Cold Sesame Soba Noodles

Most of the time I think it's great when Daring Cooks has us make things that I'm not normally inclined to make. And then there are the times when I think, 'I knew there was a reason I never ever wanted to make that.'

Like tempura, for example. Every time I see the Iron Chefs make it on TV, I think, 'Wow, that's one thing I don't ever ever want to cook at home.' Plus, I've never met a tempura I've liked. They consistently ruin any sushi dish they come in contact with, and outside of a sushi roll, I've still never liked the particular greasiness of tempura-fried anything.

I do of course realize that I've probably never had really good tempura, so I haven't written it off completely, but I knew that the tempura to change my mind was not going to come out of my kitchen. And sure enough, mine was greasy, mealy, and gross. So there will not be a recipe for tempura in this post. There will, however be a recipe for soba noodles, which was the second part of this challenge.

The challenge recipe suggested that we make plain soba noodles, top them with some garnishes, and serve them with a dipping sauce on the side. Now, I realize that this is a very traditional way to serve soba noodles, but the idea of trying to dip long, stringy noodles into a very thin, watery, and mostly soy-based sauce sounded unappealing, partially because I didn't feel like ruining a shirt.

However, the challenge said that we could use a different soba noodle recipe as long as we attempted to stay true to the spirit of Japanese cooking and keep it clean, fresh, and simple. I liked the looks of this Nigella Lawson recipe, and thought that it fit the criteria.

Sure enough, it's very addictive, insanely simple to make, and it keeps extremely well. I'll likely make it again so that when I'm at work and I have to shove some food in my mouth at 3 a.m., I can just pull these noodles out of the fridge; no re-heating required.

You could keep these noodles simple, or you could garnish them with any number of things, including strips of egg, tofu, or thinly sliced red peppers, carrots, cucumbers, or cabbage. Simple or embellished, they're a delicious meal.

Soba Noodles with Sesame Seeds

(Slightly Adapted from a Recipe by Nigella Lawson)

• 45g sesame seeds (the original recipe calls for 75 grams, but I found that even 45 grams meant a lot of sesame)
• Salt
• 250g soba noodles
• 1 tablespoon rice vinegar
• 2 tablespoons soy sauce
• 1 tablespoon honey
• 1 tablespoon sesame oil
• 3 spring onions

Toast the sesame seeds in a dry pan over medium heat until they look golden brown, and tip them into a bowl. Bring a large pan of water to the boil and add some salt. Put in the soba noodles and cook them for about 6 minutes (or according to packet instructions) until they are tender but not mushy. Have a bowl of iced water waiting to plunge them into after draining. 

In the bowl you are going to serve them in, mix the vinegar, soy sauce, honey and oil. Then finely slice the spring onions and put them into the bowl with the cooled, drained noodles and mix together thoroughly before adding the sesame seeds and tossing again. 

Taste for seasoning and add more soy sauce, honey, or sesame oil as needed. I found that I needed more of everything, but it's up to you. Leave the sesame seed noodles for about half an hour to let the flavours develop, although this is not absolutely necessary or sometimes even possible.

Pasta with Oxtail Ragu

When I came home from the store the other day and announced excitedly that they now carry oxtails, Nick looked at me like I was crazy. And maybe I am, but this cheap, tough cut is much loved by Italian cooks and professional chefs alike. Mario Batali claims that it's the most flavorful part of the cow, so I just had to give it a try.

Because oxtails are tough, bony little critters, they require a braise. In this case, the braise was turned into a ragu, which is a thick, hearty pasta sauce. The stuff they sell in jars is not really ragu--it's tomato sauce. A ragu is a thick, chunky sauce that usually includes a mirepoix and and good bit of wine, but generally no ground beef. Also, it's generally cooked long enough to be considered a braise.

At this time of year, I just love to braise anything and everything, so you'll be seeing a lot of it around here. Braising makes the house smell wonderful for hours on end, and sitting by the fire on a cold night and enjoying those smells is just lovely.

I also love that you can make a braised meal and have the kitchen sparkling clean by the time the meal is ready. This makes braised dishes ideal for company, especially because the meal can even be prepared the day before, and if anything, it actually gets better.

I served this ragu with some homemade tagliatelli, but it would also be delicious incorporated into a simple lasagne. This amount of ragu is enough to lightly sauce four servings, or heavily sauce 2 servings of pasta, possibly with some left over. In the instructions below, I've written for enough pasta to serve 2 people with good appetites. If you would like 4-6 servings of pasta, use 400 grams of flour and 4 eggs.

Pasta with Oxtail Ragu

• 2 1/2 pounds oxtail, cut into 2-4 inch pieces
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1/4 cup canola oil
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 small parsnip, peeled and chopped
• 1/2 small fennel bulb, chopped
• 1 can (15 ounces) plum tomatoes
• 2 cups dry red wine
• 3 small rosemary sprigs
• 3 sprigs oregano
• 3 cloves garlic
• 1 cup chicken stock or water
• 200 grams all-purpose flour
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 teaspoon of a combination of chopped fresh rosemary and oregano
• Pinch red pepper flakes
• Balsamic vinegar*

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees.
Trim the oxtail of excess fat, and remove silverskin, if possible. Season with salt and pepper, and dredge in flour, shaking off the excess.

Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a 6-quart Dutch oven. When the oil shimmers, add the oxtail and brown on all sides. You will most likely have to do this in batches; add more oil to the pot as necessary. Transfer the oxtails to a plate.

Add the onion, parsnip, and fennel to the pan and saute over medium heat until soft and browned, about 7 minutes. Add the wine and increase the heat to high. Boil until reduced by about a fourth, about 5 minutes. As the wine reduces, scrape up the brown bits from the bottom of the pot.

While the tomatoes are still in the can, cut them into pieces with a pair of kitchen scissors. In a piece of cheesecloth, tie up the rosemary, oregano and garlic. Add this herb sachet and the tomatoes to the pot. Put the pieces of oxtail back in the pot.

