Pasta alla Napoletana

I

n the interest of full disclosure, I feel compelled to say, I've never been to Naples. I've been close, but somehow, never made it those few last miles to the city limits. Nevertheless, when I ordered Pasta alla Napoletana at a trattoria in Salerno, for example, I felt enough kinship with the Napoletani, that I felt I would be getting the real McCoy.

I learned about Pasta alla Napoletana, pasta with sausage and peppers in tomato sauce, from two wonderful folks who probably showed up on Public Television just a year or two before their time: Franco and Margaret Romagnoli. Their TV show, "The Romagnoli's Table," gave me my first insight into Italian regional cuisines, and provided the notion that I could indeed produce great Italian meals with my hand-me-down Revereware pots; given the right ingredients. Over time, Pasta alla Napoletana has been among those dishes.

Note: I had an epiphany yesterday when I cooked the peppers for this dish. I've written and published recipes for roasted peppers in which I've described roasting them under a broiler, but in fact, I probably haven't cooked them that way for fifteen years. Well, due to circumstances like needing propane, and having a ceramic cooktop, I could neither grill them, nor char them over a gas flame on the stove as I have in the past. So I did indeed cook them under the broiler. They were fabulous.

I want to write more about this, but for now, I'm going to hold it in abeyance for another blog post. For this recipe though, I'll include instructions for roasting peppers under the broiler.

Pasta alla Napoletana
Pasta with Sausage and Peppers in Tomato Sauce

Ingredients:

3 Large bell peppers
4 Cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
2 - 3 Tbs. Extra-virgin olive oil
1 28 oz. Can Italian plum tomatoes (Preferably San Marzano)
2 Tbs. Fresh oregano, finely chopped
4 Tbs. Fresh basil, finely chopped
1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
Approximately 1 1/2 Lb. Italian sausages, cut into bite-sized pieces
Salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 Lb. Rigatoni
4 Tbs. Flat-leaf Italian parsley, finely chopped
Parmesan

Preparation:

Set one of your oven racks high enough to allow the peppers to roast approximately six inches away from the heat.

Preheat the broiler.

Place the peppers on a sheetpan, and put the sheetpan in the oven. Watch very closely—checking, literally once every minute or so—as the peppers' skin begins to blacken. Turn the peppers to expose the uncooked portions to the heat as their skins become charred.

As the peppers become blackened all around (this may not happen to all of them at the same time), remove them from the oven and seal them in a paper bag. Use only paper, as the paper will absorb moisture exuded by the peppers as they cool. Plastic or aluminum foil will hold moisture, and cause the peppers to become soggy.

Leave the peppers sealed in the bag for approximately fifteen minutes, then remove them and peel the charred skins. You can remove any uncooked portions of skin with a vegetable peeler. Remove the cores and seeds, cut the peppers into rough squares, and reserve.

Note: You can do this step well in advance, and simply have the peppers available at cooking time.

Heat a four quart saucepan over medium heat, then add the olive oil. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, for approximately one minute.

Remove the pan from the heat and add the tomatoes, breaking them up with the back of a fork as they go in. Add the oregano, basil, and pepper flakes and bring the sauce to a simmer.

Add the sausages and peppers, season with salt and pepper, and regulate the heat so the sauce barely simmers. Cook for approximately one half hour.

Approximately 15 minutes before serving, bring a large pot of water (at least six quarts) to a full, rolling boil and add the pasta. Cook until just al dente. Drain in a colander, and pour the pasta out onto a serving platter.

Spoon the sausages and peppers over the pasta, then pour the remaining sauce over all. Garnish with the parsley, and serve family-style at the table. Pass the Parmesan separately.

Serves four.

