Bolzano Salami Garganelli and My Library.

The inspiration for this quick, pan made pasta came started with my obsession with serial reading of cookbooks.  I may only read 2 or 3 novels a year, but I swear, I read at least a hundred cookbooks front to back.  That includes recipe texts as well... since you never can tell when some little bit of wording will prove inspirational at a later time.

I feel like I can never say enough good things about our library systems here in Wisconsin.  It was the same when I lived rurally, and I could still get my hands on tons of materials that the little one-room local library couldn't possibly house.  Interlibrary loans stretched far and wide and were made through the librarian, linking our small communities with (the "big" city of) LaCrosse, by dropping off weekly shipments.  In those days, I renewed by phone since I had no computer.

In not so much time, so much has changed.  My city has a huge library, and our outlying areas all under the Milwaukee County umbrella have access to the enormous wealth of (in my case) cooking materials.  Every few weeks, I am my own librarian and scour the new materials online, placing requests and eagerly anticipating new arrivals.  That is nothing to be said of my library branch's uncanny ability to consistently choose great titles across the broad genre of food writing to include in a collection that is literally steps from my house.  Some books (the ones I should actually break down and purchase) call their permanent home the library - even though half the year might be spent on the shelf in my kitchen.

I never want to take this for granted.  In the not so distant past, when I felt completely drained of monetary income, I had the wealth of books to sustain me.  Sure, if I had the space and income I would buy every book that strikes my fancy... but when faced with hard economic decisions, the library was my best friend and made me feel overwhelmingly better when things looked pretty bleak.

On the new shelf a few weeks back, I found a book by Max and Eli Sussman, brother-cooks from New York City who favor fairly straightforward, uncomplicated foods with big flavors.  When reading through, I paused at their pasta-making:  Jewish guys that benefited from restaurant kitchen Italians teaching them about elusive pasta dough.  After reading that paragraph one Monday morning at breakfast, I was absolutely compelled to make the dough they recommended - one that used some semolina flour and some all purpose, and more eggs than I've ever squished into pasta dough before.  Also in the pasta section of the book were instructions for making the garganelli shape.  I'd never heard of that, kind of a poor man's penne.  Rich man's penne actually, since the flavor of that pasta was unequaled to any pasta I've made (or eaten) to date.

I dehydrated my formed pasta for several hours until brittle, and stored in canning jars.  I had "two quarts" of garganelli and one sheet pan full of ribbony fettuccine to remind me of the Sussman brothers and the shear power of library inspiration.  While forming the somewhat tedious shells around the base of a wooden spoon, I began to think about the Bolzano salami that I needed to make a second (post-able) recipe with.

There could be nothing much more fitting than paring rich homemade pasta with similarly rich artisan salami.  I added a bit of broccoli for green healthfulness, and a not much more to make one of the most satisfying lunches.  It takes longer to clean up after yourself than to throw this pasta together.

Bolzano Salami Garganelli

2-3 lunch servings

• 4 oz. dried garganelli or penne pasta
• 3-4 T. extra virgin olive oil
• 2 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
• 2 oz. Bolzano salami, cut into 1/8 inch slices, then 1/8 inch strips
• 1/2 red onion, thinly sliced (I used a mandolin)
• 1 c. small broccoli florets, steamed until just tender
• fresh ground black pepper
• 1 1/2 oz. pecorino cheese, shaved into thin slices

Cook the pasta according to package directions in well salted water.  (If using homemade dried pasta, it will cook in 3-4 minutes.)  Drain the pasta and have it ready nearby before continuing.  Reserve a bit of the cooking water just in case you need to add moisture later.  At the same time, steam broccoli until just tender.

Film a 12” skillet with the olive oil and add the sliced garlic.  Heat over medium high heat until the garlic begins to sizzle, and then add the salami.  Sauté until the salami begins to release some of its oil and begins to brown, about 2 minutes.  Then add the onion and sauté until the onion is just wilted, about 1 minute. 

