humble foods for soothing a tired traveler

there has been homecoming, home leaving, home-getting-back-to and home-with-which-we-will-begin-to-visit-less-frequently. with the summer's whirlwind of social this-and-that, trips, house guests and the like our little pack over here hasn't had its usual high summer equation that combines panes of sunlight, shady patios, sighing aspen leaves, late breakfasts, quietude, painting and book reading to render that deeply nourishing summer sloth that we all look forward to and need.  it sometimes looks like this:

of course we've certainly had more than enough adventures and for that we are grateful and certainly more worldly and wise.

but sometimes we ache for simplicity, solitude and a lack of vagabondage.  and these kinds of times, when we awake late in the morning and spend time slowly pressing coffee and turning records on and off the turntable, the best kind of food is the very plain and the very soft.

these crispy little ingots were inspired by this (as i have previously said) but also from here where their funny little edges and accompanying explanation were the clincher in trying them out. (it's possible that i'm always a sucker for a bright and fierce young woman, living alone and trying to make her way through life through the filter of the kitchen. that seems an almost guaranteed methodology for revelation.)

 

the best part about these, for me at least, is the forgiving nature of this kind of potato cake. you start with a base of mashed potatoes, roll it about in egg and crumbs and fry it. very little can go wrong as the frying is not what cooks the potatoes (as this happy medium of just-right-temperature oil can sometimes evade a kitchen lady despite having her thermometer and somewhat sensitive stove dials). you can get fancy- or not. you could, say, fold in leftover bits of grilled salmon, preserved lemon and tarragon. or browned onions, flecks of cheddar cheese and a good coarse grinding of black pepper. you could more subtly spruce things up with a knifepoint of raw garlic and the finest veil of chopped herbs. ad nauseum. we went the route of digging up the strata of the vegetable bin to those growing things that were in direst need of metamorphosis. and it was a tasty, humble venture. especially with good, velvety scrambled eggs.

infinitely adaptable potato croquettes

(adapted from Nigel Slater's potato cakes with taleggio and chard (from Tender, Volume 1) and from Rachel Eats' potato croquettes)

1 pound potatoes

1/2 stick (4 T butter)

pinch salt

half bunch kale (stems removed)

1/3 - 1/2 cup taleggio, fontina or gouda finely diced

small milk bowl full of bread crumbs (to which you have added a grinding of pepper and a little salt)

small milk bowl into which you have broken 1 egg and whisked it slightly, maybe thinning it with water if it seems too thick)

oil for frying 

*bring a small pot of salted  water to boil

*while waiting scrub and quarter the potatoes

*when  boiling, plunge the kale into the water until bright green and tender, about five minutes. run under cool water to stop cooking, squeezing out water, chop finely and set aside

*boil the potatoes until quite tender

*pass them through a food mill or mash by hand with the butter and season with salt (pepper wouldn't hurt)

* into the potato mash stir the kale and the cheese. 

*form into little cakes using two large spoons, rest to cool on a parchment lined cookie sheet for about a half an hour (this is an important part, don't rush them!)

*bring a few inches of oil to temperature in a heavy bottomed stockpot or skillet. the optimal temperature for this is 350 but the general visual clue is a 'shimmer' on top of the oil. you can also put the tip of a wooden chopstick into the oil and if a myriad of bubbles form instantly around it that's the go-ahead.

*while the oil is heating dunk the cooled potato cakes into the egg and then into the seasoned bread crumbs

*fry the cakes until golden on each side, turning frequently. depending on the size of the cakes it should take about 3 - 5 minutes.

*drain briefly on kitchen paper or a paper bag

*eat at once!

*perhaps with an egg

spinach kale ribbons

Rosetta Constantino recently published My Calabria, a cookbook that sheds light on the cooking of her particular hometown region of Italy. Like Tuscany, Calabria champions fresh simple food whose emphasis lies on using the right ingredients at the right time for a cuisine that is both nourishing and delicious. Constantino's writing includes recipes and techniques, of course, but also philosophical musings on why these techniques have evolved. The resulting tones refer to the structure of family life, tending to vegetable patches, social mores and celebrations.

One ritual that is written with a particular reverence is that of making fresh pasta. Like bread, Calabrians make pasta regularly, deftly, and with great love. It is the simplicity of ingredients that moved me when I read over Constantino's mother's recipe for fresh pasta, an egg free alchemy of flour and water that produces delicious noodles.

Those above were made with a puree of kale and spinach and dressed simply with capers, lemon and hard cheese.

Calabrian fresh pasta
(adapted from My Calabria by Rosetta Constantino)

2 cups (280 grams) unbleached flour
1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon of warm water (plus more, if necessary)
pinch salt
sprinkle of olive oil (necessary in these high deserts, likely unnecessary at sea level, or in more moist places)

whisk flour and salt in a bowl, make a well in the center. pour the warm water into the well and stir using a wooden spoon or, better, your hands. incorporate the flour slowly. don't succumb to the temptation of adding more water as the dough gets stiffer and stiffer. unless you can't keep the dough together after 5 minutes of kneading rely on the original amount of water called for. however, for sheeting pasta (for cannelloni, lasagna, ravioli, tortellini, etc. more water will be necessary to roll the pasta out into an adequate thinness.)

let the dough rest for 15 minutes. this is vital as it allows the gluten in the dough to relax adequately. if you jump the gun and start rolling before the dough is adequately relaxed you will have sore arms and torn dough instead of luxuriously supple and elastic pasta dough.

divide the dough into fourths, roll, cut and shape the pasta as desired. if you don't have a pasta machine with a cutting attachment, dust the sheets of pasta dough with flour, roll loosely and cut the rolled dough perpendicularly, unroll and voila! ribbons.

lastly, as with all pasta but especially with fresh pasta, salt the cooking water liberally. at least 1/4 cup per big pasta pot. it may seem like a lot, but under salting the water with leave your pasta bland. the water should taste like sea water, is the general rule of thumb.

also: if you roll the fresh pasta and don't want to cook it right away or if you don't want to cook all of it, you can hang it to dry on hangers or over a door draped with a pillow case) and save it for later, as with dry pasta.