briciole

pezze rigate / handmade pezze rigate

experimenting on the kneading board

I am determined: One day, I will invent a new pasta shape. As an intermediate step, I have created an innovative variation of an existing pasta shape called fainelle. I decided to give my pasta a different name, because it is made quite differently from the inspiring one (see details below).¹

According to my source, the "Encyclopedia of Pasta" by Oretta Zanini De Vita, fainelle are typical of Foggia (Puglia). The word fainella in dialect refers to the fruit of the carrob tree (in Italian, carruba), to which the pasta shape resembles. I was not able to find a reference to it outside of the page in Zanini De Vita's book, so the idea I have is based on the drawing and the text on that page.

Fainelle belong to the strascinati family of pasta shapes and are made with a sferre: "A typical knife of Puglia used to make many types of pasta. It has no handle, so it can also be used horizontally to make long strascinati." To approximate the shape, I decided to roll the dough with one of the pieces of dowel I had purchased during my experiments to make garganelli. I realized that using a mini rolling pin meant my pasta would not be a type of strascinato. (A sferre is now officially on my wish list.)

The result reminded me of a patch made of cloth, in Italian pezza. I made a couple of pezze and then the presence on my working surface of my gnocchi board gave me the idea of rolling the pieces of pasta dough on it to get a ridged surface and pezze rigate were born.

Then I thought about a variation: instead of placing the cylinder of dough parallel to the board grooves, I placed it a bit angled and as a result the ridges on the surface of the pezza came out oblique.

You can see my hands at work on both versions in this short video:

 

Based on Zanini De Vita's description of the flours used for this pasta shape, I decided to make a blend of whole-wheat flour and semolina flour. I could have used farina di grano arso, also mentioned in the book, but I wanted to vary.

first batch of pezze

I am reading a cookbook for an upcoming review that is all about using flowers in the kitchen. I had some calendulas (calendule) I had obtained to make one of the book's recipes and I added some of their petals (petali) to the pasta dough.

with calendula petals

Pezze rigate are probably not the best choice to show off the use of flowers in the kitchen, but it was an interesting experiment and I will certainly work more on the idea.

Ingredients for the pasta:

• EITHER 25 g / 1 oz. stone-ground whole-wheat flour + 75 g / 2.5 oz. semolina flour of good quality
• OR 100 g / 3.5 oz. semolina flour of good quality
• 50 g / 1.75 oz. warm water (I recommend weighing the water)
• A pinch of salt

How to make the dough and shape pezze rigate
Make a dough with the pasta ingredients and knead until nice and smooth. Let the dough rest, well wrapped to avoid drying, for half an hour or so.

Shape the dough into a thick roll, then cut it into 5-6 pieces and shape each one into a roll about 3/8 inch (1 cm) in diameter. Cut each roll into approximately 1 1/2-inch (4 cm) long pieces, then place each cylinder on the gnocchi board with the long sides either parallel to the board's grooves or slightly angled. Run the mini rolling pin — a piece of dowel of 3/8 inch (1 cm) or 1/2 inch (1.25 cm) in diameter — over the piece of dough 2-3 times to thin it and "stamp" it. The resulting pezza rigata will be about 2 inches long. Lay out to dry ridged side up on a surface lightly dusted with flour. 

Repeat with the other pieces of dough. Lightly dust the gnocchi board as needed to prevent the dough from sticking too tightly when you roll it.

ready for the fork

Cook the pasta
Bring a pot of salted water to a rolling boil, then toss the pezze rigate in it (what in Italian we call: buttare giù la pasta). The time needed to cook is a bit variable, depending on the size of pezze, how dry they are, etc. Taste and stop the cooking when the pasta is ready. Pour a glass of cold water in the pot, stir and drain the pezze.

Place in a bowl, distribute some sugo di pomodoro (tomato sauce), reheated if necessary, and toss. Finally, sprinkle some Parmigiano-Reggiano on top and serve immediately.

Alternatively, while the pasta is cooking, place a few tablespoons of the tomato sauce in a small skillet and warm it up. Drain the pasta and drop it into the skillet with the sauce. Stir well over medium-low heat for a minute. Sprinkle some of the cheese and stir one last time. Plate and sprinkle a bit more cheese on the top. Serve immediately.

The recipe makes two small portions (served as Italian first course).

I will add this recipe to my growing collection of pasta shapes. Please, do let me know if you try your hand at making any of them.

1 If you are aware of another pasta shape that is similar to (or the same as) what I made, please let me know.

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This is my contribution to the current edition of Pasta Please, a new pasta-centric event created by Jacqueline of Tinned Tomatoes and hosted this month by Simona of briciole. The theme this month is: homemade pasta.

You have until May 28 to link to your contribution in this post.

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The top photo is my second contribution to edition #84 of Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event created by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, now organized by Cinzia of Cindystar, and hosted this week by Simona of briciole.

The photo was shot in color and then converted to black and white (Lightroom preset Split Tone 1).

On this page, you can find out who is hosting the current and future editions of the event.

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Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

pezze rigate

or launch the pezze rigate audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

handmade pasta, semolina flour, whole-wheat flour, Italian cuisine

Related articles

annuncio / announcement: Pasta Please

lorighittas al sugo piccante / lorighittas with spicy hot tomato sauce

ready to dry

Inspiration often comes unexpectedly. When I followed the link to read this post by Aioulik of Trattoria MuVarA (in Italian), I expected to be reminded of some of the great dishes typical of the Sardinian cuisine. The photo of the lovely pasta shape resembling a miniature wreath or an earring made me search immediately online for information. Shortly afterwards, I was at the kneading board. Later, I posted this phost to my Instagram feed:

from my first batch of lorighittas

I think it was not bad for my first try.

According to online sources, lorighittas are typical of the Sardinian town of Morgongiori (province of Oristano). As explained on this page, the name comes from sa loriga, a Sardinian word that indicates the iron ring fixed to the wall of a house to which horses or donkeys were tethered. 

In this video (in Italian), the woman interviewed talks about the tradition of making lorighittas. She adds the salt to the water rather than the semola (in this post, there is a brief discussion of the various products obtained by milling durum wheat) and calls that battezzare (to baptize). She says that the pasta is fully dried, a process that takes several days. I assume the drying is done for storage. 

Other interesting things from the video are the beautiful basket on which the lorighittas are laid out to dry and the repurposed meatgrinder. Instead of a basket, I used a cookie sheet lined with a cotton kitchen towel (see top photo). I then covered the lorighittas with another towel.

To make lorighittas you roll the dough into a string that is thin enough, but not so thin as to break during the shaping. The meatgrinder made a lot of sense, so I decided to try using it. Unfortunately, the disk I have (only one, since my meatgrinder is basically an antique) does not produce smooth strings, so my experiment did not end satisfactorily. I went back to rolling with my hands.

Shaping the lorighittas requires a bit of attention. In this video, you can see my hands at work.

A quick comparison with the hands of the women in the previous video shows that I have a little way to go before I can contemplate making lorighittas for a large party. But I am determined to improve with practice.

Considering that I had chosen a complex pasta shape, I thought I would go easy in terms of sauce. Having missed last month's edition of Pasta Please, I wanted to comply with this month's theme, chili peppers, so I made simple tomato sauce using my strained roasted tomatoes and I spiked it with peperoncino.

See this bunch of peperoncini? I have had them for some time and I can assure you they've lost none of their potency.

bright red peperoncini next to big zucchini blossoms

I bought them during my only visit to the farmers' market in Milan, shortly after they opened it. I had a mixed experience there, but walked away with, among other things, a pretty bunch of peperoncini, fiery in both color and flavor, which I have been using ever since.

Ingredients for the pasta:

• 100 g / 3.5 oz. semolina flour of good quality (see the post on orecchiette for details on products of ground durum wheat)
• 50 g / 1.75 oz. warm water (I recommend weighing the water)
• a pinch of salt

Ingredients for the spicy tomato sauce:

• Olive oil
• Two garlic cloves, peeled
• 2 cups strained roasted tomatoes (thawed, if frozen)
• A red chili pepper (see below for details)
• Sea salt, to taste
• Freshly grated fiore sardo, to taste

Make lorighittas
Make a dough with the three ingredients and knead until nice and smooth. Let the dough rest, covered, for at least half an hour.

Roll the dough into a thick salami and cut it into pieces. Keep them covered while you shape the lorighittas. You don't want the dough to dry out. Roll each piece into a thin string, not thicker than 1/6 inch / 0.4 cm diameter (see Note below). Wrap the string around the four fingers twice then break the dough and join the two ends by pressing lightly. Note: if the rings come out too long and you have trouble with the next step, try using only three fingers. Thread one loop into the other a few times until the two strands are woven into a sort of two-strand braid.

Continue until all the dough is used. You may want to dust lightly with flour the surface where you lay the shaped lorighittas, to prevent them from sticking. And you may need to wet your hands if they get too dry while shaping the pasta (it happened to me).

The first time I made the pasta, I cooked it a few hours after I had shaped it. The second time, I dried it for a couple of days to see how it looked. Note: someone whose mother is from Morgongiori kindly commented on FB that the string of dough must be thinner than it appears in my version of lorighittas. I am aware that in my first rendition the string of dough was a bit thick. Also, the perspective of the close-up photos is somewhat tricky. Finally, I learned by myself, just watching a video, so I make no claims about the authenticity of my lorighittas. As I mentioned above, the dough should be thin, but not so thin as to break when you roll it around your fingers. I am sure my technique would improve if I could spend some time in Morgongiori with the pros and if I am ever in Sardinia, you can be sure I'd visit the town and look for a mentor.

just shaped

Prepare the spicy tomato sauce
In a small saucepan, warm up a bit of olive oil, then add garlic and chili pepper. Choose the chili pepper's size and how you cut it based on how spicy you want your sauce. In my household, the preference goes to mild spicyness, so I chose a smallish peperoncino. I left it whole and snapped off the stem and the small cap to which it is attached.

