Sweet Pea Ravioli

I made a long list of justifications and excuses for this post. Guilt has plagued me all weekend, no matter if the above ravioli have proved to be a quite respectable dish.

I will limit myself to list a series of facts, it's your task to draw the conclusions:
1) I've worked for years (too many...) in a so called Italian restaurant, run by Greek owners, with a Mexican pizza-maker, a Vietnamese cook, Brazilian waiters and hamburger with fries as the main course. I was the most authentic thing on the menu;
2) I live next to an Indian Restaurant named Zante (...!), famous up until Oregon for its curry flavored pizza;
3) The most popular sushi on the streets of San Francisco is the California Roll, with avocado and crab, but contenders for the title are the Dynamite Roll, with tuna, avocado, and spicy Mexican sauce; the Caterpillar Roll, with avocado, cucumber and unagi; the Philadelphia Roll, with smoked salmon, onion and cream cheese; and the evergreen Rock 'n Roll, with avocado, eel, and barbecue sauce;
4) Around here if you don't have focaccia, you're nobody, and so even the most famous Irish Bakery in the city has one with tomatoes and onions, perfect for a pint of Guinness;
5) Not only focaccia, but even if you don't have pesto, you're nobody. Spread it on chicken breast, slip it in bean soup, or throw it on a bagel with salmon, and you'll rule the streets. Guaranteed;
6) The latest Italian-French Revolution is called ciabaguette, not a ciabatta, not a baguette;
7) About pizza I shall not talk, 'cause my heart is torn, but if you're interested, take a look here, there's something for every taste;
8) And then, Praguese coffee-shops in the heart of the Latino neighborhood, Chinese-Mexican take-aways, triple cappuccinos with no foam, tofu burgers and vegetarian steakhouses, garlic ice cream, Andalusian tiramisu and tea lattes. Boy, some things do leave a mark. Have pity on me.

Although I don't think I got that far (see Number 5 and Number 7), guilt - I repeat - has haunted me for days, and I feel compelled to apologize.
I apologize to all the purists out there, to the Fundamentalists of the Imperia Pasta Machine and the Zealots of the Wok; I apologize to all the ghosts of Sunday lunches, of past, present and future; I apologize to the Brotherhood of the Ravioli and to that of the Won Ton. And most of all, I apologize to all the grandmothers, mother-in-laws and aunts, to those from Ascoli and those from Beijing. Forgive me 'cause I don't know what I'm doing, let alone what I'm writing, but more than ten years in this gastronomic melting pot have spun my certainties. The only one that still remains in me, the invincible fortress of my taste, is Pizza, the one with capital P, in which I'll always have one blind and unwavering faith. Of this I'm sure, and the rest is just a sand castle. Or a deflatable piece of dough. At least until the next post ...


Sweet Pea Ravioli
with Won Ton Wrappers
for 4

fresh peas, shelled about 250 gr.
green onions 2
olive oil, salt, pepper, mint, grated parmigiano cheese, butter to taste
won ton wrappers 32

The idea is not mine, of course. I found it online by accident; if you do a search for "ravioli with won ton wrappers", Google will open up a whole new world.

For the filling, blanch peas for a couple of minutes, drain and set aside. Cut the green onions into thin round slices and saute them in a pan with a little olive oil, add the peas, fresh mint, salt and pepper and cook for 3-4 minutes. Let it cool off, put everything in a blender with two tablespoons of grated parmigiano cheese and puree until smooth.
To make ravioli, place few won ton wrappers on the work surface and scoop a teaspoon of filling in the middle of each. Brush the borders with cold water, then cover each wrapper with another won ton sheet, trying to eliminate all the air bubbles and pressing with your fingers to seal the edges. As ravioli are ready, place them on a platter and cover them with a cloth.
Cook them in salted boiling water for two minutes or until they come to the surface. Dress them with melted butter, grated parmigiano cheese and a sprinkle of pepper.
And so the ravioli are served.

