Auntie Helen’s Roman Chicken Cacciatore

Pollo alla Cacciatora (Chicken Cacciatore, in English) means Chicken Hunter’s Style and there are as many styles as there are hunters and cooks.

I grew up eating a Southern Italian version in a red sauce with peppers and mushrooms.

This recipe, using anchovies and no vegetables, is from Rome and goes back to the late 1800’s at least.  I learned it from Auntie Helen.  Auntie Helen was actually the aunt of Eugene (Gene) d’Aquili, my undergraduate advisor at the University of Pennsylvania and the psychiatrist with whom I set up my psychiatric practice in Philadelphia many years later.

Gene’s grandparents left Rome around the turn of the 20th century and moved to Trenton, New Jersey with their four children, Guido, Helen, Louise and a fourth daughter who died shortly after the move.

Gene’s father, Guido, was an artist and part of what was sometimes referred to as the New Hope School after a town of the same name in Pennsylvania on the New Jersey border.  He painted a series of Old King Cole murals similar to the ones Maxfield Parrish painted for the St. Regis in New York City.

Those murals ended up on the walls of my dining room in Berwyn, Pennsylvania.  For several years, from early medical school until partway through my internship, I rented the carriage house on the d’Aquili estate in Berwyn.  The murals were installed in the dining room after the d’Aquili family purchased them from the social club in Trenton that had originally commissioned them.

Here are some pictures of the murals.

There is a blog that features the murals and information about them, if you’re interested.

Here is a picture of my parents, standing in front of one of the murals in my dining room.  I believe this was taken in May 1981 when I graduated medical school.

Auntie Helen and Auntie Louise never married.  They both became school teachers and lived in Morrisville, New Jersey until the early 1980’s when they moved into the carriage house on the d’Aquili estate that I vacated after I bought my first house.

Auntie Helen was a wonderful cook.  This recipe for pollo alla cacciatora came from her, and before her, from her mother.  Don’t let the anchovies put you off, even if you don’t like anchovies.  The “fishiness” cooks away leaving a savory, umami flavor.  I will bet you that none of your guests will guess that there are anchovies in this dish.

In addition to her other wonderful Italian specialties, including brodetto, panpeppato, and cheese bread, the last of which unfortunately I do not have a recipe, among others, Auntie Helen made some American dishes that were fashionable at the time including Impossible Tuna Pie!

I want to give a shout out to Julie Paradise for reintroducing me to Impossible Pies.  Julie is the master of the genre and her pecan version is going to end up on my table soon!


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Roman Chicken Cacciatore
As an alternative to cutting up a whole chicken, chicken parts can be used. Thighs work particularly well for the long, slow cooking technique. If using chicken parts, use about 3 pounds. This chicken goes well with polenta. I suggest using yellow cornmeal for a color contrast with the dark sauce. A link to my polenta recipe can be found in the Notes section following the recipe.
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Course Mains, Poultry
Cuisine Italian
Prep Time 15 minutes
Cook Time 2 hours
Servings
people
Ingredients
Course Mains, Poultry
Cuisine Italian
Prep Time 15 minutes
Cook Time 2 hours
Servings
people
Ingredients
Votes: 0
Rating: 0
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Instructions
  1. Cut the chicken into pieces, legs, thighs, and breasts. You can cut the breasts in half crosswise if you like. Reserve the back and wings for another use.
  2. Remove the skin from the chicken.
  3. Bruise the garlic with the side of a chef's knife.
  4. In a skillet large enough to comfortably hold the chicken, and that has a lid, heat the olive oil until it is almost smoking.
  5. Add the chicken. Do not disturb the chicken until it is crusted and releases easily from the pan, 4-5 minutes.
  6. Turn the chicken over. Add the bruised garlic to the pan. Brown the other side of the chicken, adjusting the heat as necessary to prevent the olive oil from smoking.
  7. If the garlic starts getting dark brown, remove it before it burns. Reserve the browned garlic, however.
  8. When the chicken is well browned on all sides (legs don’t really have “sides” so you will need to turn them around a bit), add the anchovies and their oil. They will splatter a bit.
  9. Work the anchovies with a spoon so they start to disintegrate.
  10. Have the cover ready. Turn the heat to low. Add the water and quickly cover the pan to reduce splattering. Wait 2-3 minutes until the rapid sizzling has slowed down.
  11. Turn the chicken. Add the vinegar and return the browned garlic to the pan if you removed it earlier. If the water has evaporated when you remove the lid to add the vinegar, add another two tablespoons of water along with the vinegar and garlic. Add oregano and season with salt and pepper, to taste.
  12. Braise covered for 1 ½ to 2 hours on gentle heat, turning every 20-30 minutes. Add water, two tablespoons at a time, whenever the liquid in the pan has evaporated.
  13. Add an extra grinding of pepper before removing the chicken from the heat. Adjust salt if necessary.
Recipe Notes

Here is my recipe for Polenta.