Cook gently for a couple of minutes, then add the tomatoes. Bring to a simmer and cook for 7-8 minutes. Remove garlic and chili pepper. Adjust salt, to taste. Note that this will make more sauce than you need to dress the pasta, but once you have the sauce ready, I am sure you'll find ways of using it, like making more handmade pasta.

If you find that the sauce is too hot for your taste, make another batch without peperoncino and then blend the two.

Cook the pasta
Bring a pot of salted water to a rolling boil, then toss the lorighittas in it (what in Italian we call: buttare giù la pasta). The time needed is a bit variable, depending on the size of lorighittas, how dry they are, etc. Dry lorighittas take quite some time to cook, so be patient. Taste and stop the cooking when the lorighittas are ready. Pour a glass of cold water in the pot, stir and drain the lorighittas. Place in a bowl, distribute some tomato sauce (reheated if necessary), and toss. Finally, sprinkle some cheese on top and serve immediately.

Alternatively, while the pasta is cooking, place a few tablespoons of the sauce in a small skillet and warm it up. Drain the pasta and drop it into the skillet with the sauce. Stir well over medium-low heat for a minute. Sprinkle some of the cheese and stir one last time. Plate and sprinkle a bit more cheese on the top. Serve immediately.

The recipe makes two small portions.

pretty on the plate

Every time I make a new pasta shape, I think it is the prettiest I have made so far. Lorighittas stand well with the spicyness of the peperoncino in the sauce. I honestly liked the fresh version a bit better, but I am glad I dried one batch. I will do it again and complete the drying process, so I can store the pasta for later use.

This is my contribution to the current edition of Pasta Please, a new pasta-centric event created by Jacqueline of Tinned Tomatoes and hosted this month by Shaheen of Allotment2Kitchen. The theme this month is: chillies (a.k.a. chili peppers).

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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The top photo is my contribution to edition #81 of Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event created by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, now organized by Cinzia of Cindystar, and hosted this week by Lynne of Cafe Lynnylu.

The photo was shot in color and then converted to  sepia (using Lightroom preset Sepia Tone).

This post contains the gallery of images submitted to the event.

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Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

lorighittas al sugo piccante

or launch the lorighittas al sugo piccante audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

handmade pasta, semolina flour, chili pepper

cappellacci dei briganti / brigands' hats

the hats are made of pasta dough!

You look at the image and you want some, right? That's what happened to me: I read about cappellacci dei briganti in the "Encyclopedia of Pasta" by Oretta Zanini De Vita and I immediately made a batch.

The word cappellaccio comes from cappello (hat). The suffix has a negative connotation, which matches the idea that they are worn by lawless characters. According to Zanini De Vita, this pasta is typical of Molise, the Italian region sandwiched between Abruzzo and Puglia. (Note that there is another type of pasta whose name includes cappellacci, namely cappellacci di zucca, a type of stuffed pasta typical of Ferrara.)

the hatmaker's production

The name of this pasta shape evokes tales of travellers being ambushed and robbed by men wrapped in dark cloaks, their faces shadowed by tall hats. Despite the fearsome name, this pasta is quite cute and not particularly difficult to make, but it requires close attention to the movements of your hands.

My first attempt was successful, but I was not totally satisfied with the way my cappellacci looked after the required rest, so I searched the web and found an image in this article (in Italian, click on the magnifying glass icon to see the whole image), which gave me the idea of pressing the front of the brim against the conical portion of the hat. I tried it and liked the result, so that's how I have made my cappellacci dei briganti ever since.

You can see my hands at work in this short video — in which you can also hear my husband say "Action!"

 

As usual, my recommendation is to start by making un uovo di pasta, a small amount of dough, so you don't get overwhelmed by the task. When your hands become proficient at making cappellacci, you can increase the amount of dough and delight more people. To make the pasta dough, I used the KAF Pasta Blend previously mentioned and was happy with the result. For one extra-large egg, I weigh 80 g of flour. I then add more flour, as needed, to get a dough of the right consistency. It is better to have to add flour than to find yourself with a hard dough (my mother's wisdom).

Ingredients:

• 80 g (a teaspoon less than 3 oz.) flour [see paragraph above] plus more as needed to obtain the dough
  by my measuring, 80 g of King Arthur's Pasta Blend correspond to 1/2 cup, but this is not what the packaging states and in any case, I recommend you weigh the flour
• 1 extra-large egg
• A pinch of sea salt

On your working surface, create a well with the flour and crack the egg directly into it. Sprinkle the salt. Scramble the egg with a fork. Draw flour from the sides of the well into the center, mixing well with the egg.

Trade the fork for your fingertips. Draw flour until a soft dough forms. Add more flour, as needed. Continue to knead the dough, 8-10 minutes. Cover the dough and let it rest for an hour or so (at least half an hour).

circles and cutouts

Roll dough by hand or with a pasta machine. On my machine, I stop at the penultimate notch. Zanini De Vita mentions an inverted liqueur glass as implement to cut the circles from which to shape the cappellacci. A two-inch biscuit cutter is perfect for the task and actually, in my opinion, more comfortable to use than a glass. 

Wrap one circle around the tip of your index finger (indice) to form a cone. Fold back the side of the brim opposite to the seam and press it against the cone, then slide the cappellaccio off the finger and place it upright on the lightly floured working surface, resting on the lateral sides of the brim. Make sure the index finger you are using as support to shape the pasta is floured, otherwise you won't be able to take the cappellaccio off at the end without misshaping it.

Knead together the cutouts (ritagli di pasta) and cover them while you work, then roll them again. Continue until all the dough is used. Let the cappellacci dry for at least a couple of hours, so they will hold their shape better while cooking. I usually make cappellacci in the morning, if I plan to cook them for lunch.

Boil in plenty of salted water. Always handle the cappellacci with a delicate touch, when you transfer them into the pot, when you stir them while cooking and then when you dress them. You will be rewarded with a truly pretty plate of pasta that will delight the eyes and palates of your guests.

cappellacci dei briganti al sugo

I dress the cappellacci with my usual sugo di pomodoro. I have been carefully drawing from my stash of frozen strained roasted tomatoes, which is a joy to use and will last me until the new tomato crop comes around.

I will add this recipe to my growing collection of pasta shapes. Please, do let me know if you try your hand at making any of them.

I am submitting this recipe, bookmarked on the book "Encyclopedia of Pasta" by Oretta Zanini De Vita to Bookmarked Recipes #23, an event originally started by Ruth of Ruth’s Kitchen Experiments and now hosted by Jacqueline of Tinned Tomatoes.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

cappellacci dei briganti

or launch the cappellacci dei briganti audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

handmade pasta, egg pasta, Italian recipe

borș / crusca di frumento fermentata / fermented wheat bran

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

wheat bran

My kitchen will never be featured in a fashion magazine and I am fine with that. Even on a good day, it's pretty chaotic. The top of the refrigerator is my fermentation department, where there is always something bubbling

the fermentation department

From the left:

• flaked barley for my husband's breakfast (see this post: I process barley the same way I process rye)
  
• borș
  
• kefir (which is light-sensitive so it is cloaked in a kitchen towel)
  

I didn't know what borș was until I read this in the wikipedia entry for Romanian cuisine:

Quite different types of dishes are sometimes included under a generic term; for example, the category ciorbă includes a wide range of soups with a characteristic sour taste. These may be meat and vegetable soups, tripe (ciorbă de burtă) and calf foot soups, or fish soups, all of which are soured by lemon juice, sauerkraut juice, vinegar, or traditionally borş. 

Borș is a fermented wheat bran used in Romanian cuisine to make traditional sour soup called ciorbă.

Fermented wheat bran sounded interesting. Cristina of La cucina di Cristina confirmed to me that borș is very popular in Romania. There are women who make it and bring it to the market and people fill their bottles with it. It is a fascinating tradition.

starter culture

I chose to follow this recipe, scaled down. I made the starter culture by mixing in a pint-size (half-liter) glass jar:

• 125 g cornmeal
• 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
• 300 ml of water

I put the jar on top of the refrigerator, its opening covered with a light cloth. The photo above shows the starter culture slightly less than two days after I set it to ferment. It smelled deliciously sour, so I moved on to the next step.

getting borș started

In a two-quart (two-liter) glass jar, I put:

• 2 teaspoons cornmeal
• 100 g organic wheat bran (crusca di frumento)
• 1 liter boiling water (acqua bollente)

The boiling water sterilizes the field before the addition of the mother culture. I let the water cool to lukewarm then added a scant tablespoon of the starter culture, taken from the middle of the jar. I screwed the lid and rocked the larger jar to mix the content, then loosened the lid and put the jar where you see it in the top photo.

I should have checked the jar of borș one day after the beginning of the fermentation, but I didn't. When I smelled it for the first time, two days after the beginning of the fermentation, my nose was confused. The borș did not "smell pleasant, nearly as the mild juice of salt cucumbers." Its smell was fairly strong, a smell I could not compare with any other in my memory. I could not tell whether what I had done was wrong or just overfermented, because I had no frame of reference. I should have probably discarded this first batch of borș and if you decide to try, I'd suggest you do so (Cristina also told me to do that). However, I didn't discard it.

