Eat First

Zucchini: Pasta goes green

Zucchini is in abundance in gardens and at farmers markets right now. Ask your gardening neighbors for one or two, and they'll gladly hand over an armful of them. Yet rarely does zucchini get the starring role in recipes and on our plates.

We steam, saute and grill it to serve as a side dish, slice it into ribbons for salads, grate it for use in quick breads and stuff it with rice, tomatoes and cheese to make zucchini “boats.”

This simple pasta preparation, a variation of a recipe from Mark Bittman (The Minimalist), is easy, wholesome and comforting, with a pleasant crunch from zucchini that’s not overcooked.

We shared some with my mother the other night, and she called to say a) how nice it was to not have to cook and b) what a nice change this pasta is from pasta bathed in red sauce.

Right she is.

Pasta With Zucchini, Ricotta and Basil

1 medium onion, diced

¼ cup plus 1-2 teaspoons olive oil

3 small-to-medium zucchini, diced

1 large clove of garlic, minced

1 cup fresh basil, cut in ribbons

1 pound whole wheat or multi-grain pasta

1 cup ricotta cheese

½ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil on the stove for cooking the pasta.

Meanwhile, cook onion in 1-2 teaspoons olive oil until translucent.  Reserve for later use.

In a large pan, heat ¼ cup olive oil over medium-high heat. Add diced zucchini and cook until zucchini begins to brown. Reduce heat and continue cooking zucchini for about 15 minutes. The heat should not be too high; the zucchini should be crisp-tender, not mushy.  During the last few minutes of cooking, add the garlic to the pan; stir well to combine.

Time pasta cooking to coincide with last 10 minutes of zucchini cooking. At the same time, heat a large bowl. To the heated bowl add the ricotta and about half of the basil. As the pasta nears the end of its cooking, reserve about a half-cup of pasta water and use it to thin the ricotta to sauce consistency, stirring well.

Add both cooked zucchini and pasta to the bowl holding the ricotta. Toss well. Add remaining basil and grated Parmesan cheese. Toss again.

Serve pasta in warm bowls. Makes about 6 servings.

 
 
 

A fresh take on tomato sauce

“What are you making, hon?,” my other half asked, passing through the kitchen on his way to the basement. “Salsa?”

His question was understandable.

In a bowl sat a small pile of diced, peak-of-summer tomatoes, wearing nothing but a pinch of salt and sugar to pull out their juices.

In another half hour, the tomatoes would be tossed with olive oil, minced shallots, a bit of red onion, a handful of chopped kalamata olives, capers, garlic, a few snips of fresh basil and Italian parsley for a fresh take on tomato sauce.

There is nothing like a long-cooked red sauce, reduced for days to render it thick, hearty and smooth, with the depth of flavor that slow, back-burner cooking yields.

But fresh sauce is a nice change of pace, especially when the heat is on. Throw together a batch using what you have at hand and heat the pasta water outside on the grill.

Your kitchen will stay cool and so will you.

Fresh Tomato Sauce for Two

2 medium-large tomatoes, cored and diced

Salt

Sugar

Olive oil

2 tablespoons minced shallots, or to taste

2 tablespoons minced red onion, or to taste

2 plump cloves of garlic, minced

Handful of kalamata olives, chopped

1-2 tablespoons capers, chopped

About 20 leaves fresh basil, snipped

A few sprigs fresh Italian parsley, snipped

Grated cheese for garnish, optional

6 ounces pasta, cooked according to package directions

Place diced tomatoes in a bowl and add a pinch each of salt and sugar to extract their juices. Cover with plastic wrap and leave at room temperature for a half hour or more.

Drizzle tomatoes with olive oil. Add shallots, red onion, garlic, olives, capers, basil and parsley. Toss gently. Add a lit more oil. The sauce shouldn’t be very oily, just oily enough to cling to the pasta a bit.

Serve on hot pasta, toss gently and garnish with cheese if you like. Serve with a green salad tossed with something other than tomatoes.

Eat…and enjoy!

 

From the recipe file of: Mom

Like Mom used to make: Sour Cream Coffee Cake

Mom has a double-wide, roll-top recipe file parked on her kitchen counter. It has been there for years, perfectly organized by category: cake, cookies, candy, pies, puddings, etc.

Remember that blueberry or cherry dessert, sort of like a crisp (but made with canned pie filling) you loved as a kid? It’s in there, under cakes: Blueberry Cake Mix Dessert.