If necessary, add enough water to come most of the way up the pieces of meat. Bring to a boil, cover, and place in the center of the oven. Cook until the oxtail is very tender and beginning to fall off the bones, about 3-4 hours. Check the meat halfway through the cooking time. If the liquid is no longer coming at least half way up the side of the oxtail pieces, add the chicken stock or water.

While the ragu is braising, make the pasta:

Mound the flour in the center of a large wooden board, and sprinkle it with the salt. Make a well in the center and add the eggs. Using a fork or your fingers, beat the eggs together, then, continuing to use a swirling motion, begin to incorporate the flour, starting with the inner rim of the well.

As you expand the well, keep pushing the flour up to retain the well shape. This takes some practice, and if the eggs break through the wall of the well, all is not lost--just try to combine the eggs and flour as well as you can.

 

When half of the flour is incorporated, the dough will begin to come together. Start kneading the dough, using primarily the palms of your hands. Once the dough is a cohesive mass, set the dough aside and scrape up and discard any dried bits of dough.

Lightly flour the board and continue kneading for 10 minutes, dusting the board with additional flour as necessary. The dough should be elastic, very smooth, and a little sticky. And seriously, this really takes 10 whole minutes--do not try to slack on this part, just find a Zen place and knead away. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and allow to rest for 30 minutes at room temperature.

To roll out the pasta, divide it into 3 pieces (if you're using 200 grams of flour). Make the first piece into a flattish shape and cover the rest. With your plain roller set to the largest setting (lower number), pass the dough through once. Fold like a book (one flat piece in the back, and two pieces folded over on the sides so that they almost meet in the middle) and pass through again. Fold like a book and repeat 2 more times. After the last time, send the pasta through as is.

Then, put the roller on the next smallest setting and pass the dough through. Continue to do this on smaller and smaller settings until the pasta is the right thickness (I like a 6 or 7 on Kitchenaid stand mixers). Lay the dough out on a flat surface and cover with a towel so that it does not dry out, and repeat with the remaining lumps of dough.

When all of the pasta is laid out flat, switch to the fettuccine-cutting roller, and pass the pieces of dough through, one at a time. Sprinkle the dough with a little bit of flour so that the noodles don't stick together; cover with a towel so they do not dry out. 

 

When the meat is ready, remove the pot from the oven. Transfer the oxtail to a plate, and discard the herb sachet. Skim the fat off the surface. If the remaining liquid is not very thick, (ragus are very thick sauces), place the pot over a burner and boil until reduced to the proper consistency.

If you would like a fancier presentation, either use a stick blender to puree the sauce, or strain out the vegetables and puree them in a food processor; return to the pot. If you would like a more 'rustic' presentation, just leave the vegetables as they are.

When the sauce is the proper consistency and the meat is cool enough to handle, pick the meat off the bones and return to the pot. Let the meat warm through before serving. Add the red pepper flakes. Taste for seasoning, and add salt, pepper, and more red pepper flakes as needed. This dish is very good with a great deal of pepper.

In a large pot of boiling, salted water, cook the pasta until al dente, about 2-3 minutes. Drain the pasta and divide amongst the serving vessels of your choice. Spoon the ragu over the top of the pasta and serve. 

*The balsamic vinegar does not have a quantity listed, as I added a few drops only to my own portion. I thought that the dish needed some acidity, and I thought that balsamic would be just perfect, but too much vinegar could have ruined the dish for Nick. For the whole pot, you'll likely want to use about a 1/2 teaspoon. Start with that and taste for flavor; add more if you like.

Note: As I mentioned above, this dish can be better on the day after it's made. Making it the day before is also advantageous because you can skim the fat off the surface of the sauce, and when you pull apart the pieces of meat, you'll be better able to remove the extra fat.

Pasta with Roasted Cherry Tomatoes

This recipe has lately been a favorite of mine. Really, though, it's one of those recipes that's so simple that it probably shouldn't even be called a 'recipe.' It's particularly nice for those nights when you don't really feel like cooking dinner, but would feel like too much of a slacker were you to just throw something in the microwave.

And don't worry too much about the fact that it's no longer technically tomato season--cherry tomatoes are frequently quite satisfactory even in the off-months. The tomatoes, once they've been gently roasted, become concentrated in flavor, and the slight charring adds both flavor and sweetness. The garlic cloves and chile de arbol lend the dish a nice piquancy, and the fresh herbs add some brightness. With some good olive oil and maybe a bit of dried spices, the result is pasta heaven.

You'll notice that I called for a handful of fresh herbs, but did not specify any particular type of herb. I usually use basil, thyme, and oregano, and I've also found that parsley and a bit of rosemary work nicely. You could also try marjoram, sorrel, and savory. That's one of the things that I like so much about this recipe--you can use any herbs that you happen to have lying around, and the result will be delicious.

If you feel like being extra spiffy, you can grate some bottarga over the top before serving. Bottarga is the cured roe sack of a tuna or mullet, and it's highly prized in Italy. I recently aquired some because the fact that I had never tried it was driving me crazy. As to whether it was worth the price, the jury is still out--it tasted and smelled a bit like Nick's fish tank, but not in a bad way. I think that it will grow on me, and in any case, I was not going to be able to let the idea go until I tried it. If you feel like trying bottarga, or if you already have some, this is exactly the kind of dish with which it's usually eaten.

Pasta with Roasted Cherry Tomatoes

Serves 2

• 1 pint cherry tomatoes
• 2 teaspoons olive oil
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 7 garlic cloves, separated but unpeeled
• 1 chile de arbol, broken in half
• A handful of fresh herbs
• 8 ounces pasta, the shape of your choice
• Optional: Italian seasoning and red pepper flakes
• Optional: Bottarga

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Slice each tomato in half and place them on a sheet pan that's been lined with foil or parchment. Toss with the olive oil, salt and pepper. Scatter the garlic cloves and chile de arbol in amongst the tomatoes.

Scatter the herbs over the tomatoes and roast in the center of the oven, until the tomatoes are shriveled and are brown at the edges, about 40 minutes. (Depending on the tomatoes, though, this can take 35-55 minutes.) The tomatoes will look something like this when they initially go into the oven.