Copyright © 2017 by VillaSentieri.com. All rights reserved.

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Polenta

July 24, 2017

Polenta isn’t traditionally a Southern Italian food.  It is a staple of Italy’s northern provinces, however.

I didn’t eat polenta until I was in college; the time of my greatest food exploration and experimentation.

Granted, Northern Italian food isn’t as far afield from the Southern Italian food I grew up with as are the Sri Lankan, Chinese, Bangladeshi, Filipino, and West Indian food that were a large part of my food exploration in college.

Even when I stayed within the bounds of European food, I could move close to the edge.

For example, my roommate worked in an anesthesia research lab.  Rabbit blood was used for experiments, so rabbit ended up on our menu regularly (as it did on the menus of other lab workers).  Those rabbits became the impetus for learning to make Hasenpfeffer the traditional way.

Read any Hasenpfeffer recipe now, and you will be instructed to marinate the rabbit in an acidic marinade in the refrigerator.  But refrigeration is a recent invention in the history of Hasenpfeffer.

My culinary endeavors at that point operated out of a six-foot-wide Pullman kitchen with an under-counter refrigerator in a dormitory apartment.  My roommate and I turned out major meals every day of the week.  We had two shopping days, one to the open-air Ninth Street market in Philadelphia (aka the “Italian Market”) and one to the Pathmark Supermarket in Broomall, PA.  The supermarkets around the University did not have the best selection or quality at that time.

Our little refrigerator was always packed like a jigsaw puzzle.  (Just ask my husband about my ability to pack a suitcase and it will give you some idea of how I packed that little fridge!)

That meant, however, that there was never any room to refrigerate a marinating rabbit.  I turned to the age-old method and marinated it at room temperature for two days before cooking it.  By the end of that year of college I turned out a pretty decent Hasenpfeffer.

Then there was the Guyanese version of an originally Portuguese dish, called Garlic Pork in Guyana.  Versions of the dish can still be found in Portugal and in former Portuguese-controlled areas like Goa in India.  In Guyanese Garlic Pork, cubes of pork are marinated in vinegar seasoned with lots of Scotch Bonnet peppers and thyme.  As you can imagine, given our refrigerator situation, the marinating took place at room temperature.

All this marinating happened in what were then (in the 1970’s) vintage British apothecary jars that I brought back from Guyana.  Every household in Guyana had one or more of these jars and they were the standard vessel for marinating Garlic Pork.  They also work well for Hasenpfeffer!

I still have these jars and really prize them.

Vintage British Apothecary Jars

Meat marinating in a jar can be pretty unobtrusive.  Not so a duck, head and feet intact, strung up from an eye hook in the ceiling!

My roommate’s mother, of Chinese heritage, sent us a sheaf of her recipes that she neatly typed out on onion skin paper.  (I still have them.)  One of the recipes was for a home-style version of Peking Duck.  The duck had to hang at room temperature for a day, being periodically lacquered with a mixture of soy sauce and other ingredients before roasting.  The duck, hung right inside the door, greeted visitors to our dormitory apartment for the better part of a day.

By comparison, learning to make Northern Italian food was pretty tame.  Enter Marcella Hazan (via her first cookbook) to teach me the basics.  She was demanding when it came to making polenta, insisting that it be stirred non-stop for 45 minutes.

Honestly, I did it that way until sometime in 1996 when my mother-in-law convinced me that constant stirring was not needed.  It’s much easier to make polenta if one just stirs periodically.  And the best thing is, it WORKS!

On a trip to Italy with my in-laws I bought a traditional unlined copper polenta pot.  I don’t know if it makes better polenta than an ordinary pot but I love using it.

My Unlined Copper Polenta Pot

The traditional implement for stirring polenta is a round wooden paddle.  On the left, below, is the one my mother-in-law’s father made for her.  On the right is a paddle I picked up at the Otovalo market in Ecuador more than 20 years ago.  I prefer it to the stick as it provides more “action” in the pot.  (Truth be told, my mother-in-law prefers it too!)

Implements for Stirring Polenta

While yellow and white cornmeal are traditional, in New Mexico I can get blue cornmeal which I like to use for its dramatic color.

Cornmeal should be gently showered into the boiling water while stirring.  Fine cornmeal tends to develop lumps more easily than coarse cornmeal.  In this video, I am using coarse cornmeal and can therefore add it more quickly.


