Captivated by Cappelini Caprese

Caprese salads are typically composed of fresh tomato, buffalo mozzarella, julienned basil, olive oil, salt, and pepper. This recipe adds pasta into the mix, and is great for the lazy, hazy days of summer that we're in now.

This recipe comes from a magazine. I have no idea what magazine, though I'm sure I found the recipe sometime in the mid-90s, and have been preparing it every summer since then. It's so simple, and so celebrates the season that you'll add it to your summer repetoire in a heartbeat, too.

The pictures show a recent version of this salad that uses the last bits of cooked and cooled macaroni, red onion, and leftover chicken breast. The recipe is easily adapted in that way. Don't have parsley? Don't worry about it. I'm sure the salad will be delicious anyway you make it today. And - if there are any leftovers - it will be even better tomorrow.

Cappelini With Tomato

CAPPELINI WITH TOMATO
Serves four or more

12 oz cappelini, cooked, tossed with 2 T olive oil, and cooled to room temperature

4 large tomatoes, diced
1/2 cup scallion, chopped
1/4 cup fresh basil, chopped
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
4 oz mozzarella, shredded - be sure to use FRESH mozzarella.
Salt and Pepper to taste
Walnuts (optional) for garnish

Combine the tomatoes, scallion, basil, galric, mozzarella, salt, and pepper in a large bowl and let stand, at room temperature, for at least thirty minutes. Toss with pasta and walnuts and serve.

This recipe is great for potlucks and picnics. On top of my worn out recipe card I wrote "A summer classic" - indeed.

Butternut Squash Festival, Day Two: Pasta Sauce

I'm cooking a few recipes from Red, White and Greens: The Italian Way With Vegetables by Faith Willinger. Today's recipe is Penne with Squash Sauce on page 305.


I took a day off of work. Because I haven't had a day off without being sick in so long I can't remember when that was. And the concept of taking time off for a vacation? I'm not really sure what that is, though I do dream about such things.

When I woke up in the morning, the house was cold. Seriously, it was 58. I'd been having ongoing issues with heat, and my landlord was aware. He'd even replaced the thermostat, hoping that would solve the issue. No go, and it was cold. I called the landlord, and then headed to the kitchen to keep warm.

I thought I'd finished with Red, White, And Greens by Faith Willinger, but I had a lot of squash left over so, well, why not? This is a deceptively easy recipe and it kept me moving around the house until the landlord called.

First I chopped up more butternut squash. This is from the same butternut you saw earlier - remember? While peeling the squash over the garbage can, the squash tried to escape and commit squash suicide - it dived into the garbage. I retrieved and washed, then chopped it to bits and retribution.

This is another recipe where patience in the first steps pays off. You saute the chopped squash in olive oil until tender. Wait as long as you can stand it before proceeding to the next step. Allow at least a half hour, if not 45 minutes.

While exercising patience, I chopped some parsley and garlic. I also threw in the last of the Aerogarden basil and thyme.

The pasta water went on to boil, and the penne rigate followed soon. Once cooked, I drained the pasta and reserved two cups of pasta water.

The chopped herbs went into the squash mixture, followed by cooked pasta and some pasta water. I took my time incoporating each bit of water. The objective is a sauce, but I also like to have some squash to bite into.

The end result is chunks of squash that virtually melt in your mouth, swaddled in a flavorful sauce, accompanied by penne pasta and parmesan cheese. Just perfect for a cold morning - or evening meal!

And, for those of you wondering how long it took for the heat to come back on, the answer is quite intriguing. It came back on that day, but was off again in the morning. In the end, there was a small sensor that needed to be replaced; once that was taken care of, and the weather outside turned sleety and snowy, my home was warm and toasty.

Macaroni for Poor Folks

This week I'm exploring Red, White & Greens: The Italian Way With Vegetables by Faith Willinger. Today's recipe, like many in the book, has an entrancing story. The title of the recipe is "Livia's Genoa Macaroni for Artistocrats and Poor Folks: Maccheroni alla Genovese" and it can be found on pages 221-222.

Willinger begins talking about this recipe by describing the produce she sees on the journey to the restaurant Don Alfonso: there are olive trees, lemon groves, vegetable gardens, artichoke plants, onions, garlic, and staked tomato plants. The Don Alfonso serves fancy food, "..like lobster and foie gras and covers food with silver domes..." writes Willinger, but Livia Iaccarino (wife of restaurant owner Alfonso Iaccarino) told a story about traditional macaroni.

Livia says that, in days gone by, the artistocrats would braise meat and onions for hours; eventually the onions would turn into a cream sauce. The peasants, on the other hand, omitted the beat, and simply cooked the onions for hours with other vegetables to create a savory sauce. I gathered the ingredients.

Then I chopped up the onion, carrot, parsley, and celery and placed them in a pot with olive oil.

I sauted this mixture until the vegetables were tender, then added white wine, salt, and pepper and set it on the burner to cook long and slow.

This where the magic is supposed to happen. If you're a patient cook (which I sure can be when The Grit's Golden Bowl is involved) you are rewarded as the onions turn into a cream sauce.After two hours of simmering, I had no broth. I did, however, have nicely sauted vegetables that tasted very good.

I let the vegetables keep simmering as I put pasta water on to boil. I cooked the pasta, drained, and reserved two cups of pasta water.

I mixed the cooked pasta in with the vegetables, and added some of the pasta water. No magic onion sauce appeared. I was tempted to puree the whole thing (sans pasta) with my hand blender, but resisted. In retrospect, that probably would have been a good idea.

The resulting dish was certainly tasty, but nothing I'd make again. And though Ivan was interesting in nibbling, only I ate Macaroni for Poor Folks.

If I was to try this again, which probably won't happen, I would definitely cook the vegetables longer. I also think I needed more liquid, and the hand blender would have been a good thing to use. Regardless, I enjoyed falling under the spell of the "upstairs/downstairs" dish.