Quickly add the broccoli, stirring just to incorporate.  Finally, remove from the heat and add the pasta, tossing gently to coat everything well.  (If the pasta seems dry, add a bit of the reserved pasta cooking water.) Season well with black pepper, and garnish the platter (or servings) with the shaved pecorino cheese.  Add flake salt at the table if needed.

 

In their book, the Sussman brothers had a recipe for using their homemade garganelli pasta, a tomato based sauce with pancetta if I remember right.  Maybe their suggestion rubbed off on me.  All I know is that if you fry Bolzano salami in really good olive oil, you could have the base for any number of really delicious things.  Things that are really simple and uncomplicated, things that don't cost a lot of money but make you appreciate grandeur of a simple life spent mostly at home.

Interested in making the most of some quality salami?  Check out these links to other local bloggers also experimenting with Bolzano salami this week:

Molly from Peanut Butter & Pickles 

Susan from Little French Bakery

Melanie from From Fast Food to Fresh Food

Anna from Tallgrass Kitchen 

Lori and Paul from Burp!

Disclaimer:  Like the Salami Shakshuka I posted about earlier this week, I did receive this salami free of charge in exchange for writing a couple of recipes and promoting our local man, Scott Baur.  Of course, all opinions about Bolzano salami are my own.  Having already sampled other Bolzano products, and also having some familiarity with his local commitments to excellence in slow food, I knew I would have nothing to say but complementary things!  If you are looking for "Something Special from Wisconsin", look no further!

Daring Baker's Challenge March 2013: Hidden Vegetables.

Ruth from Makey-Cakey was our March 2013 Daring Bakers’ challenge host. She encouraged us all to get experimental in the kitchen and sneak some hidden veggies into our baking, with surprising and delicious results!

I kind of opted out on the challenge this month - in part because I've done my fair share of hiding vegetables in baked goods.  Instead of making something new,  I have quite a few successful experiments that I'll list here for you.

For example:

Beet Cake.  This was de-gluten-free-ified  from one of my favorite local bakers, Annie Wegner-LeFort. It was also a hit with my son, who would never touch a beet if prepared traditionally.  Click the photo for the recipe (and a link to the original, gluten-free recipe) on flickr.

Hidden Veg Muffins.  There is pureed carrot in here, and some banana, making for a muffin with very little refined sugar.  For some reason, my kid will not eat carrots - but I try and sneak them in where I can, and this is one place where they went undetected.  Recipe is also linked to the photo on flickr.

And speaking of muffins, these Sweet Potato Muffins went over well at my house as well.  A whole cup of sweet potato puree in these!

I mentioned in the notes for these Vegan Zucchini Carrot Muffins (also posted on flickr), that the world really doesn't need another muffin recipe - but that sometimes a good muffin recipe is hard to find.  I've made these several times - and they are deliciously able to hide about 2 cups of shredded vegetables and keep them hidden from suspecting children.

On a more desserty note, I had tinkered for some time with black bean brownies.  I probably haven't made them again in the 3 years since I wrote about them, but they were good, and vegan to boot.  I do highly recommend whipped cream with cayenne pepper though, which is what made these brownies not truly vegan.

Deena's Chocolate Zucchini Cake is probably one of my most favorite cakes ever - if you don't include her Honey Cake.  So much of what Deena writes sticks like glue in my  head.  The opening of her post on this worthy cake says: "My friend's husband once left her a note in the kitchen that read: Honey, we're out of bundt cake."  I always think of this when I want to make a bundt cake, because I grew up in a bundt cake-eating family, and I long to hear (or see)  these words lingering around a bundt in my own house.  My Husband is not so much a sweets eater, so I live vicariously through these words - and I make this bundt cake in the height of zucchini season when I have friends for supper.  Perhaps when my kids grow big enough to leave me notes, I'll be as lucky as Deena's friend...