I did not have time to work more on the project, so I filtered out most of the borș and put it in another glass jar, then put both jars in the refrigerator (one with the borș and the other with the residual fermented wheat bran). I then took

• 1/4 cup /60 ml of the borş and diluted it with
• water to fill a quart-size (one-liter) glass jar.

The smell of the mixture reminded me of kefir whey. I used some of it to make the rye bread (pane di segale) shown in this post. The original recipe suggests to use dill or sour pickle juice. My substitution worked beautifully. (And instead of sour cream, I used drained kefir — having my homemade kefir is really great.)

I decided to give another try to the borş I had filtered out from the large jar. After four days in the refrigerator, its smell was much milder, probably because there was no fermented wheat bran in the jar. I decided to try to use it in a soup. I made a pumpkin soup that I am familiar with and used 1/2 cup (120 ml) of my borș to make it, together with my vegetable stock and some water. I chose a soup I am familiar with so that I could evaluate the change in flavor. The sour note is definitely there and it is pleasant. With some dukkah sprinkled on top, the soup was excellent.

second batch of borș in the making

I made a second batch of borș using the wheat bran I had kept in the refrigerator. I boiled 1 quart of water, let it cool to lukewarm, then poured it into the jar with the wheat bran. I screwed the lid and rocked the jar to mix the content, then loosened the lid and put the jar. After slightly less than 2 days, the borș smelled slightly lemony: really pleasant. Again, I filtered out the liquid and poured it into another jar, then place them both in the refrigerator.

So far, I added some of my borș to:

• three different types of bread: I used diluted borș as liquid
• leafy greens with raisins: I added 1/4 cup / 60 ml of borș several minutes before the end of cooking instead of using lemon juice at the end
• winter squash soup (twice): 1/2 cup / 120 ml borș, some vegetable stock and water (as needed)

I love borș! And I am quite proud of myself for attempting to make it. I feel like I opened a small window onto another culture.

This is my contribution to edition #377 of Weekend Herb Blogging, an event started by Kalyn of Kalyn's Kitchen, now organized by Haalo of Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once and hosted this week by Haalo herself.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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My borș and my fasole bătută posted previously participate to the fourth installment of the Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea (European Community Culinary ABC), an event organized by Trattoria MuVarA that will bring us to visit 26 countries of the EU (all except Italy) using the alphabet as guide. D like Drob (Romania) is hosted by Cristina of La cucina di Cristina.

This page contains Drob's recipe and the list of dishes contributed to the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

borș

or launch the borș audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

[jump to Comments]

wheat bran, cornmeal, Romanian recipe

Per i lettori italiani

crusca di frumento

La mia cucina non verrà mai fotografata per una rivista di moda e va bene così. Anche nei momenti migliori, è piuttosto caotica. Sopra al frigorifero c'è il mio reparto fermentazione.

il reparto fermentazione

Da sinistra:

• fiocchi di orzo per la colazione di mio marito (vedi questo post: sottopongo l'orzo allo stesso processo di lavorazione della segale)
  
• borș
  
• kefir (che è foto sensibile e quindi è avvolto in un panno)
  

Non avevo sentito parlare del borș prima della mia breve ricerca sulla cucina rumena:

La maggior parte dei Rumeni distinguono la "supă" (brodo) dalla "ciorbă" sulla base del fatto che la prima non prevede aggiunta di sostanze acide e, soprattutto, non contiene al suo interno alcun tipo di carne o verdura, essendo solamente un brodo, mentre la ciorbă può contenere una grande varietà di ingredienti acidi, come limoni, borş (crusca fermentata), panna acida ("smântână") o zeamă de varză acră (succo di crauti). Spesso si aggiunge del levistico.

Crusca fermentata? Interessante. Cristina di La cucina di Cristina mi ha confermato il borș è molto popolare in Romania. Ci sono signore che lo fanno e poi lo vendono al mercato e le persone vanno là e riempiono le loro bottiglie. È una tradizione affascinante.

coltura madre

Ho scelto di seguire questa ricetta, diminuendo le quantità. Ho preparato la coltura madre mescolando in un vaso di vetro da mezzo litro i seguenti ingredienti:

• 125 g farina di mais tipo fioretto
• 1 cucchiaio di farina di frumento
• 300 ml d'acqua

Ho messo il vaso sopra al frigorifero con l'apertura coperta con un pezzo di cotone. La foto sopra mostra la coltura poco meno di due giorni dopo che l'ho messa a fermentare. L'odore era piacevolmente acido e quindi sono passata alla fase successiva.

inizia la fermentazione del borş

In un vaso di vetro da un litro ho messo:

• 2 cucchiaini farina di mais tipo fioretto
• 100 g crusca di frumento bio
• 1 litro acqua bollente

L'acqua bollente sterilizza gli ingredienti prima dell'aggiunta della coltura madre. Ho lasciato intiepidire l'acqua e po ho aggiunto al vado un cucchiaio scarso di coltura madre preso dal centro del vasetto che la contiene. Ho avvitato il coperchio del vaso grosso e l'ho agitato per mescolare bene gli ingredienti, poi ho svitato parzialmente il coperchio e ho messo il vaso sul frigorifero, come si vede nella foto in alto.

Avrei dovuto controllare il borş un giorno dopo l'inizio della fermentazione ma non l'ho fatto. Quando l'ho odorato per la prima volta, due giorni dopo l'inizio della fermentazione, il mio naso è rimasto un po' confuso. Il borş non aveva un odore "piacevole" come descrive la ricetta, ma piuttosto forte e diverso da qualsiasi altro odore della mia esperienza, quindi non sapevo se avessi fatto qualcosa di sbagliato o se era un caso di fermentazione un po' troppo lunga. Avrei probabilmente dovuto scartare quel primo borș. Se decidete di provare, vi suggerisco di farlo e anche Cristina me lo ha consigliato. Io non l'ho scartato, ma ho continuato il mio esperimento. Come dicevano i Romani: la fortuna aiuta gli audaci.

Non avendo subito tempo per continuare il progetto, ho filtrato quasi tutto il borş dal vaso e l'ho versato in un altro vaso di vetro e poi ho messo tutti e due i vasi in frigorifero: uno con il borş e l'altro col residuo di crusca fermentata. Poi ho preso

• 60 ml di borş e li ho diluiti con
• acqua fino a riempire un vaso di vetro da un litro

L'odore di questo borş diluito mi ricordava quello del siero di kefir. Ne ho usato un po' per fare il pane di segale che si vede in questo post. La ricetta originale suggerisce di usare il liquido residuo dei cetriolini marinati. La mis sostituzione ha funzionato benissimo. (E invece della panna acido ho usato del kefir drenato — avere il kefir fatto in casa è davvero comodo.)

Dopo aver riposato per quattro giorni nel frigorifero, il mio primo borş aveva un odore molto meno forte, probabilmente perche nel vaso non c'era la crusca fermentata. Ho usato 120 ml di questo borş insieme a del brodo vegetale per preparare una zuppa con la zucca. Ho scelto una zuppa che preparo spesso in modo da poter valutare la differenza di sapore. La nota acidula era certamente presente e piacevole. Con della dukkah cosparsa sulla superficie, la zuppa era eccellente.

il secondo borș durante la fermentazione

Ho preparato il borş una seconda volta utilizzando la stessa crusca, che nel frattempo avevo tenuto in frigorifero. Ho bollito un litro d'acqua, l'ho lasciata intiepidire e poi l'ho versata nel vaso con la crusca. Ho avvitato il coperchio del vaso e l'ho agitato per mescolare bene gli ingredienti, poi ho svitato parzialmente il coperchio e ho messo il vaso sul frigorifero, come si vede nella foto in alto. dopo poco meno di due giorni, il borș aveva un odore piacevolmente limonoso. Di nuovo, l'ho filtrato e versato in un altro vaso di vetro e l'ho messo nel frigorifero.

Finora ho usato il mio borș in:

• tre diversi tipi di pane: ho usato del borș diluito come liquido
• bietola in padella con l'uvetta: ho aggiunto 60 ml di borș diversi minuti prima della fine della cottura, invece di aggiungere succo di limone alla fine
• zuppa di zucca (due volte): 120 ml di borș, del brodo vegetale e acqua q.b.

Mi piace il borș! E sono fiera di me per aver provato a farlo e per non essermi scoraggiata all'inizio. Il borș mi ha aiutato ad aprire una piccola finestra su un'altra cultura.

Questo post è il mio contributo all'edizione numero 377 di Weekend Herb Blogging, un evento creato da Kalyn di Kalyn's Kitchen, organizzato ora da Haalo di Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once, la cui versione italiana è organizzata da Brii di briggishome, e ospitata questa settimana da Brii stessa.

Questo post contiene il raccolto dell'evento.

---

Il mio borș e il mio fasole bătută postato in precedenza partecipano all quarta tappa dell'Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea, un evento organizzato dalla Trattoria MuVarA che ci porterà a visitare i 26 paesi della Comunità Europea (eccetto l'Italia) usando le lettere dell'alfabeto come guida. D come Drob (Romania) è ospitata da Cristina de La cucina di Cristina.

Questa pagina contiene la ricetta di Drob e la lista dei piatti contribuiti all'evento.

Se siete interessati a partecipare, questo post contiene la lista completa di paesi, blog ospitanti e scadenze.

fasole bătută

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

a creamy, flavorful spread

Would you like something creamy to spread on bread or crackers that is flavorful, nutritious and healthy? Look no further than my rendition of fasole bătută, a Romanian dish made with mashed beans seasoned with various aromatics (source). I read a few recipes and then went my own way, using what I had available and adjusting the quantities to my taste. This recipe suggests to fry the onions, which gave me the idea to caramelize shallots and use them as topping.