When the tomatoes look like they're getting soft, put a large pot of salted water on to boil. Cook your pasta according to package directions. Drain and toss with 2 tablespoons olive oil and a heavy sprinkling of Italian seasoning and red pepper flakes, if you're using them.

Divide the pasta between two plates. Remove the garlic cloves and herbs from the tomatoes, and cover each bowl of pasta with half of the tomatoes. If desired, grate bottarga over each plate.

Ham and Spinach Lasagne

We couldn't decide what to get for dinner the other day, and we ended up buying some dry-cured ham. In the store, it looked like a teeny little ham, but it turned out to be two pounds. Now, two pounds is a lot when you're talking about a wet-cured ham (the only kind we had ever previously eaten), but it's a whole lot when you're talking about a rich, salty, dry-cured country ham.

On the ham's first night, we made a delicious Potato Gratin to go with it, but still had a lot left over. The leftovers made some delicious sandwiches, but I feared that the rest would go to waste. Some brain storming, though, led to the idea of a lasagne.

Now, lasagne is not one of my favorite foods. Yes, it's pasta and I love pasta, but I just don't love lasagne because it's generally heavy in a bad way (not a potato gratin way), the noodles are thick and goopy, and it's just not too interesting.

But I thought that very thin homemade egg noodles might nicely replace the thick, slimy noodles that are generally the undoing of a potentially good pasta dish. Not only would they be delicate and tasty, there would be no need to cook them in a pot of water. There would be no handling of molten hot ribbons of slipperiness, there would be no breakage of noodles, and there would be no messing around with the reportedly sub-par 'no-cook' lasagne sheets.

The other part of the heavyness problem, I thought, was the ricotta. I think that it's a stealth player, in that it seems innocuous enough and light enough, but secretly, it's adding more slimy, gunky heaviness to the dish. Homemade ricotta might be an improvement, but I just didn't have time for that. Therefore, there was to be no ricotta in this lasagne.

The third part of my lasagne plan involved doing away with the ubiquitous tomato sauce. There's nothing wrong with a tomato sauce, and I love tomato sauce, but I just didn't think that it would play nicely with the ham.

Therefore, this white lasagne recipe from Epicurious sounded perfect--no ricotta, no tomato, just a nice bechamel, and I basically made the printed recipe and added the ham and spinach. Like some of the reviewers of the original recipe mention, it is important to taste everything along the way--your bechamel should taste great before it's added to the dish. And don't do what I did and forget to add the flour to the butter before adding the liquids. That's what a bechamel is, and I managed to mess that part up.

Lastly, a lot of lasagne recipes call for eggs, and I've come to the conclusion that the eggs play the same role of saboteur as the ricotta. In fact, I felt like the eggs ruined my laborsome work of art. They turned a silky, beautiful bechamel into a curdly mess, and their flavor almost overwhelmed the more delicate flavor of the white sauce. Therefore, there are no eggs in the recipe printed below.

So mess-ups and all, this is now my answer to lasagne--thin, homemade noodles, a tasty bechamel, and some simple additions. The leftovers are delicious, and if you're expecting company, the lasagne can be assembled ahead of time and kept refrigerated until you're ready to start cooking; just add a few minutes to the cooking time.

Ham and Spinach Lasagne

(Partially adapted from Epicurious)

• A one-pound bag of frozen spinach
• One recipe homemade pasta
• 1 cup finely diced cooked ham, or about 6 ounces prosciutto, diced
• 3/4 cup minced  shallots
• 8 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon (freshly!) grated nutmeg
• 3 3/4 cups whole milk
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 1/2 cup dry Marsala or Sherry
• 1 teaspoon sea salt
• 1 cup grated Parmesan-Reggiano
• Freshly ground pepper
• 1 tablespoon very good extra-virgin olive oil

Place the frozen spinach in a colander in the sink, and allow it to defrost. If it's taking forever to defrost, run some water over it and stir it all around occasionally.

Make the homemade pasta up to the point where it is wrapped in plastic wrap and allowed to rest. Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle.

Cook shallots in butter in a heavy large saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 4 minutes. Add flour and cook over low heat, stirring with a wooden spoon, 3 minutes. Add nutmeg, then slowly whisk in milk and stock.

Bring to a boil, whisking, then simmer, stirring occasionally, just until sauce lightly coats back of spoon, about 1 minute. Do this very slowly, as impatience can lead to a curdled and/or burnt sauce. Remove from heat and cool to warm, stirring occasionally. Stir in Marsala or Sherry, sea salt, 1/2 teaspoon pepper, and 1/2 cup cheese. Be sure to taste the sauce at this point, and add more salt and pepper to taste.

While the sauce cools, squeeze as much water as possible out of the spinach. Place it in a large bowl and drizzle with the tablespoon olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste and toss until combined.

Divide the dough into about 6 pieces, and re-wrap the 5 that you will not be using immediately. With your plain roller set to the largest setting (lower number), pass the dough through once. Fold like a book (one flat piece in the back, and two pieces folded over on the sides so that they almost meet in the middle) and pass through again. Fold like a book and repeat 2 more times.

At this point, you want the pasta sheet to be almost as wide as the rollers, so that as the pasta is stretched further, it becomes as wide as the rollers. After the last time, send the pasta through as is. Then, put the roller on the next smallest setting and pass the dough through. Continue to do this on smaller and smaller settings until the pasta is the desired thickness. For this recipe, I used the smallest setting. You can also use the second-smallest setting if you want the noodles to be a little bit noticeable, as opposed to totally melted into the other parts of the lasagne. You'll have a very long sheet that you will cut to the length of your baking dish.

Spread about 1 1/4 cups sauce over bottom of an 11- by 8-inch baking dish. Sprinkle about a quarter of the spinach and a quarter of the ham over the sauce-it will be a rather sparse covering. Cut your pasta sheet to the appropriate length, and cover the sauce with as many sheets as necessary (you'll probably need 2).
 