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Polenta
In Italy, cornmeal used for polenta is either white or yellow. In New Mexico I have access to blue cornmeal. The blue cornmeal turns purple when cooked in unlined copper. It provides a nice contrast on the plate. There really are not many purple foods! I find that it takes more water to cook polenta at high altitude. I use 5 cups of water for every cup of cornmeal. At sea level 4 ½ cups would work fine. Coarse cornmeal takes a bit more water than fine cornmeal. Both are traditional. It is a matter of personal preference which to use. Polenta is traditionally accompanied by a dish that has a sauce. Sausage with Cardoons is a good choice. See the Notes section for a link to the recipe.
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Prep Time 5 minutes
Cook Time 50 minutes
Passive Time 15 minutes
Servings
people
Ingredients
  • 1 cup cornmeal coarse or fine, preferably artisanal
  • 4 1/2 to 5 cups water
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
Prep Time 5 minutes
Cook Time 50 minutes
Passive Time 15 minutes
Servings
people
Ingredients
  • 1 cup cornmeal coarse or fine, preferably artisanal
  • 4 1/2 to 5 cups water
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons salt
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Instructions
  1. Bring water and salt to a boil in a saucepan that will give you plenty of room to stir.
  2. Slowly shower in the cornmeal, stirring all the while. You should basically be able to see the individual grains as you add the cornmeal. This will help to avoid lumps. If you notice a lump, stop adding cornmeal and stir vigorously to break up the lump. Using a wire whisk to vigorously stir the water while adding the cornmeal also helps to avoid lumps. After all the cornmeal is added, change to a sturdy wooden spoon.
  3. After all the cornmeal is added, cook at a moderately low boil for 45-60 minutes stirring often. Coarse cornmeal takes longer to cook than fine cornmeal. That said, 45 minutes should be the minimum cooking time. The flavor changes with extended cooking so don’t be tempted to treat polenta like grits and cook it briefly.
  4. If you find that the polenta is getting too stiff before the cooking time is up, add a little bit of BOILING water and stir well.
  5. When cooked, the polenta should be thick but pourable and definitely not runny.
  6. Pour into a shallow serving bowl or rimmed platter and serve immediately.
  7. A bowl of more traditional yellow polenta.
Recipe Notes

Click here for the recipe for Sausage with Cardoons.

Copyright © 2017 by VillaSentieri.com. All rights reserved.

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Mom’s Potatoes with Tomato Sauce

July 19, 2017

Pasta.  Potatoes.  Bread.

I crave carbohydrates.  I can go about three to four days without eating pasta before I start to really crave it.

Funny, because we only had pasta about once or twice a week while I was growing up.

We did, however, have potatoes on many of the intervening days.

Sometimes we’d have gnocchi (little pasta dumplings made with potatoes and flour) or pierogi (pasta stuffed with potatoes)!  Though there are many other pierogi fillings, potato and cheese was the preferred variation in our house.

Once, when I hadn’t been home from college for a while, I asked my mom to make either pierogi or baba (sometimes Anglicized to bubba) for me for dinner.  She made both.  There wasn’t a piece of meat in sight.  She knew me all too well.  Meanwhile, the two college friends who came home with me were aghast at the absence of meat…and vegetables for that matter!

Americans, by and large, are not protein deficient so the occasional meal without meat or another major protein source isn’t an issue.

My mom’s potatoes with tomato sauce were usually served alongside sausage.  Typically, it would be hot Italian fennel sausage that was browned in a skillet then braised slowly with some water to tenderize it.

If we were having kielbasa, the second most common sausage in our house, my mom would make a version of these potatoes without the tomato sauce.  She’d get the potatoes good and brown and then cover the pan for a bit to trap the moisture and tenderize the potatoes without making them mushy.

Since my mom made a big pot of slow-cooked Southern Italian sugo most every Sunday, there was a ready supply of homemade tomato sauce for these potatoes.  In my house, unfortunately, I don’t make that kind of sauce often enough (though I plan on changing that) and it always seems like a luxury to use some of it for these potatoes as opposed to putting the sauce on pasta.

I have found, however, that my uncooked pizza sauce works well.  In a pinch canned or bottled tomato puree is good too (or even one of those 8 ounce cans of tomato “sauce”).  If using canned puree, add a pinch or two of oregano for flavor.

While Italian versions of potatoes cooked in tomato sauce usually end up being more “saucy,” this Italian-American version turns the tomato sauce into little more than a coating on the potatoes.