Note: Seriously, I was really curious to see the result. Won ton dough has a neutral flavor, and this works in favour of the filling, may it be made with peas, asparagus, cheese or whatever your imagination suggests. The difference is rather in the texture of the wrappers; I might call it stickier, or a little chewier. Nothing prohibits you from using the pea filling for some ravioli ravioli, or as an appetizer, spread on some toasted bread.

Bow Tie Pasta

How could I forget? I fall on my knees and ask your forgiveness for this inexplicable mistake.
When I told you about my personal Top Five (aka, the five flavors most bound up with my college years and a lifestyle of leisure...ehm...no, of crazy and desperate studying), I've totally ignored this pasta dish.
But here is my official excuse: at that time it was never me the one in charge of making it, and I preferred to be sweetly spoiled by my friend and companion in culinary/historiographical adventures. In between a Paleolithic potsherd, a couple of yogurts on sale, and one aorist passive tense, sometimes this cheerful and unconventional pasta was just the right thing.
Today, on this side of the world, they'd even call it vegan and it'd be oh so chic. Who would have thought we were so ahead of time?


Bow Tie Pasta with Carrots
for 4

carrots 4-5
bow tie pasta 320 gr.
vegetable bouillon cube 1/2
dry white wine 1/2 cup
garlic 1 clove
salt, pepper, olive oil, parsley to taste

Peel and grate carrots. Heat some olive oil in a saucepan and saute the garlic clove, cut in half, and the half vegetable bouillon cube; then add the carrots with a little bit of water. Cook for about 10 minutes, add wine, salt and pepper. Cook for about 5 minutes longer. Add cooked bow tie pasta to the pan and saute for one minute, adding some fresh minced parsley. Serve immediately.

Spaghetti with Romanesco

Do you think it's normal that one has to wait until in San Francisco to meet this thing for the first time? I don't know about you, but I'd never seen romanesco broccoli face to face before, and I didn't know what I was missing. It's so beautiful, one almost feels guilty to chop it up.

It's not worth to keep puzzling over the best way to use it. To me, broccoli - romanesco or not - means spaghetti with anchovies and bread crumbs: it's sort of the poor (and ignorant) man's version of the pasta coi broccoli arriminati, which just few days ago won second place in the contest promoted by my friends over at Tzatziki a Colazione.

I'd say very very ignorant in comparison, but so good though!!




Romanesco Broccoli Spaghetti
with Anchovies & Bread Crumbs
for 4 people

spaghetti 320 gr
romanesco broccoli 1
salt cured anchovy fillet 2-3
garlic 2 cloves
olive oil, red hot chili pepper, salt, pepper, bread crumbs to taste

Divide broccoli into florets and boil them briefly in salted water (about 5 minutes or less, they should stay crunchy). Drain and put them on the side, reserving the cooking water, which you'll use to cook pasta.
In a large skillet, heat garlic and red hot chili pepper with a couple of tablespoons of olive oil. Rinse and dry anchovies, eliminate their bone, then add them to the pan and let them dissolve in the oil. Add reserved broccoli florets and cook for few minutes, adding some of the pasta cooking water, until they are tender and the sauce gets creamy. Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper.
Drain spaghetti al dente and saute them briefly in the same skillet with the sauce. Toast bread crumbs in another pan and sprinkle them on top of pasta. Serve immediately.

Squid Ink Tagliolini

Few days in advance, here is my recipe for Halloween, taken from the latest issue of Gourmet Magazine. I even stole them the idea for the picture, because I really liked those tagliolini thrown against a black background with no plate.

And with this, I hope you'll forgive me for the canned pumpkin, since I really put a lot of effort into it. Not only I went to the Farmers' Market to buy a nice piece of squash yet to be cleaned, but I even made tagliolini from scratch, retrieving the Imperia Pasta Maker that was standing aside, nice and quiet, in the least accessible corner of my so-to-speak kitchen.
Trick or Treat? What about some spaghetti instead?


Squid Ink Tagliolini
with Squash
for 3 people

For tagliolini:
type O flour approximately 150 gr.
semolina flour 50 gr
eggs 2
squid ink 1 small package
(OK, I admit it, this comes from the package, but if you'd like to go hunting for the impossible fresh squid in San Francisco, please do...)


