The weather outside is weather…

And what weather it is. Goddamn New England. I don’t understand why our weather is such absolute crap; cold one minute, warm-ish the next but only enough to melt some ice, then cold again to make more godforsaken ice. Jesus. I should probably stop being blasphemous, seeing as how it’s Ash Wednesday and my poor mother-in-law is probably horrified. Especially since this week’s blog is about a recipe she gave me.

As part of the delicious Christmas dinner she cooked for us, she made Venus de Milo soup. I had never heard of it before, but it’s one of my husband’s favorites. And since he is her favorite son, she made it for the holiday [note: I'm sure she loves both of her delightful sons equally]. It’s an extreme comfort food; a rich, meaty broth peppered with diced vegetables and pasta, topped with Parmesan cheese. How can you go wrong?

Not a lot of pictures for this one – you know how I feel about soup and it’s unattractiveness.

Venus de Milo Soup
1 pound ground beef or sirloin
48 oz chicken broth
1 pkg. onion soup mix
2 large ribs celery, diced
2 medium carrots, diced
1/2 an onion, diced*
1/2 cup orzo
1 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
salt & pepper to taste
grated Parmesan cheese for topping
* this is not in the original recipe, but I can’t help adding unnecessary steps.

In a large, heavy-bottomed pot, brown meat. Add in the Worcestershire sauce, celery, carrots and onions and let vegetables soften. Season with salt and pepper. Add in the onion soup mix and chicken broth. Bring to a boil. Let simmer for 20 minutes. Add orzo, cook an additional 8 – 10 minutes. Season again with salt, pepper and Worcestershire sauce if necessary. Serve immediately with freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

That’s it; a bunch of simple ingredients, but they come together really well. I’ve also looked at various website and have seen other variations on this soup – different vegetables, adding in diced tomatoes, different broths, etc. There’s a million ways you can prepare this, but I’m pretty sure all of them are going to be tasty.

There's no cream in carbonara!

Or at least, there shouldn’t be. But I wasn’t about to tell that to the waitress at the restaurant I was at last night in Boston’s North End for my work-BFFs birthday. I’m not sure what possessed me to order it anyway; I think I was dazzled by the talk of lobster, diver scallops and ‘jumbo’ shrimp [ps, they looked more like 21/25 to me!].

But that reminded me of my own carbonara dish that I had yet to post; it was incredibly good and even though I always think of carbonara being a heavy dish, this was so light and flavorful that I regret not making it sooner. It was delicioso! See? Those are my Italian roots showing.

This is slightly less than authentic, but I’m not charging you $25 to eat my not-authentic food, am I? AM I? NO! And you know why? Because nothing I cook ever comes out exactly the same. I can follow the same recipe over and over again, yet inevitably I change something. It’s like my food is as unpredictable as my moods! Hee, sorry husband!

So without further ado, I bring you: Michelle’s Langostino Carbonara!

6 oz spaghetti/linguine/fettuccine
12 oz langostino (or lobster/shrimp/etc)
2 whole eggs
2 egg yolks
2 oz of Pecorino Romano, freshly grated
1 1/2 tablespoons lemon pepper seasoning, or to taste
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 oz pancetta, diced
1 large carrot, julienned
10 – 12 stalks of asparagus

Preheat oven to 200 F. Once oven is heated, place bowls in there to keep warm. Bring pot of salted water to a boil; add pasta. In a small bowl, whisk together whole eggs, egg yolks, lemon pepper seasoning, and grated cheese. In a medium sized pan, heat olive oil. Once hot, add in diced pancetta and cook until fat renders. Remove pancetta to a a plate lined with paper towels; drain off all but two teaspoons of fat from the pan.

Add in the carrots and asparagus and cook until tender. Add back in the pancetta and heat through. Set aside. Once the pasta is cooked to your preference, reserve 1/3 cup of pasta water and then drain pasta. Add pasta into the pan with the veggie mixture, along with egg mixture and toss to coat. If the sauce is too thick, add some of the reserved water. Serve immediately in warmed bowls.

Again, this is so good. I can’t say enough good things about this incredibly simple dish. Also, please note that when I say “lemon pepper seasoning” I don’t mean the crap that is powdered and bright yellow. I mean the stuff you can buy at Trader Joe’s or any other store worth its salt, that has whole black peppercorns, dried lemon peel and sea salt with a grinder on top. The lemony flavor adds so much to the dish and obviously complements the seafood and asparagus beautifully.

Stuffed shells are technically Italian food.

The best thing I read at work this week was an email exchange between two of my favorite co-workers, in regards to a work dinner we had tonight.

Co-worker 1: mmmmmmmmmm veal.
Co-worker 2: yes yes but which kind of veal?
Co-worker 1: the most tortured kind they got.