Since adding copious amounts of shredded vegetables to cake is usually always a good idea, I took Susan from Wild Yeast's lead and made a cake with a whole lot of shredded parsnip.  The original cake was made with carrots, and it too is one of my favorites.  I try to leave myself a supply of sourdough ends to dry and grind up, just so I have the ability to make it on a whim, since there is no flour in this recipe - only dried bread crumbs!  I wonder how this cake would fare with well-drained zucchini?

Sourdough Breadcrumb Parsnip Cake.

Most recently, I made these Carrot-Banana Muffins, which were devoid of refined sugar and gluten.  In my opinion, they are the perfect near-dessert muffin - and they really satisfy a sweet tooth.  And we all know that I have a whole mouth full of those that I'm trying to deal with.

Hopefully, I'll be bake to my Daring self next month and able to concoct something new and exciting.  But I'm glad I had a chance to think back on all of the ways I've been successfully able to hide vegetables in the baked goods here at my house.  Be sure to check the Daring Baker blogroll and website for more inspiration!

Salami Shakshuka.

It seems lately that I haven't been so inspired to sit in front of the computer and write.  I'm inspired to cook good food (especially good food just for myself), and enjoy eating good food (even if it is a solitary lunch alone in my dining room), I'm just not so inspired to take to the Internet and brag about it.  I wonder if it has something to do with my mothering instinct, that I can take the time to labor over soaking and sprouting and fermenting things, but not necessarily to tell the masses about it.  Perhaps it is the primitive need to nourish and carry on without the trappings of the digital age.

Meanwhile all sorts of little triumphs have happened in my kitchen, for instance my picky-eating boy is starting to break out of his shell and at least try new things.  Most of the time, it ends in confession that he likes something new.  In part, this is because I stopped catering to the whims of both of my boys and I just cook food.  There is good food here and if you are hungry you will eat it, or at least try it.  St. Patrick's Day potato and kale colcannon (via The Domestic Man and his tantalizing facebook photo of it) didn't go down so well with the picky-kid, but the roasted cabbage and Outpost-made Irish sausage on the side did... and when I disguised the leftover potatoes and kale into a creamy cabbage/broccoli/"spinach" soup, it got demolished without comment.

I had hoped for the same for this shakshuka I was planning with the Bolzano salami I received recently to play around with.  A group of local food bloggers were challeged to come up with 2 recipes each using some real-deal, hand crafted, local salami.  I signed up for the Pamplona Runner salami, which I hadn't tasted before.  While I awaited it's arrival, I thought back to some of the early PBS watching days of my pregnancy, the days when food didn't taste good unless it appeared already made before me.  When Cuisine Culture went to Israel and cooked up a couple versions of shakshuka using local cheese, I could think of nothing that I'd like someone to make me than that.  But being the only cook in my house, I had to wait until I felt like cooking again to indulge my whims.

I actually thought long and hard about using a pork sausage in a dish that seems so inherently Jewish and Muslim at the same time...  I also thought about embracing more of a Spanish flare to the simple preparation.  But in the end, I just made some good food with some of my favorite flavors.  It was perfect and simple and I enjoyed alone for lunch one day.

This salami is not overpowering, its smoked paprika flavor not too spicy at all.  I chose not to add too much additional spice flavor to let it shine through as it fried in the oil.  I actually enjoyed this dish for two days in a row - some might frown on saving a sunny side up egg for another day, but I just popped a lid on the frying pan for refrigerated storage and then reheated the whole thing until it was bubbly throughout.  I daresay it was even better the second day - and of course even less work!