Repeat layering 3 more times, then top with remaining sauce and remaining 1/2 cup cheese. (You might not need all of the pasta dough. If not, it can be rolled out, cut into noodles, and dried.) Bake, uncovered, until browned, 45 to 55 minutes.

  

Cooks' note: Sauce can be made 1 day ahead and chilled, covered (once cool).



Zucchini Pasta

This recipe, learned from some Italian exchange students, is one of the first things I ever learned to cook. It's still one of my favorite recipes, although it's so simple that it should hardly be called a recipe. I've added some Italian seasoning and some red pepper flakes, but the original was even more simple, so feel free to leave out the seasonings, if you like. 

If you have one of those gardens that's currently overflowing with zucchini, this is a great way to get rid of some of it. Even my brother likes this pasta, although he claims to not like pasta. How can someone with Italian blood in them not like pasta, I ask?

Zucchini Pasta

This recipe is for one person, but obviously you can double, triple, quadruple it...just don't overcrowd overcrowd the sauté pan--divide up the zucchini if it's too crowded in one pan.

• 2 medium zucchini
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 6 cloves garlic, peeled but left whole
• 4 ounces pasta, the shape of your choice
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 'Italian' seasoning, or a little bit of dried basil, thyme, rosemary, and oregano
• A dash of red pepper flakes

In a large sauté pan, heat a tablespoon olive oil over medium-low heat. Add the garlic cloves and cook, stirring frequently, until the cloves become golden. At this point, you can remove the garlic with a slotted spoon (possibly advisable if you're cooking for other people), or you can leave them in the pan for a more intense garlic flavor.

While the garlic is cooking, slice the zucchini in half lengthwise, and then cut the long pieces crosswise in 1/4 inch pieces, so that you're left with 1/4 inch wide half-moon shapes. When the garlic is golden, add the zucchini to the pan, and increase the heat to medium. 

Sauté the zucchini, stirring often, until all pieces are tender and golden brown, about 20 minutes. You may occasionally need to turn the heat up to medium high if the zucchini is cooking very slowly, or if it's just softening without browning. It should make a constant, very low sizzling sound. While the zucchini is cooking, salt to taste. When it is finished, add pepper to taste, and toss.

While the zucchini is cooking, put a large pot with heavily salted water on to boil. When it's boiling, add your pasta. You'll want to try to time this so that the pasta is ready at the same time as the zucchini. Timing will differ, though, based on your pasta shape of choice.

When the pasta is al dente, drain in a colander, and dump into your pasta bowl. Drizzle a tablespoon olive oil over the top, sprinkle about a 1/2 teaspoon Italian seasoning over the pasta, add a dash of red pepper flakes, and toss. Top with the zucchini and serve.

July's Daring Cooks: Nut Butters

On the 18th, I opened the eagerly-anticipated challenge for July, and my first thought was "Ummmm...Nut butters? Huh?" 


Upon further exploration, however, I thought, "Genius!" I've been reading a lot about cold soba salads, and I had been wanting to try one. I had spent the afternoon craving sushi yet guilt tripping myself about the expense of my bi-weekly sushi habit; but it seemed that with the posting of the Asian Noodle Salad with Cashew Dressing, my Asian craving would be satisfied in a cheaper manner. Instead I'd just guilt trip myself about how much fat might be in a Cashew Sauce. It's good fat, though, right?

Dishes like this one are frequently made with a peanut sauce, but I was intrigued by the cashew idea. That way I could also guilt trip myself about the fact that cashews are more expensive than peanuts. But they're cheaper than sushi, right?

The initial recipe suggested using linguine or thin rice noodles, but like I said, I've been reading a lot about soba noodles. It sounded like a yummy, more authentic alternative, and because they're made with whole wheat, they're relatively healthy. And it's another thing to guilt trip myself about--'Soba noodles are more expensive than pasta. Should you maybe just use some whole wheat pasta?'

Ultimately, though, this recipe made enough for at least 3 days of meals for me, so I'd say it's cost-effective, as well as delicious. If you make this, though, just be careful with the ginger and garlic--they can be quite potent.

I contemplated making the other nut butter recipes, but they seemed rather wintery. I have, however, posted the recipes below, because they sound delicious, and it might be a reminder to me to make them when the air gets a bit crisper.

Blog-checking lines: The July 2010 Daring Cooks’ Challenge was hosted by Margie of More Please and Natashya of Living in the Kitchen with Puppies. They chose to challenge Daring Cooks to make their own nut butter from scratch, and use the nut butter in a recipe. Their sources include Better with Nut Butter by Cooking Light Magazine, Asian Noodles by Nina Simonds, and Food Network online.

Asian Noodle Salad with Cashew (or Peanut) Dressing

Yield: 4 servings

Recipe notes: Customize the salad by adding or substituting your favorite vegetables. Shredded cabbage, bean sprouts, and julienned red peppers would make nice additions. Obviously, you can omit the shrimp, or substitute chicken or tofu or the protein of your choice. The dressing is equally as good with peanut butter rather than cashew butter.

Cashew Butter

• 1 cup (240 ml) cashews (they can be roasted or unroasted)*

Cashew Dressing

• 1/4 inch (1/2 cm) slice of fresh ginger, chopped
• 8 cloves garlic, more or less to taste, chopped
• ¼ cup (60 ml) soy sauce
• 3 Tablespoons (45 ml) sugar
• 3 Tablespoons (45 ml) vinegar
• 3 Tablespoons (45 ml) toasted sesame oil
• ¼ cup plus 1 Tablespoon (75 ml) water
• Hot sauce to taste (optional), Sriracha is a perfect choice if you have it

Noodle Salad:

• 1/2 pound (225 g) soba, linguine, or thin rice noodles
• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) olive oil
• 1/2 pound (225 g) small or medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 2 large carrots, peeled and julienned
• 1 cucumber, peeled, seeded, sliced
• 1/4 cup (60 ml) sliced green onions
• 1/4 cup (60 ml) thinly sliced (julienned) fresh basil
• 1/8 cup chopped cilantro (optional)
• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) chopped cashews (optional garnish)
• Lime wedges (optional)
• Red pepper flakes (optional)

Make cashew butter: Grind cashews in food processor for about 2 minutes until smooth. A cup of cashews will make about the 1/2 cup of butter needed for this recipe. (*Or start with ½ cup (120 ml) prepared cashew butter.)

