Lasagna col Pesto

Alas, I am not the Italian-language queen I think myself to be. Pesto lasagna is actually Lasagna col Pesto, not Lasagna al Pesto as I wrote earlier. It is said that a person retains an average of 30% of a foreign language if they do not use it on a regular basis. Sigh.

To get to my point, my darling friend Kellie requested the recipe for the Lasagna col Pesto at TND last night. (Kellie, you know you must now attempt this. You have no excuse. Perhaps we can work on it together sometime this weekend.) Unlike most American meat lasagna recipes, this recipe does not call for the use of ricotta. The lasagna col pesto is less focused on the structure of the filling, as it is too busy with the delicate balancing act the pasta, bechamel and pesto are performing.

Enjoy this simple lasagna, it is delightfully versatile. It can be frozen for an easy weeknight dinner, and leftovers are incredible. I used pre-made pesto as fresh basil is still not available in the markets. Once it is, make your own pesto, it adds such depth to the dish.

Lasagna col Pesto

1 C. pre-made pesto (I use Trader Joe’s, it is by the pizza sauce and cheeses)
Béchamel sauce
½ C. pine nuts
1 C. grated Pecorino or Parmigiano cheese
1 lb best-quality lasagna noodles
½ C. grated mozzarella cheese

Salt to taste

Preheat oven to 385.

Bring a pot of salted water to a rolling boil, add a spoonful of oil to it, so the sheets of pasta won’t stick, and add the pasta. Cook until the pasta is al dente, gently remove the sheets and set them to drain on a clean cloth. Stir two tablespoons of the pasta water into the pesto.

In a large casserole dish, spread a thin layer of bechamel sauce. Top with a layer of pasta, then another layer of bechamel, a layer of pesto (you can mix the pesto and bechamel, I found this the easiest route) and a layer of cheese. Repeat layers until you reach 1/2 inch from the top of the dish. Top with mozzarella and a generous amount of parmesan.

Bake 30-45 minutes, until warmed through and the cheese is browned and bubbly. If the cheese begins to brown too quickly, cover the dish with foil until the last 10 minutes of cooking time. Remove foil and finish baking.

We need to talk

I think it's time we had a serious talk.

Have you recently sat down and kept track of how much sugar you consume in one day? I'm not just referring to the obvious candy and soda, but really, really took a look?

I was about to eat my raspberry yogurt yesterday morning, when I thought to look at the ingredients. I've been on my "Just Say No to Processed Foods" kick lately, and was curious if the last of my yogurt supply was compliant with my little campaign. With soap box in hand, I held the round container up and braced myself for what I was about to read. Beyond the obvious preservatives, the ingredients looked good at first. No sugar in the first 4. Then I got to the raspberries, "high fructose corn syrup, raspberries, sugar, water". I had often wondered how my lowfat yogurt contained 240 calories!

And even the fruit filling is a little obvious when wondering about sugar content. What about ketchup, barbecue sauce, salad dressings, and on and on and on? Sugar, sugar, sugar.

How is it that people sit and question all of these diseases, obesity, and chronic illnesses, as they sip their diet coke? It is so simple. Your body is a machine. If you don't put good fuel into it, how do you expect it to perform at it's highest capacity? If you put garbage into your car, it won't run. At some point, if you feed it enough poor fuel, the car will just stop working. Basic, common sense.

My quest these past two weeks has been to significantly increase my consumption of whole grains and vegetables, and cut out (almost completely) my consumption of processed sugar (natural sugars are fine, including honey, in moderation). I have been shocked at the increase in my energy, my desire to be outside, and a more positive outlook on life. The last has been the most surprising outcome of my new diet; I had not realized that what I ate affected my moods.

So I challenge you: take some time today and write down everything you've eaten. Be honest. Then challenge yourself to make a few reasonable changes to your diet. Incorporate more vegetables (no, not potatoes). Your body will thank you.

I will now get off my little soap box and put it away until I find something else to get worked up about. Don't worry, it won't be long.

Bechamel, Lasagna and Maurizio

While studying in Florence, I lived in a house with 54 students, one host family, and Maurizio—our chef. Our calendar was defined by what Maurizio would be serving at dinner each night. Lasagna Thursday. Pesto Monday. And the most famous, Tiramisu Tuesday. Oh the Tiramisu. I still dream about it.

