Who Knew Grocery Shopping Could Be Such an Ordeal?

 What’s cooking? Skillet Meatballs with Nectarines and Basil

My first time ordering after the “shelter in place” advisory, I used a service called Favor. It’s online, and once you enter your grocery list, they send an eager young person to the store with it, and the packages get delivered to your house. Because we were all in a fog about the virus and how you could catch it, I was so grateful for the service that the first couple of times, I tipped the young person $20 for a $30 order. Within a couple of weeks, though, the young people got a little less eager and the quality of the delivery started slipping – once, the eager young person actually decided he/she wasn’t interested in my order and I had to start over. When they did deliver, I’d get some of what I ordered, and sometimes an off-brand of what I ordered. You can imagine that when the Kitchen Goddess requests a brand, she expects to get that brand.

I tried going (masked) into the store, at “senior” hours, but the proximity to other people made me so anxious that the minute I walked back into the house, I’d have to take off all my clothes and put everything into the laundry. And shower and take a nap, followed by wiping down every item I bought. The process took pretty much the full day.

So I switched to a curbside pickup that my usual store offers, and even now, I am very grateful for that option. But – not surprisingly – the store likes to sell their house brands more than anything else, and I notice that they’ve gradually shifted the online offerings to skew in that direction. I know they have that other stuff – my beloved national brands – because I’ve purchased them in that store pre-Covid.

But I stuck with it until they started bagging things according to where they came from around the store: dairy, one bag; cookies/chips, one bag; cleaning supplies, one bag. And on and on. One curbside delivery I got had 36 items and they used 14 plastic bags! No matter how hard I try, I can’t get them to use paper and bag more efficiently.

Then one day, the Kitchen Goddess admitted to herself that she yearned – actually yearned – to touch the fruits and veggies she was buying. And it turns out that if you wear a mask and shop at off hours and are careful about the way you move around the stores, it’s not nearly as stressful as it once was. Of course, we’re still wiping down the packaged goods and rinsing the fruits (except the berries) in soapy water, but we’re happy to pay that price for safety. It’s a learning curve.

*  *  *

Even with all this shopping anxiety – and yes, the KG is still having shopping anxiety – I’ve been thinking more about what’s seasonal in this transition between summer and fall. I’m still seeing stone fruit in the bins at my grocery store. I bought some nectarines last week and they were a bit hard, so I put them on a plate in the window of my kitchen, where they got nice and ripe. Then, of course, I liked the look of them on that plate so much that I left them a bit too long for eating out of your hand. That didn’t stop me, though, because I’d found this very nice recipe that cooks them. So the fact that some of the diced pieces were a little less clean cut looking wasn’t a problem.

Stone fruits are really good with pork. Ok, lots of fruits are good with pork. But this recipe, which you can also make with any other ground meat, pulled together a perfect umami/sweet/savory combination of the pork and the nectarines and the basil in my garden. In fact, the original called for peaches, but you have to peel peaches, and the Kitchen Goddess likes to avoid peeling peaches. Nectarines don’t need peeling. Neither do plums, which would also be good in this treatment. Take a look at what’s available at your grocer. And in a pinch, the KG believes that frozen peach slices would work equally well. Once they get cooked, there’s not much difference in the flavor or texture.

I served this dish over rice noodles because it seemed like a fun idea. Having never made rice noodles, I just threw the whole package into the water, and ended up with way more than I needed. Really, a one-cup portion will do just fine per person. The dish would also work well over egg noodles or rice. Regardless of what you use, there’s a definite need for something to soak up that amazing sauce.

Kitchen Goddess note: Rice noodles have about 192 calories per cup; egg noodles have 221. So not much difference, and not much fat in either one, but rice noodles have less. And the fat in rice noodles is unsaturated, which is healthy for you.

Skillet Meatballs with Nectarines and Basil

Adapted from Melissa Clark in The New York Times

Serves 4.

Ingredients
1½ tablespoons fresh ginger, finely grated or minced
3 garlic cloves, grated or minced
1¼ teaspoons of ground cumin
1¼ teaspoons kosher salt
1 pound ground pork (or turkey, or chicken, or beef)
⅓ cup panko or other plain bread crumbs*
3 tablespoons finely chopped fresh basil, plus small leaves for garnishing
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons wine (dry white, rosé or red – KG used a dry white), or broth
2 cups diced ripe nectarines (3-4), or peaches, plums, or frozen peach slices
¼ cup thinly sliced shallots (can substitute white onion or scallions)
1 lime
White rice, rice noodles, or egg noodles, for serving

*Kitchen Goddess note: Panko are Japanese-style breadcrumbs, which are made from crustless white bread in a process that produces a flakier crumb than regular breadcrumbs. If you don’t have any, use regular breadcrumbs, but know that the panko absorb less oil, so they produce a lighter and crunchier end product. Unused panko will keep for 6 + months in a Ziploc® bag in the cupboard. The KG loves panko.

Directions
In a small bowl, mix together the ginger, garlic, cumin and salt. In a large bowl, combine the pork, panko, and basil, and add the spice mix. Using your hands, gently mix everything together, trying not to squeeze or overwork the meat, to keep it tender. Form the mixture into meatballs about 1¼ inches in diameter.

