Tag Archives: wine

Pasta Fresca

This pasta dish with sweet white wine, balsamic vinegar, and veggies is incredible. Here’s how it came about. While casting about online for a copycat recipe for Noodles and Company’s Penne Rosa (you can see my version here), I came across the ingredient list for their Pasta Fresca dish. I’d never actually eaten it before, but I found the ingredients inspiring and created this little number a few nights later. About a month after that, I had the chance to order the ‘real’ Pasta Fresca at Noodles and Company, and discovered there was pretty much no likeness between their dish and mine. Similar ingredients, but completely different flavor profiles. Now I would have my version over theirs any day, but all I can say it make it and judge for yourselves–it’s simple and fresh and you will just love it. Here’s how to make it:

Ingredients

(Serves 3)

1/2 lb angel hair pasta

2 TBS olive oil

5-6 cloves garlic, sliced

2 TBS balsamic vinegar

6 roma tomatoes

1 red onion

salt to taste

ground black pepper

1 tsp cracked black peppercorns (heaping)

1/2 c sweet white wine (moscato)

1/3 c heavy whipping cream

5 oz baby spinach

handful basil leaves

Shaved Parmesan, to serve

First, chop all the ingredients: the onion . . .

. . . the tomatoes . . .

. . . and the garlic. Though I do like to thinly slice my garlic for this instead of mincing it.

You can also roughly chop the basil at this point, though that won’t go in until the end. Save a couple leaves to do some chiffonade. It will make everything prettier when you serve it.

While we’re at it prepping ingredients, let’s measure out those black peppercorns and give them a bashing with the old mortar and pestle. If you look closely, peppercorns are wrinkly and hilarious. Sometimes I like to eat one whole. It lights my mouth on fire, and also fills it with an almost lemony tang. If I were in the wilderness with no toothbrush, I would grab a peppercorn from a nearby peppercorn tree. It really makes your mouth, sinuses, and entire being feel cleaned out. Live on the wild side and crunch a peppercorn!

Hooray! Pulverized peppercorns. There’s nothing as pungent, spicy, and wonderful.

Except for Thai red chilis. Those suckers are just fantastic. Though you won’t find me eating one of those whole! No way.

Heat 2 TBS olive oil over medium high heat. Add the onion and garlic; cook for 4 minutes.

Add the balsamic vinegar. Reduce the heat to low and cook 5 minutes. The liquid should be gone at the end, completely absorbed by the onions. You could probably stop here and just eat some delicious balsamic onions. Though since the heavy cream hasn’t yet been involved, stopping here could also be the biggest mistake of your week. Or your life? Hard to say.

Add salt and pepper too, while you’re at it.

Add the chopped tomatoes. Turn up heat to medium high and cook for 2 minutes.

Add the sweet white wine. It’s very important that you use a sweet wine such as moscatel (I’ve seen this labeled “muscat” or “moscato” as well), because a dry white wine would give this sauce a radically different flavor. Take a swig while you’re at it–no one’s looking! They say it’s good for you, too. Seriously! I read it in Martha Stewart Living! Or was that red wine?

Cook for 15 minutes on medium high–it should be at a rapid simmer the whole time. The liquid should mostly reduce by the time you’re done.

Add the cream and cracked black peppercorns.

Cook on medium 3 minutes. Did someone just say “paradise”? Or did I inadvertently speak aloud?

Turn down heat to low and add spinach and basil. Yes, it looks like an invasion of the pot has taken place, but the heat will quickly cut these green intruders down to size.

Cook for 1-2 minutes, until just wilted.

I forgot to add the peppercorns with the cream, so I added them now instead.

Take your set-aside basil leaves and chiffonade them. Here’s how: roll up a leaf nice and tight . . .

. . . and slice it crosswise!

Couldn’t be easier, especially if you’re not trying to hold the knife and the leaf with one hand because your other hand is on your camera’s shutter release. Look at this precious little pile of curly-wurlies.

Will you forgive me if I promise never to say “curly wurlies” again?

Serve the sauce with the pasta, topped with basil chiffonade and parmesan.

