Sunday Dinner Series Part VI: Totally Non-Polish Perogies

Hooray for the iPhone!! Without it, I'd be very bored sitting here in the Winnipeg airport without my library eBooks, Facebook, email, Skype, Words with Friends, etc etc. and now Blogger!! Hooray! Flight delay entertainment? There's an app for that!

Perogies are a big thing in Winnipeg. I've been good-naturedly teased about buying frozen Cheemos from Superstore when there are so many great local, handmade offerings. These pillowy pockets seem to be a staple at big family meals here, even if there isn't a drop of Eastern European blood sitting around the table.

Despite defending my frozen, mass produced varieties, I felt the need to see if I could make a decent perogies from scratch (and nobody criticize my spelling... This is how I've ALWAYS spelled it. You people and your kubasa... I'll never understand). Turns out, I can!! I got the recipe here.

I did doctor the filling somewhat, keeping Hubs in mind. I added a seeded, chopped jalapeño when cooking the onions. I also fried, cooled and chopped some top-of-the-line PC double-smoked bacon. Heaven, people.

I will admit, all the hassle didn't seem worth it in the beginning. I had a hard time rolling the dough to a consistent thickness, so some were more doughy than others. Also, the dough seemed a bit tough (not tender and pillowy) the first time around. This actually improved after freezing... I stored a batch and cooked them later in the week and was much happier.

So would I do it again? Meh, maybe, if only to fool around with the filling some more. Otherwise, how can you beat a jumbo variety pack on sale for $3.99??

Feeling her Winnipeg (and food blogger) cred slipping away,
-Honeybee

Sunday Dinner Series Part IV: Hot Diggity Clam!

There seems to be a direct relationship between the number of parts in this series and the lameness of the title puns.  But we soldier on!

In case I've never clearly laid it out before, I'm Italian on my mother's side (Nonna and Nonno immigrated to Canada in the early 1950s, I believe), and French and Irish on my father's side.  It's been at least seven generations since my ancestors left, however, so I was never really exposed to many "traditional" French or Irish dishes in my formative years (though my sister Sar got her fill of the latter over the past little while... mmm, pudding and Irish breakfast).  Regardless, there are still certain meals that I associate with my paternal family and tradition.  One of these was New England clam chowder and freshly-baked biscuits.

As a kid, I wasn't in love with eating soup containing bivalves.  But as my palate has matured, I can't help but look back and think of how much I missed as a child, eating Lipton or Campbell's chicken soup while the adults feasted on THIS.

I'd still eat the biscuits, of course.

Many years have passed, and I'm now married to a wonderful man who loves shellfish of any sort.  I can't remember the first time I made this for him... it might have been a joint effort with my lovely friend Kimmi (her hubs also loves clam chowder... you should've seen how happy he was when he found it at a Chinese buffet!)  At any rate, he is an avid fan of my mom's old standby recipe for chowder and biscuits.  It's a delicious meal, to be sure... and it also has enough fat to nicely round you out and keep the cold Winnipeg winds out of your bones!  Ah well, it was never a weekly thing anyway... just a nice hearty "special occasion, Grandma and Grandpa are coming over to play bridge!" meal.

In the making!

Ready for its close-up.

New England Clam Chowder

Adapted slightly from the Women's Day Encyclopedia of Cookery (circa 1970, I think...)

Makes about 3 quarts, says the recipe... about 12 cups, says I.  It'll feed 6 people well.

• 3 cans (10.5 oz each) minced clams
• Water
• 1/2 lb bacon, diced
• 1 large white onion, chopped
• 3 cups diced raw potato (I usually use red potatoes and leave the skins on)
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp ground pepper
• 4 cups (1 L) homogenized milk (3.25% milk fat, I believe)
• 2 Tbsp butter
• Paprika

1.  Strain canned clams and reserve the liquid.
2. Measure clam liquid; add water to top up to 4 cups.
3. Fry bacon in a large pot until golden and crisp.  Remove and drain on paper towels and reserve.
4. Drain off bacon fat, leaving behind about a 1/4 cup.  Add onion and sauté for 5 minutes.
5. Add potato, salt, pepper, and clam liquid.  Simmer until potatoes are tender.
6. Add clams, milk, and butter.  Reheat but do not boil.
7. Top with crisp bacon and sprinkle with paprika.  Serve with biscuits.

Seriously, do as I say and serve with biscuits.

Biscuits: all the cool kids are doing it!

Cloud Biscuits

Courtesy of our honourary Aunt Kim, from out East (that's how you know they're legit)

Makes about a dozen regular-sized biscuits... only six if you make massive square ones like I did.