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Mom's Potatoes with Tomato Sauce
This variation on home-fried potatoes was common in our house. Cooking potatoes in tomato sauce is very Italian but this variation, which includes bell pepper and onion, and where the tomato sauce is basically cooked away, is more Italian-American. The tomato sauce could be leftover homemade pasta sauce (without meat) or pizza sauce. It can also be canned tomato puree. If using puree, I suggest adding a few pinches of dried oregano for flavor.
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Rating: 5
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Prep Time 15 minutes
Cook Time 75 minutes
Servings
people
Ingredients
Prep Time 15 minutes
Cook Time 75 minutes
Servings
people
Ingredients
Votes: 1
Rating: 5
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Instructions
  1. Peel the potatoes. Cut them crosswise into ¼ inch thick slices.
  2. Cut the bell pepper into 1/3 inch dice.
  3. Dice the onion.
  4. Heat oil over medium-high heat in a 12 inch skillet.
  5. When the oil is hot, add the potatoes. The potatoes should start sizzling immediately. Season the potatoes with 1 teaspoon of salt and a generous amount of freshly ground black pepper. Do not stir the potatoes just yet.
  6. Allow the potatoes to brown on the bottom.
  7. These are getting browner on the bottom but not ready to turn yet.
  8. When the potatoes on the bottom have turned golden brown, use a spatula to flip and separate them.
  9. When approximately 1/3 of the potatoes are browned, add the bell pepper.
  10. Continue cooking, allowing the potatoes on the bottom to brown more before flipping and separating, until about ½ of the potatoes are browned and the bell pepper is just beginning to char.
  11. Add the onion.
  12. Continue cooking until the potatoes are nicely browned and the onion is golden. Adjust the heat as needed to prevent the potatoes and onions from burning, though a few dark spots won’t be a problem.
  13. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
  14. Add the tomato sauce to the potatoes. Mix well.
  15. Reduce the heat to low and cook, uncovered, until the potatoes are tender, but not mushy, stirring occasionally. Approximately 45-60 minutes more. The tomato sauce should have pretty much completely evaporated, leaving the potatoes coated in red.
  16. The potatoes ready to serve.
Recipe Notes

Copyright © 2017 by VillaSentieri.com. All rights reserved.

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Equipment Corner: Bread Machine

July 17, 2017

In several posts, I’ve mentioned how useful my bread machine is for mixing dough and baking bread for daily use based on the recipe I grew up eating.

When I mention this to friends, I frequently hear that they got rid of their bread machines because they didn’t work well or weren’t useful.

This perplexes me as I have found my bread machine to be a real asset in the kitchen.  I am not one to buy small appliances without a lot of thought and research.

I demand much from the small appliances that I purchase.  They have to 1) perform their task well, improving on, or at least maintaining, the quality of the food that I would turn out without the machine and 2) save time or add an appreciable level of convenience.  I won’t settle for one or the other.

My Zojirushi BB-PAC20 meets both criteria.

Zojirushi BB-PAC20 Bread Machine

On any given day, it takes me less than five minutes to measure and add the ingredients for a loaf of bread.  From that point on, it is totally hands-off, allowing me to attend to other tasks.  The machine has more than paid for itself in savings over the cost of buying good-quality bread at the market or bakery.

Zojirushi BB-PAC20 Control Panel

It also does a great job of mixing dough.  I use this feature frequently for making pizza dough and focaccia.  I have some recipes involving biga (an Italian starter that is made in advance of the actual bread making) that I am going to try to convert to the bread machine.

Older bread machines often had a square baking pan.  The pan in my Zojirushi bread maker measures 8 3/4″ x 5″ x 5″ and makes what would nominally be called a two-pound loaf.

Zojirushi BB-PAC20 Baking Pan

Like all bread machines, it leaves holes in the bottom of the loaf from the paddles.  For home use, I don’t find this to be a problem.  If I’m using the loaf for company, I save the slices that have a divot missing from the bottom for non-company use.

Inside the Zojirushi BB-PAC20 Baking Pan

If you’ve got a bread machine collecting dust, give it a try on the dough cycle, making either my pizza dough or focaccia.  As always, post a comment if you have any questions or to let me know how it turns out.


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Carne Adovada (Pork Braised in Red Chile Sauce)

July 14, 2017

I am a chile head.

I also like coaxing a tremendous amount of flavor out of a small number of ingredients (though I don’t shy away from recipes with long ingredient lists either!).

I am a big fan of dishes that can be made in advance and warmed up for serving.  Carne Adovada actually tastes better if it is refrigerated for a day or two.

For all of these reasons, Carne Adovada is an ideal dish for me.  It is, bar none, my favorite New Mexican dish.

However, it isn’t necessary to use hot or extra-hot red chile.  If you’re not a fan of spicy foods, use mild or medium-hot chile.  What is critical is that you use actual New Mexico dried red chile.

New Mexican Red Chile Pods

Although I rode in a car along route 66 in the 1960s to visit an uncle in Los Angeles, I never spent any appreciable time in New Mexico until August 1991.   Just days into that week-long visit to Santa Fe, I had Carne Adovada at Maria’s Restaurant.