For the vegetables:
squash about 1 lb. (cleaned)
yellow pepper 1
garlic 2 cloves
shallot 1
black olives a handful
salt, pepper, red hot chili pepper, fresh thyme, olive oil

Peel the squash, discarding the skin and the seeds, and cut it in cubes. Wash the bell pepper, discard the seeds and the white filaments and cut it into small pieces. Place the vegetables on a baking tray, add garlic cloves and the shallot, peeled and sliced, season with salt, pepper, red chili pepper, thyme leaves and extra-virgin olive oil. Toss well, then roast at 425 until vegetables are tender (it will take about 25-30 minutes).

Meanwhile prepare your egg pasta as usual, adding black ink to color the dough, and then cut it into tagliolini (no explanation on the egg pasta, sorry...).
Cook tagliolini in salted boiling water, drain them after few minutes and sauté them shortly in a pan together with the vegetables, adding the chopped olives and few spoons of the reserved pasta cooking water. If you'd like, sprinkle with freshly grated parmigiano cheese (I think it'd go well here, but I omitted it out of respect for the packaged squid ink).

Spaghetti pomodoro

I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly thank spaghetti al pomodoro.
So good, simple and democratic. They could also be linguine, but that's what happened today. And spaghetti it is. To me there is no beef bourguignon, duck a l'orange or bouillabaisse to stand the comparison. I could eat them every single day from here to eternity an I'd never be bored. And when tomatoes are sweet and tasty like the ones you find at the end of summer, then it's really a spaghetti apotheosis.

I'd also like to take advantage of this space to give spaghetti my apologies. Lately, due to my obligations In the Kitchen, I've definitely neglected them, and in order to run after exotic meals, branded dishes and more flashy presentations, I've often forgotten about them and I ended up taking them for granted.

Luckily today some pearl tomatoes sweet as candies intervened to recover my own sanity. Tasting one of them was enough to make me long all of a sudden for one of those minimal pasta dishes, few drops of olive oil, one whole garlic clove, some fresh basil and a sprinkle of black pepper. Dear spaghetti, I admit it: I've fallen again at your feet.
And now I'm asking your forgiveness and I'd like to dedicate you this post, with your own picture and recipe. Please try for once to win your shyness and enjoy this evening as the main hero.

Ladies and Gentlemen, here are the Spaghetti al Pomodoro. Chez moi.


Spaghetti al pomodoro
for two

spaghetti or linguine 160 gr.
pearl or cherry tomatoes
olive oil 2 or 3 tablespoons
garlic 1 clove
salt, pepper, red pepper flakes
grated parmigiano cheese

Wash the tomatoes and cut them in half. Sauté garlic clove in few tablespoons of olive oil, then add the tomatoes and let them cook at medium heat until they get soft and the water they release begins to evaporate. Let the sauce thicken and, if necessary, add few tablespoons of the pasta boiling water. Add salt and some fresh basil leaves, torn apart by hand.
What follows is my personal trick. Heresy or not, I like them this way. Two minutes before straining the pasta, take the tomatoes pan off the stove (they have to be ready at this point), and add the grated parmigiano cheese, stirring well. You'll get a creamier sauce, but still very light.
Drain pasta al dente, sauté it for one minute in the pan with tomatoes, then serve it and sprinkle with freshly ground black pepper (or red pepper flakes, if you like).

Spaghetti Bell Pepper Pine Nuts

Here is a very quick recipe that really tastes like summer. Since it's been unusually hot these days, I thought it would be better to take advantage of the moment : )

I learnt how to make these spaghetti from my aunt, the one and only Aunt Andreina, who during the years has become THE Foster Aunt of several friends as well. That's because when one has a problem, she's always there to open her own Confessional, as she calls it...
To tell you the truth, she doesn't make them very often, because she really is the queen of the pasta sauce with fresh cherry tomatoes, and it's hard to give up that one, even for one single day. I wish you could give it a try! For years, I've tried to replicate that sauce, but - who knows why - it never came out quite the same. Maybe it's because of Cortina's tomatoes (ehm...), maybe it's the oil or the bread she uses to make scarpetta (can't translate this one, you know what I mean, right...?). Or maybe it's simply because I don't have my uncle singing Lucio Battisti while pasta is cooking.
These spaghetti instead always come out just like the originals. Tasty, nice to look at, colorful, and even very fast to make, what else can you ask for?


