Casunzei: Delicate Pillows of Yumminess

I realized today that I am at my ideal weight if I were 6'7".  I would also be polishing my NBA championship ring and gargling Cristal Champagne while lounging on a pile of cash.  Of course none of that would change the fact that I am still bald.  So, given that I am not 6'7" and a specimen who can easily get away with a bald head, I compensate for my aesthetic misfortune by not making very much money, having a poor attitude and poorer social skills.  My wife is the envy of our entire community. 

I hate that term, by the way; bald.  I prefer the term 'balding.'  That just sounds more productive.  "Hey Brent, what are you up to?"  "Who me?  I've been balding.  Gotten it down to science in fact."  And I really can't stand the phrase "losing his hair."  That implies that if I had been more responsible, this never would have happened. 

Of course, I can't really get away with the term 'balding' either.  Look at me.  Saying I'm 'balding' is like saying pregnant women are 'pregnanting' or Snooki is 'annoying-ing.'  I just have to face the ugly reality that I have climbed Mt. St. Bald and I have planted my flag.  Is it any wonder, why I fill my empty void with food and the laughter of strangers?  And by the way, you hoity toity full frock of hair types, I have some information for you.  When we are born we are given a fixed amount of hormones.  If you want to use yours to grow hair that's your business. 

But I have declared that if I'm going to be miserable, I can at least make it a delicious ride.  My latest cooking obsession has been with pasta and Italian cuisine.  The impetus for this obsession comes on the heals of a summer trip I made to Babbo Ristorante in NYC.  It is the flagship restaurant of celebrity chef Mario Batali. 

This was a bucket list restaurant that I had wanted to try for ages.  We made the reservations, which can be booked as far as 2 months in advance and be quite difficult to come by.  Fortune must have been on my side as a table was available the week we were going to be there.  We decided to partake of the pasta tasting menu with wine pairing and it was a feast that I will never forget.  The food was so good it literally made my knees buckle.  I would take a bite and have to sit and come to grips with what I was experiencing, like some hippy in a moment of existential discovery.  It was a soul singing kind of moment. 

One of the pasta dishes that was served to us was Casunzei, which is the Italian term for a fresh filled pasta consisting of a filling sealed between two layers of thin pasta dough, folded in a typical half-moon shape. They are commonly home-made and are typical of the culinary tradition of the Dolomites area, in the north-eastern part of Italy, especially the provinces of Belluno, Vicenza, and Verona. The pre-cooked and finely ground filling varies from area to area and typically includes vegetables and ricotta cheese.  We were served one of the traditional forms consisting of roasted chioggia beets and ricotta filled ravioli.  This was my wife and I's favorite course of the whole 8 course meal.  The ravioli was earthy and sweet from the beet that was balanced with a rich brown butter sauce and finished with poppy seeds, scallions and a smoky shaved ricotta salata.  I knew after I had sampled this Casunzei, that this bald fat man would have to try this at home.  So this entry is devoted to my attempt at replicating this ridiculously delicious pasta dish.  It is fairly straight forward and simple in its process, but does take time if you go the extra step in making your own pasta.  If you do not wish to make your own pasta you can get some won ton wrappers from the grocery store and use those as a suitable substitute.

 What you will need:

INGREDIENTS
1 pound roasted Chioggia beets, peeled and finely chopped to yield 2 cups
1 pound russet potatoes, boiled and riced to yield 1 cup
1 cup fresh ricotta
1 basic pasta recipe (see below)
3 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons poppy seeds
Smoked ricotta salata
Parsley

So what in the world is a chioggia beet?  It is named for a fishing town near Venice. Uniquely beautiful flesh has alternating red and white concentric rings that resemble a bull’s-eye. 

If you can't locate one of these, you can easily substitute a red beet.  In fact many italian restaurants utilize the more common red beet, which gives the dish a rather compelling contrast of colors that is quite interesting. 

So first things first.  Roasting the beet.  I was able to find a single beet that was 1 lb, which is pretty large, so the roasting time lasted just over an hour.  Your roasting time may vary based on the size of the beets you buy.  The process for roasting these little darlings is quite simple.

Preheat your oven for 400 degrees.  While the oven is heating up trim you beets until the bulb is remaining, drizzle it generously with extra virgin olive oil; add salt and pepper and place in tin foil.  Fold and crimp the edges and place in the oven to bake.

In the meantime, make your pasta.  If you decide to go the wonton wrapper route, you can skip this process entirely.  If you are stlightly more daring, the recipe for basic pasta dough is as follows:

Basic Pasta recipe

3-1/2 to 4 cups flour

4 large eggs

½ teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil

Mound 3-1/2 cups of the flour in the center of a large wooden cutting board or workable surface.  Make a well in the middle of the flour and add the eggs and the olive oil.  Using a fork beat together the eggs and oil and begin to incorporate the flour, starting with the inner rim of the well.

As you expand the well, keep pushing the flour up from the base of the mound to retain the well shape.  The dough will come together when half of the flour is incorporated.

