Noodle Love IX: Rice Noodles

This wonderful Thai Chicken and Rice Noodle Salad is another gem from Everyday Food. I've never before cooked with rice noodles, and to be honest I can't even recall if I'd ever eaten them before making this recipe. They're sort of foreign to me, and I generally tend to shy away from foods I'm unfamiliar with. I either think they'll be too hard to make or I won't like them. Well, this recipe proved me wrong on both counts. This rice noodle dish is easy to make and delicious. In fact, making it made me wonder why I don't see these noodles being used more often. They cook up so much faster than any other kind of pasta that I'm surprised I haven't seen them featured in a thirty-minute meal. No matter. I've found them now, and I'll be looking forward to finding more ways to use them.

So, as I said, this recipe is E-Z. The hardest part is chopping the vegetables, and that's not hard at all, just a bit time-consuming (but not too much so). The noodles are a breeze to cook. They're literally ready in two minutes. The chicken cooks up super-fast, too, because it's sliced very thinly. To help get those thin slices, you can pop the chicken in the freezer a bit until it firms up. It's much easier to slice a firm piece of meat than it is a squishy one. Personally, I always have a supply of boneless skinless chicken breasts in the freezer, and I just move some to the fridge the morning I'll be preparing the dish and slice them up before they've fully thawed. Of course, a sharp knife helps, too.

This salad is light and perfect for summer. The noodles don't have much flavor themselves, but they take on the flavor of the sauce, which is basically jazzed up soy sauce and rice vinegar. It's super yummy. Plus, this is the kind of dish that can please just about anyone, because you can choose your own toppings. For example, if you're serving it for a family meal, I recommend giving everyone a dish of noodles and chicken (or pork or beef), and setting the sauce and toppings out buffet-style so everyone can assemble their own salad. I used carrots, cucumber, alfalfa sprouts, radishes, scallions, basil, and peanuts.

Finally, I just think it's pretty. I don't always get excited about vegetables, but there's something about the colors of this dish that just makes me want to dig in. So we've got easy, delicious, and pretty. I'm sold.

Thai Chicken and Rice Noodle Salad
Adapted from Everyday Food

Spicy Asian Dressing
4 thinly sliced scallion whites (reserve tops for garnish)
2 minced garlic cloves
1/2 cup soy sauce
1/2 cup rice vinegar
2 tablespoons light-brown sugar
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1/4 teaspoon red-pepper flakes

1 1/4 pounds boneless, skinless chicken breasts, thinly sliced crosswise
Coarse salt
3 1/2 ounces thin rice noodles
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
2 carrots, sliced into ribbons with a vegetable peeler
1 English cucumber, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced crosswise
1/4 cup fresh basil, torn
Alfalfa sprouts, sliced radishes, chopped peanuts, fresh mint leaves, red-pepper flakes, and sliced scallion greens, for garnish (optional)

Combine all dressing ingredients in a medium bowl and mix until sugar has dissolved. Transfer half of dressing to a resealable plastic bag, add chicken, and marinate at room temperature for 30 minutes (or refrigerate up to overnight). Reserve remaining dressing for serving.

In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook noodles until tender, about 2 minutes (times may vary depending on the thickness of your noodles—check package instructions). Drain, and rinse under cold water to stop the cooking. Transfer to a platter.

In a large skillet, heat oil over medium-high. Working in batches, cook chicken (do not crowd skillet) until cooked through and nicely browned, about 2 minutes; transfer to platter on top of noodles.

Top with carrots, cucumber, and basil. Drizzle with reserved dressing, and sprinkle with garnishes, if desired.

Noodle Love VIII: Lasagna

Although now I, happily, spend much of my time cooking for a man, I did, in my more youthful and culinarily inexperienced years, enjoy having a man cook for me. My junior year in college, I lived in a single-person dorm that was the size of a walk-in closet, and, with no kitchen of my own, my meals usually consisted of ice-cream scoop-mounded piles of the cafeteria's mystery meat du jour. But sometimes I'd pack a bag and leave campus for a weekend and be served food—delicious food—that was made just for me by a man who enjoyed indulging my every request. There were dishes I asked for over and over again, pepperoni bread and crab-stuffed chicken breast being the most frequent two. But sometimes he'd plan the meals and I'd sit at the kitchen table, greedily sipping glass after glass of wine, waiting impatiently for whatever was being prepared for me.

