orecchiette with arugula-caper pesto, roasted tomatoes and pistachio breadcrumbs

there are times that i

think - even as i'm cooking,

even as i'm taking pictures -

that this is not a recipe worth

sharing with you. it's too

traditional, too thrown together

on a weeknight, too convoluted,

too unphotogenic, too...uninteresting.

but, i continue to cook the ingredients.

i continue to take pictures.

and usually, when it's all over and larry's

doing the dishes, i think yep, that was fine,

but, that was a dinner that was just for us:

no one will ever know about it.

but, other times, i take a bite,

still agreeing with my original

sentiment - that it's boring, simple,

fussy - but, also:

worth sharing.

and still, after all that, i almost

didn't write about this dish.

it's pasta with pesto, after all.

but, it was really good.

the arugula pesto, which should

have been bitter, was rounded out

with briny capers and roasted pistachios.

the kalamata olives added pockets of

saltiness and the roasted tomatoes

were bursting with garlicky sweetness.

they all came together thanks to the

toasted panko, pistachio and lemon zest

topping, which was sprinkled on

before serving.

and, i think, as i'm telling you about it,

that this pasta sounds both

expected and complicated.

but it's neither and it came together

quite quickly.

here's how:

i tossed some pistachios and panko

into the food processor, whirled them

around for a bit and then set them into

a pan over medium heat.

while one eye watched the

breadcrumbs, i pulsed the rest of the

nuts with garlic and cheese, pulsed in

arugula and capers and smoothed the

whole thing out with droplets of olive oil.

and, if we hadn't had a near oven fire - thanks

to a drippy packet of roasted garlic over the weekend -

here's what i would have done first:

i would have placed grape tomatoes in a dish,

with cloves of skin-on garlic,

olive oil, salt and pepper. i would have given

everything a good shake and then popped

them in the oven for about 4o minutes,

until their skins had burst,

the juice at the bottom was bubbly

and the garlic was tender.

but, we did have an incident that involved

a lot of smoke and so, instead, of starting with

that, i waited until larry came home from work

and very kindly gave the oven floor a scrub.

while they cooked, the breadcrumbs sat,

the flavors of the pesto melded together and

the pasta cooked. once they were out of the oven,

everything came together in less than five minutes.

so that was it.

kind of traditional.

kind of seemingly fussy.

kind of enjoyable.

hope you don't mind me sharing.

orecchiette with arugula-caper pesto, roasted tomatoes and pistachio breadcrumbs

there are a couple items of note in this recipe. first, the pistachios that i used were already roasted, so i was pretty careful when i toasted them with the breadcrumbs. however, if they had not been, i would have toasted the 1/3 cup i used for the pesto. secondly, i used the saltiness of the capers to mellow the bitterness of arugula (i didn't want a repeat version of this one). but, because i had a lot of arugula, i tossed some leaves into the pasta before mixing. this definitely ups the bitter quotient, so if that's not for you, don't feel that you need to add the extra arugula. and as with all pestos, feel free to mix and match the nuts or hard cheeses that you use.

2 cups grape tomatoes

5 large cloves garlic, (3 cloves unpeeled), divided

1/4 cup, plus 1/3 cup shelled pistachios, divided

1/4 cup panko breadcrumbs

1 lemon

olive oil (1 tablespoon, plus 1 teaspoon, plus about 1/3 cup for pesto)

1/3 cup grated pecorino romano

2 packed cups baby arugula, plus one or two extra handfuls, divided

3 tablespoons caper brine

3 tablespoons capers

1 box (16 ounces) orecchiette

1/2 cup chopped kalamata olives

heat oven to 375˚f. in small dish (i used an 8 x 8 ceramic dish), combine tomatoes, unpeeled garlic, 1 tablespoon of olive oil and salt and pepper, to taste. shake to coat tomatoes and garlic. bake 35-40 minutes, or until tomato skins have split and garlic is soft. when cool enough to handle, peel garlic (the cloves should slip out of their skin) and coarsely chop or mash; set aside.

in bowl of food processor, combine 1/4 cup pistachios and panko; pulse 10 times, or until pistachios are ground into tiny pebbles. in small skillet over medium heat, heat 1 teaspoon olive oil. add breadcrumb mixture and cook 3-4 minutes, or until golden and fragrant, stirring often. transfer mixture to a bowl; season with salt and pepper. using a grater, zest lemon over breadcrumbs; stir to combine and set aside.