Technorati tags: Pasta, Italian Food, Skip Lombardi

Bistecca alla Pizzaiola

O

ne of the very few problems I've had living here in southeastern Connecticut has been an unpredictable supply of fresh herbs at the local mega-stores. And while my own basil, thyme, sage, rosemary, and nepitella, are growing apace in my new garden, I was grateful when one of my new friends stopped by over the weekend with a large plastic bagfull of fresh oregano. It goes without saying, I began to think about Salsa Pizzaiola, Pizza maker's tomato sauce, right away. Fresh oregano is sine qua non for Salsa Pizzaiola. And other than pizza, what better use for Salsa Pizzaiola than Bistecca alla Pizzaiola, Steak, Pizza Maker's-Style?

I wrote in La Cucina dei Poveri about my great uncle Emanuel visiting our summer cottage in Old Saybrook, CT., invariably bringing with him, a few steaks that he, my grandfather, and my great uncle Louie would turn into il miracolo, the miracle, as my uncle referred to Bistecca alla Pizzaiola. And my partiality for steak treated so kindly has remained unflagging since.

While a Pizzaiuolo Napoletano, Neopolitan Pizza Maker, was likely to have been the first person to have combined steak with tomato sauce, the reason is unclear. Except perhaps, that the steak in question might have been less palatable without additional flavoring. And of course, that flavoring would have come from the sauce for pizzas.

The "red sauce joints" here in America typically serve Bistecca alla Pizzaiola with pasta, but in Italy, the traditional accompaniment is puré di patate, mashed potatoes.

Note: You can make the sauce in advance, and refrigerate until ready to assemble the dish. Simply warm the sauce in a sauté pan, and simmer the cooked steak in the sauce for approximately five minutes before serving.

Bistecca alla Pizzaiola
Steak, Pizza Maker's-Style

Ingredients:

For the sauce:

3 — 4 Tbs. Extra-virgin olive oil
2 Cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
1 28 oz. Can diced Italian plum tomatoes (preferably San Marzano)
4 Tbs. Fresh oregano, finely chopped
4 Tbs. Flat-leaf Italian parsley, finely chopped
1/2 tsp. Crushed red pepper flakes
Salt & freshly ground black pepper
4 Tbs. Flat-leaf Italian parsley, finely chopped

For the steaks:

Extra-virgin olive oil
2 N.Y. Strip steaks (approximately 1/2 Lb. each)
Salt & freshly ground black pepper
1/2 Cup dry red wine

Preparation:

Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat, then add the oil. Add the garlic, and sauté for approximately one minute. Remove the pan from the heat and add the tomatoes and their juices.

Return the pan to the heat, and add the oregano, parsley, and red pepper flakes. Season with salt and pepper, reduce the heat, and simmer gently for approximately twenty minutes, until the sauce has thickened, and the extraneous liquids have cooked off.

When the sauce is nearly done, heat another sauté pan over high heat and add enough olive oil to cover the pan bottom. While the oil heats, season the steaks on both sides with salt and pepper.

Place the steaks in the pan, and cook for four minutes on each side (for medium-rare). Resist the temptation to disturb the steaks as they cook in order to get the best caramelization. Remove the steaks from the pan, cover loosely with aluminum foil, and allow the steaks to "rest" for five to ten minutes.

Meanwhile, return the pan to the heat, and add the red wine. Cook, scraping up any browned bits of meat from the pan bottom, until the liquid has reduced by approximately half. Add the reduced wine to the sauce, and stir to combine.

Slice the steaks crosswise, on a slight bias, and add the slices to the sauce. Simmer for approximately five minutes.

To Serve:

Divide the steak slices and sauce equally among four dinner plates, and garnish with the chopped parsley. Serve with mashed potatoes, and perhaps a green salad.

Serves four.

Technorati tags:  Bistecca alla Pizzaiola, Italian recipes, Skip Lombardi

Peposa alla Fornicina

M

y dearest friend here in southeastern Connecticut is a fellow who compares favorably to my perception of Calvin Trillin's "man with the naugahyde palate." That is to say, for example, given a choice between quality and quantity in culinary matters, quantity prevails every time. In his defense, though, I've never actually seen him pull his chair up to the buffet table in an all-you-can-eat restaurant. But I have seen a couple of hosts develop a slight pallor as they've escorted him to his table.