He liked to use onions, an ingredient which, at the time, I insisted I didn't care for. He used so many that the smell would permeate the air of his small apartment and I'd rub my watering eyes and complain that I didn't know why he had to use so many onions. He'd refill my glass and chop another onion.

The particular meal I'm thinking of now was lasagna. The man may have turned out to be a dud, but the lasagna was not. It was delicious, and I still remember it as the best lasagna I've ever had. I don't know how he made it—at the time I was interested in eating, not cooking—but, besides the onions, I remember that the sauce was heavy on red wine. When the weekend was over, I returned to my dorm, lasagna-filled Tupperware in tow, and stored the leftovers in my mini-fridge. In the following days I ate the leftovers cold from the fridge for breakfast—then, breakfast was around 11:00 am—and it was as good cold as it had been warm.

These days, I'm with a man who is wonderful but whose overly picky tastes threaten to cramp my budding culinary repertoire. He's not impressed in the least with Italian food, he insists that all pasta is the same, and he hates tomatoes and ricotta cheese. What is a lasagna-loving girl to do?

Well, I make it anyway, that's what I do. But only rarely, and only when I find a recipe that seems especially tasty. I thought maybe Martha Stewart’s Lasagna Primavera would get by Adam. There are no tomatoes in it, after all, and it’s filled with veggies, so I thought I could pass it off as health food. But he didn't like the ricotta or the frozen spinach, which is the latest addition to his growing list of dislikes. He ate one piece of the lasagna, and only after he'd doused it in Red Hot.

I hope that, in telling you this, I'm not doing this lasagna a disservice. Adam is strange and peculiar and you can't go by his tastes. But you can certainly trust me, and I'm telling you that this lasagna is wonderful. It's so good that I had to spend the next week finishing the leftovers myself, and I didn't mind a bit.

If I had to make one complaint, though, I'd say that I wish the noodles themselves had stayed a bit firmer. The recipe calls for the lasagna to be cooked for 65 minutes--is it possible for noodles not to turn soft after that long? I don't know. I used oven-ready noodles, as the recipe advised, but, if I ever dare to make lasagna again, I might try using regular noodles, soaked very briefly in hot water, and see how that works out.

I had planned to serve the lasagna with garlic knots, but making the lasagna was not a speedy process, and I didn’t have it in me to bake anything else. I found, though, that the lasagna goes really well served with a very simple side of vine-ripened, lightly salted tomatoes. Enjoy!

Vegetable Lasagna
Adapted from Freeze-Ahead Lasagna Primavera

1/4 cup olive oil, plus more for foil
1 medium onion, diced
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
6 cups whole milk
2 packages (10 ounces each) frozen chopped spinach, thawed and squeezed dry*
1 package (10 ounces) frozen peas
1 cup finely shredded broccoli florets**
1/2 pound carrots (4 to 5), halved lengthwise and thinly sliced
Coarse salt and ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg***
1 container (15 ounces) part-skim ricotta (about 2 cups)
1 large egg
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
1 package (9 ounces) no-boil lasagna noodles (12 noodles)
1 pound part-skim mozzarella, shredded
1 cup grated Parmesan

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. In a large saucepan, heat oil over medium heat; add onion and garlic and cook until onion begins to soften, about 5 minutes. Add flour and cook, stirring constantly, 2 to 3 minutes (do not let flour mixture darken); whisk in milk. Bring to a boil, whisking frequently; reduce to a simmer, and cook, whisking occasionally, until thickened, 3 to 5 minutes. Add spinach, peas, broccoli, and carrots; season with salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Set sauce aside.

In a medium bowl, combine ricotta, egg, parsley, 1 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper.

In the bottom of a 9-by-13-inch baking dish, spread a thin layer of vegetable sauce. Layer 3 noodles, half the remaining vegetable sauce, another 3 noodles, half the ricotta mixture, half the mozzarella, and half the Parmesan; repeat.

Cover dish with lightly oiled aluminum foil, and place on a large rimmed baking sheet. Bake 45 minutes, uncover, and bake until bubbling and browned, about 20 minutes more. Let cool 10 to 15 minutes before serving.