I really liked my version of fasole bătută: it's creamy and balanced in terms of flavor. (Note that I used a small amount of garlic, an ingredient that, when used raw, can easily overwhelm other flavors.)

Ingredients:

• 3.5 oz / 1/2 cup / 100 g Paul's mix beans or other dried beans of choice, like cannellini or canario [see below how to cook beans with aromatics]
• 1 tablespoon / 15 ml Meyer lemon juice or 2 teaspoons lemon juice
• A teaspoon minced fresh dill (optional, but nice: this is my idea)
  
• 1 small garlic clove (or half of a larger one), peeled
  
• 1 tablespoon / 15 ml olive oil of good quality
• Sea salt and freshly milled pepper, to taste
• 85 g / 3 oz. shallots, thinly sliced (1/8 inch / 3 mm)
• 1/2 tablespoon / 7.5 ml olive oil of good quality
  

How to cook dry beans
The way I cook beans for further use comes from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone by Deborah Madison (Beans with Aromatics). After soaking half a cup of dry beans for several hours or overnight in enough water to cover them by about an inch (I use two cups), empty the whole bowl into a saucepan and add

• Half of a small onion (or a quarter of a medium one), halved
• A bay leaf
• A small clove of garlic, sliced
• A couple of sprigs of fresh parsley

Bring the water to a lively boil quickly, and keep it there for five minutes, then turn down the heat and let the beans simmer, covered, until they are ready. How long this takes depends on the type of beans and their freshness. Let them cool in their broth, then remove the aromatics and discard them. Let the beans rest in their cooking broth until ready to use.

How to finish the dish
Drain the beans, leaving them a bit moist. This is one of the advantages of cooking beans by yourself (instead of buying canned ones): the cooking liquid is aromatic and can be used as part of the dish you are making. Place the beans in a food processor fitted with a steel blade. Add Meyer lemon juice, dill and garlic, and start the processor.

When the beans are partially mashed, add 1 tablespoon of oil slowly through the feeding tube while the processor is running. Scrape the side of the bowl with a spatula to make sure that the ingredients get processed properly.

Process until the beans are nice a creamy. Add more oil and/or a bit of the bean cooking liquid to reach the desired consistency. Taste and, if needed, add a bit more Meyer lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper, to taste. Refrigerate until use.

Warm up 1/2 tablespoon of oil in a small frying pan and add the shallots. Cook on gentle heat until caramelized. Sprinkle a bit of salt and stir.

Take the fasole bătută out of the refrigerator ahead of serving (so it is not consumed cold). Right before bringing it to the table, top it with the shallots.

with caraway rye bread

I served my fasole bătută with slices of caraway rye bread that I made using a traditional Romanian ingredient. More on this in a future post.

Addendum. Cristina of La cucina di Cristina wrote in the answer to my comment on her blog that this is the most beloved (and most eaten) dish in Romania. It is consumed as appetizer with bread, the way I did, or as side dish with a sausage, or as entrée with a side of pickled vegetables, like cucumbers and green tomatoes.

I totally understand the enthusiasm Romanians have for this dish. I made it again, doubling the quantities and using a mix of mint and thyme instead of dill and it was once again a delight to eat spread on bread.

This is my contribution to the fourth installment of the Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea (European Community Culinary ABC), an event organized by Trattoria MuVarA that will bring us to visit 26 countries of the EU (all except Italy) using the alphabet as guide. D like Drob (Romania) is hosted by Cristina of La cucina di Cristina.

This page contains Drob's recipe and the list of dishes contributed to the event.

If you'd like to participate, this post contains the complete list of countries, hosting blogs and deadlines.

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beans, spread, Romanian recipe

Per i lettori italiani

una crema di fagioli deliziosa

Desiderate qualcosa di cremoso da spalmare su pane o cracker che sia gustoso, nutriente e saporito? Siete arrivati alla ricetta giusta: fasole bătută, un piatto rumeno a base di fagioli passati con aromi vari. Ho letto alcune ricette e poi, come al solito, ho prodotto una versione personalizzata in base ai miei gusti e agli ingredienti che ho a disposizione.  Questa ricetta (in inglese) suggerisce di accompagnare fasole bătută con della cipolla fritta e questo particolare mi ha dato l'idea di caramellizzare dello scalogno.

La mia versione di fasole bătută, cremosa e bilanciata nel sapore, mi è piaciuta molto. (Da notare che ho usato solo una piccola quantita di aglio, un ingrediente che, quando è usato crudo, fa un po' il bullo con altri sapori.

Ingredients:

• 100 g fagioli cannellini secchi
• 15 ml / 1 cucchiaio succo di limone Meyer o 10 ml / 2 cucchiaini succo di limone
  
• 1 cucchiaino di aneto finemente tritato (facoltativo, ma ci sta bene: idea mia)
  
• 1 piccolo spicchio d'aglio pelato (o mezzo spicchio, se un po' grosso)
  
• 15 ml olio EV d'oliva
  
• sale fino e pepe macinato fresco, q.b.
• 85 g scalogno tagliato a fettine fine (3 mm)
  
• 7,5 ml / mezzo cucchiaio olio EV d'oliva

Cuocere i fagioli
Il metodo che uso per cuocere i fagioli secchi viene da Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone di Deborah Madison (Beans with Aromatics). Dopo aver tenuto in ammollo 100 g di fagioli per diverse ore o, meglio, tutta la notte, in abbastanza acqua da coprirli per 2,5 cm (io ne uso 475 ml), verso il tutto in una pentola e aggiungo gli odori:

• mezza cipolla piccola (o un quarto di cipolla media)
  
• una fogliolina d'alloro
  
• un piccolo spicchio d'aglio tagliato a fettine
  
• un paio di steli di prezzemolo

Portare a bollore vivace e mantenerlo per 5 minuti, poi abbassare il calore e far cuocere, coperti, fino a quando i fagioli non sono teneri. Il tempo necessario dipende dal tipo di fagioli e dalla loro freschezza. Far freddare i fagioli nel liquido di cottura, poi rimuovere gli odori e scartarli. Lasciare i fagioli nel liquido di cottura fino a quando non li utilizzate.

Completare la preparazione
Scolare i fagioli, ma lasciarli un po' umidi. Questo è uno dei vantaggi di cuocere i fagioli da soli (piuttosto che comprarli in scatola): il liquido di cottura è aromatico e quindi utilizzabile nella preparazione del piatto per il quale aveto cotto i fagioli.

Versare i fagioli nel robot con la lama, aggiungere il succo di limone Meyer, aneto e aglio e far andare il robot. Quando i fagioli sono parzialmente passati, far scendere lentamente il cucchiaio d'olio dall'apertura sul coperchio del robot, mentreil robot continua ad andare. Raschiare la parete del robot per assicurarvi che gli ingredienti vengano passati bene.

Continuare fino a quando i fagioli siano ridotto ad una crema. Aggiungere un po' d'olio e/o di liquido di cottura dei fagioli per ottenere la consistenza desiderata. Assaggiare e, se necessario, aggiungere un po' di succo di limone Meyer. Condire con sale e pepe a seconda del gusto. Riporre in frigorifero.

In una padellina, scaldare mezzo cucchiaio di olio EVO e aggiungere lo scalogno. Cuocere a fuoco dolce fino a quando sia caramellizzata (abbiate pazienza, ci vuole un po'). Salare leggermente e mescolare.

Tirare fuori dal frigorifero il  fasole bătută in modo che non sia freddo al momento di servirlo. Prima di portarlo a tavola, distribuire un po' dello scalogno sulla superficie, a piacere.

con del pane di segale

Ho servito il mio fasole bătută con fettine di pane di segale preparato utilizzando un ingrediente tradizionale rumeno. Ma questa è una storia per un altro post.

Addendum: Cristina de La cucina di Cristina ha scritto questa nota al mio commento sul suo blog: "questa è la ricetta forse piu' amata (e mangiata :-) ) in Romania: come antipasto se si mangia su una fetta di pane, contorno se aggiungi una salsiccia fritta vicino, secondo vegetariano se la mangi cosi o con delle verdure in salamoia (specialmente con cetrioli o pomodori verdi in salamoia).

La seconda volta che ho preparato questa crema di fagioli ho raddoppiato le quantità e usato un misto di menta e timo invece dell'aneto. È davvero buona e posso capire come sia popolare in Romania.

Questo è il mio contributo alla quarta tappa dell'Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea, un evento organizzato dalla Trattoria MuVarA che ci porterà a visitare i 26 paesi della Comunità Europea (eccetto l'Italia) usando le lettere dell'alfabeto come guida. D come Drob (Romania) è ospitata da Cristina de La cucina di Cristina.

Quasta pagina contiene la ricetta di Drob e la lista dei piatti contribuiti all'evento.

 Se siete interessati a partecipare, questo post contiene la lista completa di paesi, blog ospitanti e scadenze.

Related articles

pane di segale con cumino dei prati / caraway rye bread

reginelle / sesame seed cookies

reginella à la Simona

Sicily smells of sesame seeds. Not the actual island, but the Sicily of my memory. I close my eyes, I whisper "Sicilia" and I smell toasted sesame seeds. The same thing happens if I read about Sicily: I open one of my Montalbano books and my nose smiles.

My first visit to Sicily, the summer before I turned 18, overloaded all of my senses in a joyous way: the beauty of churches and other buildings in Palermo, the sticky smell of the hot July days, the pleasant coolness of the sea, the sound of the dialect (of which I learned a few words), the taste of new foods. Of all the novelties my senses encountered, the smell of sesame seeds (semi di sesamo) is the one with highest emotional content. I had never tasted sesame seeds before, not even set my eyes on them. I only knew the name and that they were small.