Heat a large (not non-stick) skillet over medium-high, and add the oil. When the oil begins to shimmer, add the meatballs in one layer. Yes, they will stick to the pan at first, so place them carefully. After a minute or two, a browned crust will develop and the pan will get hot enough that you can turn the meatballs... to a position where they’ll stick again! Don’t try to turn them immediately after they stick. Wait a minute or two, then turn again. Once the meatballs have developed a sort of crust over most of their surface, you can easily shake the pan a few times to move them around, further developing a nice evenly crusty exterior. (This shaking the pan while you cook produces for the KG a cool feeling that she really knows what she’s doing. Maybe it will do that for you, too!) Cook the meatballs, turning and shaking the pan, until they are browned all over, 5 to 7 minutes.

Kitchen Goddess note on cooking protein in a skillet/sauté pan: The best way to cook any protein in a pan is to let it sit for a bit after you place it – even though there’s oil in the pan. Here’s what Cook’s Illustrated says about that: “Meat sticks during cooking when the sulfur atoms in the protein react with the metal atoms in the pan, forming a strong chemical bond that fuses the meat to the metal. Once the pan becomes hot enough, the link between the protein and the metal will loosen, and the bond will eventually break.” So now you know.

When the meatballs are sufficiently browned, pour the wine into the skillet and move the meatballs over to one side of the pan, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom (known as the fond – remember fond? It’s the magic ingredient in the sauce, and you don’t get it with a Teflon pan.)

To the empty side of pan, add the nectarines, a pinch of salt and 2 tablespoons of water. When the fruit reaches a simmer, cover the pan, lower the heat to medium, and let it all cook another 5-10 minutes, until the meatballs are no longer pink at their centers, and the peaches are juicy and tender.

Uncover the pan. If there appears to be more liquid than you like, let it cook down for another 1-2 minutes. The fruit should break down into a chunky sauce. If your fruit was less than fully ripe, you may need a few extra minutes.

Stir the shallots/onions into the pan for another 1-2 minutes, until they’re visibly soft. Squeeze the juice from half the lime over everything, then taste and add salt and/or lime juice, as needed. (Tart fruit will likely need less lime juice than sweet.)

Serve the meatballs over rice or noodles (or rice noodles!) with a wedge of lime, and garnished with small or torn basil leaves.

Bon appétit!

Catching Up

What’s cooking? Orecchiette with Corn and Zucchini, Jalapeño, Feta, and Basil

Back when our sons were still in high school, the family had a protracted dinnertime debate, lasting many evenings, as to when – if ever – we’d be supplying our two teenagers with their own cell phones. Of course, it seems like a no-brainer these days, when even middle schoolers have them; but those were the dark ages, and we could barely rely on the boys to hang onto their winter jackets. Why would we entrust them with fancy pieces of technology?

Finally, one night, with frustration practically steaming out his ears, our younger son looked across the table at me and said in his most earnest voice, “Mom – you don’t understand – we’re falling behind.”

We did eventually cave to this desperate plea for relevance, with no dire consequences. But the phrase, “We’re falling behind” has stuck with us as a family meme as my husband and I lurch our way forward technologically.

It came up again this week in the final flourish to get our taxes in on time. For whatever reason – I’ll say it’s him and he’ll say it’s me – we seem incapable of getting each year’s documentation together until the very last minute. Unlike the President and his family, we actually send the government what appears to be the right amount of money in April; we just don’t have all the records in order, and that process of gathering and spreadsheeting and packaging it up takes the next six months.

So the accounting firm we use sent the final forms in an email on Tuesday. Grumpy dutifully printed them out and we signed them.

“Will you please fax these back?” he said.

“I would,” I said, “but the router connecting my printer to the internet died over the summer and I haven’t replaced it.”

That was already too much tech for him, but he understood that we had a problem. “I’ll call around and find a friend who’ll do it for us,” I said.

An hour later, I had to admit defeat. “I haven’t faxed in years,” was the common reply from our friends. The CPA firm suggested scanning the signed forms and sending the scanned file, but the printer that also scans was the one that wasn’t communicating with us, and in any case, neither of us understood how to scan. “It turns out,” I said to my mate, “that once again, we’re falling behind.”

Eventually, we found another dinosaur friend with a fax machine, so the government got its pound of flesh in time. And I now have one more technology to conquer: scanning.

* * *

In the less complicated world of food, I can still get corn on the cob in the grocery stores around here, so I’m hoping that means you can get some, too. If not, I’m sure today’s recipe will be wonderful with frozen corn, because it’s really wonderful regardless. And while the original recipe (from The New York Times) featured only corn, the Kitchen Goddess really wanted a more nutritionally complete dish, so she added zucchini squash. You might want to experiment with green beans (cut into ½-inch pieces) or spinach or broccoli florets. Go wild.

Even with the extra chopping for the zucchini, this is a great dish for those nights when you don’t want to spend a lot of time in the kitchen – and even the KG has lots of them, so pay attention. Once you get your mise en place, the whole process will take 30 minutes.

Mise en place!

The pasta in this recipe is orecchiette, which means “little ears.” Its tiny bowl shape is really fun, and perfect for nestling the corn with a little bit of sauce in each bite, but the dish works equally well with fusilli (corkscrew shaped) or farfalle (bowtie) pasta. Flavorwise, I loved the way the salty feta balances the sweetness of the corn, and the tiny kick from the jalapeño adds a nice, perky finish. As the feta melts, it also brings a rich creaminess to the dish. And don’t forget the basil leaves – fresh basil is still readily available in stores, and the fresh aroma will remind you of the best of summer.

