I was fourteen when I went to Italy.  At the time, I could appreciate little more than gelato, cobblestone streets and glimpses of David’s naughty bits.  My true romance with Italy did not fully hit until I started learning the language in university.  So since then, I have longed to go back.  As this longing has grown and my palate developed, I can now understand why I favour Italian cuisine so much:   simplicity.  And not in the sense that it’s not worth going out for because you can make the dishes at home.  Good Italian food is not based around tasteless tomatoes, wilted basil, and mushy pasta…  crimes often committed by both the professional and home cook.  Good Italian food is the best ingredients combined simply to taste amazing.

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.

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.

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

Is there spaghetti?

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!

For as long as I can remember, I have always planned my travel around the delectable indulgences that await…..even when travel means walking down the block.  As a young girl, my best friend lived up the street, and we would plan our slumber parties with promises of what our parents would cook for dinner. Her Italian parents would be required to make their delicious home made pizza for my visit, if I could swear she would have my Mom’s chili at the next all night giggle fest. It was an excellent elementary school epicurean exchange.

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!