Tag Archives: Pasta

Tomato Mascarpone Pasta

I can’t count the times that I’ve heard my mom use the phrase “In my humble but correct opinion . . .” When I was young, I thought it was just one of her mom-isms, like her habit of waking us up in the mornings with an annoyingly happy song and a dose of joy that our sleep-encrusted selves were simply not ready for. Or her habit of encouraging our problem solving skills by chirping ‘Figure it out yourself!’ in that maddeningly cheerful voice that made you want to shoot a small rabbit. But as an adult, I have connected some psychological dots, and that phrase “In my humble but correct opinion” does a lot to explain a whole family-treeful of people.

See, the women on that side of the family, well–they like to be right. A lot. Especially a certain member of the family whose name stars with a ‘J-‘ and ends with an ‘-essica.’ It doesn’t help matters that she actually is right most of the time, dagnabbit.

I’ve been hitting myself over the head for years with the Mallet of Truth, trying to drive into my puny little brain the following: being right isn’t the most important thing in life! And I think I’m actually making some progress. However, as soon as I sat down to type up this recipe, my mom’s old phrase started emerging from the battleground of my own psyche. Since I haven’t even had my first coffee of the morning, I will make no attempt to resist it at this time. So here goes:

In my humble but correct opinion, Kayotic Kitchen is one of the best food blogs out there. This Dutch cooking whirlwind of a woman creates recipes that have both innovative flavor combinations and that comforting quality about them. And did I mention her stellar photography? Basically, I would dig into anything that Kay cooked up with more relish than I care to expound on (I think I’ve already done enough expounding for one morning). Kay is responsible for inspiring this African stew as well as this amazing Tomato Mozzarella tart. So if you at all have a thing for food blogs, it is your bounden duty as a human being to go look at her blog.

Okay! *stepping off podium* Enough jabbering! Let’s get to the cooking. This little pasta number is a simple dish, with just the right amount of creaminess, herbs, and rich tomatoey-ness. With my twist (red wine and more garlic!), here we go!

Ingredients

(Serves 5)

1 lb spaghetti
1 TBS olive oil
1 onion
5 garlic cloves
1-28 oz can diced tomatoes
5 oz mascarpone
2 tsp Italian seasoning
Salt and pepper, to taste
1/3 cup red wine
Parmesan curls, to serve
Handful fresh basil

Oops! Forgot the wine.

I love the price on that Yellow Tail brand.

Dice the onion finely . . .

. . . and mince the garlic.

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. Add the onion and cook for 5-6 minutes, until softened.

Season the onion with salt and pepper, then add the minced garlic and cook for 1-2 more minutes, stirring to make sure the garlic doesn’t burn.

Pour in the diced tomatoes (please make sure to splash yourself thoroughly with tomato juice during this step–I hear red polka dots are the New Black) . . .

. . . and add the Italian seasoning.

Give it a nice stir.

Bring the sauce to a boil, then partially cover the pan (leaving a small opening on one side between the pan and the lid) and cook the sauce over medium low heat for 20 minutes.

Add the red wine . . .

. . . and cook for 10 more minutes, with the pan still mostly covered.

Cook the pasta in salted water until al dente.

While the pasta and sauce are a-cookin’, it’s prime time to finely slice or mince the basil . . .

. . . and shave some Parmesan. I just use a vegetable peeler to get those nice thin slices:

And don’t stop until you have a goodly pile of shavings–I never heard anyone crying ’cause there was too much Parmesan.

Except for Luke. He’s my dear cousin. He’s lactose intolerant. Who knows–a large mountain of Parmesan might indeed bring a tear to his eye.

Stir the mascarpone into the finished tomato sauce.

Ignore the pool of grease that’s quickly becoming apparent. The way I figure it, the faster you stir it in, the faster the evidence will disappear.

Taste and adjust the seasoning.

It’s better to overseason it a little since it’s going to be flavoring a whole whoppin’ pound of pasta.

I also wondered to myself if the sauce would need a pinch of sugar to counteract the acidity of the tomatoes–but it did not. In my humble but correct opinion, that is.

Stir the pasta into the sauce along with the basil.

Tongs are useful at this juncture, in my humbl . . . *hitting self repeatedly*

Top it with Parmesan shavings to serve.

Please forgive the wacky color balance of these pictures and just focus on how good a bite of this would taste. Does taste. Has tasted.

And while we’re on the subject, have I mentioned that I can do a really cool trick? I grab a strand of spaghetti, see, and while holding onto one end, I swallow it.

