Old dogs, new tricks: pasta

I've been making pasta for over forty years (a frightening thought in and of itself), and I didn't think there was much I could do differently. My recipe for pasta is a typical Italian non-recipe, and while most of the time the finished product is good, there have been some catastrophic failures--pasta that wouldn't cut properly, pasta that congealed in the boiling water into a huge mass, pasta that turned into mush because I got called away at a critical moment. The resulting tears are never pretty.

Cooks should never rest on their laurels, and there is always something to learn. A fall issue of La Cucina Italiana featured pasta in many forms, and each shape had its own recipe for the dough. The big difference between their dough and mine is the flour. Each recipe used some measure of "tipo 00" flour, a very soft flour not available in most grocery stores. My family has always used all-purpose white flour, nothing fancier than that. When my great-grandmother was alive, that was the only flour available, and if it was good enough for her, it was good enough for me. But I was intrigued by the "tipi 00" flour, so the last time I visited Croce's in Cherry Hill, I picked up a bag of this super soft flour. The owner gave me a nod that showed a new respect for me and my cooking prowess.

This afternoon, I didn't know what to make for dinner, and after doing an inventory of the refrigerator, I found that I had enough left-over roast beef to make gravy, and roast beef gravy deserves homemade pasta. I chopped onions, sweated them with good olive oil and a few flakes of hot pepper, then incorporated several minced cloves of garlic and some leftover roasted peppers. After a few minutes to cut the bitterness of raw garlic, I added a half cup of decent chianti, let it boil off, and then tossed in a can of San Marino tomatoes, crushed them with a potato masher before adding the leftover beef. I left that to simmer on the back of the stove.

Now was the test. I put a cup of all-purpose flour and a cup of the tipo 00 flour in the bowl of the food processor along with a generous pinch of salt. After a few pulses to combine the flours, I added three large eggs, one at a time, letting the food processor run after each addition. One it started to form a ball, I stopped the food processor and pulled the dough away from the blade, forgetting how sharp the blade is. After running for Neosporin and a bandaid and administering first aid, I kneaded the dough briefly and put it into a zip-lock bag. After a half hour, I started to roll out the dough.

While I don't have a guitarra, I do have a hand-crank pasta machine that gets its fair share of use. They last forever, unless you happen to have a husband of German descent who couldn't believe that one would not take APART the pasta machine to clean it, but that's another story. The usual procedure is to  roll the pasta into a thick coil, and cut it into the same number of pieces as the number of eggs used, plus one. In this case, I cut it into four pieces and covered them with a vintage cotton tablecloth that serves to help clean up the flour and to cover the dough while it rests.

The next step is to roll the pasta through the rollers at the widest setting several times, folding it in three like a business letter between each pass, and sending it through with the open end first  (that's a trick I learned a long time ago--it makes for silkier pasta). Once I'm satisfied that the dough is really ready, then I dial the rollers one step closer together and run each piece through the machine. My machine goes from 1 (widest) to 7 (closest). Usually, I take the pasta through the rollers all the way to step 6, and the dough is paper thin. However, when I do this, the pasta doesn't always cut when I go to the next step, but that's the way we always did it.

Again, according to La Cucina Italiana, neither angel hair (my favorite) nor linguine (the other size on my pasta machine), should use dough that thin. I gritted my teeth (after all, change is difficult), and stopped myself at step 5. In a leap of faith, I started to put the first pasta sheet through the narrower cutting side and started to crank.

It was amazing. The dough separated into perfect strands, and it was the fastest I've ever been able to cut pasta. I repeated this step with the other sheets of pasta, and as soon as the water (salted generously) came to a rolling boil, I carefully transferred the pasta to the pot. If you are used to making dried pasta, you will be astounded at how quickly fresh pasta cooks. Let it come to a full rolling boil and IMMEDIATELY (I can't stress this enough), dump the pasta into a large colander to drain. It shouldn't take more than a minute. Seriously. Trust me on this one!

Sauce the pasta and put it on the table quickly. Fresh pasta is ephemeral!

When I served the pasta with the melt-in-your-mouth beef, my husband of German heritage noticed that the pasta looked different, almost extruded, and I agreed, but when we twirled our first forkfuls and put them in our mouths, we were pleasantly surprised at the taste and texture.

Take home lessons: 1) Substitute 1/2 tipo 00 flour for the all purpose stuff. 2) Don't make the dough paper thin.

See, even an old dog like me can learn a new trick or two!

The Italian Flag: Pasta with Fresh Tomatoes and Broccoli

There's nothing like vine-ripened tomatoes. You don't have to do anything to them, and they are delicious. When the farmers at the Growers Market bring their first tomatoes to town, I throw caution to the wind and indulge in a classic BLT on white toast slathered with mayonnaise. When I want to gild the lily, I make a Salad Caprese. Just cut the tomatoes into thick slices, layer them with fresh mozzarella, garnish with basil, and drizzle with extra-virgin olive oil. I'm partial to A Taste of Olive's Peloponnesian.

After the first flush of tomatoes, I start looking for more creative ways to use the bounty. Tonight I made the ultimate lazy summer dinner, rotini pasta with tomatoes and broccoli. It's easy to make, it's nutritious, and it's quick to clean up.

When I'm making a quick dinner, I try to get all my ingredients ready in advance. That way, I don't have to stop and start--once I put the pasta into the pot, there isn't much time for dawdling!

Here's the prep:

Start by putting a big pot of water on to boil. As you wait, chop a couple of cloves of garlic and put them in a medium bowl. Add 2-3 tablespoons of extra-virgin olive oil (that Peloponnesian works well here, too). If you like a little heat, add red pepper flakes to taste. Sprinkle with sea salt, if desired. Cut a large head of broccoli into bite-sized pieces and reserve. Stack about 12 leaves of basil, thinly slice, and reserve. Cut 8-10 small (2 inch) balls of fresh mozzarella into quarters and reserve.

Now let's cook:

Core two large washed tomatoes and cut an X at the other end. When the water comes to a full boil, drop the tomatoes into the pot and remove them after a minute. Put them into a bowl of ice water. Peel the tomatoes and chop them into 1/2 inch dice. Add the tomatoes to the olive oil and garlic. Add salt to taste to the water, and 1/2 pound of rotini noodles to the boiling water. Follow package direction for al dente pasta (I used Barilla, which cooks up in 7 minutes). When there is 3 minutes left to the cooking time, add the reserved chopped broccoli.

Drain the pasta and broccoli when it is just al dente, but reserve 1/2 cup of the pasta water. You might not need it, but if the pasta is a little dry, it's essential! Return the drained pasta and broccoli to the pot and add the tomato-garlic oil. Toss over low heat for about one minute to warm the tomatoes. If the dish is dry, add a little of the reserved pasta water. Remove from heat, add about 1/2 of the reserved basil. Toss. Put the pasta into individual serving dishes (2 main course servings, 4 appetizer servings). Top with the reserved mozzarella and garnish with the remaining basil. If you like, shave some pecorino romano cheese over the top. Serve with a green salad and good Italian bread.

This dish is open to many variations. Instead of mozzarella cheese, substitute diced pepperoni or ham. Instead of basil, use flat-leaved parsley. Instead of broccoli, try fresh peas or green beans (the peas cook in less time, while the green beans need to go into the pot along with the rotini). You can add a handful of pitted Italian olives or a sprinkling of toasted pignoli to the cooked pasta. If you have a hankering for this summer dish in February, use good-quality diced tomatoes in a can. It isn't quite the same, but it's still a quick, nutritious, easy dinner.

Mangia!