* I used my salad spinner to get the water out of the frozen spinach. It takes a while, but remove as much liquid as you can, or else your sauce will be watery.
** I added the broccoli because I had some to use up, but it’s optional. If you choose to add it, just shred it as finely as you can with a sharp knife until it looks like it does in the picture above.
*** The nutmeg is optional, too, but I really like the flavor. Nutmeg is often paired with both cream sauces and dark greens.

Noodle Love VII: Whole Wheat Spaghetti

It’s not often that I make a pasta dish that contains neither cream nor cheese, but I’m trying to get better. I recently found an Ellie Krieger recipe for Aromatic Noodles with Lime-Peanut Sauce, and, in the interest of trying to eat better, I decided to give it a try.

This recipe had two strikes against it from the start: 1) I’m not the hugest peanut fan and 2) I have a personal bias against anything “whole wheat,” and the recipe called for whole wheat spaghetti. I didn’t always have this bias, but we recently tried the new Papa John’s whole wheat pizza crust, and I was not a fan. Adam liked it though, so maybe it’s just me.

Anyway, the point is that I wasn’t sure how this recipe would turn out. But you know what? It was delicious! I was actually surprised how much I liked it. I really liked the flavor of both the noodles and the sauce. And it’s so healthy! Whole wheat pasta, lots of veggies, and a tasty peanut-butter-based sauce that I’m sure is better for me than the cream-based sauces I usually make.

Did I mention that Adam has been nagging me to lay off the heavy cream? Yeah, he has. It’s going to be rough, but this pasta dish is a good start.

I’m submitting this dish to next week’s Presto Pasta Nights, which will be hosted by Hillary of Chew on That. Be sure to stop by for the roundup on June 27, and visit Ruth of Once Upon a Feast for past roundups.

Aromatic Noodles with Lime-Peanut Sauce
From Ellie Krieger

3/4 pound whole-wheat spaghetti
2 cups (about 9 ounces) broccoli florets
2 cups (about 6 ounces) snow peas, trimmed
2 cups (about 6 ounces) sugar snap peas, trimmed
1/2 cup natural creamy peanut butter
1/4 cup low-sodium soy sauce
1/4 cup water
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 scallion, cut into pieces
3/4 inch fresh ginger, finely grated
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1/2 cup shelled unsalted peanuts

Cook the pasta in a large pot of water according to the directions on the package. Drain and rinse with cold water. While the pasta is cooking, put the broccoli in a steamer basket over a large pot of boiling water and steam it for 3 minutes. Add the snow peas and sugar snap peas and steam for 2 minutes more.

Toast the peanuts in a dry pan over a medium heat until they become fragrant, about 3 minutes. Set them aside to cool. Make the sauce by pureeing the peanut butter, soy sauce, water, vinegar, lime juice, scallion, ginger, sugar, and red pepper flakes in a food processor or blender until smooth.

Right before serving, toss the pasta with 3/4 cup of the peanut sauce. Divide into 6 serving bowls and top each serving with the vegetables. Drizzle the remaining sauce over the vegetables. Coarsely chop the peanuts, sprinkle them on top, and serve.

Noodle Love VI: Rotini

When I first saw Rachael Ray’s cauliflower mac-n-cheese, I had two thoughts. The first one was, Yum-o! (I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist that.) The second one was, This reminds me a lot of Ina Garten’s cauliflower gratin, which I’ve made previously and really liked.

There are some fundamental differences between the two dishes. For one, the seasonings are different. Rachael's dish is seasoned with cayenne, paprika, and Dijon, whereas Ina’s dish features nutmeg. Rachael uses smoked Gouda, and Ina uses Gruyère. There’s also, obviously, the omission of noodles in Ina’s cauliflower gratin. Rachael’s recipe calls for cavatappi, but my store, much to my disappointment, has a pretty limited pasta selection and no cavatappi. I didn’t think elbows would work that well. I’d have to cut the cauliflower up pretty small to get it to be similar in size to the pasta, and I wanted to leave the cauliflower in larger chunks, like it is in Ina’s gratin.