Spaghetti with Bell Peppers and Pine Nuts
for 4 people

bell peppers of different colors 4
pine nuts 2 tablespoons
spaghetti 320 gr.
garlic 2 cloves
olive oil, salt, pepper, fresh parsley, parmigiano cheese

Cut the bell peppers in large pieces. Place them in a large pan together with a generous amount of olive oil, the garlic cloves cut in half, salt and pepper (if you wish, you can also add some crushed red hot pepper). Let them cook at high heat for few minutes, then cover with a lid and keep cooking at a lower flame until bell peppers are tender (it will take about 20 minutes). In the meantime, toast the pine nuts in a separate pan. Drain the spaghetti al dente and saute' them for one minute in the pan with the bell peppers, adding the pine nuts and some fresh minced parsley. Serve, dusting with grated parmigiano cheese.

Casunziei Rossi

I have a lot of memories related to this dish, since when - I was about 5 year old - I was helping my grandma to seal them with a fork.
Casunziei are typical of my hometown Cortina d’Ampezzo, where every woman has her own recipe. There is also a verdi or green version, where the filling is made with some special wild greens, even if nowadays many use chard or even spinach - ahhhh what a shame! - instead. I like them both, but if I have to choose, I'll take the ones with the beets.
Obviously, I think that the ones made by my grandma Giovanna are really special. Few years ago, when she made them, she would prepare hundreds and have the whole family over for lunch, nieces, nephews and their partners included. Now that she's gotten older, the invite is more selective and we have to fight to be the chosen ones. My brother Kristian and my cousin Francesco are the biggest fan and they always manage to score a seat at her table. To tell you the truth, they even fight on who's able to eat more. If I'm not wrong, my brother still holds the record, when few year ago he was able to eat 89 casunziei! As for me, I've always wondered how they could keep track of the amount while eating. : )
Yesterday I felt a little homesick, and since the weather was cold and rainy, I thought it would be the perfect afternoon to spend in the kitchen. I dedicated them to my beloved Cortina. Don't forget to give them a try, if you happen to be there.


Casunziei Rossi
for approximately 60 casunziei

flour 300 gr. (200 gr. type O, 100 gr. semolina)
eggs 3
red beets 450 gr. (cooked amount)
potatoes 150 gr. (cooked amount)
bread crumbs 1 tbs
salt, pepper, nutmeg, cinnamon, oliv oil
butter, parmigiano cheese, poppy seeds

For the filling, cook beets and potatoes separately. You can either boil them or - better yet - roast them in the oven, wrapping them individually in foil (this way they'll absorb less water and the flavour will be more intense). Peel them and puree them using a potato masher and trying to eliminate as much water as possible. Mix the two, calculating a third of the weight of potatoes and two thirds of beets.
Heat a little oliv oil and butter in a large pan, add a tablespoon of bread crumns (you can also use flour), let it toast slightly and then add the filling, seasoning it with salt, pepper and a generous amount of cinnamon and nutmeg.
Stir and let it cook for about 5 minutes, to absorb the excess moisture, then let it cool down. You can also prepare the filling one day in advance and keep it in the refrigerator.
Prepare the egg pasta as usual, cut out circles of about two, or two and a half inches diameter, put a small amount of filling in the middle, brush the edges with egg yolk (slightly beaten in a cup) so that they will adhere better, close to form a half-moon and then seal pressing the edges with a fork.
Cook the casunziei in boiling water for few minutes, dress with grated parmigiano cheese, brown butter and poppy seeds.
Did I pass the test?