Today’s Special: Amaro Nonino at Corso 32

Cream and I were lucky enough to finish the last of this pretty bottle of Amaro at the end of our gorgeous meal at Corso 32 this summer. Amaro means “bitter” in Italian, and this delicate and earthy herbal liqueur is perfect for sipping and savouring. It’s the kind of old world goodness that only comes with centuries of perfecting. If the nuns at the Santa Maria Novella Farmacia had started making liqueur for Catherine de’ Medici instead of perfect perfume, I’m pretty sure it would taste like Amaro Nonino. Cin cin!

This is a love story. Old world style. With Mama’s and Papa’s and the whole family in the mix. On 118th Avenue in the heart of Alberta Avenue in Edmonton, a little shop called Battista’s Calzone Company opened in October 2010…and you can taste the dedication to goodness in a hot little bundle.

It would seem that the principle of doing one thing, and doing it well, is finding success among Edmonton’s independent food establishments…from coffee gurus at Transcend, to macaron magicians at Duchess, to Liege waffle experts at Eva Sweet, to the BBQ king at Bubba’s BBQ and Smokehouse, these local masters are finding faithful followings from their food loving fans.

With a little monkey who has a serious aversion to all things vehicular, I was fortunate enough to have my food loving sister volunteer to deliver calzones from 118th Avenue to my little house in Allendale. She arrived with the food and the story, which was later elaborated upon by my food loving Aunt and Uncle.

First the food. With four selections to choose from, I was immediately drawn to the meatball calzone. Handmade meatballs, mozzarella, in a golden crust. Good decision. Even after being transported across the city, it was perfection. Tender perfectly seasoned meatballs, lovely delicate tomato sauce, generous mozzarella, chewy but soft golden crust, assembled perfectly for one handed eating. This was no beginner calzone. You only need four things on the menu when those four things are expertly executed. I’m not ashamed to say that I had no problem finishing the whole thing off despite its generous size.

The accompanying stories of this charming, gentlemanly, famiglia loving owner made me love Battista’s calzone even more. Treating each customer as if they are a guest in his home, asking real questions about their experience of his food because he ALWAYS wants to keep making his product better and better, insisting upon helping my sister and her bundle of piping hot calzones and Oranginas to the car, and telling my Aunt and Uncle that he has had a hard time convincing his Italian mother than she simply cannot make each and every meatball that goes into his calzones herself.

Old school charm, plus mama’s recipe for meatballs, plus dedication to making the best calzone in town, equals a recipe for success. If you haven’t already, then you must go and meet Battista AND his delicious calzones…and if Allendale happens to be on your way back home, I’ll take a meatball calzone please…extra sauce and an Orangina. Grazie mille!

If there is one thing in my repertoire that I do as often as cereal, it’s pasta.  It’s easy cooking, satisfies carb cravings and is an excellent vehicle for cheese of pretty much any variety.  I like red sauce, but I rarely have any in my fridge or pantry.   I almost always have aglio e olio ingredients, however.  On this occasion, I also had an open bottle of red wine that was past its drink-by date (I know, how could I?  Believe me, I do know.) and some green veggies.  I took a nod from my David Rocco cookbook and made this drunken pasta.

Dining companion:  No Reservations:  New York’s Outer Burroughs

Cook pasta of your choice in boiling salted water until about 2-3 minutes shy of al dente, which is usually at least 2 minutes less than what the package tells you.
During the last minute or so of cooking, drop in your chopped asparagus and broccoli.
Meanwhile, saute a chopped clove of garlic and some chili flakes (to your heat preference, I do at least a teaspoon) in a few teaspoons of olive oil over medium heat in a pan, until fragrant and garlic is golden.
Add about two-thirds of a cup of wine and then raise the heat slightly.  Be careful of splatters.  Add the par-cooked pasta and veg to pan.  Stir pasta with sauce until wine has been absorbed by pasta/reduced to almost nil.
Salt, pepper, cheese.

]]> http://creamandsugar.ca/red-wine-david-rocco-drunken-pasta/feed/ 2 http://creamandsugar.ca/breaking-bertazzoni-osso-buco/ http://creamandsugar.ca/breaking-bertazzoni-osso-buco/#comments Sun, 07 Mar 2010 23:20:43 +0000 sugar http://creamandsugar.ca/?p=946 When our $600 gas range, purchased twelve years ago during our university student years and selected because it was the absolute cheapest gas option we could find, decided to start taking one hour to heat to barely 300 degrees, we questioned the sense in fixing it. It seemed like the perfect moment to seize the opportunity and go shopping! Off we went with dreams of Wolf and Viking, paired with the reality that those were beyond our budget comfort zone. We thought we would settle for a Kitchen Aid, and then we saw it. The Bertazzoni.