I was hooked!

I was also enchanted by Santa Fe, as was my husband.  By late 1992 we put in an offer on our first house in Santa Fe.  The offer was accepted and we closed in January 1993.  Thus began our love affair with Santa Fe.

We moved to Santa Fe full time in 2012 but we spent considerable time in Santa Fe every year until then (about ten times per year including all major holidays).

I was never happy with any Carne Adovada recipe that I tried, and I tried plenty, until I stumbled on a recipe from Al Lucero, the former owner of Maria’s Restaurant, in the program book for Santa Fe Wine and Chile Fiesta a number of years ago.

In times past, when a hog was butchered in the fall, some of the meat was preserved in red chile.  This chile-infused meat was later braised to become Carne Adovada.  I don’t know of anyone who cures pork this way any longer but many recipes for Carne Adovada call for marinating the pork overnight in the red chile.  This would seem to be closer to the traditional method, though simply marinating the meat would not produce the additional flavor that would come from actually curing the pork in the chile.  Some recipes, though a minority in my experience, call for the addition of vinegar to the marinade to try to achieve more of a “cured” or “fermented” flavor.

Al Lucero’s approach is different but definitely creates an extra layer of flavor.  The pork cubes are roasted first then braised in red chile.  Refrigerating the completed Carne Adovada for a day or two before serving improves the flavor even more.

What I especially like about Al’s method is that it does not introduce any non-traditional ingredients to the Carne Adovada.  Until I can taste Carne Adovada made from pork that is actually cured in red chile, I’m sticking with my tweaked version of Al’s method.

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Carne Adovada (Braised Pork with Red Chile)
The purity of the chile flavor is key to Carne Adovada so I avoid putting in other seasonings such as onion and oregano that are sometimes called for. This recipe, based on a recipe of Al Lucero, the former owner of Maria’s Restaurant in Santa Fe, roasts the pork first for a depth of flavor not obtainable otherwise. Remove any large pieces of fat from the pork but thin layers of fat between the meat are needed to ensure moist and tender pork, so don’t remove it all. I frequently buy a bone-in pork shoulder (aka pork butt) and use the bone to make broth.
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Course Mains, Meats
Prep Time 30 minutes
Cook Time 5 hours
Servings
people
Ingredients
Pork
Red Chile Sauce
Course Mains, Meats
Prep Time 30 minutes
Cook Time 5 hours
Servings
people
Ingredients
Pork
Red Chile Sauce
Votes: 0
Rating: 0
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Instructions
  1. Cut the pork into one inch cubes.
  2. Toss the pork with the garlic powder, and salt.
  3. Put the meat in a wide shallow baking/roasting pan that has a lid and roast at 450°F, uncovered, until well browned, turning every 20 minutes or so, approximately 90 minutes.
  4. While the pork is roasting, make the red chile sauce using the proportions of ingredients called for above and following the directions in the Red Chile blog post. See the "Notes" section below for the link. There is some rendered fat in the pan. Do not discard the fat, it carries lots of flavor and improves the mouth feel of the sauce.
  5. Beginning to brown.
  6. Tossed after the top has browned.
  7. Almost brown enough.
  8. Browned and ready for the chile. Note that the liquid has all evaporated and created a brown fond in the pan. This gives extra flavor.
  9. When pork is browned, add all the red chile sauce without draining any of the juices out of the pan.
  10. Cook, covered, at 250°F for approximately 3-4 hours or until meat is very tender, stirring occasionally.
  11. Remove the meat from the oven. Allow it to cool to room temperature.
  12. Cover tightly and refrigerate overnight.
  13. Reheat the carne adovada, covered, at 250°F for approximately 2 hours. If the sauce is not thick enough, reheat uncovered at a somewhat higher temperature until the sauce is thickened.
  14. This plate contains carne adovada, red rice, frijoles (beans), and calabacitas) (zucchini, corn, and roasted green chile).
Recipe Notes

Here's where you can find the directions for making Red Chile Sauce.

Copyright © 2017 by VillaSentieri.com. All rights reserved.

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Frittata con Cipolle (Frittata with Onions)

July 10, 2017

American chefs frequently do not understand Italian food.  Many can produce technically excellent dishes that lack the Italian sensibility.

One common error is putting in too much.  Too much of most anything into most anything.  To be sure, there are many restaurants headed by American chefs that serve excellent Italian food but there are far more that just don’t get it.

The usual culprit is what Italians would call the First Course, Il Primo Piatto.  This is soup, pasta or rice that is served as a separate course before the the Second Course, Il Secondo Piatto (usually meat, fish, or other protein), which is usually accompanied by side dishes, Contorni, in Italian.