This is amusing to me on a couple of levels: a) co-worker 1, up until about two or three months ago, was a vegetarian for years and years and is now some sort of hardcore meat eater, and b) veal makes everyone react like that! Well, maybe not exactly like that, but veal is one of those meats that makes people either kinda squeamish or drool with the thought of the tender, tender meat melting in your mouth if it’s prepared properly. Me, I’m not so much with the veal love, but my husband is – which brings to me to my point [see, you knew I'd get to it eventually]: the stuffed shells I made recently were made completely with veal, instead of my usual go to of a mixture of pork, beef and veal.

In continuing with my bastardization of foods from a variety of countries, I bring to you “Stuffed Shells alla Michelle” [see, because I italicized it, you're supposed to assume that it's in another language]. I’ve been making stuffed shells for years because it’s always a crowd-pleaser and it’s a pretty easy dish. Since this time I made my own sauce to accompany it instead of slopping on some store bought stuff [don't hate], I decided the dish was now worthy of it’s own entry. Plus, wtf, it’s been two weeks? We’re slacking.

059Sauce:

28 oz can of crushed tomatoes
2 carrots, peeled and grated finely
1 onion, diced
1/4 cup olive oil
3 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon sugar (optional)
1 – 2 teaspoons cayenne pepper, to taste
1 teaspoon kosher salt

The sauce is the easy part, and for some reason, I feel like this is some of the best sauce I’ve made, yet it was so incredibly simple. First cook the diced onions in the olive oil, just until they start to caramelize. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant. Dump in the tomatoes, and mix to combine. Add in the carrots, to cut the acidity of the tomatoes; depending on how acidic the tomatoes are will determine if you add in the teaspoon of sugar.

Next add in the salt, and then lastly slowly add in the cayenne pepper to your tastes. Now, this is where the husband and I differ [I say that like it's our only difference - ha!]: I like some spice to my food, but he doesn’t. If I had only done a teaspoon of the cayenne, I feel like it would have added some depth of flavor and a bit of a bite. Two teaspoons was a noticeable flavor and one I felt was welcome, given the heaviness of the stuffed shells. Either way, add it slowly and see how you want it to be. You can also omit the cayenne and add in your fresh or dried herb of your choice – basil, thyme, rosemary, etc. It’s a good base that you can build on as you go along.

Stuffed Shells:

1/2 box of large pasta shells
3/4 – 1lb ground meat of choice (veal, in this case)
1/2 – 3/4 cup of ricotta
salt and pepper to taste

Cook the shells according to the package directions. Brown the meat, seasoned with salt and pepper. Drain and cool the shells. Mix the meat with the ricotta, until you have a rich and creamy mixture of the two; adjust seasonings. Stuff about 1.5 tablespoons of meat and ricotta mixture into each shell.

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To get the dish ready for baking, you need to cover the bottom of a 7×11 pan with sauce. Lay the shells in the pan open side up and line up evenly. Once all of the shells are in the pan, drizzle more sauce over the top, and finish off with a layer of mozzarella cheese. Cook in an oven pre-heated to 350 for about 35 – 40 minutes.

Thank me later.

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Gnocchi is a funny word.

All I’m saying, is that I hear about ten different pronunciations of it every time it comes up in conversation. Which, strangely, doesn’t happen often. I wonder why that is? Well, around these parts, it’s because the husband dislikes gnocchi immensely. I conveniently forgot that he disliked it when I made this dish. But, beggars can’t be choosers and all that; it’s not like he was going to get up and cook something.

Anyhoodle. [I'll have you know that I just stopped and stared at the screen and tried to decide a) if it's douchey to say anyhoodle, and b) if I cared enough to change it, and realized c) It is and I don't, but I do apparently feel the need to explain my every thought process to you.]

I like gnocchi well enough, but it’s one of those things that I rarely ever think about eating because there are so many other things I like better [see: onions, caramelized; eggs, poached; etc., etc.]. But I saw a package of the vacuum packed gnocchi when I was in Trader Joe’s last week and decided to give it a shot. In my head, I wanted to pan fry them in some pancetta fat and hope for the best. So when we were trying to figure out what to have for the lunch the other day, I decided to give it a shot.

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I got the gnocchi cooking in a big pot of salted water, then cooked some diced pancetta in another pan. Once the pancetta was done, I removed from the pan to crisp up, and left the fat in the pan. In another pan, with equal parts butter and olive oil (about a teaspoon each), I started cooking some diced onions, carrots, and garlic.

Once the gnocchi were done, I put them in the pan with the reserved pancetta fat along with some red pepper flakes, and let them crisp up on the outside and get all golden brown. Meanwhile, the onions were starting to just caramelize and the carrots were tender with still a little bite in them, so they were perfect. I added those to the pan with the gnocchi, added back in the pancetta to get it back up to temperature, and seasoned with salt and pepper. Then all of that went into a bowl with some fresh grated parmesan cheese.

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I liked this; I thought the sweetness of the onions and carrots worked well with the saltiness of the pancetta and the cheese, the pepper added some welcome heat, and the gnocchi having more texture and bite made it more appealing to me. The husband . . . not so much. He liked everything but the gnocchi. He’s so silly.