Tag Archives: cheese

Cacio e Pepe

This simple little Italian number is literally translated ‘cheese and pepper.’ And it couldn’t be easier!

I must warn you, folks–it is spicy. Black pepper-style spicy. I hope your tongues can handle it, but if not, click on over to my Penne Rosa for a milder but equally delicious experience.

I already know this is a great dish to make when my husband is out of town, because it’s freshly made with minimal ingredients and minimal effort. And when he’s not around, well, let’s just say I’m reluctant to make much of an effort in the kitchen. Just the thought of turning on the stove makes me feel downright lazy. So let it be known I will turn to this!

The original recipe was hitting my personal saltiness limit, so I downed the amount of salt–but taste it and add more salt if your taste buds demand it.

Ingredients

(Serves 4)

1 lb thin spaghetti noodles

1 c reserved pasta water

1 c grated Pecorino Romano cheese

1 1/2 tsp salt

4 tsp cracked black peppercorns

2 TBS butter

First, let’s examine and rejoice in the simplicity of the ingredient list. Such a humble looking group! But destined for greatness nonetheless.

Boil the pasta in salted water (salted = important!) until al dente.

While it’s doing it’s thang, bash up the peppercorns with a mortar and pestle.

If you don’t have one, put the peppercorns in a closed ziploc bag and go at ’em with a rolling pin. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, say I.

Now let’s grate up a hefty pile of Pecorino Romano. I used to cut the skin off my finger with my regular grater and bleed all over my ingredients until Santa rewarded my year of goodness (hah!) with a microplane zester. The grated cheese was practically leaping off the block. This thing is a contraption of genius.

How I love it.

Reserve 1 cup of the pasta water, and drain the noodles.

In the same (now empty) pot, add the pasta water and 2 TBS of butter.

Over medium heat, melt the butter and then add the pasta back in.

Toss to coat it in the sauce. Now add half the cheese (ouch–can someone say ‘overexposed’?) . . .

. . . half the pepper . . .

. . . and all the salt.

Mix that good stuff around.

Serve into bowls, and top each one with the remaining cheese and pepper.

Great job! You just made an Italian original.

I must say–it would be so easy and SO fantastic to add some veggies to this. Some freshly chopped Roma tomatoes. Some sauteed zucchini. Some diced artichoke hearts. Or even some protein–shrimp! Chopped up grilled chicken! Grilled salmon! This dish can be your canvas for a limitless array of ingredients. Take hold of the power as the kitchen artiste!

Make it today. Or tomorrow! Or never! I love you regardless!

Click here for printer-friendly version: Cacio e Pepe

Garlic Gruyère Soup

If you’ve looked at any of my recipes at all, you know one thing: I love garlic.

And I love cream. So that’s two things.

We could also add mushrooms in there for number three . . . and how could I forget rice?? So if you’ve looked at any of my recipes at all, you actually know four things. *Insert clever statement of your choice referencing Monty Python’s Spanish Inquisition skit*

This garlic soup recipe came to me from on high. It came via Tasty Kitchen, Pioneer Woman’s recipe sharing site. It came with angelic choruses singing in the starlit sky. It came with blazes of glory, strings of diamonds and pearls, and ribbons in its hair.

It is g-e-w-d. That means ‘good’ in case you’re a step behind things this morning.

I’m a step behind things this morning. But that’s another story, which my next cup of coffee with Peppermint Mocha creamer should put a lovely ending to–a lovely ending such as: “and then the girl with the saggy eyes poured herself a cup of office coffee laced with Peppermint Mocha creamer and she lived happily! Ever! After! Her eyes went from saggy to bloodshot! Then she started typing at 1,000 WPM and cranking out her morning’s work! And the people rejoiced!”

It’s the power of caffeine on a grey morning, folks.

Anyway, enough falderal. We’ve got to get this thing started or I’ll just keep jibber-jabbering all morning long and we’ll never get to the part with the soup in it. Let’s boil it down to the bare facts: cream. Garlic. Wine. Garlic. Cheese. Garlic.

Ingredients

1 TBS olive oil

1 large onion, thinly sliced

16 cloves garlic, smashed

1 c dry white wine

4 c chicken stock

1 Bay leaf

2 cups French bread, torn into pieces

3/4 c heavy whipping cream

½ cups shredded Gruyère or Parmesan

First things first: slice your onion and smash your garlic.

You can see my container of pre-peeled garlic lurking there in the background. It’s one of the many delights provided by my local Asian grocery store.

Now heat the oil in a large pot and add the onion and garlic.

Cook over medium heat for 10 to 12 minutes, by the end of which they will start to get goldeny brown. It’s called caramelization and it’s the greatest culinary technique in creation.

Make sure your wine bottle is open. This funky opener was made for girls like me, who have broken corks untold with traditional bottle openers. It’s called a rabbit, and it would be a great Christmas gift for the struggling wine-opener in your family.

Add the white wine and cover the pot.

Reduce the heat to low, and cook for 10 minutes, giving it a stir every now and then.

It’s now looking something like this, and smelling like your wildest dreams come true.

Pour in the chicken stock and the bay leaf–you could easily use vegetable stock to make this dish vegetarian.

Bring it to a boil . . .

. . . then cover the pot and simmer it over low heat for 30 minutes.

I used this time to tear up my bread, grate my Parmesan, and measure out my cream.

Yes, it’s my Parmesan and my cream. Not the cream. Mine, mine, mine!! All mine!!! Though I will kindly share the cellulitis with you.

Yes, I cheated and used Parmesan even though I specifically used ‘Gruyère’ in the recipe title. But have you seen the prices on Gruyère these days? Have you seen them? And the Parmesan was on sale for $3.49 a wedge! They made me do it!

Try not to consume all the bread and parmesan before its time.

After those 30 minutes are up, turn off the stove and add the torn bread pieces . . .

. . . cover the pot and let it sit for 10 minutes. The bread will get mushy and schmushy–don’t question the process. Just believe.


Take the bay leaf out and try not to wonder why it’s glimmering like gold. Is it a leaf from Loth-Lorien?

I think Galadriel would totally dig this soup, yo.

Now put your immersion blender in and puree this baby.

You can also pour the soup into a regular blender (working in batches) and whizz it there, but make sure not to hurt or burn yourself in the process. I’ve heard stories of exploding soups and I want to make sure those do not take place in your life or kitchen.

Puree the soup until it’s nice and smooth, then stir in the cream . . .

. . . and add generous amounts of black pepper, and salt to taste. Taste it a few times. And then a few more. I know I certainly did.

Garnish each bowl with a hefty sprinkling of cheese. I added green onions for color.

Enjoy!

Click here for printer-friendly version: Garlic Gruyère Soup