Prepare noodles according to package instructions in salted water. When the noodles are about 3 minutes from being done, add the shrimp to the boiling water. Drain noodles and shrimp into a colander, rinse, and set aside.Meanwhile, prepare cashew dressing: Combine ginger, garlic, cashew butter, soy sauce, sugar, vinegar, sesame oil, and water in food processor or blender. Process/blend until smooth. Be sure to process long enough to puree the ginger and garlic. You might want to add half of the garlic and ginger, perform a taste test, and add the rest to taste.

The dressing should be pourable, about the same thickness as cream. Adjust consistency – thinner or thicker -- to your liking by adding more water or cashew butter. Taste and add your favorite hot sauce if desired. (If the cashew butter was unsalted, you may want to add salt to taste.) Makes about 1 ½ cups (360 ml) dressing. Store any leftover dressing in the refrigerator.

Combine the shrimp and noodles, carrots, cucumber, onions, cilantro (if using) and basil in a large bowl. Add about ½ cup (120 ml) cashew dressing; toss gently to coat. Add more cashew dressing as desired, using as much or as little as you’d like. Squeeze fresh lime juice over salad or serve with lime wedges. Sprinkle with chopped cashews if desired. Also sprinkle with red pepper flakes if you like spicy food.

Chicken with Curried Tomato Almond Sauce

Yield: 4 servings

Recipe notes: Substitute the protein of your choice for the chicken. This is a smooth sauce, so the onion is removed before serving. If you prefer, dice the onion and leave it in the sauce or substitute a bit of onion powder.

• 1 Tablespoon (15 ml) olive oil
• 4 (6 oz / 170 g) boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
• Salt to taste

Spice Blend:

• 1.5 tablespoons (20 ml) garam masala seasoning
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon (2 ml) ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon (1 ml) black pepper

Sauce:

• 4 tablespoons (60 ml) butter
• 1 large onion, cut in half pole to pole
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 (15-ounce/425 g) can tomato sauce
• ⅓ cup (80 ml) almond butter
• ⅓ cup (80 ml) milk
• ½ to ¾ cup (120 to 180 ml) chicken broth or water, more as needed
• 1 cup (240 ml) frozen peas (optional)
• Hot basmati rice for serving
• Chopped parsley (optional garnish)
• Sliced almonds (optional garnish)

Cook the chicken. If desired, pound chicken to ¼ inch (6 mm) thickness to promote even cooking. Sprinkle with a bit of salt and pepper to taste. Heat 1 teaspoon (5 ml) olive oil a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add half the chicken; sauté 3 to 5 minutes on each side or until cooked through. Cook the chicken in 2 batches, adding more oil if needed for second batch. Dice chicken into bite-sized pieces; set aside on clean plate and keep warm.

Prepare spice blend. Stir garam masala, ginger, cinnamon, and pepper together in a small bowl. Set aside.

Melt the butter in large nonstick skillet over medium-low heat. Add the onion and cook gently for several minutes to infuse the butter with onion flavor. Keep the heat low to avoid burning the butter; a little color is fine. Add the spice blend and garlic and cook for 1 minute or till fragrant, stirring constantly. Add the tomato sauce, stir well, and bring to boil. Reduce heat to simmer. Whisk in almond butter and milk until thoroughly combined with tomato sauce. The almond butter is thick so it takes a while to make a smooth sauce. Return to simmer. Add broth (or water) to sauce to reach desired consistency; return to simmer. Add more broth (or water) as needed to thin sauce as desired.

Remove onion from sauce and discard. Stir frozen peas (if using) into sauce. Transfer sliced chicken to sauce. Simmer gently for a few minutes until peas and chicken are heated through.

Serve chicken and sauce over rice. Garnish with chopped parsley and/or sliced almonds if desired.

Chicken with Pecan Cream and Mushrooms

Yield: 4 servings
Recipe notes: Substitute your favorite pasta or rice in place of the egg noodles. Use fresh rosemary or parsley in place of thyme if you prefer.

Pecan Cream

• 3/4 cup (180 ml) coarsely chopped pecans*, toasted
• 1 cup (240 ml) water
• ¾ teaspoon (3 ml) salt, more as needed
• ½ pound (225 g) egg noodles or pasta
• 4 (6-ounce / 170 g) boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) olive oil, more as needed
• Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Sauce

• 1 tablespoon (15 ml) deglazing liquid (water, broth, wine; optional)
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) olive oil, more as needed
• 1/4 cup (60 ml) finely chopped shallots
• ½ pound (225 g) mushrooms, sliced
• 1 Tablespoon (15 ml) fresh thyme leaves
• Chopped pecans, (optional garnish)

Prepare pecan cream. Grind pecans in a food processor for about a minute or so until smooth, scraping down the sides of bowl as needed. Add water and 3/4 teaspoon (3 ml) salt; process until smooth, scraping sides of bowl as needed. Set aside pecan cream. (*If starting with prepared pecan butter, blend ¼ cup plus 2 Tablespoons (90 ml) pecan butter with the water and salt until smooth.)

Cook noodles according to package instructions in salted water. Drain, rinse, and keep warm.

If desired, pound chicken to ¼ inch (6 mm) thickness to promote even cooking. Sprinkle with a bit of salt and pepper to taste. Heat 1 teaspoon (5 ml) olive oil a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add half the chicken; sauté 3 to 5 minutes on each side or until cooked through. Cook the chicken in 2 batches, adding more oil if needed for second batch. Set aside cooked chicken on a clean plate, cover to keep warm.