What I finally settled on was the following: I went with Rachael’s seasonings (cayenne, paprika, Dijon) but used Ina’s cheese (Gruyère). I chose rotini for my noodles, because I thought they’d be about the right size, and their ruffly edges sort of remind me of the bumpy surface of the cauliflower. To finish the dish, I topped it with a fresh breadcrumb crust, just like in Ina’s recipe.

The end result was really good! I already want to make this again and experiment with the ingredients. I think a combination of cheddar and Gruyère might be good, and I’m also thinking I might try using nutmeg next time. Has anyone ever used nutmeg in a pasta dish before? I don’t think I have, and I’m intrigued by the idea.

Cauliflower Mac-n-Cheese
adapted from Mac-n-Smoked Gouda with Cauliflower
3 servings

Coarse salt
1/2 pound rotini
1 small head cauliflower, cut into florets
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, divided
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon paprika
2 cups whole milk
2 cups shredded Gruyère
1/2 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Freshly ground black pepper
4 slices white bread

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add salt to season the cooking water, then add the pasta. Return to boil and cook for 3 minutes, then add the cauliflower and cook for 3 minutes more or until pasta is cooked to barely al dente and the florets are just tender. Drain well and return to the pot.

While the pasta cooks, heat a medium sauce pot over medium-low heat. Add 2 tablespoons butter and heat until it melts. Add the onions and cook for 5 minutes to sweat them out and turn the juices sweet. Raise the heat to medium, then whisk in the flour, cayenne, and paprika. Whisk together until the roux bubbles up, then cook for 1 minute more. Add the milk and, whisking frequently, bring the sauce to a quick boil. Once it bubbles, drop the heat back to a simmer and cook until the sauce thickens, a couple minutes more.

Add the cheese to the thickened sauce and stir to melt it, a minute or so. Stir in the mustard and season the sauce with salt and pepper. Combine the sauce with the pasta and cauliflower and then transfer to a greased shallow baking dish.

Remove crusts from bread and pulse bread to fine crumbs in food processor. Melt the remaining two tablespoons of butter and toss with breadcrumbs to distribute evenly. Scatter breadcrumb topping evenly over cauliflower mac-n-cheese, then bake in oven for about 20 minutes or until edges are bubbly and topping is golden brown.

Noodle Love V: Spaghetti Rigati

Adam has cooked for me a few times. There was soup once when I was sick. There were also some sandwiches here and there which, even though that’s not technically “cooking,” I will count because, somehow, a sandwich always tastes better when somebody else makes it for you.

The first time, it was spaghetti. Things started out well enough. Boil some water, add some noodles. Hard to go wrong. But it went downhill after that. He got a jar of spaghetti sauce, unscrewed the lid, and poured the sauce, straight from the jar, onto my plate. He then dropped some noodles on top of the sauce and, to top things off, added some chickpeas. The chickpeas, like the sauce, were unwarmed, and it’s possible they came straight from the can. I’ve worked hard to forget some of the gorier details, so it’s hard now to say for sure.

Because of this incident, I always thought of spaghetti and chickpeas as a sort of ridiculous combination. I ignored Adam’s future requests to add chickpeas to my pasta dishes. But eventually I saw Rachael Ray make Spaghetti alla Ceci, and I reconsidered the issue. Not only did Rachael warm the chickpeas, but she made them a fully incorporated part of the sauce. This was something I could handle. I made the dish.

I now rescind any earlier contempt I showed toward spaghetti and chickpeas. I was wrong. When it’s done right, it’s fabulous. A little wine, some garlic, a pinch or two of red pepper flakes—delicious! I’m not usually too big a fan of spaghetti and tomato sauce because I think it can be boring, but this dish definitely is not. It’s been added to my regular rotation, which isn’t something that happens very often.

Spaghetti alla Ceci
Adapted from Rachael Ray’s Spaghetti all Ceci
serves 2

1/2 pound spaghetti*
Salt and pepper
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 cup dry white wine (I used Pino Grigio)
1 (15-ounce) can crushed tomatoes or tomato sauce
2 tablespoons chopped parlsey
Grated parmesan, for serving

Cook spaghetti to al dente in salted boiling water.

Meanwhile, heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add extra-virgin olive oil and onion and sauté until onions begin to soften; add crushed red pepper flakes and garlic. Place chickpeas in food processor and pulse them to a fine chop. Add chickpeas to pan and season them with thyme, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Sauté for 3 to 4 minutes. Add wine and cook for one minute, then stir in tomatoes and adjust seasoning. Drain pasta and toss with sauce. Top with parsley and grated cheese.