Pasta “specials” are quite prone to this phenomenon.  There are many otherwise excellent restaurants that think that if a little is good, more is better, when it comes to their pasta “specials.”  Because I love pasta, if I’m at a restaurant that has a pasta special I always ask what it is.  More often than not, I start yawning (well, not really) part way through the list of ingredients added to the pasta.  After more than 2 or 3 main ingredients (not counting things like garlic, olive oil, and a few herbs) it’s too much.  You don’t need shrimp, artichoke hearts, chopped tomato, diced onion, roasted peppers, capers, and olives.  It’s simply too much.  The distinctiveness of the ingredients is lost.

I’m ragging on pasta because that is the most common culprit at American restaurants featuring “Italian” food.  Risotto and polenta are prone to the same phenomenon, however.  The most common offense is that both of these dishes are turned into vehicles for butter, cream, and cheese.  That is not what an Italian would do.  In a typical Italian household, polenta is cornmeal, water and salt.  That’s it.  There’s not usually a pat of butter or a spoon of cheese in sight unless added at the table to the diner’s preference but even that is rare.  The polenta is a foil for whatever is served with it.  It is not meant to scream, “Look at me!”  That doesn’t mean it isn’t supposed to, or doesn’t, taste good.  It’s not intended to be so rich and filling that it tries to steal the spotlight or dampen one’s appetite for the rest of the meal.

Unlike polenta, which is meant to accompany other dishes, risotto is meant to stand on its own as a First Course before the Second Course.  Risotto alla Milanese is the only exception.  Traditionally Risotto alla Milanese accompanies a veal cutlet (in Milan, of course).  No other risotto would be served with the second course in an Italian meal.

I realize that most of the time we do not eat a formal Italian meal, even in a restaurant.  Most of us have either what would be the first course (pasta or risotto, usually) or the second course (meat or fish plus a side dish or two), preceded by some sort of antipasto (appetizer), which literally means “before the pasta.”  Even so a risotto that is a fat “bomb” overly laden with butter, cream and/or cheese, might be American but it is simply not Italian in its sensibility.

Frequently, the issue is clouded even more but the addition of too many ingredients to the risotto.  Look at the asparagus risotto from a few weeks ago.  There are no competing flavors:  a light broth to add some savoriness, a bit of Parmigiano Reggiano, and a dollop of butter.  This is a classically Italian risotto.

I guess I’m really beating this one.  I clearly have strong feelings about Italian food and what passes for Italian food in America.  Think purity of flavor and simplicity of ingredients.  If an ingredient doesn’t support the main ingredient it shouldn’t be added.  I believe Italian food is the original “ingredient-driven” cuisine.

Ok, off my soap box an on to a recipe; one that is the essence of simplicity.

I’m going to guess that most of you have not had a frittata.  It is a fluffy but firm egg dish, usually with some sort of vegetable included.  Sometimes a sprinkling of Parmigiano Reggiano or Pecorino Romano cheese is added but only if it supports the vegetable that is the star of the show.

Today’s frittata is onion.  That’s it, onion.  Plus a little olive oil and salt and pepper.  The onion is cooked slowly until it caramelizes.  The onion in this recipe was cooked for 50 minutes.  You should plan on 45-50.  It is mostly hands off, though you do need to stir every few minutes.

Once the eggs are added, they are cooked slowly.  Unlike a French omelet where the eggs are barely set and there isn’t (supposed to be) a touch of brown, a frittata is intended to be firm, slightly brown, and puffed up and airy from the cooking style.

Although I have converted to making, almost exclusively, a classic Italian frittata, when I was in college I did it the way my Italian Grandmother did.  She included a pinch of baking powder and a bit of flour.  It was a little firmer than a classic frittata; more like a savory eggy cake.

That frittata, alternating with sandwiches of butter, onion and blue cheese on homemade bread (not on the same day), constitute my lunchtime memories from my junior year in college.