Add deglazing liquid to pan if using and stir up any browned bits. If needed, add another teaspoon (5 ml) of oil (or more) to pan for sautéing the shallots and mushrooms. Sauté the shallots and mushrooms over medium heat for 4 to 6 minutes or until mushrooms are tender and starting to brown. Add fresh thyme to the pan. Stir in pecan cream; bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for about 1 1/2 minutes till reduced slightly.

Slice chicken into thin strips. Divide the noodles among serving plates. Add a scoop of the mushroom pecan sauce to the top of noodles. Lay sliced chicken on top. Garnish with fresh thyme and/or a pinch of chopped pecans if desired.  

Gamberi Fra Diavolo

After some research and debate, Gamberi Fra Diavolo, or Shrimp of the Devil Priest, seemed like the perfect dinner for a Tuesday night. This is Nick's perennial favorite at our favorite Italian restaurant, La Scala. In the days of yore, the dish used to be made so spicy that Nick would break out into a sweat. He'd say, "I'm sorry, but I can't talk to you for a couple minutes because I have to eat this before the heat catches up with me."

Unfortunately, the Gamberi Fra Diavolo has not recently been very spicy. In fact, it's been remarkably lacking in fierceness. Therefore, Nick was quite excited by the prospect of adding 4 jalapenos and a tablespoon of red pepper flakes to 2 cups of tomato sauce.

What he wasn't too excited about was picking and chopping three tablespoons of thyme leaves. You'll note that the recipe below does not include 3 tablespoons of thyme leaves. Have you ever tried to pick three tablespoons of fresh thyme?

It incited an expletive-filled rant from Nick: "What kind of m......f.......ing b.... a.. came up with this s...? Probably some a..hole with a prep cook and s..." I felt his pain, which is why we lessened the amount of herbs in general, and substituted some fresh oregano. Thank you, herb garden. 

We ended up using only 3 of the jalapenos, as Nick started coughing while cutting them up and saying to himself, "Wash your hands. Wash your hands. Wash your hands." We've all been there--you cut some peppers, forget to wash your hands, touch some mucous membranes or some sensitive skin...
Well, the coughing led to a taste test, which confirmed that the jalapenos were indeed abnormally hot. As we were cooking for company, we not only cut back on the jalapenos, but the red pepper flakes as well. You don't want to serve your friends something they can't eat, right?

Next time, though, we're going to go all-out. But the point is that if you make this recipe, you should taste your peppers, and adjust the spiciness according to your heat tolerance. We could have handled more fieriness, but there was still enough tastebud intensity to get the endorphins flowing. And, funnily enough, we all suddenly hit a point at which our noses started running copiously. Yummy, right? That's how a box of tissues became the new centerpiece. Luckily, it was a pretty box of tissues.

The meal was quite lovely with a cheese plate, some zucchini fritters, baguettes, and some sparkling Shiraz. And like our friend said, we may as well enjoy some succulent, tasty shrimp while we still can.

Shrimp Fra Diavolo

• 1 lb high-quality dried pasta, such as Barilla, the shape of your choice
• 2 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 6 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 4 jalapenos, seeded and sliced into 1/8 inch thick rounds
• 1tablespoon red pepper flakes
• 2 cups tomato sauce (recipe below)
• 1 cup dry white wine
• 1 lb peeled shrimp
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh flat leaf parsley  

Bring salted water to a boil and cook pasta until a dente, according to package instructions.


Meanwhile, in a saute pan, heat 2 TBSP olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic and jalapenos and cook until softened, about 3 minutes.

Add the red pepper flakes, tomato sauce and wine and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for 4 minutes.

Lay the shrimp in the sauce and simmer until just cooked through, 4 to 6 minutes.Drain the pasta and plate topped with sauce and shrimp, garnish with chopped parsley.

Tomato Sauce

• 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 1 onion, cut into a 1/4 inch dice
• 6 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano
• 1/2 medium carrot, finely shredded
• Two 28-ounce cans whole tomatoes
• 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

In a large sauce pan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and cook until soft and light golden brown, 8 to 10 minutes. Add the herbs and carrot and cook until the carrot is soft, about 5 minutes.

Add the tomatoes with their juice and the red pepper flakes, and bring to a boil, stirring often. Lower the hear and simmer until thick, periodically breaking up the whole tomatoes with a wooden spoon. This will take at least 1/2 an hour, but the sauce can be cooked much longer if you like.

Season to taste with salt and pepper.

  

Sweet Potato Agnolotti in Sage Cream Sauce

Ooooh...the first French Laundry recipe of 10X10.

This might actually be a good time for a little tallying. So far we have:

Two recipes from My French Kitchen, one recipe from Braise, two recipes from Parisian Home Cooking, one recipe from Molto Italiano, and one recipe from The French Laundry. Just 93 to go.

Also, Ad Hoc came in the mail, so it's time for the "random" number generator.

Page 136 is a selection of 10 different salads. While these salads are not necessarily simple, as every salad is actually a combination of a few different recipes, this seems too lackluster. Perhaps I'll pick again.

Page 150 is iceberg lettuce slices with blue cheese dressing, oven-roasted tomatoes, bacon, and brioce crutons. The number generator apparently really wants me to make a salad from this book. Well, this looks delicious, and I had actually planned to make it. Althought it is a salad, it's not necessarily a copout because the recipe requires that you make the dressing, roast the tomatoes, as well as make and toast the brioche. Brioche requires an overnight rest in the fridge, and the tomatoes take several hours to slowly roast, so it's a actually not a wimpy recipe.

By the way, did you know that the formerly tacky, pre-foodie, chicken-soup-casserole-era iceberg is making a comeback? It's true. Look for heirloom varieties of iceberg lettuce at the farmer's market this summer. People are once again coming to appreciate its crispy, watery coolness, and its image is being revamped from a holdout found only in steakhouses, to an unapologetic indulgence. Who cares if it has "no nutritional value?"

So, part of the reason that I liked Nick's idea for this project was because I had been interested in getting back to utilizing cookbooks. I love the tactile act of flipping through a cookbook, marking the pages you like, and maybe rediscovering a recipe that did not previously interest you. But I had been cooking from online recipes for so long that when I walked into my Dad's house this past fall with a book rather that a computer, Hunter was amazed. It was time for a change.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with online recipes. Epicurious, for example, has a wonderful (and extensive) collection, and the functions that enable you to organize your recipes are awesome. With a cookbook, however, someone has created a whole world within the two covers, and when you explore a cookbook, you become a part of that world.