*I really like spaghetti rigati for this dish. The chickpeas make the sauce thick and a bit chunky, and those ridges really help hold the extra weight.

Noodle Love IV: Penne

Everyone is excited about spring, and I can’t join in. Not yet. I’m not ready for spring. I still have too many winter dishes to make. You see, every time I find a recipe I want to try (which is often), I add it to the queue. With my schedule being what it is, I’m not able to do the cooking as quickly as I’m able to do the finding, and I still have a list of soups, stews, and baked pastas I’m not ready to give up on.

It’s supposed to be 65 degrees here in Maryland today. Soon it’ll reach 70—warm enough to open the windows but not to turn on the air conditioner—and I will insist on turning on the oven to make chicken and biscuits, and our small apartment will become very hot, and I will get very cranky, and I already feel bad for Adam because I see where this is going. But I must make the recipes! I can’t wait another year. And meanwhile I’m collecting spring recipes, and pretty soon I’ll have too many of those, and so the cycle will continue.

This is why I can’t get excited about spring. But the good news is that this dish, Baked Penne with Roasted Vegetables, can become a spring dish.

As it is, I’d say it’s mostly suited to late fall/early winter. Turning on the oven to roast vegetables doesn’t initially scream “Spring!” to me. But I think that it can if you just play with the ingredients a bit. You could swap out the zucchini and peppers for asparagus and artichokes and use diced tomatoes instead of tomato sauce. Or even use roasted cherry tomatoes. Personally, I can’t stop wondering how this would taste with my favorite roasted vegetable of all time—Brussels sprouts. Brussels sprouts and pasta sounds sort of strange, but I’ll never know for sure unless I try it. So I’m adding that to the queue, as well.

Also, I want to point out that this dish is easier than it might seem. Just cook the pasta while the vegetables are in the oven, and when they’re both done, toss them together in a big bowl (or your pasta pot) with the sauce and cheese. Bake and you’re done.

Baked Penne with Roasted Vegetables
Adapted from Giada’s Penne with Roasted Vegetables

1 yellow and 1 orange bell pepper, cored and cut into 1-inch wide strips
1 zucchini, quartered lengthwise and cut into 1-inch cubes
1 yellow onion, peeled and sliced into 1-inch strips
5 garlic cloves, lightly smashed
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
salt and pepper
1/2 tablespoon dried Italian herb mix
1/2 pound penne pasta
2 cups marinara sauce
3/4 cup frozen peas, thawed
1/2 cup grated fontina cheese
1/4 cup grated mozzarella cheese
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese, plus more for topping
1 tablespoon butter, cut into small pieces
2 tablespoons chopped parsley

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.

On a baking sheet, toss the peppers, zucchini, garlic, and onions with olive oil, 1/2 teaspoon salt, 1/4 teaspoon pepper, and dried herbs. Roast until tender, about 15 to 20 minutes. When they’re done, lower oven temperature to 400 degrees.

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the pasta and cook for about 5 to 6 minutes, until al dente. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup of the pasta water.

In a large bowl, toss the drained pasta with the roasted vegetables, marinara sauce, cheeses, peas, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Gently mix until all the pasta is coated with the sauce and the ingredients are combined. If your mixture seems a bit too thick, add some of the reserved pasta water until you reach the desired consistency. Remember that the pasta will continue to cook in the oven and absorb some of the sauce/liquid.

Pour the pasta into a greased baking dish. Top with extra Parmesan cheese and butter pieces. Bake until top is golden and cheese melts, about 20 minutes. Top with parsley.

I’m thinking I’ll submit this to Presto Pasta Nights, which I’ve never done before but sounds fun. Who can ever have enough pasta recipes? Not me.

Noodle Love III: Ziti

In my mind, there are only two types of prepared ziti: baked and unbaked. Baked, of course, is far superior, so I suppose I could actually say that, for me, there is baked ziti and baked ziti only. After that, it doesn’t much matter.

