“I was thinking… when we get back, we could make homemade ravioli”, Francis nodded to the pasta roller on the counter and pulled a box from his kitchen cupboard. It was a ravioli press. A Raviolamp 12, to be exact, in a slightly worn box. I was breathless. This was ringing all the right bells – crafty, foodie, flea market finds. Francis and I have cooked a few times together, very successfully, in fact, but I still get performance anxiety. Present me with a brand new $300 pasta machine, with all the bells and whistles, and I know what perfection is expected of me. But a used ravioli press with a piece of packing tape holding the box together? Well now, you just wanna play. THAT, I can do.
The day before, we had hiked through the woods near a cabin we rented in Rhododendron, Oregon, and had seen people gathering mushrooms. They weren’t tourists, they were definitely pro-shroomers. I say that because they were small and bent, wearing waterproof boots and ponchos with bags to contain their findings. They stayed targeted on their tasks, not looking up to say hi to wanderers. They were like fungus gnomes, trekking through the misty woods with determination and focus. That’s not judgment you hear in my voice, that’s jealousy and admiration. Their collection sacks were full. They were magical mushroom hobbits and I was in awe.
Everyone loves grilled chicken, but most people shy away from grilling it at home. But here's a method that has been perfected by the Italians and is uniquely different. Pollo al mattone, or chicken under a brick, is a popular dish in Tuscany, where it is often prepared by families in the countryside. It's easy to make on the grill any time. Make it this weekend before summer is completely over—your family will love you for it.
Mention a party that revolves around food, and I’m there. When my friend, Bobbie, sent an email out a couple of weeks ago asking if anyone was interested in getting together for an asparagus-pickling party, I hit reply and typed “For sure” without hesitation.
I LOVE risotto. It's one of the many things I had never eaten before I moved to California. Never even heard of it in my two decades of growing up in Western Massachusetts. I know that seems hard to believe,
but I made my parents risotto when they came out to visit 5 years ago
and they had no idea what it was. Seriously. Italian food growing up
was lasagna, pasta with red sauce or pizza. I can't remember the first
risotto I ever ate, but I know I was instantly hooked because it's the
dish I always order whenever I see it on the menu...or hear it as the
special. I just can't help myself. I love the creamy, chewy consistency
of it, the homeyness, the endless possibilities. It's a dish I make at
least 3-4 times a month, as it's fairly simple and hard to screw up. Or
so I thought. Apparently, I've been serving it all wrong.
Last time I was at the supermarket, the cashier picked up my head of radicchio and punched in the code for red cabbage. The price came up as 70 cents.