Just Breathe

The worst thing was the Halloween candy.

 Two weeks after two back-to-back storms the East coast is still reeling and dealing with the aftermath. I am thankful that we did not experience any damage or injury, and compared to what others are still suffering, a little over a week without power was just a minor inconvenience.

Through it all I cooked. It never occurred to me not to cook dinner. One dark and cold night as I stood at the cook top sauteeing veal chops in Marsala wine, perhaps sensing an oncoming melt-down, John stood holding the flashlight. Seeing the absurdity of the situation I said, "What in the world am I doing?" "What you always do," he said. Cooking. As usual."

Chris kept in touch from the West coast with texts. It still amazes me that his generation actually thinks that texting is the same as talking. "How's it going? Btw what have you been eating?" "I have been cooking. In the dark. As usual." "OK cool."

So when all is said and done, as Denise reminded me, cooking and our kitchens do comfort us. So it was fitting to make this hearty sausage and bean dish for dinner the other night.

I cut one pound of hot sausages into pieces and sauteed them in a heavy Dutch oven. When they were brown, I added a crushed garlic clove, some fresh rosemary, a little salt and pepper and a large can of cannellini beans, drained.  Then came a splash or two of red wine letting it cook down for about 30 seconds. Next I added about one cup of canned tomatoes, crushing them as I put them in. I then cooked the sausage mixture with the lid askew for about 30 minutes. Perfect.

Oh, the Halloween candy? The worst thing was that I ate it all!

Pasta Puttanesca

In their inimitable manner, our friends, T and J, texted from the road yesterday.

"What's for dinner?"

"Where are you?"

"We'll be home in two hours."

"Good.  What do you want for dinner?"

"Do you have pasta?"

"Of course.  See you at six."

I did a quick survey of the pantry and the refrigerator and determined  that pasta puttanesca would be perfect.

Out of all the stories of the origins of this spicy tomato sauce,  I like this legend the best. It is said that puttanesca sauce was originated in Naples by the ladies of the evening.  The ingredients were easy to keep on hand and very quick to cook. Thus, the ladies were able to get some sustenance between customers. Although the prostitutes probably did not invent this sauce, they sure made it popular.

This sauce is one of my favorites, and it cooks in the time it takes for the water for the pasta comes to a boil. While spaghetti seems to be the preferred pasta here, I had none so I used penne.  Nothing was lost in the translation.

After filming the bottom of a saucepan with olive oil, I dropped in 6 diced anchovy fillets.  Don't worry--the anchovies magically melt into the oil giving the sauce a lovely a depth of flavor. Then I pressed about 4 cloves of garlic into the oil and turned the heat to medium. When the anchovies began to melt and the garlic softened, I added a sprinkling of red pepper flakes, a pinch of salt and one and a half boxes of Pomi chopped tomatoes.  Actually, I gave the tomatoes a rough puree with my immersion blender before adding them to the pot.  After bringing the tomatoes to a simmer, I added about a half a cup of chopped Kalamata olives, 2 tablespoons capers and a handful of chopped parsley and cooked it for about 10 minutes.

After draining 1 pound of penne, I tossed most of the sauce with the pasta and sprinkled on some more chopped parsley.

I served additional sauce at the table for those who wanted more along with some grated Pecorino Romano cheese.

Happy Valentine's Day!