Would you just look at this beauty?

Let’s take a generous bite . . .

Hey! Who ate my . . . ?! What the . . . !? Oh . . . *patting stomach* . . . it might have been me. Well, thankfully there’s more where that came from. Time for seconds:

And I’m pleased to say, second verse same as the first: AMAZING!

Click here for printer-friendly version: Pasta Fresca

Penne Rosa

I had Penne Rosa at Noodles and Company once, and it was then I realized I had to make something similar as quickly as possible. Two months later (yes, that was “as quickly as possible”), I stormed into the grocery store, demanded their entire stock of basil, and made a delicious dish. How similar it is to Noodles and Company, well, I just can’t say: let me remind you that I only had it once, didn’t take notes, and then let two months pass me by. But regardless, it’s fresh and perfect and I loved every bite. I mean, white wine and cream? As I’ve said before and I’ll say again until I draw my final breath, you can’t go wrong with those two things. Oh, and there’s garlic. I’m sorry, excuse me while I step to the side and faint dead away. I love that stuff.

Ingredients

1 lb penne pasta

4 TBS oil, divided

6 cloves garlic, minced

1 bunch asparagus, chopped

8 oz sliced mushrooms

1 c heavy whipping cream

1-28 oz can diced tomatoes

1/2 tsp red pepper flakes

3/4 c white wine

1 tsp brown sugar

3 cups fresh basil leaves, torn

Salt and pepper to taste

Parmesan, for sprinkling

Put your pasta water on to boil. I used mini penne, which boasted a super quick cooking time. I bought it mostly because it was cute, but I also thought it would mingle with the sauce better than its larger counterpart. Here’s the whole happy group together:

Roughly chop your asparagus on the diagonal (after removing the tough ends). This way of cutting it adds surface area to the pieces, which means more spots hit the pan/oil, which in turn adds flavor. Or maybe I’m just making that up.

Heat 2 TBS oil in a pan or pot. When hot, add the asparagus and fry for about 3 minutes. Add salt and pepper.

The asparagus will be bright green and crunchy after those 3 minutes–it’s the right time to remove it.

You don’t want to keep cooking it since it will later rejoin the sauce. If you cook it for too long up front, we’re talking a green mushy mess later.

You’d better have your garlic chopped by now–in this dish, I like it slivered instead of minced. The cooking time takes the edge off of the garlicky flavor, so encountering a larger chunk or slice is actually quite a pleasant experience.

Heat the remaining oil in the same pot over medium high heat. Add the garlic and mushrooms, and cook for 5 minutes, stirring often so that the garlic doesn’t burn. 

Add salt, pepper, and the red pepper flakes while it’s cooking.

The brown bits. Oh, the brown bits. I would lick them out of the pot if it didn’t mean cooking my own tongue in the process.

Add the wine, and cook for about 3 minutes, scraping the bottom to make sure all those brown bits get incorporated, loved, and assimilated.

Now, add the tomatoes.

Cook over high heat for 15 minutes, until reduced by half. You don’t want a watery sauce, so let it boil away aggressively. Add the brown sugar somewhere along the line.

Your (salted) pasta water should boil somewhere along the way . . . so get that goin’. Just look at those precious little noodles!

Now, add the cream to your sauce. Cook for another 5 minutes over medium high, letting the sauce thicken.

Please try to avoid drinking the whole concoction at this point. My mamma taught me that patience is a virtue . . . but one little spoonful can’t hurt, right? Mamma?

During the last minute of cooking, add the asparagus back in. A couple of my basil leaves snuck in too, but for the rest of you, hold those back for one more minute.

Now, take the sauce off the heat–trust me–and add the basil. I added half the basil at this point, and half after it was served into individual bowls. You don’t want to basil to cook and wilt–it’s best in this dish when it’s fresh, green, and as crunchy as it can be.

Once your pasta is cooked and drained, dump it into the pot with the sauce and mix it all together. You know what’s happening in that pot? One big lovefest.

Serve and sprinkle with parmesan, or parmesan shavings if you want to feel fancy. 

Click here for printer-friendly version: Penne Rosa