First, I ate bread with the surface sprinkled with sesame seeds and I was amazed at the amount of flavor the small seeds packed. So, when I saw reginelle, cookies covered with sesame seeds, I did not need any special encouragement to pick one up (gently, to avoid seed loss) and bring it to my mouth. As each bite crumbled in my mouth, sesame seeds were scattered around. The cookie softened but retained a bit of crunch and the seeds teased my teeth into chasing them. A light swetness supported the pleasure without distracting the taste buds. One reginella was a dose of pure and simple pleasure, the memory of which lasted a long time.

I have vivid memories of other foods I tasted during that vacation, from rich gelato eaten in a soft, sweet bun, to fresh fish, from light mini cannoli to intense cheeses, but it's reginelle that feed my nostalgia. When I visited Palermo with my husband a few years ago, I carefully chose the bakery in which to purchase reginelle: I wanted the very best. A bite, stolen when hardly out of the store, sent me back to that summer of many years before, when I first discovered the pleasure these cookies provide.

brought back from Palermo

Until recently, I had never tried to bake them at home, afraid, I suspect, of taking out of the oven something so different from the original that the disappointment would be crushing. Reading again The Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri (1994), the first of the novels that have as protagonitst police inspector Salvo Montalbano, brought me back to my first visit to Sicily and back to the yearning for reginelle, so this time I didn't skirt their calling and set about to make them. First, a note on vocabulary. In Sicilian dialect, sesame seeds are called cimino or giuggiulena. Just let this word tingle your ears: giuggiulena. It comes from from Arabic جلجلا (juljulān, "sesame").

I made several batches, trying a slightly different combination of ingredients each time, in search of the elusive bite of recognition. As I expected, none were exactly the same, and some were further from the archetype than others. The recipe I settled on is good: it makes reginelle that are a pleasure to eat and that have already made a couple of converts to their cause.

Ingredients:

• 200 g all-purpose flour
• 50 g whole-wheat pastry flour or 50 g all-purpose flour
  
• 70 g ultrafine sugar
• a pinch of salt
• 2 g baking ammonia
  
• 40 g cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  
• 20 g cold strutto (rendered pork fat) or 20 g cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  
• 1 large egg (possibly from pastured poultry), lightly beaten to mix white and yolk
  
• 1-2 tablespoons milk
• flavoring of choice: a pinch (1/16 teaspoon) saffron powder + grated zest of 1/4 Meyer lemon; or vanilla sugar + 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract (see Notes)
• plenty of sesame seeds (I used unhulled ones)
  

Notes:

1. The whole-wheat pastry flour is my way of making cookies a bit more nutricious.
2. I had my homemade strutto and pretty much finished it due to all the batches of reginelle I baked. It makes the cookies friabili (crumbly), but it also has a bit of a flavor and that is why I mixed it with butter. You can use all butter.
3. Based upon my reading, baking ammonia is the leavening agent traditionally used in reginelle. I have some I bought in Italy, where it is easy to find it in grocery stores. As you can read on this page, baking ammonia has advantages over baking powder when used in baked goods like cookies.
4. The recipes I read used various flavorings, from saffron powder to lemon zest to vanilla. In my first batch I used a small amount of saffron powder (1/16 teaspoon) I had and liked the result, but then I could not find more in the store and using saffron threads did not give me the same result. I then used a combination vanilla and lemon zest and was not happy, so I removed the lemon zest and used my vanilla sugar plus a bit of vanilla extract.

• If using saffron powder, dissolve it in a tablespoon of warm milk.
• Put flours, sugar (vanilla sugar, if using), salt, and baking ammonia in the food processor and pulse a few times to mix.
• Add butter and strutto, and pulse a few times, until the mixture has the consistency of coarse meal.
• Empty food processor's bowl onto your work surface.
• Make a well in the center of the mounded flour and butter mixture and pour the beaten eggs into it.
• Add the vanilla extract or lemon zest (whichever using) to the well.
• Add 1 tablespoon of milk or the milk and saffron powder mix (if using).
• Use a fork to incorporate the liquid into the solid ingredients, and then use your fingertips.
• Knead lightly just until the dough comes together into a ball. Add a bit more milk, if necessary.
• Shape the dough into a flat ellipse and wrap in plastic wrap. Place the dough in the refrigerator and chill while you get ready for the next phase. 

shaping the dough

Take a kitchen towel, spread it on your working surface and pour some water over it, so about half of it gets wet, but there is no pool of water. Take a round cake pan and pour sesame seeds in it so you have a nice layer. Preheat the oven to 400 F (or 350 F, see below). Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat.

Halve the dough and keep one half in the fridge. The following is how I decided to shape the reginelle and to roll them in the sesame seeds. Place dough on your working surface and pushing on its surface with the rolling pin, flatten it slightly (about 1/2 inch / 1.25 cm thick). With the bench scraper, cut strips (3/4 inch / 2 cm wide) and then cut each strip into pieces (1.5 inch / 4 cm long).

prepping the surface

Place a piece of dough on the towel and lightly roll it with the palm of your hand so its surface becomes slightly damp, then deposit it on the sesame seeds. Shake the pan so the dough rolls around and covers itself with seeds. Gently pick up the seeded piece of dough and place it on the lined baking sheet. Leave at least an inch (2.5 cm) of space all around each reginella. When you become comfortable with the process, you can work with a few pieces of dough at a time. And of course, you can come up with your own version of how to do all this.

I have read two schools of thought in terms of baking: one starts at high temperature (400 F) and then drops to lower 10 minutes after the start and one uses the same temperature (350 F) throughout. I think I prefer the result of the first version, while my husband prefers the result of the second: you can be  your own judge. Either way, I follow the advice of leaving the oven door slightly ajar (1/8 inch / 3 mm) to let the ammonia escape but without letting too much heat dissipate.

• If starting at 400 F, 10 minutes after the start, lower temperature to 320 F
• If starting at 350 F, keep the same temperature throughout

Either way, check the reginelle after 20 minutes from the beginning and estimate the amount of time still needed. The reginelle are ready when the surface is golden. Check the bottom as well: it should be brown but not dark brown. Take the baking sheet out of the oven and move the reginelle to a rack to cool. While the first batch is baking, prepare the second batch as above.

Store reginelle in an airtight container and enjoy. You probably won't think about Sicily when you bite on one, but you should still have a pleasant, crunchy experience.

Final note: reginelle shed sesame seeds throughout their life cycle. I have been collecting them and used them for a second time: the second baking did not affect their flavor, in part, I think, because I used unhulled seeds. I will not use them a third time for reginelle, but I have already used them as toasted sesame seeds on salads.

rolling in the sesame seeds

I have not visited Porto Empedocle Vigata, where the novels are set, but years ago, I spent a month working at the Club Med Kamarina and have been to Ragusa, Vittoria and other places in the area, so I have a sense of the landscape Camilleri describes in his Montalbano novels.

It was interesting to read again the first one of the series. We meet Montalbano and see his charming human touch at work. For example, he lies about his identity to the mother of a young man he wants to question to avoid alarming her. He understands immediately that Ingegner Luparello's wife is a smart woman and the two of them develop a mutual esteem. He may be a bit rough, but his first instinct is to try and connect to the person he is dealing with. 

The most memorable part of the novel is probably the improbable friendship that blossoms between Montalbano and Ingrid, a beautiful Swedish woman accidentally married to an absent Sicilian. The story moves forward to reach the solution. We never doubt that Montalbano will figure out what happened. But the process of uncovering the truth includes also making sure that innocent Ingrid is not dragged into the mud, that the Luparello widow's wish is respected, that Saro gets some money to cure his little boy, in sum, that the chaos of the world in general and of that corner of Sicily in particular, for at least a brief time, is organized in a sort of just order that allows Montalbano a few hours of quiet sleep or a long swim in the sea in front of his house in Marinella.

a cookie from the heart

In an interview (in Italian), Camilleri says (my translation of the transcription):

I wrote the first, then the second [The Terra-Cotta Dog], and said: the end. I wrote the second to better define the character, but then what happened happened. 

"What happened" was that The Terra-Cotta Dog was a huge success. Nineteen years after the publication of The Shape of Water, readers around the world still wait impatiently for the next Montalbano to come out. Long live Andrea Camilleri.

This is my contribution to the 18th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started some time ago and that I continue to host.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

This is also my contribution to the current edition of Cook the Books, hosted by Rachel of The Crispy Cook. You can find the guidelines for participating in the event here, and here is the announcement.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

reginelle

or launch the reginelle audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

cookie, sesame-seeds, Italian recipe

Related articles

semi di sesamo / sesame seeds

orecchiette di grano arso coi broccoli / burnt wheat orecchiette with broccoli

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

a study in contrast

Farina di grano arso is gray and gray are the orecchiette made with it. I have talked about this special flour and how to use it to make pasta in a recent post.

I made orecchiette di grano arso three times so far and I have always cooked some purple sprouting broccoli in the same pot. I harvest them as individual florets (as part of my CSA u-pick share).

vividly colored

A strikingly colored pasta deserves a strikingly colored accompaniment. This broccoli variety loses its purple hue when cooked, but it turns into a brilliant green that offers a nice contrast to the dark pasta. The final touch of color is given by the white cheese sprinkled on the pasta before serving.

pretty in monochrome

Ingredients and instructions to make the orecchiette are given in this post, which includes a short video of my hands shaping the pasta.