No bells and whistles. Beautiful timeless design. Really quite affordable compared to its Wolf and Viking companions. Built to last forever, to live in an old Italian country house, and to be passed down to future generations. We were sold on the pretty, functional, old world beauty.

I was giddy with excitement when the lovely Italian appeared in my kitchen last weekend, and it has been cooking romance ever since. It seemed only appropriate to break it in with a proper Italian Sunday dinner, and so with hopes to try out everything from the range top to the oven, the decision was made easy. Osso Buco with truffle honey polenta and steamed asparagus with Parmigiano Regiano.

I called upon a tried and true recipe from the NAIT Culinary Arts “Tour of the Mediterranean” class that Cream and I attended a couple of years ago, and it did not disappoint. This classic veal shank stew is tender and rich with red wine, tomatoes, fresh sage, garlic, and onion, and it falls apart the way only a dish that slow cooks can. If you are searching for elusive veal shanks in Edmonton, The Italian Centre Shop stocks them in their frozen section. And if you are looking for the perfect vessel, I always reach for the jewel of my kitchen, the Le Creuset French Oven. Worth every penny, it gets used more than any other pot or pan in my cucina. With a few recipe additions and modifications of my own, this Osso Buco was a perfect Sunday dinner paired with a crusty loaf from the Treestone Bakery and followed by Duchess Bake Shop treats.

Here it is modified to generously serve two, or double it to serve four.

Osso Buco

2 veal shanks
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp butter
1/4 cup flour
1 large onion, finely diced
1 large carrot, finely diced
1 celery stalk, finely diced
2 large garlic cloves, minced
1/2 bunch Italian parsley, minced
1 – 28 oz can of San Marzano tomatoes, hand crushed with juice
1 sprig of fresh sage
1 bay leaf
1/2 cup beef stock
1/2 cup good red wine (I like a nice Italian Primitivo)
Parmigiano Regiano rind (a nice addition if you have one)
kosher salt to taste
fresh ground pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Salt and pepper the veal shanks and dip them into the flour so that they are well coated. Shake off excess flour. In your large French/Dutch oven, or a large heavy bottomed cast iron pan or skillet, heat 1 tbsp each of butter and olive oil. Sear the shanks in the hot pan for 4 to 6 minutes until golden brown on both sides. Remove and set aside.

In the same pan heat the remaining butter and olive oil. When heated, add the onion, carrot, celery, garlic, and Italian parsley. Saute for 10 minutes until soft.

Next add the tomatoes, sage, bay leaf, beef stock, wine, Parmigiano rind, kosher salt, and fresh black pepper. Cook over medium heat for about 15 minutes.

If using a French/Dutch oven, nestle the veal shanks into the vegetable mixture and cover. Or if using a roasting pan, put a layer of the vegetable mixture on the bottom, add your veal shanks, cover with remaining vegetable mixture, and then cover with foil.

Bake in a 350 degree oven for 3 hours (or more for extra tenderness). Check the pan from time to time to ensure that it doesn’t dry out. Add a little more wine if required. Remove Parmigiano rind and bay leaf before serving.

I like to serve it over truffle honey polenta (see Cream’s last post on perfect polenta and mix in a dollop of honey and a tablespoon or more of truffle oil to taste before serving), and steamed asparagus with a drizzle of olive oil, fleur de sel, and a generous shaving of Parmigiano Regiano. And don’t forget to dip your crusty bread into the marrow.

Finito.

Flipping through the pages of a Christmas present reminded me of this.  The recipes in David Rocco’s Dolce Vita are all based on only a handful of ingredients.  The sweet life is such because it’s not fussy.  It’s bread dipped in olive oil, biscotti in vin santo.  That’s amore.

When tasked with a dip for New Year’s Eve, I looked to David for inspiration.  I tinkered a bit and was proud of the results.  Creamy, cheesy, SIMPLE.   Quite cozy on the snack table with the other treats and the midnight bubbly.

Happy New Year!

Ricotta Dip
1 454-g tub of ricotta cheese
Small log of goat cheese
3 cloves of garlic, minced (roasted is preferable)
Zest of one lemon
2 teaspoons of extra virgin olive oil
Salt and black pepper, to taste

Mix all ingredients well and smooth into serving dish or bowl.  [Can be chilled in advance at this stage.]
Before serving, drizzle with more olive oil and top with more s&p.