Remember the crumble-topped coffee cake you devoured on so many Sundays, after church? It’s in there, in Anne’s handwriting: Sour Cream Coffee Cake.

Mom’s recipe file is a treasure trove. I could spend an entire day looking through it – which, come to think of it, would be an excellent rainy day activity.

Here are a couple recipes.

Sour Cream Coffee Cake

1 cup sugar

½ cup butter

2 eggs

1 cup sour cream

2 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Topping:

½ cup chopped walnuts

¼ cup sugar

1 tablespoon cinnamon

Cream butter with sugar. Add eggs and sour cream. Mix well. Add sifted dry ingredients, then vanilla extract. Spoon half of batter (batter will be thick) into a greased and floured tube pan, spreading with knife or spatula. Top with HALF of topping. Add remaining batter, then remaining topping. Cut through batter and topping several times, as you would for marble cake.

Bake at 350 degrees for 45 minutes. Cool 20 minutes before removing from pan. Cool completely on rack. Makes 10 to 12 servings.

 Blueberry Cake Mix Dessert

1 can blueberry pie filling (or any flavor pie filling)

1 box yellow cake mix (any brand; or any flavor)

1/3 cup butter, melted

Whipped cream or whipped topping (optional)

Pour pie filling into a greased cake dish or pan. Cover pie filling with cake mix. Pour melted butter over cake mix. Bake at 350 degrees for about 1 hour. Serve warm with whipped cream or whipped topping.

The Recipe File Project: thinking INSIDE the box

I'm a fairly organized person. I make notes on the calendar, ride herd on the pile-up of newspapers, magazines and mail and strive mightily to keep our house in order. How my recipe file -- an old, wooden cigar box handed down by a former roommate -- was such a complete, overflowing, unorganized catch-all for so long I don't know.

But it was. Stuffed, literally, with hundreds of recipes, it had no dividers or categorization, making finding anything a chore, guessing game and time drain.

Earlier this year, I emptied out its contents and started going through the pile one recipe at a time. I tossed recipes I had never used or hadn't used in years. Weeding through the thicket, I taped newspaper and magazine clippings to plain 4-by-6-inch cards and started organizing: meat, meatless, soups and stews, pasta, poultry, cakes, cookies, breads, muffins, etc.

The only absolute keepers: anything in Mom's and Mother's (grandmother Heenan's) handwriting; anything from my sisters; anything in the perfect penmanship of former Post-Standard restaurant reviewer and food writer Yolanda Wright; and anything clipped from the original Dinosaur Bar-B-Que "Bullsheet,'' a newsletter originally sent out monthly, by snail mail.

In the process of cleaning out, I found so many wonderful recipes I had forgotten about. Mom's Lemon Bread. Mom's Apple Crisp. Aunt Dorothy's Popovers. Martha's Guinness Stew. Mary's Cheese Souffle. Anne's Pie Crust. Eileen's Layered Taco Dip.

Maureen Nolan's Pub Cheese and Sausalito Crab Dip. A quartet of Italian sauce recipes from Nancy Radke (Italy lover, president of Ciao, Ltd. and co-author of "Dinosaur Bar-B-Que: An American Roadhouse"). Yolanda's Hot Fudge Sauce (a holiday tradition) and dozens of  other recipes clipped from the "Yolanda's Kitchen'' feature (RIP) in The Post-Standard. Countless recipes from "Cook(s) of the Week," another bygone newspaper feature, some with my byline on top.  

I went to Smith Housewares & Restaurant Supply and after much internal debate purchased a RSVP Endurance Classic Style Recipe Box ($35), some divider cards and clear plastic protector sleeves for faded, oft-used and food-splattered recipes.

The new box, constructed from stainless steel, has a satin finish and a polished lid with a swirl pattern inside. In addition to being stylish, it is solid and durable. It closes tightly, like a vault. A Recipe Vault! I told Robert it can be used to hold my remains when it's done holding heirloom recipes.

The end result is a recipe file that's neat and tidy, easy to use and a pleasure to open each time. And with holiday baking and cooking in full swing, it has been open and closed a lot lately.

I'd love to tell you that the Recipe File Project has helped me change my ways with hunting and gathering recipes. It hasn't. That's a disease with no cure on the horizon.

Next up: Cleaning out, trimming down and organizing into an expandable, divided file the three-inch thick folder of print-out recipes from favorite websites (like SmittenKitchen.com and Epicurious.com) and pages torn from Cook's Illustrated, Gourmet, Martha Stewart and other magazines.

That should keep me busy until spring, when it's time to start trolling for new recipes for the grill.