Carmelita's Cookitaly

Sicilian Bucatini al Ragù

Leafing through Paola Andolina's "Cucina di Sicilia" I came across a recipe for "Pasta a' ragù" and thought I'd give it a try as I had all the ingredients available. It has the typically Sicilian combination of sweet and savoury in the pine nuts and raisins element. Originally it would have been currants (uvetta di Corinto), the dried Corinth grapes that are tiny, almost black and fairly sharp, not as sweet as the regular raisins (uvetta) that tend to be used today. I can get currants in Sicily but not in Bologna so it was raisins for me when I made it a few days ago.

I have to tell you that in making this recipe I've discovered a new favourite: this is a pasta I will be making again and again and again. I love how you get the occasional hint of sweetness when you bite on a raisin, the extra texture the pine nuts contribute. It's a nice straightforward recipe, not too much time and no special skills needed to make a deliciously tasty and different pasta dish that will be devoured greedily - maybe even plates licked when no one's looking!

I have adapted the recipe only slightly from the one in the book cited above, mainly in expanding the very brief description of the steps in the process

Bucatini al Ragù

For 4 people you will need

300g (10/11ounces) Bucatini or broken up Ziti pasta - buy artisan if you can
a can of whole peeled plum tomatoes  - in summer ideally use fresh tomato sauce
2 tablespoons tomato paste - I use Mutti Triplo Concentrato
a small onion
2 tbsp EVO oil
200g (half a pound) ground beef
100g (1 cup) fresh shelled peas or use frozen (in the past, out of season, they'd have use home preserved peas)
12g (2 tablespoons) pine nuts
12g (2 tablespoons) raisins
Pecorino Stagionato to grate at table - Parmigiano-Reggiano, Grana Padano and Ricotta Salata are all preferable to over-salty Pecorinio Romano 

Put the contents of the tin of tomatoes through a sieve to remove stray bits of peel and seeds.
Dilute the tomato paste in 2 tablespoons fo warm water.
Chop the onion and soften in the olive oil with 2 tablspoons of water so that it does not fry or brown.
Add the minced beef when the onion is well wilted and stir till browned.
Add the peas, pine nuts and raisins and leave to cook together for a few minutes for flavours to marry.
Tip in the sieved tomatoes and the diluted tomato paste and stir well.
Turn the heat down and leave to simmer and reduce gently for 30 minutes.
Be sure to stir for time to time and top up with a little water if needed.
Cook the pasta al dente  - I always do 2/3 minutes less than the packet instructions then I taste and decide.
Drain the pasta well, mix it with two thirds of the dressing and serve, spooning some reserved ragù on top of each portion.
Pass the cheese round for everyone to grate over and tuck in immediately so the pasta does not overcook and soften to flabby -  which in Italy is a food crime! 

Conchiglioni

The name means large shells and the shape is somewhat like a cowrie shell, slightly elongated. This is one of the best pastas for stuffing, filling and baking. Other good large format pasta shapes that work well are Lumaconi, which are shaped like snail shells, and Paccheri, which are like very large Rigatoni - more on those last two later.

Growing up in Malta, we often had ricotta, Reggiano and parsley filled Lumaconi which were layered with tomato sauce in a deep casserole and baked. When in a hurry, my pharmacist mother would simply place some tomato sauce at the bottom of the casserole, then a layer of part cooked pasta, then the ricotta mix, more  tomato sauce, another layer each of pasta, ricotta, tomato sauce and grated Reggiano on top. So delicious either way, I miss that kind of Southern Sunday lunch baked pasta, it is not easy to find here in northern Bologna unless you make it yourself.

One thing about baked pasta shells or tubes is that they must not be fully cooked when you fill them, or they tear and break. In any case they are going to cook further in the oven and of course overcooked pasta is an unforgivable crime! So Italian cooks will err on the side of undercooked not overcooked pasta. As the saying goes "Better a hard heart than a soft heart when it comes to pasta." 

