Flavia's Flavors

Sugo all'amatriciana

My maternal grandmother ("Nonna") Liliana was from Rome.  After WWII, she and my grandfather ("Nonno") Diego came to the United States, where they got married and settled in Washington, DC.  Although they lived the majority of their lives in the United States, my grandparents never lost sight of their Italian heritage and traditions.  They learned to speak English, but Italian was spoken in their home; they read The Washington Post every day, but they also followed current events in Italy; they shopped in American supermarkets, but the food that came out of their kitchen was Italian through and through.  

And Nonna was a really good home cook.   The no-need-for-cookbooks kind of home cook; she had her recipes memorized.  But more than that, she understood cooking: which ingredients taste right together, how to season and taste as you cook to make the necessary adjustments for the right balance of flavor; how to take fresh ingredients and make their inherent flavors and textures shine by selecting them seasonally and preparing them simply.  And she made just about everything from scratch: soups, desserts, vegetable side dishes, and of course, pasta sauce.  Her sugo all'amatriciana has always been one of my favorites.

And this sauce has an interesting history.  Although Amatriciana sauce is associated with being a Roman specialty, it's city of origin is the town of Amatrice, located in northern Lazio.  It gained wide popularity during the 19th and 20th centuries when emigrants from an impoverished Amatrice began moving into Rome.  The recipe became so popular, that it has remained a classic of Roman cuisine ever since.  Over the years, variations of the recipe emerged due to the availability of certain ingredients.  Traditionally, garlic is sautéed in olive oil before adding guanciale (salted pork jowl) as the flavor base for the sauce.  But a variation using onion and pancetta is also common, much to the chagrin of the people of Amatrice, who are protective of the original preparation.  Two ingredients that have not been substituted over the years, though, are pecorino cheese and chili pepper. 

My family has always made amatriciana sauce with onion and guanciale--so I guess that means according to the people of Amatrice, we've only been making it half correctly...or half incorrectly?  I have never been the biggest fan of guanciale, at least not the guanciale that I've found in American supermarkets.  It's too fatty and too salty for my taste, so I have always made my amatriciana sauce with pancetta.  I find it to be meatier, sweeter and much more flavorful than guanciale.  And I've been known to ladle this delectable sauce over penne {gasp!} instead of the traditional bucatini.  But despite these slight variations of ingredients, one thing about this recipe remains a constant: it's Italian through and through.

Sugo all'amatriciana

Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

1 T. unsalted butter

2 T. extra-virgin olive oil

1 cup diced yellow onion

 1 ¼-inch thick slice of pancetta, diced

½ tsp. crushed red pepper flakes

1  28-oz. can crushed tomatoes

½ tsp. kosher salt plus more to add to pasta water

1 lb. bucatini, spaghetti or penne

2 T. grated Pecorino Romano

In a sauce pot over medium heat, melt the butter into the olive oil and add the onion.  Sauté the onion until it becomes tender and pale gold in color, then add the pancetta.  Cook for about 1 minute, stirring frequently.  Adjust the heat accordingly to make sure the ingredients do not burn.  Add the crushed red pepper flakes, tomatoes and salt and stir well to combine.  Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook partially covered for about 30 minutes, stirring periodically.  Do not allow the sauce to boil too vigorously; it should bubble steadily but gently, so adjust the heat accordingly.  Once the sauce is close to being finished, taste it and correct for salt and additional crushed red pepper if necessary.

Cook pasta according to package directions (don't forget to salt the water), drain and return the pasta to the pot.  Pour in a few ladles of the sauce and toss thoroughly so that the pasta is coated with the sauce.  Add the Pecorino Romano and toss gently again.  Serve hot.

334 Days to Go

Well, I did it.  A few posts ago I wrote about how I would be participating in Project 365, and here I am, with 31 photos taken for every day in January.  Initially, I thought it would be hard, tedious even.  I silently wondered if I was being over-ambitious.  But you know what?  It's a lot of fun!  Looking at my photo collection on a daily basis and watching it grow incrementally keeps me constantly motivated.  And since one of my goals this year (and beyond) is to improve my photography skills, participating in this project is exactly what I need to stretch and train my creative muscle; to stop a few times each day and take notice where I would normally walk past.  Even on my busiest day, I'm forced to slow down and remember to document a sliver of my day to add to my collection.  As I mentioned in this post, I'm aiming to base the bulk of my photos on food since that is the area I want to improve on considerably.  But I know the next eleven months will bring a wide variety of subjects to my camera lens, and I'm looking forward to documenting them.  In the meantime, here's a sampling of January's photos:

Ditalini pasta

Mini chocolate chips

Buttered and floured tube pan

Sunlit chair

Orange Chocolate Chunk Cake

My Dutch.  Just look at that face.

As February begins, I'm noticing the gradual increase in daylight, which translates into more! picture-taking hours!  You can view my full Flickr Photostream for January here.