And while he seems to have reduced eating to its barest essentials, he has a small quirk that suggests a degree of discernment, indicating perhaps there was a time when he could identify a dish with flavor: he applies freshly-ground black pepper to every meal before he tastes it. I suspect it's a habit he developed over the course of four years spent eating tasteless food three times per day at a New England prep school.

I thought of my friend right away when I came across an old Tuscan recipe, Peposo alla Fornicina, Beef Stew in the style of the Kiln Worker. Peposo's key ingredient is black pepper.

The history of Peposo begins in approximately 1437, when Filipo Brunelleschi was supervising construction of the dome on La Chiesa Santa Maria del Fiore, the Duomo in Florence. At the start of the business day, one of the kiln workers would toss the ingredients for Peposo into a clay pot and put it into the kiln in which the terra cotta tiles for the dome were fired, where it would cook for several hours. At lunchtime, runners would shuttle bowls of the stew up to the tile workers on the dome

The tile workers seemed to like the stew well enough, but the notion of spending their lunch hour on the dome—depriving them of the chance to play a few friendly hands of Scopa——didn't go over well at all, causing a small rebellion among them that may have amounted to the first labor strike in Italy.

History becomes weak about the origin of the dish, though. Credit seems to go, —in equal measure, —to nearly any town near Florence that had even a small tile making facility. Among those laying claim to Peposo, are Pistoia, Impruneta, and even La Spezia, in the province of Liguria. It goes without saying that all the towns making such a claim include the detail that dottore Brunelleschi visited each of them to select his tiles one at a time.

Beyond the pepper that characterizes Peposo, the stew is no more than a combination of meat, garlic, and red wine, cooked at low heat for several hours, with a wonderful outcome. Over time, cooks embellished the dish with tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, or all three ingredients. Brunelleschi's stew did not likely include tomatoes, though, as they didn't appear in Italy until the mid sixteenth century at the earliest.

By tradition, Tuscans serve Peposo over crostini, toasted bread. When I cooked it on Sunday evening, I served it over polenta. I imagine it would be delicious with roasted potatoes as well.

As we sat down to dinner, I offered my friend the pepper mill. Having heard the history of the dish, though, he replied, "I'll wait until I've tasted it. Thanks."

Peposo alla Fornicina
Beef Stew, Kiln Worker's-Style

Ingredients:

2 Lb. Beef stew meat, cut into bite-sized chunks
10 Cloves garlic, peeled, but left whole
1 - 2 Tbs. Crushed black peppercorns
3 - 4 Cups dry red wine
Salt
4 1 in. Slices rustic bread
1 Clove garlic, peeled and halved

Preparation:

Pre-heat the oven to 250 F.

Place the meat and garlic in an ovenproof casserole. Sprinkle the crushed peppercorns over all. Add enough red wine to cover the meat by approximately one inch.

Bring the casserole to a simmer on the stove, then cover, and place the casserole in the center of the pre-heated oven. Cook, adjusting the heat so the stew barely bubbles, for approximately six hours. If the liquid reduces too much while the stew cooks, add hot water to compensate.

At the end of cooking, the sauce should be thick enough to coat a spoon, and the meat should be falling apart. Taste, and season the stew with salt as necessary.

At serving time, toast the bread slices, and rub them with the garlic halves.

To Serve:

Place one slice of the toasted bread in each of four soup bowls, then divide the stew equally among them.

Serves four.

Technorati tags: Peposo, Italian Recipes, Skip Lombardi

Spuntature e Faggiole

W

hen I see the delivery truck from Westerly Meat Packing Co. in the parking lot at Universal Food Store of Noank, I consider it to be a good sign. When I walk into the store to find my friend Frankie, laying in a supply of "country-style" spare ribs, I consider it to be serendipity. And when I've laid in my own supply of "country-style" spare ribs, my thoughts turn to Tuscany, and Spuntature e Fagioli, spare ribs and beans.