Bolzano Salami Shakshuka

Serves 1-2 people

• 2 T. extra virgin olive oil
• 1-2 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 1 oz. Bozano salami, sliced as thinly as possible
• ¼ c. chopped red onion
• ¼ c. chopped mixed sweet and hot peppers (I used cubanelle, red bell, and green bell peppers, with half a serrano pepper)
• ½ c. drained whole (or crushed) tomatoes (I used home canned tomatoes)
•  2 T. reserved tomato juice (from the canned tomatoes)
• ½ t. cumin powder 
•  ½ t. Aleppo pepper
• fresh ground black pepper
• 2 eggs (may add additional 1-2 eggs if desired)
• chopped cilantro and crumbled queso fresco for garnish

In a small bowl, mix the tomatoes with reserved tomato juice, cumin, and Aleppo pepper.  Use a fork or your fingers to break up any large chunks of tomato.  Set aside.

In a small skillet, heat olive oil along with the thinly sliced garlic over medium heat.  When the garlic starts to sizzle, add the salami and sauté until the salami releases some of its oil and begins to crisp up.  Add a bit of black pepper to taste, a few grinds from a peppermill will do.

Add the onion, and sauté for about 2 minutes, just until the onion begins to soften a little.  Add the peppers, and continue to sauté just until the peppers are crisp tender, 2-3 minutes.  Reduce heat to medium low.

Add the tomato mixture, stir well, cover, and let simmer for 3-4 minutes to let all of the flavors meld.  Increase the heat to medium and make two indentations in the tomato mixture for the eggs.  Crack the eggs into the spaces, and let them cook (sunny side up style) until done to your liking, about 4-5 minutes. (If you cover the pan, the yolks will turn cloudy and cook more thoroughly.)

Serve in the skillet with good bread on the side.  If needed, add good flake salt at the table.  The salami adds enough salt that you likely will not need any additional.

 Maybe, I knew I'd like this enough that I didn't want to share - and that's why I decided to make this for my lunch on a school day.  But when our Friday night pizza ritual came around (we've had a solid 2 months of pizza on Friday nights; my son actively helping me by stretching his own dough and topping pizzas himself!), I sliced some salami for my pizza.  One bite by the pickiest member of my family and he was hooked.  The kid likes salami pizza.

salami pizza.

While I continue to improve on expanding his taste buds, one thing is certain:  I am going to invest in more salami.  While on a fairly strict food budget lately, quality ingredients like this salami actually pay for themselves.  I easily got 4 dishes out of one stick, most of them serving more than 2 people.  It's an indulgence, but definitely a justifiable one.  If you need a bit more inspiration, check out posts from other Bolsano salami experimenters this week:

Molly from Peanut Butter & Pickles 

Susan from Little French Bakery

Melanie from From Fast Food to Fresh Food

Anna from Tallgrass Kitchen 

Lori and Paul from Burp!

Disclaimer:  I did receive this salami free of charge in exchange for writing a couple of recipes and promoting our local man, Scott Baur.  Of course, all opinions about Bolzano salami are my own.  Having already sampled other Bolzano products, and also having some familiarity with his local commitments to excellence in slow food, I knew I would have nothing to say but complementary things!  If you are looking for "Something Special from Wisconsin", look no further!

Sourdough Surprises March 2013: Cake!

It was funny that cake was the sourdough theme of the month for the Sourdough Surprises baking group.  Just before the announcement,  my Facebook friend (and all-around good, real food maven) Holly was talking about some amazing changes she made to a chocolate sourdough cake.  It took me a few days to realize that the reason her cake looked so good and so familiar was because I had already made it - and changed it with similar results!  I've said it before but it's true that it is a good thing that I have this space to write things down or I'd never remember half of what I've made.

The sourdough cake that we both loved was this one from King Arthur Flour.  I had played around with it quite a bit (apparently, that was a year ago already), and then in my quest for not eating as much dessert, I let it go for too long a time.  As Holly did, I had cut the sugar in half, but in my experiments this month, I used a different hydration sourdough starter - and both coconut and olive oils for the fat.  The result was a moister version of that butter cake I made a year ago, and one that was not really high in sugar.  Not counting the frosting, and allowing for 9 large slices in a 8x8 glass pan, I figure it around a tablespoon per serving.