wipe out bowl of food processor. in bowl, combine remaining peeled garlic, pecorino romano cheese and remaining pistachios; pulse 5 times or until coarsely combined. add 2 cups arugula arugula and capers; pulse again to combine. with motor running, very slowly drizzle in oil, until the mixture is a lighter shade of green, smooth and fluid (this usually takes about 1/3 cup, but could take up to 1/2 cup). set aside.

before tomatoes are finished roasting, bring a large pot of water to a boil; cook pasta according to the directions on the box, reserving 1 1/2 cups hot pasta water 2 minutes before draining pasta.

place the same pot you cooked the pasta in over medium heat; add about half the water and half the pesto. stir to combine. if the sauce seems overly watery, add a bit more pesto. if using, add the arugula leaves. add the pasta, the kalamata olives, the cooked tomatoes, the roasted garlic and any juices from the baking dish; toss gently to combine, adding additional pesto, if desired, and more of the pasta cooking water if the mixture seems too dry.

divide pasta among plates or bowls; sprinkle with breadcrumb mixture.

pasta with ricotta, peas and basil

we've always been committed

to home cooking,

but since we've moved,

i feel like we've strengthened our resolve.

we were always strict,

sunday to thursday,

but on friday and saturday it was

so easy, and so nice, to just go out,

get out, be somewhere else.

but, we knew that when we moved,

we'd give up a lot of that up,

using time at a restaurant as a

special treat, not a given.

so, we've been in the kitchen quite a bit.

but, instead of the very involved

dinners i used to take on without

a thought, now that we wake up very early

and both of our commutes are taxing,

i feel like we're not really cooking.

we're stirring some ingredients

together, turning on the oven and loving

the quick boil option on our range.

but, except for a handful of things -

larry's addictive guacamole,

a salad with scallops and watermelon,

boursin-stuffed turkey burgers we made

for father's day -

i can't really remember most of

what we've eaten. and that obviously means,

there's not so much to write about.

but this dish?

this is one i should have told you

about a year ago.

it's by no means a

company's coming meal.

but, it's fast, it can be made without an oven -

vital right now in this 100 degree heat - and uses

no more than a pot, a bowl and a spatula.

and, i think it tastes pretty darn good, too.

i usually save it for a day in which we

need dinner pretty quickly, or one in which

it's too hot outside to muster up much else.

but this time, the day started out as neither

and i wondered if i was wasting it on a

pleasantly warm easy-going day. but then,

fate stepped in and kept me at work

one hour later than expected for something

i never would have expected and once i

finally got out of there, i crawled in traffic

for almost two hours. suddenly, pasta

tossed with ricotta, peas, lemon and basil

seemed perfect.

i quickly said hello to larry

who was outside,

trimming a hedge.

after i put a pot of water over the flame

and then remembered that the precious

rapid boil also means that i have to

prep quite fast, i pulled out the ingredients.

ricotta,

a good hunk of parm,

a lemon,

basil,

salt,

pepper,

and this time,

a clove of purple garlic.

purple garlic.

i'm usually content with

run of the mill cloves, but

last week i saw purple garlic

at the market and snapped

it up the same way i had

pink lemons a year earlier.

but, like the pink lemons whose

flesh was like that of a pale grapefruit,

but boasted the flavor

of typical everyday lemon,

i felt duped. purple garlic

is sheathed in a purple skin,

but on the inside, it's just as

cream-colored as the next.

here's the one difference though -

purple garlic is significantly stronger

and sharper. i used only one clove,

albeit, one that was certainly larger

than usual, but still nothing crazy.

as soon as i tasted the creamy mixture

for seasoning, i knew we were in

trouble. it was garlicky.

really, really garlicky.

but, back to the pasta.

i usually turn to shells,

or something else that

acts like a vessel for

creamy dollops of the lemony ricotta

and the still firm peas.

once they're in the water - or maybe

a little before - i grate lemon zest and

parm into the cheese. i roll basil leaves

into a cigar and trim them thinly

into a chiffonade. i chop a clove of garlic.

i add them, along with kosher salt,

a healthy dose of black pepper and

a large squeeze of lemon juice,

to the bowl. i mix. and i taste.

then, i adjust. some days the

mixture is screaming for another hit

of lemon, other times it's lacking

black pepper or another pinch

of salt. sometimes (but, no,

not this time) it needs more garlic.

this night, the culprit was basil.

and i didn't have any left.

so, in went chives, which we took

from our pot of chives outside

on the deck. the tiny snips were

a new, but welcome, addition.

it was then that i looked at the clock

and saw that there were 4 minutes left

of boiling time. lucky. i poured peas

into the pot of pasta and let them

simmer away, bobbing in time

with the bubbles breaking on the

water's surface.

and soon,

the timer was beeping,

the pasta and peas were drained.