• 2 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
• 1 Tbsp sugar (increase to 1/2 cup sugar for sweeter biscuits worthy of strawberry shortcake)
• 4 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 cup vegetable shortening (you can use lard, if you have some that needs using... ;))
• 1 egg, beaten
• 2/3 cup milk
• Optional: 1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese and/or 2 green onions, trimmed and sliced finely

1. Preheat oven to 350ºF.
2. Sift together dry ingredients; cut in shortening until mixture resembles coarse crumbs (a pastry blender, fork, or two butter knives works well here).
3. Combine egg and milk; add to flour mixture all at once.  Stir.
4. Add "optional extras" if using.  Stir until dough follows the fork around the bowl (i.e. until just combined).
5. Pat or roll dough out on lightly floured surface until about 1/2 inch thick.  Dip a biscuit cutter into flour and cut straight down into the dough.  Put biscuits onto a baking sheet sprayed with non-stick spray.
6. Bake on the middle rack of the oven for about 8-12 minutes.  Keep an eye on them-- you might need to use a spatula to lift them up and see how dark the bottoms are getting.  They should be a good golden-brown- not too light, but not burnt either (I've been guilty of this).  The tops should look dry, with no wet uncooked dough in evidence.
7. Cool slightly (if you can wait that long) and serve warm.

Note the colour of the bottoms!

Nom nom nom.  Good for a Sunday dinner, plus lunch AND repeat dinner on Monday! Yes, I baked fresh biscuits the next day... they really don't take long to come together!

Sorry for the blurriness... I think this is about the last of my Cannon photography.  From here on out, I'll mostly be using my iPhone 4 camera-- it does a FANTASTIC job of taking food shots!

Now, if you've made it with me this far and are still thinking, "Ugh, clams... can't do it, Honeybee, sorry!" then I have a good modification for you.  Instead of three cans of clams, try using three cans of tuna packed in water instead.  You can even reserve the tuna liquid in the same way as the clam liquid; just make sure to test for saltiness before you add more salt in step 5.  Even if you're still against the whole seafood thing (I'm looking at you, Sher), you can make this without the fish.  Try using chicken stock in place of the fish juice + water, and add more potatoes for a lovely bacon potato chowder.  Maybe add some corn to the mix.  It's versatile!  Even better, it will warm you up from head to toe as the mercury (or more accurately these days, coloured alcohol) drops!

Off to curl up with her Nonna blanket while reminiscing about dinners with Grandma and Grandpa,
-Honeybee



P.S.- This trip down memory lane seems like a great opportunity to show off one of my favourite shots from the wedding:

My seesters, helping me put on Grandma's pearls for the big day... but what's that?  The clam chowder aficionados are watching over us, just to the right of my shoulder!  Cute little Easter egg... funny the details you notice after the fact!  Also funny how something as simple as chowder can remind you of loved ones and simpler times.  Miss you, Grandma and Grandpa!

Sunday Dinner Series Part III: Where's the Beef?

Blah blah work married life busy blah.  Back to the food in general, and the Sunday Dinner Series in particular!

Unseasonably warm weather aside, it's still winter here in Manitoba.  For me, that means finding the heartiest food possible and tucking in.  Warming from the inside out, if you will.  I can only fathom how the voyageurs survived the cold season all those years ago... though I'm pretty sure pot roast (or something like it) would've come into play.

He Ho!

"Roast beef dinner" is definitely a Honeybee family tradition.  In recent years, however, I've come to realize that while it does involve roasted beef, it doesn't necessarily fit most people's idea of "roast beef".  This is really more a pot roast, with lots and lots of veggies.

I had been perusing my new favourite cooking tome, and found not one, but TWO recipes for "perfect pot roast" (don't ask me how that works... how can they BOTH be perfect?  Meh).  At first, I thought I would follow the recipe exactly, especially since there was never really a recipe for Mom's roast.  But about halfway through, her voice started creeping into my head.  "What, no onion soup mix?  Are you really only going to use a half cup of wine?  What do you mean, no roasted carrots on the side?!"  Telepathic-mom was absolutely right.  What was I doing??  Why mess with what I know I like??  So, I started ignoring the book (Hubs would be proud) and started doing my own thing.  I've done it again since the first "hybrid recipe" attempt, with good results.  If you want to try it out for yourself, have a look here:

Lil's Sunday Pot Roast

Sort of adapted from The Complete America's Test Kitchen TV
Show Cookbook... for the first bit, at least.