Then I drag it up and out through my throat. It’s the tickliest sensation you can imagine, and if I had a strand of spaghetti I’d totally do it right now for you.

I regularly horrified my younger siblings with this trick during our youth. Then we all grew up and moved out and I ran out of people to horrify. So I got married. And I started a blog. Problem solved!

The End.

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Diane's Girls' Night Pasta

This summer our church is having a Bible study for women every Tuesday night. We’re going through a fantastic series by Beth Moore called ‘Breaking Free,’ and (with the extra perk of dinner involved) it’s a lovely way to spend the evening. If you’re a female Christian, chances are you may have encountered Beth Moore–she’s a very blond and very Southern preach-it type of gal who does video devotional series with an accompanying booklet. For us more reserved Chicagoans, her intense style can feel a little . . . abrasive. “Lemme tell you, girlfriend!” she shouts, her eyes the size of dinner plates, her hair sprayed into a veritable tower of blondness. “I don’t know ’bout you, but I need me some freedom!”

It took about 2 sessions for me to get used to her. And now–I’m loving it! She is sincere, she is gospel-preachin,’ and she doesn’t mince her words. She’s direct and honest and I am enjoying this study to the max, poofy hair included.

But anyway, we’re getting distracted from the food part of this post. The first night we met for this summer study, Diane (one of the leaders) made this great pasta dish. “How do you make this??” I cried. And as soon as dinner was over, she had printed the recipe for me. Thank you, Diane. It’s simple, it’s wonderful, it’s girly.

Word of caution: the chicken and the pesto are center-stage flavors here, so get a gooood chicken and get some gooood pesto. Diane explained that the Costco roasted chicken is the most succulent store-bought chicken she’s come across, and it makes a big difference in the final dish. And lo and behold, Diane’s pasta was waaay better than mine, so if you have access to a Costco by all means take her advice.

Ingredients

1 roasted chicken, picked
16 oz rotini pasta
2 oz pine nuts, toasted
1 cup diced sundried tomatoes (8.5 oz)
3/4-1 cup pesto (6.25 oz)
1/2 cup grated Parmesan cheese, to serve

There’s the assembly–minus the pine nuts. Pretend there’s a little jar of pine nuts.

Start off by boiling some pasta water (salted!).

Now it’s time to get your hands dirty and pick that chicken. I have no pictures to present because I had picked it the night before. You can go the storebought route, or you could easily roast up a chicken of your own in a little over half an hour using this method.

I chopped up the chicken with a handy pair of kitchen scissors:

Now grab yon sundried tomatoes . . .

. . . and give them a good dice.

This didn’t take me long since I bought the julienned kind.

Now it’s time to lightly toast the pine nuts in a skillet. They burn easily, so move them about and give them your undivided attention.

*visualize a skillet of pine nuts gently toasting over a low flame*

Why didn’t I take a picture, you ask? Well . . . um . . . see . . . every now and then this side of me pops out that I like to call ‘The Cheapskate Jenna’ (or is it ‘cheapscape’? I never did figure that out).

See, I couldn’t bring myself to spend $6 on what seemed to be the world’s tiniest jar of pine nuts. But as long as the $6 doesn’t phase you all, they truly are delicious in this dish. Like, the dish really isn’t the same without them. Yep, this is one of those ‘don’t do what I do–do what I say’ situations. Unless you have a Cheapskate alter-ego that will also emerge and take the reigns of your being right before you get in line to check out, consuming you with guilt until you put that dang jar of pine nuts back on the shelf.

Grate the Parmesan nice and fine:

When the pasta is almost al dente, set aside 1 cup of pasta water (just dip a glass cup measure straight into the pot) . . .

. . . and drain the pasta. Immediately return the pasta to the pot and stir in the tomatoes and chicken . . .

. . . and the pesto and pine nuts.

Cook it all over low heat for a couple minutes, stirring until it’s evenly mixed and the pasta is al dente.

Stir in extra pasta water as needed–if it’s looking/tasting dry, add splashes of water until the consistency is to your taste. I forgot to reserve the pasta water and my end result was a little dry. Wow–no pine nuts, no pasta water . . . I was really slacking off when I made this.

Oh well! It’s all part of my Recovering Perfectionist Therapy Regime, so I hereby forgive myself.

Serve with plenty of Parmesan sprinkled on top!

It’s tasty and easy and an overall great weeknight meal.

Plus, even though ‘girls’ night’ is in the title of it, my husband said that it hit the spot in his man-stomach.

Thanks again Diane for sharing your great recipe!

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