Orecchiette with Corn and Zucchini, Jalapeño, Feta, and Basil

Adapted from Colu Henry in The New York Times, August 2018

Serves 4.

Ingredients

1 pound orecchiette pasta (farfalle or fusilli will also do)
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 jalapeño, finely chopped
4 ears corn, shucked and kernels sliced off (about 3 cups kernels)
2 cups zucchini, cut in ½-inch dice
Kosher salt
8 ounces crumbled feta cheese
½ cup chiffonade* of basil, plus more whole leaves for serving
Flaky salt, for serving (optional)

*Kitchen Goddess note on chiffonade: Easier than it looks, the term “chiffonade” comes from the French word “chiffon,” meaning “ribbon.” As a culinary term, “chiffonade” is a knife technique for cutting leaves into long, very thin ribbons. Start by stacking 8-10 leaves on top of each other.  I like to put the bigger leaves at the bottom and layer the smaller ones on top. Gently roll the stack lengthwise into a cigar shape and slice it thinly across the roll, using a very sharp knife so as not to bruise or tear the leaves. Continue slicing all the way down the roll to the stems, 
then gently toss the ribbons to

separate them. The oils in the 
leaves are delicate so try to 
make the chiffonade as near in 
time as you can to the serving.












Directions

Cook the pasta in a large pot of well-salted water until it is not quite al dente, which will take about 10 minutes (note the directions on your pasta box). Reserve 1-2 cups of the cooking water before draining the pasta.

While the pasta cooks, make the sauce. Start by melting 4 tablespoons of the butter in a large (10-12-inch) skillet over medium heat. When the butter is hot, add the jalapeño and cook it 2 minutes, until it’s soft.

Add the corn and cook about 4 minutes, stirring only occasionally in order to get the kernels to brown slightly. Move the corn to the edges of the skillet and add the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter and the zucchini to the center, cooking another 3-4 minutes. Again, stir only occasionally in order to get the zucchini pieces to brown slightly. Season with salt to taste.

Add ½ cup of pasta water to the skillet, raise the heat to bring the vegetables to a simmer, and cook until the water has reduced enough to become sauce-like, which will take about 2 minutes .

Stir the pasta into the vegetables and toss to mix well with the sauce. Sprinkle the feta cheese around the dish and pour on an additional ½ cup of the pasta water, tossing until the cheese is melted and the pasta is thoroughly covered with the sauce. If necessary, you can add in another ¼ cup pasta water.

Make the basil chiffonade and stir it into the dish. Serve immediately, garnished with the whole basil leaves. Season with flaky salt, if desired.

This recipe makes a great light meal with nothing more than a green salad and maybe some fruit for dessert. Serve with a nice dry white wine, or my favorite, a dry French rosé. Ms. Henry in the Times wrote that the pasta also works great as a side dish for grilled beef, like a flank steak or a skirt steak, but I haven't tried that. Sounds good, though.

Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner... or Overnight or for the Weekend? What’s cooking? Roasted Carrot Salad with Carrot-Top Pesto and Burrata

Nothing focuses the mind quite like the prospect of guests. You’re having friends over for cocktails or dinner, or maybe you’re having a party. Those people will be wandering around your living room, your kitchen, your porch. They’ll be using your bathroom, maybe accidentally poking their heads into the laundry room. In winter, they’ll be hanging their coats in your closet, or piling them on your bed. The more you invite, the more likely someone will wander off the reservation and notice your husband’s exercise equipment that he keeps handy in the corner of your bedroom, or that picture you’ve been meaning to hang that’s been stashed behind a chair for... oh, months. (I will not discuss the piles of books and papers in my office – I won’t live long enough to get that room straightened, so anyone who goes there gets the real me with no apologies.)

Then there are the overnight guests. For however much time, they have full rein over the entire casa, and God knows what they’ll find when they open closets, take a wrong turn on their way to the porch, or decide to make themselves a cup of coffee.

At least these are the tortured thoughts that jog around my brain when the prospect of guests arises. Not that I don’t love entertaining – I’ll invite friends for a cup of coffee or a glass of wine or dinner at the drop of a toque, and I always want friends and family who don’t live near me to come visit. But as the time for those events or visits draws near, I start looking at my environment with fresh eyes – seeing it the way someone who doesn’t live with me might. And I’m almost always horrified at what I find. That towel bar that’s coming loose, the dripping faucet, the rugs that need cleaning, bags of clothing I’ve been meaning to take to Goodwill, ... the list seems endless.

What am I thinking? They’re not trying to buy the place. And most people don’t actually get out the proverbial fine-toothed comb just because you invited them over. I certainly don’t when/if the roles are reversed. But that’s how my mind works.

Inevitably, a few items on my to-do list just don’t get done. Because at some point, what I really want to do is cook for these folks. So the food distracts me and it turns out the guests don’t notice or maybe they do but aren’t telling me. Ah, well...

Our most recent guests were a darling couple from Austin. And the itinerary I put together was as ridiculously crammed as my to-do list. But we had time for a nice lunch on the day they arrived, and I found this truly wonderful salad, a heavenly marriage of roasted carrots and burrata cheese.