Ingredients for the dressing:

• 150 g / 5.25 oz. purple sprouting broccoli, large ones cut in half lengthwise
• 1/2 tablespoon olive oil of good quality
• A clove of garlic, peeled and lightly smashed
• Freshly grated fiore sardo, to taste, but with a light hand

Make the orecchiette and let them dry for a couple of hours (or a bit more: I usually make orecchiette early in the morning and then cook them for lunch).

Bring a pot of salted water to a rolling boil, then toss the orecchiette in it. Bring back the water to a rolling boil and toss the broccoli in it. Bring back to boiling and proceed with the cooking. The time needed to cook pasta and broccoli is short, so don't wander far away from the pot. Also, the time is dependent on size and dryness of pasta, so my directions are indicative: you may find that the sprouting broccoli cook too long if added as I describe, so next time you want to delay adding them.

While the pasta cooks, warm up the oil in a frying pan and add the garlic. Taste the pasta and stop the cooking slightly before the orecchiette are ready. Drain orecchiette and broccoli, leaving a bit of cooking water clinging to them, and add them to the pan with the oil. Turn up the heat a bit and toss gently to coat, a minute or so, then remove from the heat. Discard the garlic, sprinkle some cheese and toss some more. Adjust salt if needed, plate and sprinkle a bit more cheese on top. Serve immediately. The recipe makes two portions.

a steaming plate

The orecchiette taste slightly nutty and smoky, and the broccoli provide a nice contrast with their earthier, but also bright, flavor. A garlicky nuance is there, counterbalanced by the lightly sharp cheese. In sum, a lovely ensemble of flavors.

This is my contribution to edition #374 of Weekend Herb Blogging, an event started by Kalyn of Kalyn's Kitchen, now organized by Haalo of Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once and hosted this week by Simona of briciole.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

orecchiette di grano arso coi broccoli

or launch the orecchiette di grano arso coi broccoli audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

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handmade pasta, broccoli, cheese, Italian recipe

Per i lettori italiani

contrasto di colori

La farina di grano arso è grigia e sono grigie le orecchiette che con essa si fanno. Ho parlato di questa farina speciale e di come la uso per fare la pasta in un post recente.

Ho fatto le orecchiette di grano arso tre volte finora e ho sempre cotto insieme ad esse delle infiorescenze di broccolo viola.  

che bel colore!

Una pasta dal colore particolare merita un accompagnamento dal colore particolare. Questa varietà di cavolo broccolo perde il colore viola quando viene cotta, ma diventa di un verde brillante che offre bel contrasto al grigio della pasta. Il tocco di colore finale è il formaggio bianco aggiunto subito prima di servire. 

eleganza in bianco e nero

Ingredienti e instruzioni sulla manifattura delle orecchiette sono in questo post, che comprende un breve video con le mie mani che formano la pasta.

Ingredienti per il condimento:

• 150 g infiorescenze di broccolo viola (se grosse, tagliatele a metà per il lungo)
• 1/2 cucchiaio (7,5 ml) olio d'oliva
• Uno spicchio d'aglio, pelato e leggermente schiacciato
• Fiore sardo grattugiato fresco, a piacere, ma aggiunto con mano leggera

Fare le orecchiette e farle asciugare per un paio d'ore (o un po' di più: io di solito faccio le orecchiette al mattino e le cuocio per pranzo).

Portare a bollore una pentola d'acqua salata e versarci le orecchiette. Riportare a bollore vivace e versare i broccoli, riportare a bollore e continuare la cottura. Il tempo necessario a cuocere la pasta e le infiorescenze di broccolo è breve, quindi non lasciate il posto di comando vicino ai fornelli. Il tempo dipende dalla grandezza delle orecchiette e da quanto secche sono, quindi le mie istruzioni sono indicative: se vi rendete conto che i broccoli cuociono troppo quando li aggiungete al momento da me indicato, la volta successiva ritardate l'inizio della loro cottura.

Mentre la pasta cuoce, scaldare l'olio in una padella e aggiungere l'aglio. Assaggiare la pasta e fermare la cottura poco prima che le orecchiette siano pronte. Scolare pasta e broccoli, lasciando un po' dell'acqua di cottura, e versare nella padella con l'olio. Alzare un po' il fuoco e mescolare delicatamente pasta e broccoli per un minuto per terminare la cottura, poi togliere dal fuoco. Rimuovere l'aglio, distribuire un po' di formaggio e mescolare delicatamente. Regolare il sale, impiattare (due porzioni), distribuire un po' di formaggio e servire immediatamente.

a steaming plate

Le orecchiette hanno un sapore leggermente tostato e affumicato e i broccoli offrono un piacevole contrasto con il loro sapore "verduroso." Il sapore di aglio è leggero ed è bilanciato dal formaggio leggermento piccante. Insomma, un'ottima combinazione di sapori. 

Questo post è il mio contributo all'edizione numero 374 di Weekend Herb Blogging, un evento creato da Kalyn di Kalyn's Kitchen, organizzato ora da Haalo di Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once, la cui versione italiana è organizzata da Brii di briggishome, e ospitata questa settimana da Simona di briciole.

Questo post contiene il raccolto dell'evento.

zuppa stile caldo verde / caldo verde-inspired soup

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

green goodness

With a name as sensuous as caldo verde (literally, green broth), a soup's future is secure. Who doesn't want to eat some caldo verde? I certainly wanted to, but there was a little glitch: I don't eat sausages, I stopped eating them years ago, for various reasons. I have nothing against chouriço or linguiça, which are called for in the recipe for caldo verde, a traditional Portuguese soup, often referred to as Portuguese kale soup. And I don't like to eat "imitation" something, so I set about making a soup "inspired by" caldo verde, without sausages. I didn't go all the way vegetarian, because I used some of my homemade light chicken stock, but if you substitute that with vegetable broth, you have a vegetarian version of this satisfying soup, perfect whenever you need a good plan to use kale overflowing from your garden.

I actually used a mix of rainbow chard (bietola) from Redwood Roots Farm and Red Russian kale (cavolo riccio) from my garden, cut as shown in this video (starts at around 7:45" — as an aside, I disagree with her assessment of chard stalks flavor: I like making this dish with them).

various shades of greens

For my rendition, I selected this recipe on the BBC site as guide, then, as usual, went my own way, giving precedence to ingredients I had available. In particular, instead of using an onion, I took advantage of freshly harvested baby leeks (porri novelli) and of shallots (scalogni) from my garden's 2012 production. Locally grown, dried shiitake mushrooms add a nice note to the rustic soup and contribute to its earthy color.

Ingredients:

• 7 dried shitake mushrooms
• 3 baby leeks, white and light green portion, sliced and thoroughtly rinsed
• 3 medium shallots, finely chopped
  
• Alternative to leeks and shallots: 1 large onions, finely chopped
• Olive oil of good quality
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
• 1/2 lb potatoes, well scrubbed and diced
• 1 parsnip, well scrubbed, trimmed, and thinly sliced
• 2 cups light chicken stock or vegetable broth, possibly homemade + water as needed
• 1 bay leaf
• Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• 1 bunch of kale and rainbow chard (see below for quantity details)
  
• A generous squeeze of fresh Meyer lemon juice

Before you start preparing the vegetables, place mushroom in a bowl and cover with warm water. Let them fully rehydrate.

Warm up some olive oil in a soup pot and gently cook baby leeks and shallots until soft, stirring often. Drain mushrooms, remove stems (and save to make broth or stock), and slice caps. Add to the pot mushrooms and the water where they soaked, stir and cook for a few more minutes.

Add potatoes and parsnip to the pot and stir well. Add bay leaf, stock and enough water to cover the vegetables well. Bring to a boil and cook gently until potatoes and parsnip are tender and easily smashed with the back of a spoon.

While the soup cooks, wash the greens and separate the leaves from the stalks. (Set aside the chard stalks and make this dish or something else with them.) Thinly slice the greens as shown in the video mentioned above. Basically, chiffonade. Make a stack of leaves, then roll it lengthwise. Hold the roll with one hand and with the other cut thin slices across (as if it were a salame). Make another stack and repeat. I am not a paragon of knife skills as you can see from the photo: the greens should be cut a bit more thinly, if possible.

Season soup with salt and pepper, to taste, then process with an immersion blender. I left some texture in the soup. Add some hot water, if the soup is very dense. Bring soup back to a boil.

My guide recipe instructs to blanch the greens, but I didn't see the need to involve another pot, because the greens I use don't taste bitter to me.

Add as much of the pile of cut greens as the soup can support and as you prefer. As you can see from the photo, I didn't use a light hand here. Simmer for a few minutes, until the greens are tender. Add the Meyer lemon juice and stir well. Adjust salt and pepper and serve this warming and satisfying soup. Should I mention how healthy an nutritious it is?

the view from above

This was not my first foray into Portuguese cuisine. Some time ago, I followed detective Pepe Carvalho's instructions and made an excellent pot of caldeirada (fish soup).

This is my contribution to the third installment of the Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea (European Community Culinary ABC), an event organized by Trattoria MuVarA that will bring us to visit 26 countries of the EU (all except Italy) using the alphabet as guide. C like Canja (Portugal) is hosted by Patrizia of La Melagranata.

On this page you will find Canja's recipe and the list of dishes submitted to the event.

If you are interested in participating, this post has the complete list of countries, hosts and time frames.

This is also my submission for Souper (Soup, Salad & Sammies) Sundays, a weekly event created by Deb of Kahakai Kitchen. 

