Pastapalooza at Locanda Verde
All you can eat pasta is not what you might expect at an upscale restaurant like Locanda Verde, but for the past three Mondays, Chef Andrew Carmellini has transformed the private dining room into an old time trattoria with a set menu of antipasto, several pastas and dessert. When Charles and I and a group of friends arrived this Monday, we were shown to the warm and rustic private dining room at the rear of the restaurant. It was decorated with wheels of Parmigiano, giant tins of imported Coluccio brand Italian DOP tomatoes, red checked table cloths, and candle dripped Chianti bottles to look like an old time trattoria. We sat at a big wooden farmhouse table, ordered some wine and the parade of antipasti began. Meatball sliders, fresh mozzarella drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, mortadella from Emilia Romagna, fried eggplants in vinegar and garlic, and a crisp Caesar-type salad topped with fat anchovies were all passed around the table and quickly gobbled up.
Then came the pastas, the moment we were all waiting for. Tender fresh ravioli with a creamy ricotta cheese filling and light mushroom sauce, called My Mother’s Ravioli on the menu, were the first to arrive, dished out from a large platter by our waiter. Penne Ricche with Ragu Pugliese made with tomatoes, ground lamb and mint was next, and then my favorite, or maybe my second favorite, gigantoni, similar to paccheri but with ridges and a tasty pork ragu.
I thought they were coming to clear our dinner plates, but the waitstaff appeared with a fourth pasta, Orecchiette with Broccoli Rabe pesto, olives, pine nuts and raisins. The orecchiette, which I learned later were made by a company called La Bottega and sold, like many of the other ingredients of our meal, at D. Coluccio & Sons in Brooklyn, were so good they seemed like home made. I was impressed at how well all of the pastas were cooked al dente — not an easy feat under the circumstances.
Charles ordered a perfect wine to go with the meal, Grifalco Aglianico del Vulture. It was hearty and spicy and stood up to all of the different flavors in the antipasto and pastas. We ended with big bowls of Citrus Tiramisu and espresso.
Locanda Verde’s pastapalooza was a lot of fun, especially for a group. There is one more pasta dnner scheduled for Tuesday, March 2. Just make sure you go hungry.
February 25, 2010 No Comments
The Italian Slow Cooker Chocolate Truffle Cake
It’s Valentine’s Day and here’s a perfect cake to make. It goes together quickly and needs just 6 ingredients. It “bakes” in the steamy warmth of the slow cooker, so it comes out tender, moist and creamy. You will need a large capacity slow cooker and a 7-inch spring form pan, or a 6 cup baking dish. I got my pan at the Browadway Panhandler, but many cookware stores carry them. Whatever you use, be sure it fits in the cooker before you begin.
CHOCOLATE TRUFFLE CAKE
A deep, rich chocolate cake is the perfect dessert for any special occasion. I like to serve this one with lightly whipped cream or softened ice cream.
Serves 6 to 8
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate
3/4 cup unsalted butter
2 tablespoons rum or strong coffee
3 large eggs
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon unsweetened cocoa powder, for garnish
Butter a 6-cup baking dish or a 7-inch springform pan. Line the bottom of the pan with foil or parchment and butter the paper.
Break up the chocolate into a heatproof bowl. Add the butter. Place the bowl over a pan of simmering water. The water should not touch the bottom of the bowl. When the chocolate is softened, remove the bowl from the heat, and stir until blended and smooth. Stir in the rum.
In a medium bowl, beat the eggs with the sugar until light and pale yellow. Stir the egg mixture into the chocolate. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan.
Place the pan in the slow cooker. Cover and cook on high for 2 hours or until set.
Remove the pan from the slow cooker. Cover and chill several hours or overnight. To serve, run a small knife around the edge of the cake. Invert it onto a serving plate. Place the cocoa powder in a small strainer and sprinkle it over the cake.
February 13, 2010 No Comments
Truffle Cheese and Prosciutto di San Daniele
Saturday was cold and snowy — a perfect day for cooking. Our friends from New Jersey were not going to make it through the storm to our home, so I was free to make whatever I pleased, my favorite way to cook. No recipes, no limits.
I took a survey of the contents of the refrigerator and found a large piece of Tufino, a semi-firm cheese made from a blend of cow and sheep’s milk studded with nuggets of black truffles. We had enjoyed slicing and eating it, but now I decided to try it cooked and an omelet seemed like the perfect test.
I whisked 2 eggs with a spoonful of milk and some salt and poured them into a hot skillet where a puddle of sweet butter was sizzling. Once the eggs had firmed up a little, I placed a row of thinly sliced Tufino down the center and folded the two sides over the cheese. A minute or so later, the cheese was oozing out the ends. Tufino is a fine melter! I rolled the omelet onto the plate, buttered some ciabatta toast, and dug in. Butter, eggs, cheese, truffles and crunch — who cares if it snows all day!