Part of what I like best of this dish – other than the excellent mélange of tastes – is that there’s so little wastage. The carrots are small and tender, so you don’t have to scrape them, and most of the feathery tops get used either in the pesto topping or as a green salad accompanying the roasted carrots. If you want to get really compulsive – and I almost always do – save the fronds you don’t use in this dish in a baggie in your freezer for the next time you make vegetable broth.

The other thing I like about this dish is that it affords me a chance to splurge on burrata cheese, that rich and creamy, lightly salty delicacy that first came to us from the Puglia region of Italy. Burrata looks like a small bag, tied at the top. The bag is made from mozzarella, and inside the bag is a soft filling of cream and stracciatella, the shards of cheese left over from making mozzarella. Buy it as fresh as you can find it – most likely from a grocer or cheese shop that gets daily shipments of mozzarella. Central Market in Austin actually makes burrata on site daily.

The recipe is a creation of the very excellent Manhattan Chef April Bloomfield (Spotted Pig, Breslin Bar & Dining Room, and her newest, White Gold Butchers) with JJ Goode, and appears in the book they co-authored, A Girl and Her Greens. And please do not be put off by the length of this recipe. It takes a bit of time because of the separate steps, but there’s nothing hard or complicated about it. Trust the Kitchen Goddess!

Roasted Carrots with Carrot-Top Pesto and Burrata

Adapted from April Bloomfield and JJ Goode.

Yield: Serves 4-6 as an hors d’oeuvre or side dish

Ingredients
For the carrots:
1 bunch (about 20) of small carrots (large-finger size), scrubbed well but not peeled, and all but 1-2 inches of the tops removed and reserved
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt

For the Carrot-Top Pesto:
4 cups (lightly packed) of tender carrot tops (thick stems discarded)
15-20 fresh basil leaves
½ cup walnut pieces
1 ounce Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, finely grated
1 medium garlic clove, halved lengthwise
1 teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil

For the presentation:
1 large (about 8 ounces) burrata, drained and brought to room temperature
3-4 tablespoons Carrot Top Pesto
1½ cups (lightly packed) carrot tops (the most delicate, feathery ones you can find)
10-12 medium-sized basil leaves (if what you have are large leaves, tear them in half right before mixing with carrot tops)
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Maldon or another flaky sea salt

Directions

For the carrots:
Preheat the oven to 500º.

In a heavy, oven-proof skillet large enough to hold the carrots in a single layer (or at least close to a single layer), heat 2 tablespoons of the oil over high heat until it shimmers. Add the carrots, sprinkle on 1 teaspoon of salt, and use tongs to turn the carrots so that they get well coated with the oil.

Sear the carrots for 7-8 minutes, turning them occasionally, until they're browned in spots. The carrots will get softer and more maleable as they cook, so you should be able to reposition them into a single layer.

Move the skillet to the oven and roast the carrots until tender, 10-11 minutes, pausing halfway through the cooking time to turn them.

Let the carrots cool while you make the pesto.( Or you can make the pesto the night before; if so, bring it to room temperature before serving.)

For the Carrot-Top Pesto:
In the bowl of a food processor, combine the carrot tops, basil, walnuts, Parmesan, garlic, and salt. Pulse several times – enough for the mixture  to reach a rough, mealy texture. Then with the machine running non-stop, slowly pour in the oil. Continue to process, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides, until the mixture is well combined. You can make the purée smooth or rough – whichever suits your taste.

If you make the pesto the day before serving, be sure to cover it well and refrigerate it overnight.

For the presentation:

Place the buratta in the center of a large serving plate. Arrange the carrots around the cheese in a haphazard pattern.

Spoon dollops of the pesto here and there on top of the carrots. The Kitchen Goddess likes to serve the remaining pesto in a bowl so that guests can serve themselves more on the carrots or on crostini.











In a small bowl, combine the carrot top sprigs with the basil leaves. In a separate small bowl or a jar, whisk together the olive oil and the lemon juice with a pinch of salt until the dressing looks creamy. (The Kitchen Goddess prefers to use a jar, so she can just put the lid on and shake it until it looks creamy.) Toss the carrot top sprigs and basil with a couple of teaspoons of the dressing, and arrange the “salad” on top of the carrots.

Take a sharp knife and gently cut the burrata into quarters. (This will feel a little like cutting open a water balloon, but fear not.) Drizzle the rest of the dressing over all, and serve.

It will make you want to have guests every day!

Bright Ideas What’s cooking? Creamy Corn Pasta with Basil and Mint

As much as I honor the brave men and women who’ve given their lives for our country, Memorial Day inevitably reminds me of the end of the school year. At least, that’s when it ended when I was in school. We had no spring break, so no need to extend the year to recoup those days.

By the time I got through college, I figured I was done with school. (I wasn’t, but I thought I was.) Then I started work. On Wall Street. In research. I knew nothing, about corporate America or the securities business. Which worried me. Then I realized that, in research, what you do is learn. And in the process of learning about the stock market and the economy and financial instruments, I also learned how much I enjoy learning.

This awareness would come as a surprise to most of my college professors. But I was young when they knew me, and my frontal cortex – that place where judgment and higher level thinking take place – was still in the framing stage.