Upon my return home, I did what any normal student returning home from Italy does: I tried my hand at recreating some of Maurizio’s famous dishes. Armed with my book of “Ricette di Maurizio” (“Maurizio’s Recipes”—in fact, not his recipes, but I’m not complaining) and the cravings of a madwoman, I began my first attempt: Lasagna al Pesto. The ingredients were familiar enough, even if the converted measurements were a little confusing. The only ingredient I was unfamiliar with was béchamel sauce, which I simply added to the grocery list for my wonderful mother. It was then that I found out béchamel sauce is not sold in grocery stores here. Alfredo sauce served as the stand-in that night.

The Lasagna al Pesto was fantastic. Cheesy and warm, with the crunch of toasted pine nuts and creamy pesto oozing out of each bite. No, it was not Maurizio’s, but it was good.

This past weekend, after little more than a year of obsessively studying food and cooking, I finally got my “Aha!” moment. I discovered that the béchamel sauce is one of the simplest of all Italian sauces, and the base for most cream sauces. It is a white sauce which starts with a roux, then cream is slowly added and then simmered until the sauce is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. At the end, fresh nutmeg is added to give the flavor more depth (white sauces are almost always better off with the addition of freshly ground nutmeg). (I'm still not sure if it is in fact any different than Alfredo Sauce)

And what should a Kristy do with her new discovery? Make Lasagna al Pesto, of course! This time, much to my chagrin, I was not armed with my trusty book of recipes. I’m sure it’s on my cookbook shelf, but seeing as the shelf is 9 feet off the ground, I am a staggering 5’4”, and Matt was gone for the afternoon, I was on my own. I researched several different lasagna recipes, and decided to wing it.

The béchamel sauce was thrillingly easy, and made the whole kitchen smell buttery and warm. I poured some into the bottom of my small lasagna pan, then layered lasagna noodles, more béchamel, pesto, parmesan, and repeated this pattern until I reached the top of the pan. Another layer consisting of mozzarella, parmesan and pine nuts, and the lasagna was ready to bask in the oven for awhile.

Really, need I mention how the house smelled when Matt got home? Marsh’s nose was on a warpath to discover the origin of the delicious aroma, and I must say I was then envious of his heightened sense of smell. It was pesto-nirvana.

Bechamel Sauce
(adapted from foodnetwork.com)

1 stick unsalted butter (4 ounces)
1/2 cup and 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 quart whole milk, at room temperature
Pinch fresh nutmeg
Sea salt

In a medium saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the flour and whisk until smooth, about 2 minutes. Always stirring, very gradually add the milk and continue to whisk until the sauce is smooth and creamy. Simmer until it is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. This will take approximately 10 minutes. Stir in nutmeg. Reserve in a water bath if not using immediately.

Irish Soda Bread

When I was in second grade, my class held a “Heritage Day”, in which each student was to make and bring something from their family's background. Having recently discovered that I was part Irish, I of course wanted to make something from Ireland. I’m not exactly sure how I stumbled upon the idea to make Irish Beer Bread for my second grade class, but I did. And it was good. I can still taste it 15 years later. I wish I’d had a camcorder then to record the parents’ faces when they saw that a second-grader had brought beer bread.

And so you can imagine my disappointment on Monday to discover that the recipe had grown legs and walked—stumbled-- out of my mom’s recipe box. I was planning my TND for the week, and needed something to accompany the Irish Beef Stew with Guinness and Apples Duff I was already excited about making.

Irish Soda Bread has long been a favorite, and this time was no different. It is a dense bread with the distinct flavor of baking soda (did you know that baking soda had a flavor?). After a bit of research, I learned that the “X” cut into the top of the bread is not for design, but for practical use. When the bread was first created—sometime around the 1820s, with the invention of baking soda—cutting utensils where not always readily available to the poor Irish in the United States. The “X” was cut deep so that when the bread baked it was already perforated for easy tearing into servings.

If anyone has a great recipe for Irish Beer Bread, please pass it on!

Irish Soda Bread

3 ½ cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 ½ cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 425. Line a baking sheet with greased parchment paper, or grease and lightly flour baking sheet.

