Tag Archives: Cooking

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!

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Chicken Artichoke Pasta Alfredo

This scrumptious recipe is woman-pleasin’ to the max. I attempted to make it man-pleasin’ as well by sprinkling some bacon on top. The results:

Me: So what do you think? Isn’t this awesome?

My man: Um, well, it’s alright.

Me: “Alright”?? “Alright“?? Are we eating the same dish? Did I not sprinkle enough bacon on? Seriously, you don’t love this?

My man: I mean, it’s okay. I like it fine.

Me: “Okay”??? “Fine”???? *spazzing out*

My man: Yeah, it’s fine. Not mind-blowing, but it’s good.

*at this point I’m passed out on the floor*

So I’m just going to skip the whole burning question that has my mind on fire: did God really create my taste buds so differently from my husband’s? Is it a woman/man thing? Or is he a freak of nature? Or wait, maybe I’m the freak of nature?

Anyway, ignore this whole little session and just remember the fact that I fully endorse the deliciousness of this dish.

Ingredients

(Serves 5)

3 TBS olive oil

4 cloves garlic, minced

1.25 lb boneless skinless chicken breasts (1 1/2 breasts)

salt and pepper, to taste

1 lb farfalle (bowtie) pasta

2 14 oz cans artichoke hearts, drained (rinse well if using marinated hearts)

1 stick unsalted butter

1 c heavy whipping cream

1 1/2 c freshly grated parmesan cheese

4 slices bacon, chopped and fried (optional garnish)

1 TBS minced thyme or rosemary leaves (optional garnish)

First, get the pasta water (salted) on the stove so that we can get that farfalle cooked!

I chose to prep my garnish first–don’t ask why that made any kind of sense. I’d fried up some bacon the night before, so I chopped it up nice and fine along with some rosemary.

Thyme is also delicious on this dish. I should note that if you choose to use raw herbs for the garnish (as opposed to cooking the rosemary with the bacon, for example, or adding it to the chicken as it’s frying), chop it up finely! A mouthful of herb can be a rather bitter experience. You want tiny pieces–they pack a whomp.

Now, chop the chicken into bite-sized cubes.

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high to high heat. When it’s hot, add the garlic and chicken.

Immediately sprinkle the chicken with salt and black pepper. Cook for about 5 minutes, until the chicken is starting to look less raw.

Open and drain those artichoke hearts–we don’t want any excess liquid going in.

Add the artichoke hearts, and cook for another 3 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Looking good.

Now you could chop up your artichoke hearts if you want, but I just broke them apart in the pan with my wooden stirring device:

I also used this opportunity to quickly grate the parmesan.

Add the butter to the artichokes and chicken . . .

Watch it melt with longing in your eyes.

Once it’s fully melted, add the cream . . .

. . . and parmesan.

Continue to cook for another few minutes until it’s turned into a lovely, thick sauce.

It looks a little pale, and that’s why the garnish is so important. It adds a beautiful pop to what could be a boring-looking dish.

When the pasta is done, pour it into the sauce and stir it around to combine.

Ew. That picture is disturbing, disgusting, and unappetizing. The drips of sauce look like . . . stalactites. Please pretend it never happened.

Let’s serve it up and top it off with some rosemary and bacon pieces.

Much prettier without those stalactites hanging ’round like they do.

You can also grate on a little more Parmesan if that does it for you.

I used one of my favorite Christmas gifts: a microplane zester.

Perfect!

Let’s take another bite.

Enjoy, ladies. And . . . men? If your taste buds are so inclined.

Click here for printer-friendly version: Chicken Artichoke Pasta Alfredo