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Frittata con Cipolle (Frittata with Onions)
I recommend NOT finishing the frittata under the broiler as called for by a number of food writers. First, it isn’t traditional. Second, if the frittata doesn’t slide out of the pan easily so that it can be flipped, you won’t be able to get it out of the pan to serve it after putting it under the broiler. I like using a good quality, heavy-bottomed, non-stick pan though a well-seasoned cast iron pan would work too. It is easier to get the frittata out of the pan if it has sloping sides rather that sides that are completely vertical. You can caramelize the onions several hours in advance and then complete the frittata later.
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Prep Time 10 minutes
Cook Time 1 1/2 hours
Servings
people
Ingredients
Prep Time 10 minutes
Cook Time 1 1/2 hours
Servings
people
Ingredients
Votes: 0
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Instructions
  1. Slice the onion in half from top to bottom then across into 1/8 inch thick half-rounds.
  2. Warm the olive oil in a 12 inch heavy-bottomed sauté pan with sloping sides.
  3. Add the sliced onion and ½ teaspoon of salt.
  4. Cook over medium heat, stirring often until the onions are soft and caramelized. The onions should take on a uniform golden, then light brown, color. There should not be any dark brown or dry spots. This will take between 45 and 50 minutes. If it takes longer don’t worry. If it seems to happen in less time, the heat is probably too high.
  5. This picture was taken 15 minutes after the onions were added.
  6. This picture was taken 30 minutes after the onions were added.
  7. This picture was taken 45 minutes after the onions were added.
  8. This picture was taken 50 minutes after the onions were added. They are appropriately caramelized.
  9. While the onions are cooking, beat the eggs with a fork. Do not use an egg whip. The idea is not to beat in air but to uniformly combine the whites and yolks. Season with the remaining ¼ teaspoon of salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.
  10. When the onions are fully caramelized, be sure there is an even slick of oil in the bottom of the pan. If not, add a tablespoon or so more.
  11. Turn the heat to medium high and evenly distribute the caramelized onions on the bottom of the sauté pan.
  12. Pour the beaten eggs on top of the onions, being sure to distribute the eggs evenly. DO NOT STIR THE EGGS once they are added to the pan. Immediately cover the pan and turn the heat to low.
  13. Cook until the eggs are just set in the middle and golden brown on the bottom, approximately 30 minutes. Move the pan around so that the heat is evenly distributed, including putting the pan off-center occasionally so there is heat directly on the edges of the pan, not just concentrated in the middle.
  14. When the eggs are just set in the center, the frittata should release easily from the pan. Sometimes it is helpful to run a silicone spatula around the edge of the frittata to help it release.
  15. Slide the frittata out of the pan and onto a large pizza pan.
  16. Invert the pan over the frittata.
  17. Grasp the sauté pan and pizza pan with both hands and flip them over in one quick motion.
  18. Put the sauté pan, with the now-upside-down frittata, back on the heat, uncovered, for about 5 minutes until the bottom of the frittata is golden brown.
  19. Slide the frittata onto a serving platter.
Recipe Notes

Copyright © 2017 by VillaSentieri.com. All rights reserved.

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Pasta with Silky Zucchini Sauce

July 5, 2017

Pasta tossed with a sauce of some sort of vegetable cooked in olive oil is an Italian classic.  My mother frequently used either eggplant or zucchini, cooked them until they became very soft, and then tossed them with pasta.

I have one very vivid memory of this dish and it goes back to the summer of 1992.

After my mother was diagnosed with metastatic lung cancer in early summer 1992, she came to live with us.  Until the last few days of her life in early January 1993, she took over our kitchen, a very comfortable role for her.

Over the years prior to her diagnosis, she had become friendly with our next door neighbor, Carla.  During the last six months of her life she and Carla spent hours every day visiting and chatting.  This was a wonderful arrangement as my husband, Frank, and I were working long hours.  (It also led, through a number of interesting steps, to Frank and I becoming the god-parents for one of Carla and Billy’s children a few years later.  But that’s a story for a different day.)

Frank had very long work hours a couple days per week.  He rarely got home before 10 PM on those days.  My mother and I would eat dinner earlier and then she would set aside his food.

But she did more than that.

When he got home, she always warmed up his dinner and then sat with him at the table while he ate.  She never let him eat alone.  Most likely, I was upstairs in bed.  Since I got up earlier than Frank, I tried to be in bed by 10 PM to watch the news and go to sleep.

For some reason, the plate of pasta with zucchini sitting on the counter one evening to be warmed up for Frank’s dinner, knowing my mother would sit with him as he ate, is the mental image I have of this dish.  I can’t make this without that image appearing in my mind.  I think somehow that dish, made of very humble ingredients, came to represent the best of my mother’s nurturing characteristics.

She was a fierce advocate for her children.  My sister and I both started school a year early because my mother thought we were intellectually ready (she was right) and she wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer from the school authorities.

Once, in second grade, my sister arrived home with the hem of her school uniform let down because one of the nuns thought it was too short.  My mother promptly hemmed it, even shorter, and sent my sister to school the next day without ever saying a word.  The hemline stayed put.

You didn’t mess with my mother where her children were concerned.

She continued cooking for us until less than a week before she died.

In those years we always gave a New Year’s Day party, a casual affair where people could come and relax and chat and eat.  The Soviet Union was officially dissolved December 25, 1991.  Most of 1992 saw the effects of the dissolution so the theme of our January 1, 1993 party was the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

For the party, my mother made 14 dozen stuffed cabbage rolls and 17 dozen potato pancakes!