Tuscans work miracles with beans. The humble cannellini, white bean, or borlotti, cranberry bean, become enobled in dishes like Zuppa di Fagioli, Tuscan Bean Soup; the legendary Ribollita, "Re-boiled" soup; or as antipasti like, Gamberi e Fagioli, Shrimp with Beans, or Fagioli con Calamare alla Griglia, Grilled Squid with Beans. Of course, a little transcendent extra-virgin olive oil dosen't hurt any of these dishes either.

Italians use the term spuntature to refer to either "country-style" spare ribs, or pork chops. (Although the more generic term for chops of any kind is costolette.) And the pork ribs they commonly use, come from the belly side of the pig. While we don't typically butcher pigs the same way here, "country-style" ribs—which come from a pig's back, and near the shoulder—come closest. I feel confident, though, if a Tuscan farmer had some pork shoulder sitting in the larder, La Signora would have no problem substituting that for the ribs.

Sausages also find their way into spuntature e fagioli from time to time; again, depending on the season and the contents of the larder. And it goes without saying, sausages and beans are a magical combination on their own.

I understand we think of dried beans as a fall or winter ingredient, but spare ribs and beans warms this Tuscan heart any season of the year.

Spuntature e Fagioli
Spare Ribs and Beans

Ingredients:

For the Spare Ribs:

Extra-Virgin olive oil
2 Lbs "Country-style" pork spare ribs
2 Cloves garlic, peeled, and finely chopped
1 Cup dry red wine
2 Tbs. Tomato paste dissolved in 2 Tbs. water (or red wine)
1 28 oz. Can, Italian plum tomatoes (preferably San Marzano)
Salt & freshly-ground black pepper

For the Beans:

1 Medium yellow onion, quartered
1 Carrot, peeled, and roughly chopped
1 Stalk celery, washed, and roughly chopped
4 Tbs. Flat-leaf Italian parsley
2 Cloves garlic, peeled
4 Tbs. Olive oil
1 Lb. Dried cannellini, great northern or Navy Beans
1 Sprig fresh rosemary, leaves only
4 Fresh sage leaves, finely chopped
Salt & freshly-ground black pepper
Flat-leaf Italian parsley (for garnish)

Preparation:

Heat a sauté pan large enough to hold the spare ribs over medium-high heat, then add enough olive oil to film the bottom. Carefully add the ribs, and cook until they've browned well on both sides; approximately seven minutes per side.

Drain the rendered fat from the sauté pan, then add the garlic, shaking the pan constantly, to avoid burning. Turn the heat to high, then add the wine. When the alcohol has boiled off, about two minutes, add the tomato paste and the plum tomatoes, breaking them up with the back of a fork as they go in.

Bring the pan to a boil, then reduce the heat to a slow simmer and cook for two hours, stirring occasionally. It may be necessary to add water from time to time to maintain a reasonable consistency.

While the spare ribs are simmering, turn your attention to the beans:

Place the onion, carrot, celery, parsley, and garlic in the bowl of a food processor and pulse ten times for about one second each pulse.

Heat a soup pot over medium-high heat, then add the olive oil. Add the chopped vegetables to the oil, lower the heat slightly, and cook, stirring occasionally, for eight to ten minutes; until they're well blended, softened, and slightly caramelized.

Add the beans and enough water to cover by about one inch. Add the rosemary and sage, then season with the salt and freshly-ground black pepper. Bring to the boil, then lower to simmer and cook, partially covered, for one to one and a half hours, until tender. Drain in a colander and reserve.

When the spare ribs are done, return the beans to the soup pot, add the spare ribs and tomato sauce, and cook at a low simmer for about thirty minutes. Taste for salt and pepper and add to your taste if necessary.

To serve:

Place one spare spare rib in each of four plates, serve some beans to the side, then spoon about a quarter cup of sauce over the beans. Finally, garnish each plate with a sprinkling of the flat-leaf Italian parsley.

Serves four.

Technorati tags:  Spare Ribs, Italian Recipes, Skip Lombardi