A cookbook can tell a story, and it can teach you to be a better cook. Just about every cookbook has some instructional aspects, and their usefuleness depends on your proir experience. For example, I didn't find anything new in Tyler Florence's Real Kitchen. I chose that book because he has a wide range of seemingly solid recipes, and I particularly liked how a lot of his desserts have savory aspects. When I read the French Laundry cookbook and Mastering the Art of French Cooking, however, I learned a lot.

I first took note of Tyler Florence's book when it was listed in this article that my Dad thoughtfully sent in order to assist me in the search for books for this project. The article purportedly enumerated the best cookbooks of the decade, and Tyler Florence's Real Kitchen was on this list, so when I saw it in the library I decided to give it a chance, and I ended up putting it on the list.

I have to admit that I am not familiar with every book on this 'best of the decade' list, but I have perused many of them. And I have to say that this is a list with some notable errors. For example, the French Laundry cookbook is not on this list. How can it not be? Alinea is first on the list, but without Thomas Keller and the French Laundry, Grant Achatz might not have even opened Alinea. Plus, the French Laundry cookbook revolutionized the way cookbooks are published.

When Thomas Keller made the first edition of this book, everyone thought that he was crazy. They tried to tell him that people didn't want such a lavishly illustrated, complicated cookbook. It went on to sell insanely well, of course, as it is a stunning and inspirational book. Had he not made this beautiful book, would Heston Blumenthal have been able to publish the Big Fat Duck Cookbook, and would David Chang have been able to create the Momofuku cookbook? If you think that the French Laundry is challenging, try one of those books.

I've had my eye on this recipe for a long time, and it's one of the recipes that made me really want the pasta maker attachment for my stand mixer. In fact, if I didn't receive it as a Christmas gift, I was going to make it a Merry Christmas To Me present. Don't deny it, you do it too--"One for me, one for them, two for me, one for them..."

Well, I wrecked my car on Hunter's birthday, which is right before Christmas. Not only did I mess up his party, I had to buy an Audi as the Merry Christmas To Me present, instead of the pasta maker. Well, I didn't have to get an Audi, but whether I got an Audi or a Volkswagen, it precluded buying myself a pasta maker. Lucky for me, Nick got it for me.

So you start by roasting a pound and a half of sweet potatoes with four tablespoons of butter. You scoop out the flesh and pass it through a food mill or potato ricer while it's still hot; this is always an opportune moment for some nice scalding. I didn't take a picture of this step, as I thought it would be better to show you how Hunter feels about the food mill:

(This was actually for the French Laundry recipe Warm Friutwood Smoked Salmon with Potato Gnocchi and Balsamic Glaze. It was very delicious, and very buttery.)

Two pieces of bacon are then lightly browned and added to the sweet potato mixure, along with some nutmeg, allspice, and four more tablespoons of butter. I think Thomas Keller is trying to kill me. With butter.

This filling was allowed to cool and then piped onto the freshly made pasta dough. Okay, I admit it--I didn't pipe it, I spooned it. I was too lazy to get out the pastry bag, okay?

Ummm...I also didn't use Thomas Keller's pasta recipe. "Gasp!" Well, I've attempted it before, and I don't like it. I found that the flour-to-egg ration was too high to make the dough workable. I recently read that West Coast eggs are smaller than East Coast eggs; I don't know if this egg thing is true (although I think I read this in the Ad Hoc book), but it might help explain why I found the dough to be too tough.

I used Jamie Oliver's recipe instead, and it turned out beautifully. The best part is--it didn't smell like placenta! The last time I made pasta, I made two different batches, and both times, the dough smelled overwhelmingly of placenta. If you think about it, this sort of makes sense as an egg is sort of like a placenta, but it was still traumatizing for me and my Facebook friends. As I was working with that dough, I had to avert my face and hope that the resulting pasta tasted better than it smelled. Don't worry--it was delicious.

After the filling was "piped" onto the fresh pasta dough, it was time to form the agnolotti. Much cussing ensued. I mean, the part of the French Laundry cookbook that explained the forming of the agnolotti is a column of about 6 inches of dense type, and I couldn't make much sense of it. It got to the point that Nick offered to make an attempt, because I think he started to worry about all of the sharp and breakable stuff laying around within my reach.


I couldn't not be a pain in the butt, so I complicated the situation by not leaving Nick alone until I was quite frustrated with myself, and with the very concept of agnolotti. "Why do these stupid pasta have to be in such a stupid shape, and why does it have to be so stupidly difficult to make them?" Once I let Nick do his thing, though, he figured it out. They don't really look like the ones in the book's pictures, but they'll do. Thanks, Nick.

In fact, they're rather cute. They look like wrapped up candy.


It was now time to prep the chicken cutlets that had been brining. I had loved the idea of pan-seared scallops with the agnolotti, but for many years, half of the time that we ate scallops, Nick and I would throw up. I don't think it was a matter of food poisoning, as we didn't necessarily throw up at the same time. It hasn't been a problem for a while, so I don't know what that was all about, but it's left us a bit wary of scallops. The ones at Whole Foods didn't look so hot, so chicken it is.

Meals that involve Thomas Keller's recipes tend to come together in a concluding crescendo, and this one was no different: we pan-seared the cutlets, dropped the agnolotti in salted water for boiling, pureed warm creme fraiche and a half a cup of butter (for a half-sized sauce recipe) with some previously boiled sage leaves, strained the cream sauce back into the skillet, made some brown butter, wilted some spinach, tossed the cooked agnolotti with the cream sauce, plated the spinach, plated the chicken, strewed the agnolotti around, and drizzled them with brown butter. Whew.

Did I mention that Thomas Keller is trying to kill me with butter? Have you been keeping track? I'm not eating again until my birthday dinner.