]]> http://creamandsugar.ca/ricotta-lemon-dip-david-rocco/feed/ 2 http://creamandsugar.ca/spaghetti-aglio-olio-daniel-costa/ http://creamandsugar.ca/spaghetti-aglio-olio-daniel-costa/#comments Sun, 13 Dec 2009 23:42:54 +0000 cream http://creamandsugar.ca/?p=831 On a day like today, where Vancouver has a dusting of snow and Edmonton is in the midst of a deep freeze… I am quite happy where I am, thank you very much.
But cool temperatures fill me with warm memories of people I love and miss.  And cool air still puts me in the mood for food that comforts.

“Plain spaghetti” as a child meant cooked noodles bathed in salted butter and dusted with Kraft parmesan from the green shaker.  As an adult, it means spaghetti aglio e olio — garlic and oil.  It’s not a difficult endeavour and besides knowing that chilies, pecorino and Italian parsley are involved, it’s quite literally what it proposes to be.

One of the great things about Edmontonians is that we tend to rally around hometown heroes and heroines when they do good so that they continue to do good.  Daniel Costa is a great local chef who made me crave Da Capo salads and pizza and has recently upped the ante with pub food at Red Star.  I used his recipe for this dish, and included a splash of white wine as he suggested.  Although I did not use anchovies.  Delicious and comforting all the same.

Stay warm, Edmonton.

Spaghetti Aglio e Olio
Serves 2.

0.5 lb spaghetti
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
0.5 tablespoon dried chili flakes
0.25 cup olive oil
0.5 cup chopped Italian parsley
Salt and pepper, to taste
Pecorino romano cheese, grated

While pasta is cooking in salted water, heat oil over medium heat.   Saute chili and garlic in oil until fragrant, a minute or two.  Don’t brown then.  Take off the heat if pasta is still cooking.  Toss cooked pasta in oil mixture over heat with 0.25-0.5 cup of pasta cooking water to make a bit of a sauce.  Take off the heat and add salt and pepper, parsley and cheese.

]]> http://creamandsugar.ca/spaghetti-aglio-olio-daniel-costa/feed/ 2 http://creamandsugar.ca/vancouver-la-quercia-kitsilano-pasta/ http://creamandsugar.ca/vancouver-la-quercia-kitsilano-pasta/#comments Sat, 28 Nov 2009 06:41:54 +0000 cream http://creamandsugar.ca/?p=793 Bigger cities mean more people.  Often, you’re also looking at more people in a small area; more bustle.  More bustle means more running into people, rubbing shoulders, more earshot.  I like that.   Especially at restaurants.  It reminds me of New York.   So, while here in Vancouver I’ve particularly enjoyed meals at small restaurants that are too tight and naturally, too loud.   Right or wrong, I attach the buzz of such places to the buzz of urbanity and want to return again and again.  That is why I bring up La Quercia (The Oak) again.
Small, tight, loud.
Excellent food—that happens to be Italian.

For my first visit, my party and I ate our way through 9, n-i-n-e, courses.  This time, I noticed you could do a 5- or 9-course family style set menu. Remembering my previous food baby… my dining date and I chose the 5-course menu.   As the kitchen takes your food allergies and aversions into consideration, what follows is the perfect fresh and seasonal menu created just for our table.  I noticed that the table over did 9 courses and had none of the same dishes as us.  Methinks that’s pretty cool.

Some days I dream about those perfect soft, but supportive pasta pillows.  Other days I want to savour little spoonfuls of that light-as-air soufflé.  All days usually require a moment where I want to twirl al dente spaghetti.

House-smoked trout

Parmigianno souffle

Fennel salad with walnuts and blue cheese

Spaghetti ai frutti di mare

Gnocchi with walnuts and gorgonzola

Ruby trout with chanterelle sauce

Saffron and quince tart, chocolate mousse, tiramisu

Dreams can become reality:  I already have another reservation.

La Quercia
3689 West 4th Avenue
Vancouver

This was the question always asked when I was told that there was indeed a kids’ menu at the restaurant we were at.

I distinctly remember one road trip to the Rocky Mountains where I ate spaghetti almost daily.  I did the same during another road trip down the Atlantic Coast.

I knew what I was getting and I knew that I liked it.

The tomato sauce, however, always had to come on the side.  The leap from spaghetti with butter to spaghetti with tomato sauce could not be completed overnight.  Spoonful by spoonful, I learned to love red on my noodles.  My preference for tomato-based pasta sauces has stuck ever since.

Giant balls of meat never really grabbed me.  Neither did a Bolognese.  Primaveras were popular as a teenager, but meh.  A little boring.

For a long while, I was a devout all’arrabiata girl, but as I’ve never been a fan of sausage, my constant modifications got old fast.

Here’s what I liked:  tomato, garlic, chilies.

