hot tomatoes, cold rice and the promise of summer to come

2 large, ripe, firm tomatoes
sea salt
peppercorns at the ready (you will grind them fresh when it’s time)
1.5 cups Arborio rice
8 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil, divided + some more for drizzling
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
2 tbsp chopped Italian parsley leaves
2 tbsp chopped mint leaves (oh yes. stay with me.)
2 tbsp chopped basil leaves
4 anchovies, coarsely chopped (still here?)
3 tbsp bread crumbs (homemade are best, of course) toasted

Halve the tomatoes horizontally and, using your fingers, gently remove some of the seeds to create a series of hollow impressions. Salt the tomatoes and turn them upside down on paper towels to drain for 20 minutes.

Cook the rice in abundant salted boiling water, like pasta, until al dente. Drain well. (I usually strain it in a fine sieve and rinse it under cold water). Transfer the rice to a bowl. Toss the rice in 4 tablespoons of olive oil and season with salt and pepper to taste. Let cool.

In a small bowl combine the garlic, herbs, and anchovies. Moisten with the remaining 4 tablespoons of olive oil. Lightly oil a baking dish large enough to contain the tomatoes without crowding them. Arrange the tomatoes in the baking dish. Stuff the herb mixture into the cavities of the tomatoes. Sprinkle the tomatoes with the bread crumbs and drizzle with a few drops of olive oil. Bake in a preheated 450 oven for 12 minutes, or until the tomatoes begin to soften but well before they lose their shape.

Divide the rice among 4 dinner plates, smoothing the rice so that it forms a bed for each tomato half. Remove the tomatoes from the oven and center a tomato half on each plate of rice.

Take a bite that mingles the hot tomato and the cold rice. Be delighted and amazed.

Serves 4. Unless you get greedy.

Freely adapted from the incomparable Viana La Place’s Verdura.

sweet pea pasta

The best and hardest thing about spending so much time on the road? Eating in so many restaurants.

The best and hardest thing about coming home again? Making my own meals.

Sometimes takes a few days of take out and quick fixes until I've settled in, the bags are unpacked, and routine has returned like a cat to its sill.

Then it's time to make a mess in the kitchen. Then it's time to come home.

fettuccine with peas, green onions, and mint (really)
serves 4

or, as we call it around here: sweet pea pasta

• small pinch of saffron threads or saffron powder


• 6 tablespoons of unsalted butter at room temp


• 6 green onions or several young red onions, sprouted like scallions trimmed and cut into rings


• salt to taste


• 1 1/2 pounds fresh peas, shelled, or 1 1/2 cups frozen peas (it was a school night: I opted for frozen)


• water


• 3 tablespoons chopped mint leaves


• 3/4 pound fettuccine Manischwitz egg noodles, since it’s just past Passover and they’re raffling them off for cheap at the grocery


• freshly ground black pepper


• freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Soak the saffron in a very small bowl with 2 tbsp hot water while you prepare the sauce.

Combine 4 tbsp of the butter, the green curious red onions, and salt to taste in a medium saute pan. Cook over low heat until the onions are tender. Add the peas and 1/2 cup water, and cook over low heat until the peas are tender, stirring gently from time to time. Stir in the mint and keep warm.

Combine the remaining butter and the saffron water in a warm pasta serving bowl.

Meanwhile cook the fettuccine egg noodles in abundant salted boiling water. Drain when just tender, leaving water dripping from the strands. Place the pasta in the serving dish, add the sauce, and gently toss. Serve sprinkled with pepper and Parmesan cheese.

From Viana La Place’s Verdura, of course.

Images from the bounty that is Flickr and created with Big Huge Labs Mosaic Maker tool:
1. Fatte in casa, 2. Fresh mint, 3. Peas, 4. Scallions in a Sieve

like candy

Schooled
Originally uploaded by Leviathor.

I’m going to ask you to trust me on this one.

Even though the following recipe contains an odd mashup of ingredients -- some of them unlikely (raisins), others seemingly vile (anchovies), in the end it’s all good.

I promise you.

Like candy.

The first time I made Vianna La Place’s Perciatelli with Strong Tastes (subbing in Orecchiette, I admit) my ex- (who wasn’t, yet) and I wolfed it down. Paused briefly. And then agreed that I should make another batch. Which we summarily wolfed down.

Well, maybe a little more slowly the second time.

It’s that easy to make, and it’s that amazing to eat.

Trust me.

Perciatellli ai Sapori Forti
serves 4 to 6

• 1 lb perciatelli, broken into short lengths last night I used a curious, curled maccheroni for the first time. loved it.


• 6 tbs extra-virgin olive oil


• 4 anchovies, chopped to a paste, optional no. not optional. you want these anchovies. you *need* these anchovies.


• 4 tbsp raisins, plumped in warm water


• 6 tbs lightly toasted pine nuts


• 16 pitted oil-cured black olives, cut into large pieces (last night I used kalamatas, but use your faves)


• 6 tbs coarsely chopped Italian parsley (didn’t have any on hand last night. didn’t matter.)


• salt & freshly ground pepper to taste


• Toasted coarse bread crumbs

Cook pasta in abundant salted boiling water. Drain when al dente and reserve a little of the pasta cooking water.

Meanwhile select a saute pan large enough to contain all the cooked pasta. Warm the olive oil and the optional anchovies.

Add the drained pasta and toss. Sprinkle the remaining ingredients, except the bread crumbs, over the pasta, and toss over low heat for about 5 minutes, or until everything is hot and fragrant.

Season with salt and pepper but remember that the olives are salty, as are the anchovies if you use them. (You’re using them. Let’s be sure we agree on this one point. There’s a curious alchemy that occurs when you saute these little creatures. I don’t understand it, but I’m pretty sure it’s what makes this dish what it is.)

Sprinkle the pasta with bread crumbs and toss again.

Serve immediately with a small bowl of bread crumbs at the table.

Faithfully adopted from Vianna La Place’s Verdura, a gift from my sister, aka she of the seasonal greeting cards, for which I will love her forever (among other reasons).

Updated: Forgot the raisins. & the bread crumbs. Added them in. Many thanks to anniemcq for her keen editorial eye.