Good Lord.  I think I've found "Big Foot."  Is that my arm or the setting for this season of Survivor?  Gracious, you could brush your teeth with that thing.  Sorry, I digress.

Start kneading the dough with both hands, using the palms of your hands.  Once you have a cohesive mass, remove the dough from the board and scrape up and discard any leftover bits.  Lightly re-flour the board and continue to kneading for 6 more minutes (don't skimp on this step; it is crucial that the dough be thoroughly worked to help develop the glutens and elasticity that is necessary).  The dough should be elastic and a little sticky.  Wrap the dough in plastic and allow to rest for 30 minutes at room temperature.  Makes 4 servings.

At this stage you should still have 30 minutes or more of roasting time remaining.  Take this time to peel, dice, boil and mash your russet potato.  If you have a ricer or food mill, by all means use it for a smoother texture.  If you don't have one, simply use a masher or pulse it in a food processor.

 Peel and dice your beet and add to the potatoes and mash together or pusle together in a food processor.  If using a food processor you may need to do this in batches.

 

 

Mix the beet, russet and ricotta together in a large bowl.  Add salt and freshly ground black pepper cover in plastic wrap and refrigerate.

Using a pasta machine roll out the pasta to its thinnest setting and cut the sheets into 4 inch squares.  The pasta needs to be thin enough to see your fingers through.  This is a delicate pasta that screams of a need to see the filling it is holding.  With a ring cutter cut out circles.  Place a tablespoon of the ricotta mixture on one half of the circle, with water or egg wash moisten the edge  then fold over and seal. 

Bring 6 quarts of water to a boil and 2 tablespoons of salt to a boil.  The rule of thumb here is 6 quarts of water per pound of pasta.  This helps prevent sticking and keeps the water at a boil when you add the cold pasta.  Which is critical.  If you do not have enough water for the pasta, the temperature drops significantly and it won't cook properly.  This pasta is done when it starts to rise to the top. 

In a 14 to 16 inch saute pan heat the butter on high heat until it foams then subsides.  This needs carefull attention, because the window between delicious and disgusting is small.  This is a step that is just beyond melted butter to where the butter starts to change colors and adds a more complex nutty taste that is ridiculously tasty.  What is happening is the milk solids are separating and browning.  The trick is to recognize the right color and aroma, then to stop the cooking by adding a bit of the pasta water.  When it reaches the right color as seen below, add a spoonful of pasta water and toss gently for a minute.

 Season with salt and pepper.  Add the pasta and toss gently.  Divide the pasta evenly among 4 plates and finish with poppy seeds, parsley and the smoked ricotta salata.  I couldn't find any smoked ricotta salata so i added a bit of smoked paprika to get that smoky feel and just used regular ricotta salata.

For those of you who don't know, ricotta salata is a variation of traditional ricotta that has been pressed, salted and dried.  If you can't find any, parmagiano reggiano is fine or a pecorino.  You really can't go wrong. 

Here is my version side by side with what I had at Babbo.  Can you tell the difference?

The paprika on mine gives it away.  I also used parsely instead of scallions, but not too far from the original if I do say so myself.  I loveeee this dish.  And I don't typically even like beets, but presented in this format it is yumminess the 2nd power. 

All of That and A Bowl of Soup

Friday night after a meal of pasta prepared by my fabulous mother-in-law, I had not yet gotten to the dishes and my son was playing at the stove, as if he was cooking.  He was using the dirty pots and pans that were sitting there.  He told me he was making soup.  He was adding every ingredient he could find.  I started showing him different spices.  He crushed up some Mexican Oregano.  He dropped a pinch of salt.  He ground some fresh black pepper.  He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of soy sauce and he added all these components into a pan of "noodle water," as he called it, from the left over pasta.  It was acres of fun watching him try a little of this and try a little of that making a culinary masterpiece from the shadows of his infinite 6 year old imagination.  I couldn't have been more proud of him.  My heart vibrated through my soul when he called to me over his shoulder, as he was stirring his broth with a wooden spoon, "I'm a good cook too.  Just like you daddy."  Life truly doesn't get any better than that.

It instantly transported me to those priceless moments when I was his age; standing on a stack of phone books, as my grandmother, hand over hand, guided my wooden spoon through a pot of beans for supper.  The aromas that floated from Meme's cast iron skillet still waft through my consciousness to this day.  With tears welling up in my eyes my son looked at me and said "taste."  And while my taste buds objected my heart knew I will never encounter a more beautiful plate of food.

When I finished sampling the nector of my 6 year old, he suggested that we make Chicken Noodle Soup together.  Well, now he's speaking my language.  I had made some dark chicken stock earlier in the week, so this was the perfect chance to use it for the greatest of all purposes, my son wanted to. 

Life has come full circle with me guiding my son's spoon this time.  New aromas are filling the kitchen and implanting themselves into his memory. 

There are no recipes for this entry.  Honestly, how can you measure out imagination and love in quantifiable steps, because that is what our soup tasted like.  We couldn't buy those ingredients at Whole Foods.  No these ingredients were simply cultivated deep under the rich soil that allows my family to grow. 