Lunchtime came and the Tufino was still on my mind. I knew it would make a fantastic toasted sandwich, but maybe it needed something else.
I had just received a gift of several packages of pre-sliced Prosciutto di San Daniele. The innovative packaging kept the perfectly sliced prosciutto tender and flavorful and easy to separate. When opened, the sweet, mellow and meaty aroma of prosciutto filled the air. I tasted a slice. It melted in my mouth with a mild, nutty, and sweet salty flavor. I had to make the sandwiches fast before I ate up the whole contents of the package of prosciutto.
I spread some white bread with softened butter on one side as my reliable old Happy Day Griddle Grill heated on the stove. I sandwiched the cheese and prosciutto between two slices of bread and placed them on the grill side with a heavy pot cover on top. They were toasted and ready to flip in just a few minutes. I turned them and gave them a a couple of minutes more until I saw the cheese beginning to seep out the sides. A few pieces of giardiniera to garnish the plate, and we were ready to eat. The panini tasted as good as they look, which is awfully good! I could see serving them cut into quarters at a party with some chilled prosecco.
February 7, 2010 No Comments
Hot Zeppole
Hot zeppole on a cold winter’s day — how could I say no? Charles and I went to Mia Dona yesterday to meet our old friends Rob and Linda for lunch and we had lots of catching up to do. Between toasting the New Year and conversation, I ordered a creamy cauliflower soup topped with a dab of bright green arugula pesto — just what I was in the mood for.
Next came grilled mahimahi with artichokes drizzled with a lemony caper sauce served with olive oil crushed potatoes. Meanwhile, Charles was just about swooning over the homemade cavatelli with meaty Sunday Ragu and a hefty chunk of pork brasciole. Since my restaurant week lunch included dessert, I opted for the limoncello cheesecake. Feelling pretty full, I was happy to share it with everyone. But the zeppole changed all that.
Donatella Arpaia, who owns Mia Dona, is an old friend and knows how much I love zeppole, and wouldn’t let us leave without some.
For me, zeppole are a reminder of Sunday nights when I was a kid. Since we always had the full on Italian American Sunday lunch experience with pasta, meat, vegetables, and usually pastry for dessert, we would typically skip dinner, or my mom would make us a little treat. I always asked for zeppole. Just before Ed Sullivan came on, she would fry up a big batch and drop them into a brown paper bag with cinnamon sugar. Then she would shake the bag until the zeppole were completely coated. The bag would get all greasy and the doughnuts, because that is what they really are, would come out crunchy with sugar and spice. We’d eat them right away, fresh and hot and light as a feather, while we watched Topo Gigio or Senor Wences.
Anyway, the zeppole at Mia Dona were quite possibly even better than my mom’s. We ate them so fast, I didn’t even get a chance to snap a picture! You will just have to go there yourself and try them.
Mia Dona is located on 58th Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues. They are open for lunch and dinner and the menu features the simple cooking of the Puglia region of Itay.
February 2, 2010 No Comments
SEEING RED
With its pointed leaves and gorgeous wine and cream color, Radicchio Trevisano seems to jump right out of the produce aisle. It is a welcome sight, especially at this time of year, when choices are limited.
Radicchio Trevisano is grown in the Veneto region of Northeastern Italy near the city of Treviso where the climate is just right for the painstaking production process. When I was in that area recently, I had the chance to visit Lucio Torresan who grows 2 types of Trevisano: the early season bullet shaped heads known as precoce, and the later curled leaf kind known as tardiva. Lucio explained that the process for growing radicchio was devised in the 19th century by a Belgian agronomist who applied techniques similar to those used for growing Belgian endive, is a member of the same botanical family. Lucio showed us how he harvests the plants, then places the bushy untrimmed bunches in shallow tubs of cold fresh water that is kept constantly circulating for between 15 and 18 days where the radicchio develops its distinctive flavor and color. Then the plants are trimmed down to their tender hearts, rinsed again and packaged for shipping.
Radicchio Trevisano is good raw in salads, and cooked in risotto, in appetizers, and as a side dish. The flavor of radicchio goes especially well with meats. At a dinner at the Ceccheto winery organized by Buon Italia, the Italian food and wine promotional organization that had organized our trip, we had a chance to sample juicy grilled sausages made with radicchio and red wine, radicchio roasted in a wrapping of pancetta, and in a mixed salad. The sausages were made by Master Macellaio (butcher) Bruno Bassetto. Bassetto is credited by the Guinness Book of World Records with having prepared the world’s longest salamella — I am not making this up– a skinny sausage that reached 7.018 meters (nearly 8 yards) in length! While we watched, Bassetto demonstrated his meat cutting skills by first breaking down a beef carcass, then chopping the beef for carpaccio with 2 scary looking butcher knives. With the carpaccio, he served a tangy and bittersweet roasted radicchio salsa that I could not wait to get home to my kitchen to try to duplicate. I serve it with grilled sausages, steak or burgers, or on toasted Italian bread.