So you cook the pasta to just about two thirds of the cooking time, have your sauce a little more watery than usual, and cover the pasta with foil initially so that it can finish cooking in the steam. I must say that despite long experience growing up, I still check from time to see how it's coming along. I'll top up with hot water if it seems on the dry side, though dry and crisp is better than flabby and gummy. You then take the foil off for the last 5 or 10 minutes to allow the top to go nice and golden, and to get some tasty little crunchy bits.

A recipe will be coming up next now that I've shared the tips and tricks:stand by for Conchiglioni al Forno, Baked Pasta Shells.

Pettole

These are the nice versatile pasta squares I wrote about in an earlier post.  The pasta package describes then as being originally from the Abruzzo region, which has a great, very varied cuisine. Perhaps this is not a classic traditional passa but in any case pettole are well suited to the ground lamb or pork with sweet pepper sauces of the Abruzzi region.

Squares of pasta of varying sizes are found in a number of other regions, sometimes made with soft flour and eggs, sometimes with hard (durum wheat) flour and water. North Western Tuscany has the confusingly named "maccheroni", which are squares or rectangles of egg pasta and nothing to do with the tubes shape at all. They are used in a traditional dish called Pasta Tordellata. The pasta squares are loosely layered with leafy greens in winter or asparagus and fava beans in spring, plus fresh ricotta and a light meat sauce, very delicious. Liguria has the prettily named Mandilli de Saea, or silk handkerchiefs, which alas are becomingly increasingly rare. The usual dressing for these is a classic Genovese pesto.

All of these pasta squares are very versatile and can be served with a number of different sauces though they suit protein / veg mixtures especially well. They are also good for a number of the thick chunky soups called "minestre", a category which includes the classic beans and pasta, the famous Pasta e Fagioli and its relative Pasta e Ceci or chickpeas and pasta..

Mafalde

You probably haven't ever seen these. They are clearly from the South, given the ripple edges, and are "Pasta Compra"  or bought pasta rather than a "Pasta Fatta in Casa" or home made pasta.

These frilly durum wheat sheets are considerably wider than egg pasta Pappardelle at 6 centimetres or about 2 and a quarter inches wide, yet  narrower than the similarly rippled edged sheets used for Naples Lasagna, which are about 9 centimetres or 3 and a half inches wide. 

What does their name mean? Well, round the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, so not long after the unification of Italy in 1861, it was quite the thing to name dishes and pasta shapes in honour of the Royal family. Think of the Pizza Margherita named for Queen Margherita di Savoia in 1889 for example. It seems likely that this pasta is named after Princess Mafalada, the little girl born to King Victor Emmanuel III  and Queen Margerita in 1902 - which explains why many elderly ladies also bear this name. There are narrower Mafalde called Mafaldine or little Mafalde, and an even narrower ruffled edged noodle is called Regine (Queens) or Reginette (little Queens), presumably in honour of Mafalda's Mum.

I have not come across any recipes for such wide noodles, nor have i ever eaten a dish made with them. I bought them out of curiosity, and for a new pasta experience. The recipes I have seen for "Mafalde" all have pictures where the pasta looks narrower, more like Mafaldine than these big babies to me. The recipes dress the Mafald(in)e most commonly with tomato and ricotta or meat ragù and ricotta. But I have also come across recipes for sauces made with  dried mushrooms and pancetta, with chick peas and mussels, and even lemon and arugula.

As for the Mafalde that I have, I just can't see trying to twirl them on a fork and bring them to your mouth in anything  remotely resembling a decorous fashion. I will make a baked a pasta dish with them one of these days, and when I do I will share the recipe with you.

Rigatoni

I though I'd post some more pasta images today, starting with the relatively well know Rigatoni. The name means something like "large striped ones", though "ridge" is probably a better, less literal translation of "riga".