Whisk together flour, baking soda and salt. Slowly stir in buttermilk until mixture forms a ball. You may need to add another tablespoon or so of buttermilk. Place mixture onto a lighly floured surface, knead for 1 minute until dough incorporates into a ball. Transfer dough to baking sheet. With a knife, cut an “X” across the top of the dough, about 1-2 inches deep.
Bake 40 minutes, until bread is golden brown and sounds hollow when tapped on the bottom. This bread is best served hot out of the oven (then again, I’m not sure what bread isn’t).

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Spaghetti a la Carbonara

Spaghetti a la Carbonara was one of the first dinners I ever made for Matt. It was his 22nd birthday and I decided to take him on a picnic to Serra Retreat in Malibu. This dish is one of his very favorites from Italy, so I figured I would give it a shot and surprise him. The result was a VERY greasy, but tasty, pasta that left you feeling like you had just eaten a bowling ball. That recipe, as well as many variations, called for you to add the fat rendered from the pancetta at the end in order to cook the eggs. And heavy cream. We wondered why we felt so gross.

This recipe is my tried-and-true latest rendition of that meal. Attempting to be of a more health-conscious mindset, I have omitted the rendered fat, and use either half and half or lowfat milk (depending on my mood and refrigerator stock—milk produces only a slightly thinner consistency which can be compensated for with more cheese). Make sure to add the egg mixture while the pasta is still hot—you want to actually cook the eggs with the heat of the pasta.

Matt requests this dish all the time now that we can eat it and not feel like breathing, walking, and talking, balls of grease. And I often have the ingredients in the fridge. Bacon will work if you don't have pancetta, I have even crisped up prosciutto to very good results. The recipe is quite flexible.

Spaghetti a la Carbonara

1 pound pancetta, diced into 1-inch cubes
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
6 eggs, at room temperature
1/2 cup half and half or milk, at room temperature
1 1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan
1 pound dried spaghetti

Heat a large saute pan, until hot. Add pancetta and saute until golden brown and crispy, about 5 minutes. Season with black pepper and remove pan from heat and drain any rendered fat.

In a large pot, bring salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook until al dente, about 8 to 10 minutes.

While the pasta is cooking, beat the eggs and cream together in a medium bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Stir in Parmesan, reserving 2 tablespoons for garnish.

Drain the pasta. Do not rinse; you want to retain the pasta's natural starches so that the sauce will stick. While the pasta is still hot, add the browned pancetta and mix well. Add the cream mixture and coat the pasta completely. It's important to work quickly while the pasta is still warm so that the cream mixture will cook, but not curdle. Top with remaining Parmesan and serve.

Serves 4.

My Traffic Cloud

I truly believe that I have my own personal traffic cloud. A cloud of traffic that surrounds me and follows me everywhere I go. And if it's not traffic, it's something that is keeping me from where I am trying to go.

Today I was at Pepperdine (ahem) visiting Adrian. I was thrilled to receive a small blessing in the form of a visitor's token to Smother's parking lot. And let me tell you, that coin is worth it's weight in gold. Unless, like today, there are absolutely no parking spaces left. So you can imagine my elation when I found the very first space outside of the lot available--with just enough room before the red curb to fit my truck ("Rojo"). Just to make sure I was legal, I pulled up close to the Mini parked in front of me (checking first, of course, to make sure he had plenty of room ahead of him to get out) and gleefully jumped out of my car and hurried to meet my dear friend.

And my little cloud followed me even to Adrian's cubicle! Upon leaving, I was shocked to discover a large black Range Rover bumper-kissing Rojo! And parked in the red zone, no less! I walked around my truck, evaluated the situation, and came to the horrible realization that it was physically impossible for me to get out of the parking spot. Forty minutes and a call to Public Safety later, a blond girl on her cell phone came prancing over and said "Oh! Is that your truck?" Ummm, YES! She got into her car and Adrian had a few words with her when, to make matters worse, she lied and said the Mini was not there when she parked so close to Rojo! I'm sorry?!

Needless to say, my little traffic cloud is still following me, regardless of my continual threats, complaints and tears. Perhaps he is just lonely.

And how many veggies did YOU eat today?