I've been in full swing with Ken Forkish's breads - all of them turning out stellar, and I may be hooked on the 80% hydration starter that he calls for.  I'm still figuring out the best feeding schedule for both my baking and waste reduction, but meanwhile, I'm turning 80% starter into all of my old favorites:  crackers, cake and pancakes all turning out better than with my 100% liquid levain.  The only thing I forgot about making this cake is that it takes some serious arm power (and lack of concern for gluten toughening) to incorporate the starter into a homogenized looking batter.  

Don't be afraid to beat this cake until you are certain you have overbeaaten it, otherwise you may have traces of white sourdough bits in your chocolate cake, which you can't really taste, but they aren't as pretty.  And a stand mixer might work, but avoid using a hand mixer... I learned the hard way that the batter tends to climb up the beaters and generally make a huge mess of things.

Chocolate Sourdough Cake (adapted from King Arthur Flour, with regard to Holly Langenburg, and my previous chocolate sourdough cake post)

makes one 8x8 inch cake

• 1/2 c. well-fed 80% sourdough starter (about 150 g.)
• 1/2 c. milk
• 1 c. AP flour

• 1/4 c. melted coconut oil
• 1/4 c. olive oil
• scant 1/2 c. sugar
• 1/2 t. salt
• 1 t. vanilla
• 6 heaping T. cocoa powder (natural process)
• 3/4 t. baking soda
• 1 egg

Combine starter, milk and flour in a mixing bowl and let ferment. (KAF says at least 3 hours, I ferment at least 8, and this particular cake fermented for 16.  It's okay to leave it at room temperature during this fermentation time.) After ferment time, proceed:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

In a good sized bowl, mix the oils, sugar, and salt together well.  Add the vanilla, cocoa powder, baking soda, and egg, and mix thoroughly.

Add the sourdough/milk/flour ferment to the chocolate-butter mixture. I found it easiest to use a sturdy spatula to mix the two - be firm but not vigorous and also be patient. Stir to combine until very few streaks of sourdough remain, and the batter looks like batter. It's sticky stuff!

Pour into a greased 8x8 glass baking dish, and use a metal knife or spatula dipped in water to spread batter evenly in the pan. The cake does "dome" a little, so you can try to push a bit more batter into the corners than into the center if this matters to you. Bake for 30-35 minutes until a tester in the center comes out clean.

You can use whatever frosting you like to top it after it cools completely - I just went with a simple American-style buttercream in a thin layer..

Sourdough Lithuanian Coffee Cake.

I have made a number of cakes with sourdough starter - and also talked about them before.  Most recently, I was excited about this Lithuanian Coffee Cake.

I also truly love this fully fermented Applesauce Cake, which uses a whole pint of home-canned applesauce and is based on a Spanish Bar Cake recipe my Gram used to make.

I'm fairly certain that sourdough cakes are not something I'm done experimenting with - and I'm sure I'll find plenty of links this month to convince me to consume a bit more sugar!  Take a look below to check some of them out!

Bread in Every Meal.

You would think I'm not eating much, what with the infrequency of my writing life lately.  I can assure you that is not the case.  In fact, I've come to blissful (re)discovery that indeed almost every meal can be improved with bread.  Relatedly, I'm increasingly grateful that my old bread appetites are fully back and ever since that brief, pregnancy induced repulsion, I have renewed appreciation for the staff of life.

(Little Goat Bread's apple and pistachio loaf on the left, my Forkish-style sourdough on the right.)

It may have actually started a few weeks back when Deena and I were chatting online and she mentioned that her Basque country friends revere bread so much that they incorporate it into nearly every eating experience.  Intrigued, for days I imagined my stale bread crumbled into some strong coffee laced with milk as she described...  I didn't go so far (yet) as to actually drinking my bread, but increasingly I have been using every last crumb of my loaves.