She sat on the sofa throughout the entire party, chatting with everyone and being the life of the party.  The next day she took a turn for the worse and on the morning of January 6th she died.

Some of my best memories involve food, most of which was cooked by family and friends who are no longer with us.  Capturing and preserving those recipes is the way that I pay homage to them and to the culture and values they passed on to me.


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Pasta with Silky Zucchini Sauce
Zucchini are cooked to a silky softness to make a luscious sauce for pasta. Finishing the pasta in the pan with the zucchini and adding some pasta-cooking liquid, Parmesan cheese, and a couple of glugs of olive oil creates glossy sauce with a wonderful mouthfeel. When choosing zucchini, pick small ones, preferably not more than about six inches long. They should be firm and have glossy skin. It will take about 4 or 5 to yield four cups of sliced zucchini. Crushed red pepper is completely optional. If you have fresh basil you can omit the dry basil and toss in a tablespoon or so of basil chiffonade when you combine the pasta with the zucchini.
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Prep Time 15 minutes
Cook Time 1 hour
Servings
people
Ingredients
Prep Time 15 minutes
Cook Time 1 hour
Servings
people
Ingredients
Votes: 0
Rating: 0
You:
Rate this recipe!
Instructions
  1. Dice the onion.
  2. Peel the zucchini and slice approximately ¼ inch thick.
  3. Mince the garlic.
  4. In a large, heavy-bottomed sauté pan large enough to hold the pasta and sauce, sauté the onion and crushed red pepper, if using, over medium heat until the onion is golden and soft. Do not brown the onion.
  5. Add the zucchini. Toss to coat with oil. Season liberally with salt and freshly ground black pepper.
  6. Sauté on medium to medium high heat, adjusting from time to time to avoid browning the zucchini.
  7. Add the dry oregano and dry basil, if using, after about 20 minutes.
  8. Continue to sauté, stirring often, until the zucchini is quite soft, but still intact. It can turn golden but should not brown. Taste and adjust salt and pepper while the zucchini is cooking.
  9. Add the minced garlic and cook until fragrant, about 5 minutes longer.
  10. The dish can be prepared several hours in advance to this point. Simply take the sauté pan off the heat and cover it.
  11. Bring three quarts of water to a rolling boil. Add 1/3 cup salt. Add the pasta and cook at a full boil until the pasta is almost al dente. It should still be just the tiniest bit hard in the center.
  12. Reserve at least one cup of pasta-cooking liquid.
  13. Drain the pasta and add it to the zucchini in the sauté pan. Add about ½ cup of reserved pasta-cooking liquid and fresh basil, if using, and cook over medium heat at a light boil until the pasta is al dente. Add more pasta-cooking water as needed. There should be some liquid in the pan when the pasta is finished.
  14. Off the heat, stir in the Parmigiano Reggiano cheese and 2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil. Add a bit more pasta-cooking liquid if needed to emulsify the cheese and olive oil to create a glossy sauce that just clings to the pasta.
  15. Taste and adjust salt and pepper.
Recipe Notes

Copyright © 2017 by VillaSentieri.com. All rights reserved.

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Figs!

July 2, 2017

We had a disaster with our greenhouse this past winter and we’re very thankful that our fig trees came back from near death!

Until this past winter we heated the greenhouse with a pellet stove which worked very well but which caused problems.  We couldn’t be gone for more than 24 hours or the pellet stove would run out of fuel.  Having someone tend the pellet stove always proved problematic for a number of different reasons.

Last fall, we installed a 65,000 BTU direct-vent gas furnace in the greenhouse.  On the first really cold night, the temperature in the greenhouse plummeted to 11 degrees.  As it turns out, a gas meter with a larger flow was needed to handle the extra load.

The situation was not rectified till early spring, however, so we lost pretty much everything in the greenhouse due to extended cold.  Now, you might wonder why we waited until spring.

When installing a new meter, at least in Santa Fe, the gas company tests the gas line at high pressure.  If any leaks are found gas service to the property is shut off until the leak can be isolated and fixed.  We decided this was not a risk we wanted to take in the middle of winter so we simply turned off the furnace in the greenhouse for the season.

Miraculously, the dead-looking fig trees started sending up new shoots from their roots this spring.  So, while we lost the large, established trees, we got some new ones in their place.  And they’re actually making figs.

The original fig tree came with us from Chicago in 2012.  Although it produced figs every year, they never ripened.  Apparently it is too cold at night where we live for that to occur.

In 2015 we left the fig trees in the greenhouse all summer rather than taking them out when the weather got warm.  We got ripe figs!

The fig trees now remain in the greenhouse year round.  Here are two short video clips of my mother-in-law and father-in-law enjoying the first fig to ripen for us in Santa Fe in summer of 2015.