This post contains the roundup of the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

zuppa stile caldo verde

or launch the zuppa stile caldo verde audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

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soup, potato, kale, chard, Portuguese recipe

Per i lettori italiani

bontà verde

Con un nome sensuale come caldo verde (brodo verde), il successo di una zuppa è assicurato. Voglio dire: chi non vuole assaggiare del caldo verde? Certamente io volevo assaggiarlo, ma c'era un piccolo ostacolo: ho smesso di mangiare salsicce, per motivi vari. Non ho nulla contro chouriço o linguiça, che vengono elencati come ingredienti del caldo verde, zuppa tradizionale portoghese. E non mi piace mangiare prodotti che sono l'imitazione di qualcos'altro, quindi ho preparato una zuppa "stile" caldo verde, senza salsicce. Non ho fatto proprio una versione vegetariana, dal momento che ho usato del brodo di pollo, ma se lo sostituite con brodo vegetale, il risultato è una versione vegetariana di questa ottima zuppa.

Il verde nel mio caso è un misto di bietola "arcobaleno" che ho raccolto a Redwood Roots Farm e cavolo riccio "Red Russian" raccolto dal mio orticello. Le foglie le ho tagliate, come si vede in questo video (cominciando a 7:45" — tra parentesi, non sono d'accordo con il giudizio della chef sulle coste: a me piacciono e le uso per preparare questo piatto).

vari toni di verde

Come guida per la mia versione, ho scelto questa ricetta sul sito della BBC, poi, come al solito, ho fatto di testa mia, dando la precedenza ad ingredienti che avevo a disposizione. In particolare, invece di usare una cipolla, ho sfruttato dei porri novelli che avevo raccolto insieme alla bietola e degli scalogni dal mio orticello (raccolto del 2012). Funghi shiitake secchi di produzione locale hanno contribuito una nota rustica (e in loro colore).

Ingredienti:

• 7 funghi shitake secchi
  
• 3 porri novelli, la parte bianca e verde chiaro, tagliati a fettine e sciacquati accuratamente
• 3 scalogni medi tritati
• In alternativa a porri e scalogno: 1 grossa cipolla tritata
• 2 spicchi d'aglio pelati e schiacciati 
• Olio extra-vergine d'oliva
• 225 g patate, lavate accuratamente e tagliate a dadi
• 1 pastinaca, lavate accuratamente e tagliata a fettine
• 475 ml brodo di pollo o brodo vegetale fatto in casa + acqua
• 1 foglia d'alloro
• Sale fino e pepe macinato fresco, q.b.
• 1 mazzo di bietola o cavolo riccio (vedi sotto per dettagli)
• Succo di limone (possibilmente Meyer)

Mettere i funghi in una ciotola, coprirli con acqua calda e farli reidratare.

Scaldare dell'olio d'oliva in una pentola capiente e aggiungere porri e scalogno. Cuocere a fuoco dolce fino a quando sono teneri, mescolando spesso. Scolare i funghi, rimuovere i gambi (e metterli da parte per usarli come ingredienti in un brodo) e affettare i cappelli. Aggiungere alla pentola i funghi e l'acqua nella quale sono stati reidratati, mescolare bene e cuocere per qualche altro minuto.

Aggiungere patate e pastinaca e mescolare bene. Aggiungere alloro, brodo e abbastanza acqua in modo da coprire bene le verdure. Portare a bollore e cuocere fino a quando patate e pastinaca sono tenere e si possono schiacciare facilmente con un cucchiaio.

Mentre la zuppa cuoce, lavare bietola e cavolo riccio e separare le foglie dagli steli. (Mettere da parte le coste e prepararci questo piatto o qualcos'altro.) Tagliare le foglie a nastri fini come si vede nel video menzionato prima. In pratica, fare una piccola pila di foglie e poi arrotolarle per il lungo. Tenere il rullo con una mano e con l'altra, tagliare fettine fini (come se fosse un salame). Fare un'altra pila di foglie e ripetere. La foto dimostra che non eccello col coltello: i nastrini dovrebbero essere più fini.

Condire la zuppa con sale e pepe, a seconda del gusto. Usare il frullatore ad immersione. Io non ho reso la zuppa proprio omogenea, ma l'ho lasciata un po' rustica. Aggiungere acqua calda, se la zuppa è troppo densa. Riportarla a bollore.

La ricetta guida dice di sbollentare le foglie, ma io non ho ritenuto necessario coinvolgere un'altra pentola dal momento che non percepisco l'amaro nelle verdure in questione.

Aggiungere alla zuppa tante manciate di nastrini quante la zuppa assorbe o a seconda del vostro gusto. Come si vede dalla foto, io sono stata generosa. Cuocere per alcuni minuti, fino a quando le verdure appena aggiunte sono tenere. Spruzzare del succo di limone e mescolare bene. Correggere sale e pepe e servire quest'ottima zuppa, che è anche nutriente e salutare.

vista dall'alto

Questo non è il mio primo assaggio della cucina portoghese. Un po' di tempo fa, ho seguito le indicazioni dell'investigatore Pepe Carvalho e ho preparato un'eccellente pentola di caldeirada (zuppa di pesce).

Questo è il mio contributo alla terza tappa dell'Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea, un evento organizzato dalla Trattoria MuVarA che ci porterà a visitare i 26 paesi della Comunità Europea (eccetto l'Italia) usando le lettere dell'alfabeto come guida. C come Canja (Portogallo) è ospitata da Patrizia de La Melagranata.

Su questa pagina trovate la ricetta per Canja e la lista dei contributi all'evento.

Se siete interessati a partecipare, questo post contiene la lista completa di paesi, blog ospitanti e scadenze.

žemlovka: budino di pane alle mele / žemlovka: apple bread pudding

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

would you like a slice?

Ever since I could read, I have known about Bratislava, the capital of Slovakia, because it is one of the twin cities of Perugia, my home town. But I have never been in that part of Europe, so Bratislava is still a name and a dot on the map.

Recently, I heard on the radio a report on Košice, the capital of East Slovakia, which is the 2013 European Capital of Culture. Hopefully during the year that city and its cultural heritage will become better known to the rest of Europe. 

Browsing the web in search of a Slovak dish that would inspire me, I came across žemlovka, a bread pudding enriched with apples. After reading several recipes for this dessert, I came up with a personalized version, based mostly on the recipe from the BBC site with a couple of elements from the recipe on the Slovak Cooking site. In particular, I cut down the amount of butter substantially and of sugar a bit. I grated the apples left unpeeled and used some of my homemade ricotta instead of farmer's cheese. As a personal touch, I sprinkled the surface with sliced almonds.

I like to identify recipes that are not simply a one-off endeavor, but can become part of my repertoire, and this certainly makes the cut. A light dessert, perfect served by itself or with some of my homemade ice cream, and also nice for a sweet breakfast (colazione) or a brunch.

just out of the oven

Ingredients:

• 1 3/4 oz. / 50 g raisins (uvetta)
• 2 medium apples
• Freshly squeezed Meyer lemon (or regular lemon) juice
  
• 1 1/4 cup / 10 fluid oz. / 300 ml non-fat milk
• 1 tablespoon / 14 g browned butter, cut into pieces
• A bit of regular butter for greasing the baking dish
• 2 pastured eggs
• 1/4 cup / 50 g (unrefined) sugar
• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon (cannella)
• a generous dash of ground nutmeg (noce moscata)
• 3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
  
• 2 1/2 oz. / 70 g homemade ricotta
• 6 oz. / 170 g homemade challah, baked two days prior
  
• 1/4 cup / 25 g sliced almonds

The recipe from the BBC site instructs you to soak the raisins in cold tea. I did not have time to comply, so I covered the raisins with warm water. (Next time, I will use cold tea: I am curious to taste what difference it makes.)

Grate the apples using an extra-coarse grater (or shred them in the food processor fitted with the shredding disk). Sprinkle a bit lemon juice and stir. Butter a baking dish and preheat the oven to 350 F / 180 C. I used a 2 qt. pyrex gratin dish (11 x 7 x 1.5").

Warm up the milk in a saucepan, then add the butter and allow it to melt. Let the milk and butter cool.

Put the eggs, sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla in a bowl and beat with an electric beater at medium speed until well combined. Add the buttery milk and beat briefly at low speed until combined. Finally, add the ricotta and beat some more at low speed.

Cut the challah into 1/2-inch cubes and make a layer in the baking pan. Strain the raisins, discarding the liquid, and scatter them over the bread. Distribute the apples in an even layer on the bread. Pour the batter slowly over the apples. Sprinkle the sliced almonds on the surface.

Bake for about 30-35 minutes until the pudding has set and its surface is golden.

As I said above, my version of  žemlovka is a lovely dessert, lightly sweet and very satisfying.

This is my contribution to the second installment of the Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea (European Community Culinary ABC), an event organized by Trattoria MuVarA that will bring us to visit 26 countries of the EU (all except Italy) using the alphabet as guide. B like bryndzové halušky (Slovakia) is hosted by Terry of Crumpets & Co..

This page contains bryndzové's recipe and the list of contributions to the event.

If you are interested in participating, this post has the complete list of countries, hosts and time frames.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

žemlovka 

or launch the žemlovka: budino di pane alle mele audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

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bread, apple, egg, ricotta, Slovak recipe

Per i lettori italiani

volete assaggiarne una fetta?

Conosco Bratislava, la capitale della Slovacchia, da quando so leggere, dal momento che è una delle città gemellate con Perugia. Ma non l'ho mai visitata, e quindi Bratislava rimane per me un nome e un punto sulla cartina.

Qualche giorno fa alla radio ho sentito un servizio su Košice, la seconda città della Slovacchia in termini di popolazione, che è Capitale Europea della Cultura del 2013, Questo dovrebbe servire a rendere maggiormente note sia la città che il suo ricco retaggio culturale. 