Not that I ever wasted old bread.  I usually dried the last several slices and ground them up into breadcrumbs, which somehow always seem to come in handy.  But more recently, I make my eating schedule up around these gorgeous loaves that seem to have graced me with their abundant presence.  Like I am not any sort of real baker, like they arrive mysteriously overnight and fill my little kitchen with shear wealth of kitchen alchemy, they are too good to have come from my hands:  reminders that good bread is as much a product of the elements as intuitive know-how.

I'm also reminded of the electronic age in which I live.  I hate it.  But then, with so much food inspiration running into me on a daily basis, it's hard to deny myself the pleasures of the Internet.  This morning, Autumn Makes and Does posted about a Kale Panzanella she made, and just after clearing the breakfast dishes, I was toasting up the last of the old bread in really (really) good olive oil to start my lunch.  Cooking lunch for myself is such a pleasure, I need almost to be coaxed not to eat at home.  Of course, when lunchtime came around, I was more than pleased with my altered version of her recipe:  garlicky, massaged raw kale, tossed with those Outpost chile olives that I am obsessed with for years, a handful of raisins, more olive oil, lemon juice, and some of the chile olive brine for good measure.  It was so good, I'm looking forward to having the same thing for lunch tomorrow.

Since I'm a pregnant lady, I added a poached egg and some avocado.  I need the protein, and I wanted to try out the Serious Eats method of egg poaching that David Leibovitz posted on Facebook last week...  I learned that the strainer method does make for a pretty perfect looking poached egg, but also that my superfresh farm eggs have virtually no runny white to fall through the strainer - so if I'm not too picky about the pursuit of perfection, I can skip that part.

As for the Ken Forkish bread that I am still thrilled with:  click on the photo below for my baker notes.  I love that this bread proofs entirely in the fridge with hardly a second thought from me.  I'm patiently rereading the formulas, and am convinced that I have to try some of his other loaves - if only this first one I tried wasn't already so perfect.  4 weeks in now, and I've yet to produce a faulty loaf.

So other inspirational lunches from breads lately?  A savory feta and spinach bread "pudding" that was based on Heidi Swanson's Food and Wine post.

A stellar homemade hummus (courtesy of Alton Brown) that employed effortlessly creamy garbanzos cooked in a slow cooker (with more of those Outpost chile olives).

There were probably more instances, definitely there were.  But saving you from a post of 30 photos taken on an iPhone and the manic ravings of a bread obsessed supergeek shows my genuine concern for keeping up my small readership.  Today anyway, I am the Queen of Restraint.

Perhaps I'll close with a thought from Ken Forkish (in his book, Flour Water Salt Yeast) that I can't seem to get out of my mind.  Giant loaves of bread were baked in Europe years ago because families didn't have access to home ovens.  The community oven was fired once or twice a week and bakers would bring their risen loaves to bake.  The bread had to last until the next time an oven was fired - rationed appropriately and the weekly meal planning surrounded it.  Of the 3-kilo (6+ pounds) loaves his bakery produces, he feels those giants taste best around the 3-day mark, having a sufficient time to age and accustom to their environment.

He also goes on to say that his patrons don't eat that much bread, so they need to sell those monster breads in half or quarter loaves.  How sad, I've been thinking for the past week, that we have become so afraid of the carbohydrate (even though properly prepared sourdough breads pose none of the threats of common supermarket loaves, "wholegrain" or not) that this old-country tradition of bread with every meal is all but erased from our collective knowledge.

My bread isn't 6 pounds, but it is around 2 pounds, and I can get by baking just one a week being creative to use every morsel of it to the best of my ability.  This translates to strings of beautiful lunches, sometimes baking day breakfasts of week old French toast which we devour with true appreciation.  Never yet have I had a loaf of my bread mold.  This is the stuff that sustains, the realness of life and the centerpiece of my kitchen.  This is the staff that I can make into every meal.