i poured them,

with a little water still clinging,

into the ricotta and mixed.

we haven't had this dish in over

a year and as soon as i tasted a

piece of pasta for final seasoning,

i was transported back to our apartment,

last may, when it was sweltering outside,

and inside as well. i remembered that last

year, even though the only heat came

from the steam of the boiling water,

when we ate, on the floor and at

our coffee table,

i was too hot to enjoy.

this time, i portioned two bowls,

sat down with larry

at the dining room table and was

thankful for no frills meals

on crazy days.

and, for my chive plant outside.

and, for the deck.

and, for the air conditioning.

pasta with ricotta, peas and basil

this is really good with homemade ricotta (you can find the recipe, here), and really it doesn't add that much more hands on time. but, if cheesemaking is not in the cards for your evening, i will not give you even a second of grief for buying a container. if there are fresh peas in the market, it's your lucky day. but, again, if it's not springtime and you buy frozen, as i did this time, no grief. just remember to mix, taste, adjust and taste again until it's perfect for you.

1 pound pasta (i like medium shells)

1 pound fresh or frozen peas

1 pound ricotta cheese (i usually use part-skim if i buy)

3/4 cup freshly grated parm

1 lemon, zested and halved (seeds removed)

1 large clove garlic, peeled and chopped

1/2 cup fresh basil

20 chives

in large pot of salted water, cook pasta according to package directions, adding frozen peas to the water when there is still 4 minutes left of cooking time. (i like mine still with a little pop, but if you prefer yours softer, adjust accordingly. also, if you are using fresh peas, 2-3 minutes should work.)

meanwhile, in bowl, combine ricotta, parm, lemon zest and chopped garlic. stack basil leaves, roll stack into a tight cigar shape and thinly slice with sharp knife (you may need to make two stacks); add to bowl. using scissors, snip chives directly into the bowl. remove seeds from lemon halves and squeeze in juice. season with salt and pepper. taste and adjust.

add hot pasta and peas to ricotta mixture and stir gently to combine. taste and quickly adjust seasoning, if necessary. divide among bowls and top with chopped chives, if desired.

finally - spaghetti and turkey meatballs

when i say to you

that i have been trying to

write this post for over two weeks,

i mean it. i've started it.

several times. only to be

cut off by small things - like

having to go to work,

go to bed, actually make dinner

for the night ahead, deal with

unexpected work crises and um,

one day, somehow cutting

off our internet connection.

so, i know it's been a while.

so long that i almost scrapped

the whole post

in a sign of moving on,

but, i couldn't do it.

we liked the meatballs too much.

--

usually when larry

goes away for work,

i try to get my act together

in time for his homecoming.

not this time.

he had been away for a

week and he was actually

coming home late on

a thursday evening - not

the middle of the night like

usual. i wanted to top

the sweet potato andouille pie

or the pulled chicken sandwiches.

instead, i found out that he

was coming home earlier

than expected, i had a very, very

long and busy day at work that ended with

10 children, pizza dough, flour, sauce

and eventually, baked pizzas for them

to eat. and, i lost my cell phone.

my only phone - especially if larry

and his cell are not in the house.

i got home from work just after

his plane landed, figured out how

to text him through gchat and

ran out to order and wait for

dinner. life without a phone

is tough. i was back home fast -

but he was already there.

and so, he welcomed me and

a bag of (good, but not homemade)

mexican food at the door.

not exactly the way i pictured it.

the next night,

i wanted to make it up to larry

(although, honestly, i think

his spicy pork tacos were fine

with him. i was the one

with the problem). i gave him

a few choices - he chose

spaghetti and turkey meatballs.

on the way to the store

i asked him to cook with me.

he agreed. he also tried to sneak

ground pork into the basket.

he did not succeed.

that night,

while i set to work

chopping and sauteing

onions and garlic,

larry squished peeled

san marzano tomatoes

from the biggest can

i had ever bought.

we added the tomatoes

to the aromatics, dropping in

a few bay leaves and while

i spent time regretting that

i didn't add wine to the pot,

the whole thing started

simmering.

i had made this recipe

once before, a few years back.

my memories of the experience

consisted of these four things:

i made them for larry after a very

long spell of all things vegetarian,

i was very hot in the kitchen that day,

it took a very long time

and the end result was worth it.

that's why i had asked for

larry's help.

this time around,

even though the company

was nice - very nice - the whole

process was much smoother and

i probably could have handled it

by myself. larry cracked eggs

into a bowl while i mixed together

milk and breadcrumbs. i incorporated them

all together with some grated romano cheese

while he stirred the sauce.