My all-time favorite ziti is from Sbarro. It’s baked in a tomato sauce that’s yuummied-up with ricotta and Romano cheeses, and I try to recreate it often at home. But pastas so often have red sauces that I make a conscious effort to prepare non-red-sauced pasta when possible, such as this Baked Ziti with Chicken, Veggies, and Herbs.

This pasta is packed with goodies: basil, thyme, parsley, broccoli, and artichoke hearts. It’s baked in a creamy sauce that has a touch of Parmesan cheese, and—here’s my favorite part—it’s topped with a crunchy breadcrumb crust. Behold:

I love that crust! It makes the dish for me. And you must use fresh breadcrumbs! I considered myself to have reached a new culinary plateau when I discovered the advantages of topping dishes with fresh rather than dried breadcrumbs. The taste is so much better, and you end up with a crunchy golden topping rather than, well, a layer of dried breadcrumbs. Panko might work well as a topping too, but since I always have a few slices of bread that I need to use up, I always use fresh. About three slices of white bread, crusts removed and run through the food processor, will get you what you need for this dish.

This dish makes 4-6 servings, depending on how ravenous the appetites.

Baked Ziti with Chicken, Veggies, and Herbs

Olive oil
Salt and pepper
1/2 pound ziti
1 chicken breast, split lengthwise, or 2 breast halves
1 onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
3 tablespoons flour
2 cups heavy cream, half-and-half, or whole milk
1 cup chicken stock
1/2 cup grated Parmesan, divided
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme leaves
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
1 12-oz. package frozen broccoli, thawed
1 14-oz. can artichoke hearts in water, halved, or 1 box frozen, thawed
1 cup fresh bread crumbs
1 tablespoon chopped fresh parsley
2 tablespoons melted butter

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Cook pasta until just al dente in boiling salted water, about 9 minutes. Drain and set aside.

Sprinkle both sides of chicken with salt and pepper. Drizzle a thin coating of olive oil in a large pan and sauté chicken until just cooked through, about 4-5 minutes per side, depending on their thickness. Remove from pan and set aside.

If needed, add extra olive oil to skillet so that you have about 3 tablespoons. Sauté onion until translucent. Add garlic and cook a minute more. Add flour and, stirring constantly, cook for one minute. Whisk in cream and stock and, over medium heat, stir frequently until sauce begins to bubble and thicken. Stir in 1/4 cup of Parmesan, thyme, basil, 1 teaspoon of salt, and 1/2 a teaspoon of pepper.

Slice chicken into pieces that approximate the size of the ziti. Add to pan, along with any drippings and the broccoli and artichoke hearts. Combine, then stir in reserved ziti. Pour into a greased casserole dish.

In a small bowl, combine bread crumbs, remaining 1/4 cup of Parmesan, parsley, and melted butter. Scatter evenly over pasta.

Bake in preheated oven for 20-30 minutes, or until edges are bubbling and topping is golden brown.

Noodle Love II: Bucatini

I’ve had a package of bucatini sitting in my pantry for a couple months now. I haven’t known what to do with it. Bucatini recipes aren’t exactly abundant, I’ve found. So I decided that what I needed was just a special sauce, because this is a special noodle. I bought a pound of it at an Italian specialty shop, and I think it was $13 or something crazy like that. It tasted—I don’t know—my inability with words in painfully obvious here, but I just can’t describe it except to say that it had a quality that was distinctly different from the pasta I normally buy at the grocery store. It was heartier, somehow. The noodles were sturdy yet tender. It was delicious, and, although I often feel that pasta plays second fiddle to its sauce, the bucatini was the star of the show here.

Which is not to say that the sauce wasn’t also delicious. It was, and I’ll definitely make it again. I made Emeril’s oreganata tomato sauce, which had originally been intended for rigatoni, which I’m definitely going to try in the future. It’s an incredibly simple sauce made with tomatoes, cream, and fresh basil and oregano. This was my first time working with fresh oregano, and I really like it. It has adorable fuzzy little leaves that remind me of a miniature African violet. That’s them nestled on top of the butter below—aren’t they cute?

