightly larger than a liquid quart. Eight dry quarts equals 9 1/3 liquid quarts. If you go to a farmers market, chances are you’ve seen produce displayed in baskets that are one peck in size. Not to worry, though. First off, the measurements aren’t that critical for this recipe, so plus or minus a quart (dry or liquid) isn’t a big deal. Second, if you have any type of large container, pot, or bucket marked in liquid measure, just fill it up a little beyond the 9 (liquid) quart mark and you’ll be good to go.

If you’re buying peppers in the supermarket and don’t want to carry a bucket to measure a peck, I suggest buying approximately four pounds of banana peppers. I found that amount of New Mexico Green Chile came very close to a peck when I measured it out.

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Angie's Pickled Hot Peppers

Though usually made with hot Italian Banana Peppers, I made this batch with hot New Mexico Green Chile which is far easier to source in Santa Fe than are large quantities of Banana Peppers. Four pounds of peppers should come pretty close to a peck. A peck is 8 dry quarts which is the equivalent of 9 1/3 liquid quarts. If there isn’t enough pickling liquid to fully submerge the peppers, make a little extra following the proportions in the recipe. These peppers will keep well in the refrigerator for many months. Try to let them mellow at least a couple of days before eating them…if you can!

Course

Canning and Preserving, Food Preservation

Cuisine

Italian

Prep Time

75 minutes

Passive Time

8 hours

Servings

quarts

Ingredients

1 peck hot banana peppers
6 stalks celery
1 quart apple cider vinegar
3 cups water
2 cups vegetable oil preferably canola
3 large cloves garlic minced
1/4 cup salt preferably canning and pickling salt
1/4 cup dry oregano

Course

Canning and Preserving, Food Preservation

Cuisine

Italian

Prep Time

75 minutes

Passive Time

8 hours

Servings

quarts

Ingredients

1 peck hot banana peppers
6 stalks celery
1 quart apple cider vinegar
3 cups water
2 cups vegetable oil preferably canola
3 large cloves garlic minced
1/4 cup salt preferably canning and pickling salt
1/4 cup dry oregano

Instructions

Wash and dry the peppers.
Cut off the stem ends.
Cut the peppers crosswise into rings a little more than 1/8 inch thick.
Cut the celery into ¼ inch dice.
In a non-reactive container large enough to hold all the ingredients, combine the vinegar, water, oil, garlic, salt, and oregano. Mix well.
Add the sliced peppers and diced celery.
Mix thoroughly. Cover and allow to sit at room temperature for 8 hours or overnight.
Using a slotted spoon, ladle the peppers and celery into clean jars.
Once the jars are filled, ladle the pickling liquid into the jars. Mix the liquid well with each ladleful so that you get the right proportions of vinegar/water and oil.
If there is not quite enough liquid to cover the peppers make a small amount more using the same proportions.
Cover and refrigerate until ready to use.