Prosciutto, Mozzarella and Roasted Vegetable Panino

I've never been one for eating the same thing for lunch day in, day out.  Sure, there have been times where I've eaten the same thing for a stretch of a few weeks, but I always end up switching to something else once my taste buds have grown bored.  I don't, however, grow tired of eating sandwiches.  I love sandwiches.  Especially, panini. 

I've had some phenomenal panini during my summers spent in Italy as a kid.  While visiting my paternal grandparents in the north-eastern region of the Veneto, we would go to the ancient and beautiful city of Treviso, where we would take a break from shopping to eat a porchetta panino in a small, local, hole-in-the-wall bar.  The crusty roll would be freshly baked from a local bakery and the porchetta was roasted to perfection and sprinkled generously with crunchy, coarse salt--no other condiments necessary.  I'd chase my panino with an orange Fanta, while the adults enjoyed a crisp Prosecco.

 

When we'd visit my maternal grandparent's family in Rome, I loved to look in the windows of local bars, where I would see their pristine display cases filled with trays of tramezzini, delicate, un-toasted sandwiches with two to three simple, but flavorful components: mozzarella and basil, chicken salad, egg salad, and other savory combinations.  These always made a great snack around mid-morning, when we'd be walking around sight-seeing and start getting a hankering for something to eat that would tide us over until the Big Lunch that awaited us back at a relative's apartment.  At my great-aunt Franca's apartment, we would almost always have a dinner or two where we would eat "toast", a toasted sandwich made with thin, sliced white bread, prosciutto cotto (cooked ham) and a slice of white Kraft singles.  She would make several at a time in her small countertop toaster and serve them with a simply dressed green salad.  "Toast" was always one of my favorite dinners.

Today for lunch, I still wanted to eat a sandwich, but I felt like changing things up a bit from my usual.  I don't give my panini press nearly enough countertop time as it deserves, and I got started on remedying that issue right away by making this panino.  On Sunday, I decided to roast some red peppers, a couple of zucchini and a red onion, so I could have them at the ready.  I added a couple of slices of tissue-thin prosciutto for some salty-sweet flavor, a leaf of tender, slightly bitter radicchio for crunch and a couple of thin slivers of fresh mozzarella to melt and help seal the panino.  For the bread, I chose a multi-grain demi baguette, which was, sadly, not the tastiest and it was a little too multi-grain for my taste.  Next time, I'll use the more traditional ciabatta bread.  It was still a very tasty sandwich, and my panini press toasted and pressed my panino to perfection.  I'm glad I have more vegetables in the fridge because I think I've found something that I'll be eating day in, day out for the next few weeks.

Prosciutto, Mozzarella and Roasted Vegetable Panino

2 medium red peppers

2 small zucchini

1 red onion

½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. ground black pepper

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

Fresh baguette, plain focaccia, or ciabatta bread

Fresh mozzarella

2-3 slices Prosciutto di Parma, sliced paper-thin

Arugula or Radicchio leaves (optional)

For the red peppers:  Preheat the broiler and rinse the red peppers with cold water.  Put the peppers (stem still attached) on a foil-lined baking sheet and place them under the broiler until the skin begins to blister and char.  Using a pair of tongs, turn them every 5-10 minutes to char every side of the peppers (your kitchen will smell like something is burning, but don't be alarmed.  Just keep an eye on the peppers while they are broiling).  When they have been completely charred, remove the peppers to a bowl and cover the bowl immediately and tightly with foil.  This will allow the heat and steam to separate the charred skin from the flesh, making the peppers easier to peel.  When the peppers are cool enough to handle, remove and discard the stem, seeds and skin, and place the flesh of the peppers in a container, saving any juices that drip out from the peppers (that's flavor!).  You can cut the peppers into thin strips or chunks, or just leave them in big pieces.  You can also dress the peppers with salt, pepper and olive oil for added flavor.  Keep refrigerated for up to 3-4 days.  

For the zucchini and onion:  Preheat the oven to 450°.  Wash the zucchini, trim the ends and cut into long slices, about ¼-inch in thickness.  Place in a large bowl.  Peel the onion, trim the ends and slice into ½-inch thick rounds.  Place in the bowl with the zucchini.  Sprinkle the zucchini and onion with the salt and pepper and drizzle on the olive oil.  Using a pair of tongs, toss the vegetables until they are coated evenly with the salt, pepper and olive oil.  Transfer them to a foil-lined baking sheet and arrange them in a single layer.  Roast for 30-45 minutes, or until they have become completely tender.  Let cool to room temperature and keep refrigerated for up to 3-4 days.

For the panino:  Preheat a panini press.  Slice the bread lengthwise.  Begin by adding the mozzarella, followed by the prosciutto, and then add the roasted vegetables. Top with another single layer of mozzarella and the lettuce leaves, if using.  Press down on the sandwich lightly and transfer to the panini press to toast for about 5-7 minutes.  Serve hot.