ROASTED RADICCHIO SALSA
This is really 3 recipes in one. Make the radicchio for the salsa, or serve it plain as a side dish, or top it with a slice of Asiago and bake it a minute or so more until slightly melted for an appetizer.
Makes about 2-1/2 cups
12 ounces radicchio, preferably Trevisano
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons capers, rinsed and drained and finely chopped
2 or 3 anchovy fillets, finely chopped
1 tablespoon minced red onion
Preheat the oven to 400 F. Oil a large baking sheet.
Trim off a thin slice from the base of the radicchio. Cut the radicchio into 1-inch thick wedges through the core.
Brush the radicchio with 2 tablespoons oil and sprinkle it with salt and pepper.
Bake the radicchio for 12 minutes or until lightly browned on the bottom. Turn the pieces over and bake 8 minutes more or until nicely browned and softened. Remove from the oven.
(At this point, you can serve the radicchio warm as a side dish or appetizer, drizzled with a little balsamic vinegar.)
In a bowl, mix together the capers, anchovies and onion. When the radicchio is cool, place it on a board and chop it fine. Transfer it to the bowl and add the vinegar and season to taste with more olive oil, salt and pepper. Serve warm or at room temperature.
January 25, 2010 No Comments
The Italian Slow Cooker

A few years ago in Rome, I noticed a restaurant with a small window in its facade. In the window was a small brick alcove holding a large, round, greenish glass bottle filled with dried beans, water and herbs. The alcove backed up to the restaurant’s woodburning oven, and every time I passed, I would stop to look in at the bottle and observe the beans simmering slowly, absorbing the liquid and becoming plump and rounded and filled with flavor. It seemed like the ideal way to cook beans, but it made me unhappy to think that I could not duplicate it in my small apartment kitchen with a standard stove. Or could I? I had never owned a slow cooker, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the piece of the equipment I needed to to turn out perfectly tender, flavorful beans like those I ate in Rome. I could hardly wait to get home (well, almost!) to buy one.
Back in New York, I soon realized that slow cookers have as many devotees as they have people who own them and abandon them to a dusty back shelf. The difference seemed to be that those who love them have discovered delicious recipes and used fresh ingredients to prepare easy and satisfying food, while others relied on packaged and canned products and did not take a few moments to prepare the ingredients before cooking.
I bought a cooker and began by making my first batch of Roman-style beans in it. They came out just perfect — tender and creamy and infused with the flavor of the herbs and garlic I had added. Then I tried meats — tough cuts like short ribs, veal and lamb shanks, pot roasts, and stew meat. The results were fall-off-the-bone tender and savory. Even chicken turned out moist and juicy every time. To say I was hooked on slow cooking was an understatement. I made soups, pasta sauces, stews and vegetables. Then I tried grains like farro, barley and polenta and was delighted with the results and ease of preparation. I also made seafood in the slow cooker and discovered that sturdy varieties like salmon and squid turn out beautifully. My biggest surprise was how well the cooker handled delicate egg dishes like frittatas, and even desserts, especially creamycheesecakes and flourless chocolate cake. The gentle, low heat cooked them perfectly.

I compiled 125 of my recipes into a book which is now available. The name is The Italian Slow Cooker and it was published by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. The book has a soft cover and lots of gorgeous color photos by Alan Richardson, one of the best food photographers.
Here is a recipe from the Italian Slow Cooker that I know you will enjoy.
COUNTRY STYLE PORK RIBS WITH TOMATOES AND PEPPERS
Meaty country style pork ribs are a great choice for the slow cooker. They turn out moist and tender and never lack for flavor. Here they are cooked in spicy sauce made with red bell peppers and tomato. Serve it over polenta or mashed potatoes with zesty broccoli rabe cooked with garlic.
Serves 6
4 pounds country style pork ribs
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
2 large garlic cloves, chopped
1/2 cup dry white wine
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 cup tomato puree
1 teaspoon dried oregano
4 medium red bell peppers, seeded and cut into 1/2-inch slices
Pat the ribs dry and sprinkle them with salt and pepper to taste. In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add as many of the ribs as will fit in the pan without touching. Cook the meat, turning it occasionally, until nicely browned on all sides. Place the browned ribs in the slow cooker. Brown the remaining meat in the same way.
Add the onions and garlic to the skillet and cook 5 minutes, or until softened. Stir in the wine and tomato paste and cook, scraping the bottom of the pan, until the liquid begins to simmer. Stir in the tomato puree, oregano and salt and pepper to taste. Remove from the heat.
Scatter the peppers over the pork in the slow cooker. Pour on the sauce. Cover and cook on low for 6 hours or until the meat is tender and coming away from the bones. Discard any loose bones and skim off the fat. Serve hot.
© Copyright 2010 The Italian Slow Cooker by Michele Scicolone
January 7, 2010 4 Comments