I have another confession--I didn't make the fried sage leaves, and I forgot to put the julienned prosciutto on the initial plating.

Well, it was delicious anyway. The filling was sweet and buttery without being too dense and heavy, and the sage cream sauce nicely complimented the sweet and salty aspects of the agnolotti. The pasta was tasty, and if it was a bit too chewy, I'll just tell myself that it provided a nice counterpoint to the meltingly soft sweet potato filling.


The best part was that while you could certainly tell that the sage was there, and it played well with the other flavors, you almost had to go looking for a distinct taste of it. The execution of this recipe wasn't perfect (especially my sucky plating), but it was quite satisfactory. This, too, will go on the repeat list.

Sweet Potato Agnolotti in in Sage Cream Sauce

(From the The French Laundry Cookbook)

Sweet Potato Filling

• 1 1/2 pounds sweet potatoes
• 8 tablespoons (4 ounces) unsalted butter
• 2 slices bacon, frozen and cut into 1/4-inch dice
• Pinch of allspice or nutmeg
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 recipe for pasta dough

Sage Cream

• 1/3 cup sage leaves (save the smaller leaves for the fried sage leaf garnish)
• 1 cup creme fraiche
• 1 cup Buerre Monte (below)
• Pinch of Kosher salt, or to taste
• Canola oil for deep-frying
• 48 tiny sage leaves (reserved from above)
• 2 tablespoons (1 ounce) unsalted butter
• 4 thin slices prosciutto, cut crosswise into fine julienne

For the sweet potato filling:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Cut the ends off the potatoes and wrap the potatoes individually in aluminum foil, dividing 4 tablespoons of the butter evenly between them. Bake until they are soft, 1 to 2 hours (the time will vary, depending on the size of the potatoes).


Unwrap the cooked potatoes and cut a slit lengthwise in the skin of each. Pull the skin away from the potato and discard. Push the potatoes through a potato ricer while they are hot and place in a saucepan.


Place the diced bacon in a skillet. Cook until it is lightly browned and the fat has been rendered. Transfer the bacon pieces to paper towels to drain briefly, then add them to the potatoes.


Stir the potatoes over low heat, seasoning to taste with the nutmeg or allspice and salt and pepper. Mix in the remaining 4 tablespoons butter. You will have about 1 2/3 cups filling (enough to fill 48 agnolotti). Refrigerate the filling until chilled, or for up to 2 days, before filling the agnolotti.


Divide the dough into 2 or 3 pieces. Run the dough through a pasta machine as for ravioli, but make the sheets wider. The size will vary according to the pasta machine used, but the sheets should be at least 5 inches wide. It is important that the pasta sheet be thin enough so that you can see your fingers through it, but not so thin that it's translucent. Keep the pasta sheets covered, as they dry out quickly.


Lay the pasta sheets, one at a time, on a lightly floured work surface with the long side facing you. Trim the edges so they are straight. Place the agnolotti filling in a pastry bag fitted with a 1/2-inch plain tip. Pipe a 'tube' of filling across the bottom of the pasta sheet, leaving a 3/4-inch border of pasta along the left, right, and bottom edges.


Pull the bottom edge of the pasta up and over the filling. Seal the agnolotti by carefully molding the pasta over the filling and pressing lightly with your index finger to seal the edge of the dough to the pasta sheet; don't drag your finger along the dough to seal, or you risk riping the dough.


When it is sealed, there should be about 1/2-inch of excess dough visible above the tube of filling (where you sealed it). Be certain that you are sealing tightly while pressing out any air pockets. Seal the left and right ends of the dough.


Starting at one end, place the thumb and forefinger of each hand together as if you were going to pinch something, and, leaving about 1 inch of space between your hands and holding your fingers vertically, pinch the filling in 1-inch increments, making about 3/4 inch of 'pinched' area between the agnolotti, or when the agnolotti are separated, they might come unsealed.


Run a crimped pastry wheel along the top of the folded-over dough, separating the strip of filled pockets from the remainder of the pasta sheet. Don't cut too close to the filling, or you risk breaking the seal. Separate the individual agnolotti by cutting through the center of each pinched area, rolling the pastry wheel away from you.


Working quickly, place the agnolotti on a baking sheet dusted with a thin layer of cornmeal, which will help prevent sticking. Don't let the agnolotti touch each other, or they may stick together. Repeat the same procedure with the remainder of the pasta sheets.


For the sage cream, blanch the sage leaves in boiling water for 2 minutes. Drain, cool in cold water, and drain again. Squeeze the leaves dry.


Heat the creme fraiche, buerre monte, and salt over low heat until hot; do not boil. Place the sage in a blender and process to chop it. With the motor running, pour the hot cream mixture through the top and blend thoroughly. Strain the cream into a large skillet. Check the seasoning and set aside.


In a small pot, heat oil for deep frying to 275 degrees. Fry the small sage leaves briefly, just until they are crisp (their color should not change), and dry on paper towels. 


Place the butter in a skillet over medium heat and cook to a nutty brown color; reduce the heat and keep warm. Meanwhile, cook the agnolotti in a large pot of lightly salted boiling water until cooked through, 4 to 5 minutes.


Drain the cooked agnolotti and mix them gently with the sage cream sauce over low heat. Divide the agnolotti among six serving dishes and drizzle with the browned butter. Scatter some prosciutto over each serving and garnish with the fried sage leaves.

Buerre Monte

A little bit of butter helps the emulsion process: Whether you emulsify 4 tablespoons (2 ounces) or 1 pound of butter, just a tablespoon of water will do. 


Bring the water to a boil in an appropriate-size saucepan. Reduce the heat to low and begin whisking chunks of butter into the water, bit by bit to emulsify. Once you have established the emulsion, you can continue to add pieces of butter until you have the quantity of buerre monte that you need.


It is important to keep the level of heat gentle and consistent in order to maintain the emulsification. Make the buerre monte close to the time it will be used and keep it in a warm place. If you have extra buerre monte, it can be refrigerated and then reheated to use as melted butter, or clarified.