I still enjoy learning, and in that regard, I’ve recently become addicted to podcasts, downloadable audio files that you can play on your phone or tablet or computer. They don’t provide in-depth knowledge on any topic, but I’m not looking for any advanced degrees, so the “interesting tidbits” approach works fine for me. I subscribe to the ones I like best, so the updates come to me wirelessly and automatically, and I listen to them on my car stereo system through a Bluetooth connection with my phone. Twenty-first century magic. How cool is that?

Here’s my list:

■ This American Life – Journalistic non-fiction stories, ranging from thought-provoking to humorous
■ Freakonomics Radio – Discussion of socioeconomic issues for a general audience
■ Serious Eats – Conversations on food and life with food world professionals
■ The Sporkful – Passionate discussions about ridiculous food minutiae
■ Radiolab – Broad-based documentaries weaving stories and science and philosophy
■ Science Friday – News and stories about science
■ TED Radio Hour – New ways to think, based on talks from the world-renowned TED stage
■ The Splendid Table – James Beard Award- winning program on culinary culture and lifestyle
■ From Scratch – Interviews about the entrepreneurial life with pioneers in business and the arts
■ Wait Wait... Don’t Tell Me! – Humorous panel game show based on current events

So, foodwise, what have I learned? Now, if your eyes are glazing over and you’re wondering if I’m ever going to get to a recipe, the answer is yes. So you can skip down to it now, or maybe you’d like to learn something, too, today...

1. Would you even guess that canned tomatoes are better for us than fresh, locally harvested heirloom varieties? (Amazing, yes? The Kitchen Goddess is having a bit of trouble with this one. She believes the science, but still plans to marinate herself in fresh NJ tomatoes this summer.) Lycopene, the heart-healthy, cancer-fighting nutrient that gives tomatoes (and watermelon and bell peppers) their red color – needs to be heated for best absorption by our bodies. With that in mind, investigative journalist/health writer Jo Robinson says the best product in the grocery store – for lycopene – is tomato paste.

2. Also from Robinson, some vegetables lose their nutrients faster than others. She calls them the “Eat Me First” foods – on the assumption that you shop only once a week and purchase your supply of veggies in one shopping trip. (Ha! The KG has been trying – without success – to do that for ... a lot of years.) So here they are: artichokes, asparagus, broccoli, kale, leeks, lettuce, and spinach. For the most nutrients, you want to eat those foods in the first two days after purchase. For broccoli and kale, in particular, less cooking is best. Robinson says the optimum way to cook vegetables for nutrition is microwave steaming, as short a time as possible. Cooked carrots on the other hand, give you twice as much beta-carotene as raw ones.

[Here’s a tiny Kitchen Goddess recommendation: When you buy broccoli, cook only the flowering head. Use a peeler to remove the tough outer skin from the thick stems (which are almost sweet), and cut them into batons to use for dipping into your favorite crudité dressing. Like this...]

3. Acidic foods – wine/beer, vinegar, and lemon juice, in particular – are a great way to balance the richness or saltiness of a dish. So if you have a soup or sauce that’s too rich, it’s not a surprise that adding a squeeze of lemon or a teaspoon of vinegar or wine will help. But what if a soup is too salty? Same advice: add some lemon or vinegar. Rebalancing the tastes will enhance all the flavors in the dish.

4. You like scrambled eggs for breakfast? You’ll have the lightest, fluffiest eggs if you add salt to the eggs, then let them sit 15 minutes before cooking them. The KG scoffed at this one until she tried it. Yessirree. Try it yourself.

















5. If you’re into making pasta, try making it with egg yolks only – no whites – for a more tender pasta. That’s a recommendation of pasta wizard Missy Roberts, the chef/owner of Lilia in Brooklyn. But even if you’re cooking the dried stuff, she says:
(a) Salt the water. About 2 teaspoons of salt per quart of water (it should taste like the ocean) is the most important factor in cooking the pasta. No oil in the water. If you’re concerned about the pasta sticking together, just stir it frequently.
(b) Be sure to add some of the pasta water to the sauce; pasta water contains starch that helps bind the sauce to the pasta.
(c) Finish cooking the pasta in the sauce – i.e., give the pasta dough an opportunity to absorb the sauce in its final minutes of cooking.
(d) Finally, in serving pasta, add only as much sauce to the bowl as can be handled by the pasta – it should never be swimming in sauce.

* * *

Sooooo.... speaking of pasta. Here’s a perfect dinner for one of those nights when you really aren’t up for much effort. Which describes – even for the Kitchen Goddess – a lot of nights.

I found this recipe last summer in the height of corn season, but I didn’t get around to it until just recently. I’d seen corn on the cob in my grocery store, but it was surely not from any place local. So you want to keep this dish in mind when the fresh stuff actually makes an appearance in July. But for now – when you really want to feel like summer – most of this corn is going to get pulverized, so who really cares if you use fresh or frozen?

Orecchiette on left, farfalle on right.

You’ll be amazed to find no milk or cream in the dish, but the heart of the sauce is nothing more than corn and scallions cooked to complete tenderness, then buzzed smooth in a blender. Layer on the toasty flavors of brown butter and caramelized corn, then tang it up with basil and mint and lemon. Toss in some salty,umami-filled Parmigiano-Reggiano, and you will not be able to stop eating it. The New York Times’s Melissa Clark, who originated the recipe, uses orecchiette (the little ear-shaped pasta), but the Kitchen Goddess prefers farfalle (bow-tie pasta). Use whatever you like, but choose a shape that’s got plenty of surface to hang onto that sauce.