Here’s what I saw on a menu once: tomato, chilies, onion, bacon.  Close enough.

My first taste of Amatriciana.

Hard to find thereafter, it was something that I greatly loved but rarely ate.  The menu I first saw it on removed it with the introduction of new owners.

A good friend and I often speak of when we see it, when we crave it, when we eat it.

I’m embarrassed to say that I’d never made it before this month.

It’s not very hard to find a recipe when you visit Google—especially now that pork fat is all the rage.  You find many recipe versions when searching.  Some use tomato sauce, some diced or crushed canned tomatoes, some diced fresh.  Some have garlic, others don’t.  Some have parsley, some don’t.  The most authentic ones require guanciale (pork jowls), pecorino cheese, tomatoes, onion, and the pasta shape called bucatini.  It’s almost like a long macaroni noodle.

I combined what I read and what I liked and bought what was easy.  I don’t want to go on a quest for ingredients when cooking just for me.  The Italian Centre  had all that I needed.  A version on Epicurious uses balsamic vinegar.  I thought that might be a little strong, but I needed to deglaze the pan before adding the tomatoes, as mine weren’t very juicy.  I grabbed the white balsamic from my cupboard and it did the trick.

What I love about this dish is that it represents the simplicity of Italian pasta recipes.  Just a few key ingredients in the right combination.  Smoky, salty, sweet, spicy. 

I warn you, though.  The thickness of the bucatini means twirling can prove difficult.  Saucy chins should be expected.

Bucatini all’Amatriciana

Makes two healthy servings.

1.5 tablespoons of olive oil

250 g bucatini

4 slices pancetta, chopped and divided

0.5 onion, thinly sliced

5 roma tomatoes, chopped, seeds removed, and mashed slightly

2 cloves of garlic, chopped

0.25 teaspoons of chili flakes

1 tablespoon of white balsamic vinegar

0.5 cup Italian parsley, chopped

Grated pecorino romano cheese, to taste

Heat 0.5 tablespoons of oil on medium heat in a skillet or sauté pan.  Cook half of pancetta until crispy.  Transfer to paper towel.

Heat remaining oil on medium-low heat.  Cook remaining pancetta and onions until onions are translucent.  About 5 minutes.  Add garlic and chili flakes and cook one more minute.  Deglaze pan with vinegar.  Add tomatoes and cook an additional 7–10 minutes until tomatoes soften and the sauce comes together.  The pancetta adds saltiness (as will the cheese later), but taste to see if more seasoning is needed.

Meanwhile, cook bucatini in salted water until al dente.

Transfer cooked pasta to sauce and cook shortly to coat pasta.  Take off the heat and toss with parsley and reserved pancetta.  Finish pasta with grated pecorino.

Mangia!

At her house we would watch Purple Rain for the hundredth time, watch her brother play with his Star Wars figurines, dress up our Cabbage Patch dolls, and stay up way too late until we were too giddy to sleep, and in the morning Lino, her lovely father, would make us breakfast. Now with a young palette that had not been readily exposed the sharp Italian cheese, zesty Italian sausage, and other such savory delights for breakfast, I was not so sure about the special breakfast he made for me the first time: frittata. Loaded with Italian sausage, asparagus, parmigiano, and fresh herbs, it was a tad sophisticated for my not yet sophisticated taste buds, but as a wee shy thing, I said it was delicious when asked. So every single time I stayed over after that, it was frittata just for me! I learned to love it, and of course now, I can’t get enough of its savory fillings and light fluffy goodness. I think of Lino every time I scavenge the refrigerator to  throw together the eggy delight.

Boxing day morning, with ham, green onion, fresh basil, parmigiano, aged cheddar and a touch of truffle oil, it was frittata time. The beauty of the dish is that it is well adapted to whatever you have in the refrigerator for a lovely morning treat. I often use Italian sausage, prosciutto, spinach, arugula, roasted pepper, and of course any cheese I can find. Today’s went something like this….

Pre-heat oven to 425 degrees. Heat a small non-stick pan (that can go straight into the oven) with a touch of olive oil on medium/high. Add a handful of diced ham, 2 finely sliced green onions, and saute. Add whisked egg mixture of 4 eggs, salt, freshly cracked pepper, torn basil leaves, drizzle of truffle oil, freshly grated parmigiano and aged cheddar to the pan, lifting the edges with a spatula to allow the uncooked eggs to flow to the bottom.  When the frittata is partly cooked (2 to 3 minutes), transfer the pan to the oven. Bake until puffed, golden, and set, 4 to 5 minutes. Remove and allow to cool slightly. This serves two perfectly with a little rye toast and some fresh pear on the side. Perfetto!