We've had some rough seasons, even times of famine and drought where our survival wasn't always certain.  Some could look at our history and it would look to many like 'yucky' old left-over noodle water that has been seasoned with childish affronts to the conventional.  To me, it is the affirmation that we may have scars in this life, but these scars are the souvenirs collected along the shores of our better nature.  These scars remind us.  They haunt us.  They hide us.  Bult ultimately they ornament us.  And that is the freshest thing produced from the fickle earth under my family; "us."  We are more than the sum of our parts.  There is more than my wife and son and me.  There is who we are together.  There is  who we are in the breathless cackle of my son as I tickle him in the morning to wake him up.  There is who we are in the cups of tea left for my wife every morning as she heads off to work.  There is who we are in the moments shared with my wife, looking at the sky from our back patio smelling the air ten minutes before it rains.  Its all of these things.  Its all of that and a bowl of soup. 

Little Kneck Clams Steamed in a Habanero Chive Broth

Growing up my parents were not great fans of sea food so we didn't partake.  We grew up on the smells of pot roasts braising in the oven for Sunday dinner.  My grandmother who I called Meme, would occassionally fry up some catfish  that my grandfather and my brothers, father and uncles whould catch in the Lake at Fort Cobb.  She would serve it up with a side of red beans and corn bread.  But that was the extent of my sea food palate. 

My wife grew up on the Jersey shore where she was exposed to an array of ocean critters and it has been through her that I have expanded my sea food horizons.  Most of the meals I cook are for her and this first entry is my nod to her and her coastal roots.  She was the one who encouraged me to put this blog together and so it is only fitting that the firsts dish be in her honor.

I wanted to use one of her favorite foods, clams and I wanted to fuse it with influences from one of my favorite chefs Mario Batali.  I had the pleasure of eating at his flagship restaurant, Babbo a few months ago and have never tasted yummier food.  This is a simple Babbo inspired dish of Little Kneck Clams that I steamed in a broth of white wine, habanero, tomato and chives. 

Clams have a flavor that is truly like breathing in the briny Jersey shore air.  The little knecks that I got at Whole Foods are reminiscent of those Jersey Clams my wife introduced me to at some dive in her home town.  But beyond that I'm a Texan who loves a little heat so kicking these clams up a level with a habanero seemed in order.  I'm slowly trying to introduce my wife to the wonders of a little heat.  I try not to overpower her by keeping balance in mind and I think this dish does just that. 

If you've never worked with habaneros before, be careful, they pack a wallup.  Parsimony is required.  By all means wear kitchen gloves and for God's sake don't touch your eyes after handling one, they will burn like you've just been shot with mace. 

Alright, enough chit chat.  Let's get to it.

What you will need:

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/2 red onion finely chopped
4 garlic cloves sliced
1 habanero finely diced
1 bunch of chives cut in 1 inch pieces
2 lbs of Little Kneck Clams
2 cups dry white wine
1/2 cup of Mario Batali's basic tomato sauce (recipe follows)
Kosher Salt
Finely cracked black pepper to taste

1. In a 3 quart sauce pan, heat the olive oil on high until just about smoking (keep a keen eye on this, olive oil has a pretty low smoke point if it reaches the smoke point it becomes upalatable).  Add the onions and garlic and cook for 5 minutes, or until soft and lightly browned. (Do not over brown the garlic as it will become bitter; sauteing until just golden gives the garlic a nuttiness that provides more complexity to the overall dish). 

Add the chile, half of the chives, the clams, wine and tomato sauce and bring to a boil. 

Cover and cook until all the clams steam open, about 5 minutes.  Discard any clams that do not open.

2. Season the broth with salt and pepper.  Divide the clams and broth evenly among four warmed bowls, top with remaining chives, and serve with your favorite bread.

Mario Batali's Basic Tomato Sauce

If you don't have this recipe you will do yourself a big favor by having it as one of your staples.  It is simple and is an ingredient you can add to mountains of recipes.  You can use it as part of your braising liquid for pot roast along with stock and a good wine.  You can use it for spaghetti as the base for a bolognese.  It makes about 4-6 cups; you can freeze it and use it as needed.  By the way, when you make this the aroma will make everyone in your house homicidal with hunger.  Take out a good insurance policy. 

What you will need:

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

1 spanish onion, finely diced

4 garlic cloves, peeled and thinly sliced

3 tablespoons chopped fresh thyme (or 1tsp dry)

½ medium carrot, finely shredded (sounds weird for tomato sauce, but this adds sweetness without adding sugar)

2 23-ounce cans of San Marzano peeled whole tomatoes

Kosher salt, to taste

In a 3-quart saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat.  Add the onion and garlic and cook until soft and light golden brown, 8-10 minutes.  

Add the thyme and carrot and cook for 5 minutes more, or until the carrot is soft. 

With your hands, crush the tomatoes and add them with their juices.  Bring to a boil, strirring often,

 and then lower the heat and simmer for 30 minutes, or until the sauce is as thick as hot cereal. 

Season with salt and serve.  If you prefer a smoother texture you can puree it in a blender or food processor.