And if you needed an added incentive, I should tell you that it cooks in 30 minutes. That doesn’t count the time it takes you to get your s*** together – assembling the ingredients and that little bit of chopping. But not a lot of time, really.

Creamy Corn Pasta with Basil and Mint

Adapted from Melissa Clark in The New York Times.

Serves 4.

Ingredients

I augmented my scallion greens with fresh chives.

Kosher salt
12 ounces dry pasta (orecchiette or farfalle or your choice)
1 tablespoon olive oil, plus more for drizzling
1 bunch scallions (about 8), trimmed and thinly sliced (separate the white parts from the green)
2 cups corn kernels (frozen or from two large ears)
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more for serving
3-4 tablespoons unsalted butter
½ cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
⅓ cup combination basil and mint, torn or in a chiffonade*, plus extra for garnish
½ teaspoon Aleppo pepper, or ¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes, to taste
Juice and zest of one lemon

*[Kitchen Goddess note: Chiffonade is a slicing technique for fresh herbs: stack the leaves 8-10 at a time, then roll the stack up like a cigar, and slice them thinly. It produces a lovely, fluffy pile of thin ribbons. If you need photos, go here.]










Directions
Bring a large pot of water to a boil, and stir in salt (2 teaspoons per quart of water). Add the pasta and cook until it is 1-2 minutes away from being al dente. Reserve 2 cups of the pasta water, and drain the pasta.

While the pasta is cooking, heat the oil in a large skillet and add the scallion whites with a pinch of salt. Saute the scallions for 3-4 minutes, stirring, until soft, then add ½ cup of the pasta water and all but ¼ cup of the corn. Bring the mixture to a simmer and cook 5 minutes, until the corn is tender.

Transfer the mixture to a blender, along with another ½ cup of pasta water and purée 1-2 minutes on high, until the mixture is smooth. If it seems too thick to pour easily, add more pasta water. Add ¼ teaspoon of salt and ¼ teaspoon of black pepper, and blend briefly to combine.

In the same skillet you used to simmer the corn, melt the butter over medium heat and add the reserved ¼ cup of corn. Cook, stirring, until the corn is tender, which will take about 2 minutes. You want the butter and the corn both to brown, but be aware that the corn will pop some as it caramelizes, so use a long wooden spoon to stir the corn, and stand back from the skillet.

When the corn and butter have browned slightly, reduce the heat and add in the puréed corn sauce. Stir to combine and cook on low heat until the mixture is evenly heated.

Add in the pasta and raise the heat to medium. Add more pasta water if the mixture seems too thick, and cook another minute. Add the scallion greens (about ¼ cup – and you can augment with fresh chives if your scallion greens aren’t up to par), the Parmesan, the basil/mint, the Aleppo pepper (or chili flakes), and ¼ teaspoon each of salt and pepper.

Stir to combine well and sprinkle over the lemon juice. Stir again – lightly – and adjust seasoning to taste. Serve immediately, garnishing with extra herbs, scallions, and the lemon zest. If you have a good olive oil handy, you can drizzle a little over the top.

Put Some Spring into your Step... er, Soup What’s cooking? Spring Vegetable Soup with Orzo

Yup. It’s here. At 5:28 this morning (that would be Central Daylight Time), Spring arrived. Certainly cause for some celebration. I know you want to put away your quilts and your sweaters, throw open your windows, and head out looking for pansies or lettuces or whatever it is you like to plant once the ground thaws.

Trouble is, the ground hasn’t really thawed in most places. And you’ll wish you had those quilts and sweaters available, at least for the next few weeks. Unless, of course, you live in Texas, where it actually is warm enough to plant the garden, but still not necessarily warm enough to put away the sweaters.

KG’s kitchen garden: lettuces and sorrel.

The KG’s kitchen garden: basil, tomatoes, arugula and pansies.

In the meantime, the Kitchen Goddess recommends... Spring Cleaning. Very satisfying and way more fun than doing your taxes. I was making Sticky Toffee Pudding for a St. Pat’s celebration this weekend and was chagrined to find that my self-rising flour carried a use-by date of August 27, 2016. I wasn’t sure how critical that window of opportunity was, so I checked on the web, where I noted that the flex-time was 4-6 months. Let’s see...[counting on fingers] Sept-Oct-.... Well, it appears that I reached almost the 7-month mark. Still, in a desperate effort to avoid that last-minute run to the store, I thought there must be a way to decide if it was really no good.

Then I remembered that the difference between self-rising flour and all-purpose flour is salt and baking powder. Well, I reasoned, if there’s baking powder in the stuff, I can tell by putting some in water if it’s got any life to it. You do remember, don’t you, that baking powder will bubble in water if it’s still working? So I threw a little into a small bowl of water. Nothing. Maybe I didn’t put enough in, I thought. So I put a little more in. Nothing. I poured the whole mess out and tried again. Nothing. Folks, that self-rising flour was as dead as the mice my cat used to bring me. So into the trash it went and off to the store went the KG.