I often serve garlic bread with pasta, but when I have a lot of fresh herbs around that are beginning to move past their prime, my favorite way to use them up is to make fresh herb butter. Don’t ever be afraid of buying a bundle of fresh herbs because you only need a couple tablespoons and you don’t know what to do with the rest. Herb butter is incredibly easy, adaptable, and delicious. I served about . . . oh . . . maybe 10 slices of Italian bread last night, and for that I used 4 tablespoons of unsalted butter and a tablespoon of olive oil. Let the butter come to room temperature, then add a small handful of whatever fresh herbs you have on hand, finely chopped. Drizzle in a bit of olive oil, add a small pinch of salt and a smaller pinch of pepper, and combine thoroughly. It’s delicious on warm bread. I used a few thyme sprigs, a couple of basil leaves, a bit of oregano, a pinch of rosemary, and some parsley. But I usually don’t have that much variety, and I’ve made it with just parsley and thyme or parsley and basil and it’s always delicious.

Below is the recipe for the pasta oreganta. This sauce would work with any noodle, I think, but it was especially great with the bucatini. Bucatini is a tad difficult to eat; it’s long, so you want to twirl it around your fork, but it plumps up a lot when it cooks and is really too round and thick to fit around the tines. In those situations you don’t want too much sauce, or it’ll splatter everywhere as you’re trying to slurp up the noodles. This recipe makes just enough sauce to put a thin, even, delicious coating on a pound of bucatini.

Bucatini Oreganata
adapted from Rigatoni Oreganata

2 tablespoons kosher salt
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 pound bucatini
1 small onion, diced onion
4 cloves garlic, chopped
2 tablespoons roughly chopped fresh oregano leaves
2 tablespoons roughly chopped fresh basil leaves
1 (14 1/2-ounce) can diced tomatoes
1 cup tomato sauce
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/4 cup reserved pasta cooking water
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
2 tablespoons chopped parsley leaves
1/2 cup grated Parmesan

Set a large stockpot filled with water over high heat and bring to a boil. Season the water with the kosher salt and add the bucatini. While the pasta cooks, set a 14-inch sauté pan over medium-high heat and add the olive oil. Once the oil is hot, add the onions and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until soft and slightly caramelized, 3 to 4 minutes. Add the oregano and basil. Add the diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, and tomato paste and stir well to combine. Continue to cook the sauce until it is slightly reduced, about 4 to 5 minutes. Add the heavy cream to the pan. By this time the pasta should be almost al dente. Drain the pasta and reserve 1/4 cup of the cooking water. Add the pasta and the reserved cooking water to the sauce in the pan and season with the salt and pepper. Continue to cook, tossing the pasta, until it is well coated with the sauce. Stir in the parsley and serve with Parmesan.

Noodle Love: Rotelle

I love noodles. I recently bought an unusual selection of them and have assigned myself the challenge of finding the perfect dish to best complement each noodle’s shape. The easiest one, by far, is rotelle, or “wagon wheels.” But I still have some bucatini, capricci, and spugnole waiting for me in the pantry. I’m open to suggestions.

Anyway, to me, rotelle just screams “chili mac.” So that’s what I made. I only used 1/2 a pound, so I’m looking forward to finding a way to use the second half of the box, but I doubt I’ll top chili mac. I mean, come on—what better way is there to use this noodle?

The recipe’s pretty simple. In fact, there is no recipe. I just thought about what I’d like to have and I added it to the mix. You could make this lots of different ways, but here’s what I did.

Chili Mac

1/2 lb. rotelle
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 lb. ground turkey
1 large yellow onion, chopped
1 jalapeno, ribs and seeds removed, minced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2 tablespoons chili powder
1/2 tablespoon cumin
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1/2 cup black beans
1/2 cup frozen corn
1 cup salsa
1 cup shredded Monterey jack cheese
1 cup shredded sharp white cheddar cheese, plus extra for sprinkling on top
Sliced scallions, sour cream, and hot sauce, for serving

Cook pasta in a large pot of boiling salted water for 6 to 7 minutes or until al dente. Drain and set aside.

Heat oil in a deep pan over medium-high heat. Add turkey, onions, jalapeño, and garlic. Break up turkey with a wooden spoon and stir frequently. When turkey is cooked through, add chili powder, cumin, salt, and pepper. Stir in beans, corn, and salsa. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook until mixture is heated through.

Add Monterey and cheddar cheeses. Stir until melted. Add cooked pasta to turkey mixture and, very gently, stir to combine. Taste, adjust seasoning as needed, and serve with extra cheese and scallions.