once the ground turkey was added

and the whole thing was rolled

into balls, i looked around the kitchen

and realized that everything was very calm.

i brought a pot of water to a boil

and pulled out my best kitchen friend,

the immersion blender. i've never really

smoothed out a sauce like this before -

i usually like them chunky and full,

but it was an experiment. i hadn't

followed the sauce recipe that accompanied

the meatballs, but it did call for pureeing

and i thought, maybe that's one step

i should follow. i blended everything

for a minute. just long enough to

make the mixture thick and cohesive,

but still maintain pieces of tomatoes and onions.

it was a lovely success - something i'm sure

every italian grandmother and grandchild

could have told me years ago.

when it was time to put it all together,

i was glad to have larry there to monitor

the pasta, so that i could tend to the

meatballs, which of course, by the time

i was done with them, looked nothing

like balls, more like unruly pentagons.

no matter. once they're sauced,

no one cares. or at least, no one

in this house cares.

it was a meal not so shocking,

nothing so groundbreaking

in turkey meatballs and sauce,

but for me,

topped with freshly grated cheese

and big glasses of red wine,

it was the welcome back meal

i was hoping for.

just a day late.

spaghetti and turkey meatballs

adapted from giada de laurentiis

the original recipe calls for dark ground turkey, but i used 93% lean, and was very happy with the results. we also had 1/4 pound more turkey, so i upped everything else, in addition to adding chopped garlic and oregano. these turkey meatballs are a great basic recipe - good to store somewhere in your head and adapt as inspiration strikes. i really wantd to bake them, but this meal was larry's and he offered up objections. next time, i'm trying them in the oven. oh, and if you're making your own sauce (so worth it), start the sauce and while it's cooking, make the meatballs. or, if you're really on top of things, make the sauce the day before.

5 tablespoons dried bread crumbs

2 1/2 tablespoons whole milk (we used 1% - it was fine)

2 large eggs, lightly beaten

3/4 cup, plus 2 tablespoons grated romano cheese

4 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

2 teaspoons dried oregano

salt and pepper

1 1/4 pound ground turkey

3 to 4 tablespoons olive oil

5-7 cups marinara sauce

1 pound spaghetti

in bowl, stir together bread crumbs and whole milk. stir in eggs, cheese, garlic and oregano. season mixture with salt and pepper. using your hands, gently mix in turkey, just until combined, being sure not to overmix. shape mixture into golf size balls.

bring large saucepot water to a boil; cook and drain spaghetti according to package directions. (ideally, the pasta will be ready just around when the sauced meatballs are done.)

meanwhile, in large skillet over medium high heat, add oil until shimmering, but not smoking. add meatballs. cook 2 minutes, or until golden brown and easy to lift from the skillet. turn meatballs and cook 2 minutes more. continue turning and browning until meatballs are browned on all sides.

add 5 cups sauce to meatballs; bring to a boil. reduce heat and simmer 5 minutes. using a slotted spoon, transfer meatballs to a bowl; tent to keep warm. over low heat, add cooked spaghetti to skillet and mix with sauce, adding extra sauce if desired. transfer spaghetti to a large serving bowl or individual bowls; top with meatballs and additional sauce, if desired. serve with grated romano cheese.

the marinara sauce

this sauce made a lot - more than needed for the meatballs. i emptied the leftovers into a resealable bag, flattened it out and froze the bag for a future dinner. if the past few weeks are any indication of the weeks ahead, i'm sure i'll be glad to have it stashed. there was not a ton of measuring involved with this, so here's a close approximation of how the sauce came to be:

olive oil

dried oregano

red pepper flakes

2 large white onions, peeled and chopped

5 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced

1 can (106 ounces) whole peeled san marzano tomatoes

2 bay leaves

granulated sugar

grated romano cheese

in large saucepot over high heat, heat a small splash of olive oil 30 seconds, or until hot and shimmering. add oregano and dried pepper flakes and stir 30 seconds. add chopped onions and cook 10-15 minutes, or until tender. add garlic. saute 1 minute more, or until tender.

meanwhile, remove tomatoes from can into large mixing bowl, squishing and breaking down as you go. when onions and garlic are ready, add everything from the bowl, plus a decent pour of the tomato puree that the tomatoes came in, to the saucepot. add bay leaves.

bring to a boil over high heat; reduce heat and simmer about 30 minutes, or until slightly thickened. remove and discard bay leaves. using immersion blender (or a regular blender in careful batches), puree sauce just until combined, but chunks still remain.

simmer 15 to 20 minutes more. if too acidic, sprinkle in a couple pinches of sugar. add a small palmful of grated parm; stir to combine.