Which is why I spent a bit of time this morning checking other use-by dates in my pantry. I found Melba crackers that should have passed on last March, cake flour in the same condition as my self-rising stuff, and microwaveable popcorn with a best-buy date of September 21, 2015. Yikes – how did I miss that last year?! And others I don’t dare tell you about for fear that you’ll get the wrong idea about me. But it’s a great way to clear some of the shelf space in your pantry. Tomorrow I’ll be giving my spices their annual sniff test.

When you’ve finished that little survey, you’ll be feeling noble and energetic. What to do with that energy? Why, cook! (Notice the difference the comma makes in that little sentence – it’s a totally opposite sentiment without the comma. The Kitchen Goddess loves the nuances of good punctuation.)

For you, I have just the dish. Yes, it’s early for most veggies. But you can pretend. And some – like sugar snap peas – are now in stores, fresh! So even though most of what’s in the soup is fairly standard, it doesn’t cook for so long that the veggies mush up; those sugar snap peas still have a bit of crunch. The real key is the basil and arugula, which give this delightful soup all the freshness of spring, without sacrificing the warmth you need for a while. See how clear the broth looks? Perhaps because the orzo tends to maintain a firmness without dissolving in the way that rice or some other pastas might. And once you get the veggies chopped, it takes very little cooking time. Add some orange slices – it’s still citrus season! – and some French bread with melted cheese, and the meal is complete.

Welcome spring!

Spring Vegetable Soup with Orzo

Adapted from Food & Wine Magazine, March 2017.

 Serves 4.

Ingredients

Somehow, I left out the peas and avocado. But they’re in the soup.

¾ cup orzo
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium carrot, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced crosswise
1 small turnip, cut into ⅜-inch dice
1 small sweet onion, cut into ⅜-inch dice
1 small fennel bulb, cut into ⅜-inch dice
1 celery rib, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, minced
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
4 ounces sugar snap peas, sliced diagonally into ½-inch pieces
6 cups good quality chicken stock
½ cup cherry tomatoes, quartered
½ cup frozen peas
1 small avocado, peeled and cut into ½-inch dice
2 ounces arugula (about 2 cups packed), thinly ribboned
½ cup basil leaves, thinly ribboned

Directions
In a medium saucepan, boil the orzo in lightly salted water until al dente, about 10 minutes. Drain and set aside, covered.

In a heavy soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat and add the carrot, turnip, onion, fennel, celery, and garlic, along with ½ teaspoon of salt. Sauté the vegetables for 6-7 minutes, and stir in the sugar snap peas for another minute.

Add the chicken stock, and bring the soup to a simmer. Stir in the tomatoes and frozen peas, and return the soup to a simmer. Cook partially covered over medium-low heat, for 12-15 minutes, or until the vegetables are fork-tender. Stir in the avocado, and continue to cook the soup for another 3-4 minutes. Stir in the orzo, and adjust seasoning with kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper.

Place a generous portion of basil and arugula into each bowl, and ladle the soup on top. Stir and serve hot.

If you want to make the soup ahead of time, follow directions down to just before the avocado. (The orzo tends to clump a bit if it sits on its own for long, so you may want to break it up before stirring it into the soup. Or you can cook the orzo at the last minute when you’re getting ready to serve.) When you’re ready to serve, reheat the soup, add the avocado, and proceed from that point in the directions above.

It’s Easy to Be Brave When You’ve Got GPS What’s cooking? Zucchini Crudo and Caprese Salad

Before I launch into my story, I want to take a moment to thank Claudio Bisio and Patricia Thomson, of La Dolce Vita Wine Tours for their extraordinary knowledge and endless patience in putting together a most educational and thoroughly enjoyable experience for our group. If you’re interested in a wine tour through Italy, Sicily, Spain, or Portugal, check them out or drop them a line: www.dolcetours.com ● Info@dolcetours.com


Until traveling there, I never understood the true nature of Sicily. I thought of it as an island, populated with dozens of tiny seaside villages. And what is an island but one long continuous beach? So I imagined my trip there to be designed for adding copiously to my collection of sand. I packed half a dozen baggies, figuring that every time we stopped, there’d be sand to collect.

This is about half of my collection. Another obsession. 

So imagine my surprise – and dismay – when Sicily turned out to be an island, yes, but an island of mountains. Steep, rocky mountains plunging headlong into the surrounding sea. According to a geologist friend on this trip, Sicily’s terrain developed from a complex plate tectonic region where three plates (a “triple junction”) collided in a furious mash-up of rock and soil. Hardly a beach in sight. And those tiny seaside towns were mostly clinging to the sides of the mountains or dug like fortresses into the tops.

The view from Taormina.

As our trip wore on, I became increasingly frustrated. From high on a rocky outcropping, I’d occasionally spot a strip of beach, but it was always too far away to reach, and not part of our itinerary, which focused on wineries and ancient ruins. I was thoroughly enjoying myself – but I kept thinking there’d be an opportunity for sand.

First, the wineries: Abbazia di Santa Anastasia is a 12th century abbey now transformed into a winery east of Palermo.

Nero d’Avola grapes at Marco de Bartoli in Marsala.

Learning about wine production at Alessandro di Camporeale winery.

Tasting the wines of Cusumano, at their cellar in Partinico, in a thoroughly renovated 19th century baglio (fortress home).

The Cusumano lineup. These highly innovative winemakers use glass corks.

And then the ruins: the medieval castle at Erice is part of a walled city 2,460 feet above sea level, in the region of Trapani.