Rigatoni make me think of Roman cuisine. There are four pasta dishes that are associated with Rome above all:

1 - Tonnarelli Cacio e Pepe: a deceptively simple dish that requires great technique. The pasta is Rome's version of spaghetti alla chitarra, with a square cross section, and usually shop bought rather than home made. The dish features plenty of black pepper, and the pasta is tossed with Pecorino cheese until  the cheese becomes a creamy sauce.

2 - Bucatini alla Matriciana or all'Amatriciana - there is an ongoing debate about the name -  where the bucatini, a long pasta like a thickish spaghetti with a hole in the middle, is dressed with a sauce of tomato and diced Guanciale (salt cured pig's cheek), and topped with Pecorino cheese.

3 - Spaghettii alla Carbonara: the internationally famous dish of uncertain origin, made with Guanciale, cheese and eggs,  and absolutely no cream.

4 - Rigatoni co' la pajata: a sublime combination of the tube shape pasta with similar size and shape tubes of the intestines of milk fed lamb in a tomato-less sauce. That sounds horrible but everyone loves the dish if  they can overcome their prejudice. I have ordered it for friends without telling them what was in it and had comments like " Mmm, some of the pasta is particularly good, really nice texture." "Lovely creamy sauce, is it ricotta?". I rest my case.

Try it if you can when you are next in Rome, I am sure you'll love it. And if you really really can't, then Rigatoni are great dressed with the sauce from cooking Roman Oxtail stew, for which there is a recipe right here!

Strangozzi alle Vongole

Oh my, I'm a fan, I love Strangozzi!

With plenty of chewy consistency, they are thicker than Spaghetti alla Chitarra, and more rectangular, rather than square. They are wider and flatter than Linguine. Linguine start life round and are mechanically pressed "flat" though if you examine the cross section really they are elliptical. And yes, Strangozzi can definitely take a meat ragù or a Carbonara.

My clams - I much prefer the smaller "lupini" to the larger "vongole veraci" which are invariably farmed and not as tasty - were gorgeous, smelling only of the sea, like a salty sea breeze, and every single one of them opened. But the protagonist of this dish was without a doubt the pasta.

Applause for gli Strangozzi, my new favourite pasta!
   

These are called Strangozzi.

I bought these some time ago but I have not tried them yet.

This is a very ancient pasta from the region of Umbria, and yes, the name refers to strangling: another priest strangling pasta like Strozzapreti and Strangolapreti.

They seem to be similar to Spaghetti alla Chitarra, but traditionally they would be made using just flour and water then hand rolled and cut into narrow ribbons. They also bear some resemblance to the Pici of Southern Tuscany, though those are made using a very different technique.

In Umbria, specifically in Spoleto, they are usually dressed with a fresh tomato sauce made fragrant with garlic and a tiny bit of hot chilli for the famous Strangozzi alla Spoletina or else dressed with the classic garlic, olive oil and chilli dressing. This being Umbria, they are frequently dressed with diced black truffles warmed in olive oil with a single salted anchovy and a little garlic or less frequently tossed in butter and grated Pecorino and topped with shavings of black truffles. In Norcia, the meat capital of central Italy, they serve them with a sausage ragù, which strikes me as perhaps too heavy a dressing. Then there are the vegetable dressings: wild asparagus in spring, Porcini,or Porcini and butternut squash, in the fall.

Apparently Michelle Obama is very fond of Strangozzi alla Carbonara. I'm planning to try them tomorrow with a clam, parsley and garlic sauce, Strangozzi alle Vongole.

Might it be that Strangozzi are as versatile as Spaghetti?.

There's more to Pasta...

.......than spaghetti and penne, a lot more.

I like to use as many different pasta formats as possible.

Each one was first created, then adopted for a specific purpose. It can be tempting to go back to versatile spaghetti and penne: they suit many sauces, and they also come in many sizes and thicknesses. But  I'm for keeping alive as many as possible of the dozens of formats developed over the years.