Girando su internet alla ricerca di un piatto slovacco che mi ispirasse, ho incontrato žemlovka, un budino di pane alle mele. Dopo aver letto un certo numero di ricette, ho preparato una versione personalizzata, basata sulla ricetta sul sito della BBC con alcuni elementi della ricetta sul sito Slovak Cooking (entrambe in inglese). In particolare, ho:

• diminuito drasticamente la quantità di burro
• usato un po' meno zucchero
• grattugiato le mele non sbucciate
• usato un po' della mia ricotta fatta in casa (invece del farmer's cheese)
• aggiunto come tocco personale le fettine di mandorle sulla superficie

Mi piace trovare e provare ricette che non siano solo una tantum, ma che possano diventare parte del mio repertorio e questa certamente rientra nella categoria. Come dessert, l'ho servito da solo e con un po' del mio gelato fatto in casa, ed è anche ottimo per una colazione dolce o un brunch.

just out of the oven

Ingredienti:

• 50 g uvetta
• 2 mele medie
• Succo di limone (io ho usato limone Meyer, che è meno acido)
• 300 ml latte magro
• 14 g burro noisette tagliato a pezzetti
• Un po' di burro per ungere la teglia
• 2 uova codice 0
• 50 g zucchero
• 1 cucchiaino (5 ml) cannella
• Un pizzico generoso di noce moscata
• 3/4 cucchiaino estratto di vaniglia
• 70 g ricotta (nel mio caso, fatta in casa)
  
• 170 g challah, (nel mio caso, fatta in casa) di due giorni
• 25 g mandorle a fettine

La ricetta sul sito della BBC indica di far rinvenire l'uvetta nel tè freddo. Per mancanza di tempo, io ho usato dell'acqua calda, come al solito, ma la prossima volta ci provo: sono curiosa di capire che differenza fa.

Grattugiare le mele grossolanamente (a mano o con l'apposito disco del robot), spruzzarle con del succo di limone e mescolare. Ungere una pirofila bassa da due litri e riscaldare il forno a 180 C.

Scaldare il latte in un pentolino, aggiungere il burro e farlo sciogliere. Far intiepidire.

Mettere uovoa, zucchero, cannelle, noce moscata e vaniglia in una ciotola e sbattere con un frullino elettrico a velocità media fino per incorporare bene gli ingredienti. Versare il latte con burro e mescolare a velocità bassa. Infine, aggiungere la ricotta e mescolare ancora un po' a velocità bassa.

Tagliare la challah a cubetti di 1,25 cm di lato e formarci uno strato nella teglia. Scolare l'uvetta e distribuirla sopra il pane, poi fare uno strato con le mele. Versare il liquido lentamente sopra le mele. Distribuire le mandorle sulla superficie.

Cuocere in forno per circa 30 minuti, fino a quando il pudding ha una superficie dorata.

Come ho detto sopra, la mia version di žemlovka è un ottimo dessert, leggermente dolce e molto soddisfacente.

Questo è il mio contributo alla seconda tappa dell'Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea, un evento organizzato dalla Trattoria MuVarA che ci porterà a visitare i 26 paesi della Comunità Europea (eccetto l'Italia) usando le lettere dell'alfabeto come guida. B come bryndzové halušky (Slovacchia) è ospitato da Terry di Crumpets & Co..

Questa pagina contiene la ricetta per bryndzové e l'elenco dei contributi all'evento.

Se siete interessati a partecipare, questo post contiene la lista completa di paesi, blog ospitanti e scadenze.

Related articles

vaniglia pura / pure vanilla

garganelli / handmade garganelli

ready to roll?

When you are done rolling, you get this:

meet Mr. Garganello

You look at garganelli and you think: penne rigate. There are a few differences between the two pasta shapes. In particular, in garganelli the ridges are perpendicular, rather than parallel, to the length, and there is a visible seam. A link tweeted recently by Frank of Memorie di Angelina sent me to an article on garganelli. As soon as I finished reading it, I started planning my rendition.

According to the Encyclopedia of Pasta by Oretta Zanini De Vita, this pasta shape is typical of Emilia-Romagna (like the strozzapreti I featured recently), but it can also be found in Marche and Umbria. The name comes from the dialectal word garganel, chicken's gullet "which the ridged garganello resembles." I am not familiar with the dialects of Emilia-Romagna, but in Italian there is the expression bere a garganella, which means to drink without placing the rim of the vessel on your lips, but letting the liquid drop straight into your mouth.

Zanini De Vita's entry for garganelli is interesting to read in its entirety, in particular because it shows an image of the pettine (comb), the tool traditionally used to make them. They are indeed also known as maccheroni al pettine. I don't have a pettine, but browsing around the web, I saw that the tool sold as garganelli board, to be used in lieu of a pettine, is basically a gnocchi board with a mini rolling pin.

my first version of rolling pin for garganelli

I already had a gnocchi board, so I asked for my husband's help in crafting the mini rolling pin. "We need a dowel," he said. I am used to going to the hardware store to ask for things that are made for one job, while I will be using them for a totally different one. I did not do my homework with the necessary care (see later), so I asked for a 1/2-inch diameter dowel (photo above). The dowel he got me was too long, but a small saw took care of that detail and voilà, I had my mini rolling pin.

I then turned my attention to the logistics of shaping garganelli. The recipes I read for the dough were all over the place: the only common trait was the use of eggs. Most importantly, the recipes did not address my main question: how do you prevent garganelli from flattening?

I decided to use my regular egg dough, which has a certain amount of body due to the presence of semolina and durum flour in the mix. It all went smoothly and I had a lot of fun shaping the garganelli. But then, what I was dreading, happened: my beautiful tubular garganelli slowly flattened while drying. Of course, they were still edible.

in great shape

For my second attempt, I let the pasta dry somewhat between the rolling and the shaping, so that it would be stiffer. It worked: My garganelli kept their pretty shape until I plopped them into boiling water, over an hour after they I had rolled them.

garganelli dressed with mashed avocado

Then, in a grocery store in Oakland, I happened upon dry garganelli and noticed that their diameter was smaller than that of my homemade garganelli. I went home and did a bit more research. The most influential source of information I found is a post that includes a .gif image showing the shaping of a garganello using the thicker end of a chopstick. After reading the post, I got two more dowels: one 3/8-inch and the other 1/4-inch (6 mm) in diameter and again cut a piece from each, about 8 inches (20 cm) long. I then made garganelli using both and in the end concurred with Yuko of Cuisinivity that using a small-diameter mini rolling pin is better. The garganelli made with the 1/4-inch diameter mini rolling pin are less tricky to handle and keep their lovely shape better.

Here are my hands making garganelli:

I follow Yuko's lead in somewhat marking the pasta square by lightly passing the rolling pin over it first. My addition is that when I do the actual roll, I use the side of the board closest to me to direct the rolling action (see where my thumbs are in the video).

As in other pasta shapes I make, the hands move with a balance between not enough pressure, which in this case would make a garganello without ridges and not properly sealed, and too much pressure, which would make the dough square stick to the board or to the rolling pin. 

I have made several batches of garganelli by now, to test the variations described above, and dressed them alternatively with burro e parmigiano and with mashed avocado (I am using avocado in many dishes these days). A Note about cheese: I am submitting the recipe below to a vegetarian event and therefore I am leaving the kind of cheese unspecified. Cheese may be made with calf rennet, for example Parmigiano-Reggiano, or non-animal rennet, so the vegetarian needs to choose accordingly.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for handmade garganelli

The following ingredients yield two small portions. Once you become conversant with the shaping action, double them or more, depending on how many people there are around the table and the rest of the menu.

• 1 extra-large egg
• 80 g (a teaspoon less than 3 oz.) King Arthur Flour's pasta blend, plus more as needed to obtain the dough
• A pinch of salt
• All-purpose flour, as needed, for rolling and shaping
  
• Half a ripe avocado
• Freshly grated cheese of choice, to taste (see Note above)
  

Make a dough using the first three ingredients. Add more pasta flour as needed to get a supple dough. Cover the dough and let rest for at least half an hour.

Roll the dough  by hand or with a machine (on my machine, I stop the rolling at the last one thickness level), flouring as needed (with all-purpose flour) to prevent sticking. Cut the pasta into squares of 4 cm / 1.5 inch side and let rest briefly, while you knead, roll and cut the odd-shaped cutouts.

Starting from the squares you cut first, shape each one into a garganello (see the video above for reference). Place a square diagonally on the board, then lightly roll the mini rolling pin over it in the direction away from you. Hook the corner closest to the board handle on the mini rolling pin and roll towards you, applying a light pressure to imprint the ridges on the outer surface and to seal the garganello. Flour the board and the mini rolling pin as needed to prevent sticking. Place the shaped garganelli on a lightly floured tray.

Bring a small pot of water to a boil. Add some coarse salt, stir and then add the pasta. Bring water back to boiling. Cooking time depends on flour used and thickness of pasta, but it is in the order of a few minutes, so don't wander away, but pay undivided attention.

Since the pasta takes only a short time to cook, prepare the dressing as the water comes to a boil. Put the avocado in a bowl and mash it with a fork to make a cream.

When the pasta is ready, turn off the heat, pour a glass of cold water in the pot, stir and then drain the pasta, leaving a bit of water clinging to it. Toss pasta and mashed avocado, sprinkle grated cheese on it and toss some more. Serve immediately.

This is my contribution to the first edition of Pasta Please, a new pasta-centric event created by Jacqueline of Tinned Tomatoes and hosted this month by the creator herself. The theme this month is: cheese.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

garganelli

or launch the garganelli audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

handmade pasta, avocado, cheese