The Kitchen Goddess always enjoys a good temple. This one is the Doric temple at Segesta, thought to have been built between 430 and 420 BCE.

More ruins: the Teatro Greco (Greek theatre) dates from the second century BC. Its original use was for gladiator shows.

Then on our last day, as my hubby and I drove back across the island to the airport, I convinced him to take the scenic route. In the back of my mind – ok, ok, in the absolute front of my mind – I figured I’d spot a little beach somewhere and coerce him into stopping for sand. How hard could it be?

I spotted signs for San Stefano di Camastra a full 14km ahead and started working on my mate. “It won’t be hard – we’ll just cut over to the SS113 and pop into town. It looks like the beach’ll be right there. And then Fanny [the name I’d given to the British voice on our GPS system] will get us back onto the Autostrada.” And so, against his better judgment, he took the exit.

It turns out San Stefano is not nearly at the bottom of the hill. But just into the town, I spotted signs for a hotel, the Playa Bianca – white beach?! I was salivating. We followed the signs, but the hotel was only halfway down the hill, so with more grumbling from my driver, we headed farther down. Back and forth the road wound, narrowing all the time. I could see the water coming closer and closer. We made the last turn, and there it was... a small, weather-beaten warehouse with a few boats. Nothing you’d recognize as a beach. Like many shorelines along the Mediterranean, what’s there is smooth rock on top of sand. Sort of like pretty gravel. In fact, a lot like pretty gravel.

But there was water, and wherever water meets land, I call it beach.

My husband did not. “This isn’t beach, Lee. And you can’t get down that incline without hurting yourself.”

I made him get out of the car and at least smell the salt air – which was amazingly lovely and fresh – and listen to the water lapping against the shore. These moments are good for your soul, and his clearly needed a tiny lift.

“Not bad,” he admitted. Then my prince headed back to the car, with a word of caution tossed over his shoulder. “Don’t expect me to come save you.”

How silly he is, I thought. I’m just going over to the top of the incline and collect some of these nice rocks and a bit of sand.

I bent down and had just reached out for a particularly pretty stone when I heard a soft clatter. My reading glasses had fallen out of my shirt pocket. They bounced a few feet down the incline. Oops. And every time I tried to slide a little closer to them, they bounced a bit farther. This will not do. I could feel my husband’s glare through the windshield. Finally, carefully, I stretched out my foot and nudged the glasses up toward my hand.

I was covered with dirt and sand when I made my way back to the car, but I had my glasses and I had my sand. With Fanny’s help, we reversed course – up the hill and back to the Autostrada. And now I have this story to tell.

* * *

With all the travel, I haven’t done much cooking. But many of the restaurants we visited offered a delightful Caprese salad, and there was one night at the house we rented when the Kitchen Goddess appeared and made what I call Zucchini Crudo. So here at the end of the season, when you can still get good tomatoes and basil and zucchini, here are a salad and an appetizer you should try.

The Caprese salad is originally from Capri, but it was literally everywhere on Sicily, so here it is. And keep your hands off that balsamic vinegar. This combination is a perfect blend of flavors with nothing more than good olive oil.

Caprese Salad

Ingredients
■ Get the plumpest, juiciest tomatoes you can find. Do not refrigerate them.
■ Also the freshest mozzarella. If you can find a grocer or cheesemonger who makes the mozzarella fresh each day – and plenty do – that’s where you want to buy it. You’ll be amazed at the difference in texture really fresh mozzarella offers. And don’t refrigerate it if you are serving it today.
■ A small bunch of fresh basil, firm and bright green. Not limp.
■ Kosher salt or sea salt, and freshly ground black pepper.
■ Best quality olive oil.

Directions
Slice the tomatoes and place them on a plate. Slice the mozzarella and sandwich it between slices of tomato, or layer it on top. Place basil leaves either around the plate or on top of the mozzarella. Sprinkle all with salt and pepper. Drizzle olive oil across the salad and serve.

And now for the appetizer...

Crudo means “raw” in Italian, so the term is the one used for sushi in Italy. I’ve applied it here to zucchini, as the vegetable is eaten raw, after briefly marinating in olive oil and lemon juice. It’s the Kitchen Goddess’s own take on a dish she once had in a restaurant. I love the fresh flavor, and it is practically calorie free, so you might want to have an extra plate of the stuff in reserve.

Zucchini Crudo

Ingredients
1 medium zucchini squash
half of a lemon
kosher salt or sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
1½  tablespoons good quality olive oil
1 tablespoon sliced almonds, lightly toasted and lightly crushed

Cut the zucchini into thin slices (about 1/16th of an inch) and arrange in a single layer on a plate. (This part will go faster if you have a mandoline, but mine was 2000 miles away.) Squeeze the lemon juice evenly over the zucchini. Drizzle the olive oil over all and add a light dusting of salt and pepper.

Let the zucchini marinate in the lemon juice and oil for 5-10 minutes, then sprinkle with almonds before serving. Set a supply of toothpicks (or small forks) next to the plate, as it’s too messy for finger food.

Kitchen Goddess note: When I went to make the dish for this post, I found that I had no almonds. What I did have were the toasted and salted apricot kernels I bought on my Danube trip earlier this year. If you, too are out of almonds, try substituting pine nuts or pistachios – just remember to toast them lightly and crush/chop them a bit before adding them to the dish.