A few days ago I made one of my favourite winter pasta sauces, a sauce of calamari braised with thinly slivered fresh artichokes. I usually I have it on fresh Tagliatelle, made with soft wheat and egg, but I decided this time to try it on the little 2 inch squares of artisan durum wheat pasta called Pettole Abruzzesi on the packet.  To me Pettole means lovely golden balls of fried dough from Puglia, but that kind of thing - same word, different meaning in another region - is common here in Italy.

These pasta squares are not too thin, like a kind of more neatly shaped Maltagliati.  Like all the larger thicker pasta shapes, they are so tangible and chewy that the pasta dish seems more filling and satisfying than a more lightweight shape. This makes them a great vehicle for robust dressings. They work perfectly for Pasta e Fagioli, or with chunky sauces like chickpeas with rosemary and garlic, or cannellini and clams, or chickpeas with mussels. I would use them too for a hearty sausage ragù and maybe in summer with a chunky lamb and sweet pepper sauce.

My Calamari e Carciofi sauce worked beautifully on the Pettole. It was a completely different dish from the same sauce served on Bolognese egg pasta, and on reflection I think I prefer it!

Ciceri e Tria - Chick Pea Pasta with a crunchy twist

Ciceri e Tria is the best loved pasta of Lecce in Apulia, and of all the Salento area.

It is a simple Cucina Povera dish, a kind of Pasta e Fagioli made with rosemary and garlic scented chick peas. The Ciceri are chick peas and Tria is the word used in Apulia to refer to pasta that is dried or fried. In this case the pasta, which is similar to Tagliatelle in shape, is made with durum wheat (semolina) flour but without eggs. The spark of genius in this dish is that part of the pasta is fried so that you get a lovely crunchiness alongside the smooth textured chick peas and the chewy durum wheat pasta. This dish is normally served a little wet and slightly soupy, but I decided mine would be on the dry side.

Time is one of the ingredients of this dish, as you do need to make your own pasta for this dish to work, but you can use canned chick peas without losing any of the charm.

I made the dish for two of us and used dried chick peas. I started by making an aromatic broth to cook the chick peas, a quarter pound of them that I'd put to soak the previous night. A leek, a bay leaf, a carrot and a celery stick, a couple of cloves of garlic and a sprig of muslin wrapped rosemary went into the pot with the chick peas. I covered them in plenty of water and left them to simmer gently till tender.

I then got on with making the pasta dough. I combined half a pound of stone ground organic Senatore Cappelli flour with half a cup of warm water and worked them together well till the dough was very smooth. I'd bought the single variety flour at the local farmer's market. It is incredibly aromatic and filled the kitchen with heady bakery aromas.

I left the dough to rest in a plastic bag for an hour or so while the chick peas simmered on, then I rolled it out on the pasta machine keeping it quite thick. I cut the noodles on the wider Tagliatelle setting floured them lightly and set them out to dry on a clean kitchen towel. And minced a single garlic clove real fine.

By the time the chick peas were done it was time to cook the pasta. You cook it in with the chick peas so first I removed the aromatic herbs and vegetables, then I topped up the chick pea cooking water to have enough water to cook the pasta in.

But not all of it. I separated out about a third for frying in peanut oil though some people fry more and some less than that. I fried it in small batches and placed each batch on absorbent paper when it was golden. I salted these crispy creatures and nibbled on one, just to be sure it was good. Then I salted the chick pea water generously - chick peas can be very bland if not well seasoned with salt - and tipped the remaining noodles into the broth.

Fresh pasta cooks quickly so after very few minutes I scooped them out with a pasta fork and placed them in a sauté pan with some good olive oil and the minced garlic, over the lowest heat, while I scooped up the chick peas which also went in the sauté pan not too well drained. Plenty of black pepper (hot red chili flakes, but just a touch, are an alternative) and it was ready to serve, garnished with its golden crown of crunchy well salted dried pasta.

We drizzled it with my best evo oil and though it is not the usual practice, we grated over some sharp Pecorino Sardo before tucking in. Yum!