Serves four, with leftovers

• 1 boneless beef roast (like a chuck-eye roast), about 3-5 lb*
• ~2 Tbsp canola oil
• Salt & pepper
• 1 small white onion, chopped medium
• 2 ribs celery, chopped medium
• 1 carrot, peeled and chopped medium
• 2 cloves of garlic, minced
• 2 tsp sugar
• 1 tsp thyme
• 1 bottle of red wine (some for cooking, some for drinking... so pick a decent one!)
• 1/2 package onion soup mix
• 1 large red onion, peeled, trimmed and cut into large chunks
• 4-6 red potatoes (depending on size), scrubbed and cut into large chunks
• 1 head of garlic, peeled
• 3-4 carrots, peeled and cut into large chunks
• 1 sweet potato, peeled and cut into large chunks
• Cornstarch (for gravy thickening)

*I didn't realize that I bought a bone-in roast.  So, at about 8 am on a Sunday, I gave myself a crash-course in deboning.  It was messy.  Hence the butcher twine... better now!  My apologies to any vegetarian readers... but in all honesty, having to deal with that aspect of food prep made me consider a plant-based diet myself!

1. Preheat the oven to 300ºF.
2. In a Dutch oven or other oven-safe pot, heat the oil over high heat until shimmering.
3. Prep your roast.  If it's a sort of large ungainly piece of meat, use butcher's twine to tie it up into a nice uniform loaf shape.  Using paper towels, pat it dry.  Season liberally with salt and pepper.
4. Sear the roast on all sides in the hot pot (I like using my Le Creuset for this, since it can also go in the oven.  Less dishes, yay!)  Once well browned on all sides, remove the roast to a plate.  Turn the heat down to medium.
5. Toss the white onion, celery, and medium-chopped carrot into the roast pot.  Cook until the veggies soften and start to brown.  Add the garlic and sugar; cook and stir for about 30 seconds until fragrant.  Add the thyme.
6. Pour in a generous amount of red wine to deglaze; be sure to scrape up all the delicious brown bits on the bottom of the pot (I honestly just free-pour.  It's probably about a cup to a cup and a half of wine that I use.  FLAVOUR.)
7. Add the roast (and any juices it's leaked) back to the pot.  Sprinkle the 1/2 package of onion soup mix over it.  Add enough water to the pot to bring the liquid halfway up the roast.
8. Bring the roast + liquid up to a simmer.  Fit the lid tightly over the roast (I usually put a sheet of foil in there for a good seal).  Put in the oven.
9. Bake for 2-2 1/2 hours, turning the roast over every 1/2 hour.
10. At the 2-2 1/2 hour mark, add the veggies (potato, sweet potato, whole garlic cloves, red onion).  If things look a bit dry, add more wine.
11. Bake for another hour or so, until the veggies and meat are fully tender (poke them with a fork- if the fork slides in and out easily, you're golden).
12. Take the roast out and let it sit on a carving board, tented under the foil you used earlier, until you're done the gravy.
13. With a slotted spoon, remove all the veggies from the pot to a serving bowl.  Try to leave behind as much juice as possible.
14. If there are still a lot of "chunks" in the gravy, take an immersion blender and whiz it up a bit.  On the stovetop, put the pot on medium heat and simmer the gravy down until it thickens and reduces somewhat.  Scoop out some of the hot proto-gravy with a ladle into a mug.  Add a tablespoon or so of cornstarch and whisk well.  Add back to the whole pot of gravy (this is how you can avoid getting lumps).  Repeat until desired consistency of gravy is reached!
15. Carve your roast.  I'm not going to lie, I can never get nice "slices" like my Dad does.  So we just sort of end up with large tender meat chunks.  Nobody complains.
16. Serve the roasted veg and beef with the gravy.  A loaf of fresh bread is especially nice here, to spread the roasted whole garlic cloves on like butter.  BUTTER, I tell you.

Starting the sear.

Almost done searing... look at all that brown-bit flavour on the bottom!

The bowl of delicious vegetables, pre-cooking.  Looks so pretty with all those vibrant colours...

Meat chunks!

Roast veg.  Not the prettiest bowl, but oh man, the flavours in here are not to be believed.

Dinner with Hubs (he's wearing his 'Polar bear in a snowstorm' Winnipeg shirt!).  Observe the fresh-baked bread, with roasted garlic clove spread.  It's a whole delicious meal, in one pot!  Make sure you get that red wine on the table, too.

So overall, the pot roast doesn't look like anything special.  It's certainly not haute cuisine.  Presentation's not great.  But let me tell you, this was the ONLY way to finish off a day of skating on the trails at The Forks.  It was also a great dinner to share with Deb, which gave me an excuse to attempt challah for the first time (more on that another day!)

Digging through the archives and continuing to cook (and photograph) up a storm,
-Honeybee

Sunday Dinner Series

Ahh, the adjustment to married life continues.  Not that it's a big adjustment, mind you, but it does give me an excuse to cook up some dinners that take a little extra time, thought, and love.  This was a rare occurrence when I was living alone, but now that Hubs is here, it seems appropriate to lay the groundwork for a well-loved tradition: Sunday dinner.

Sundays were very important days in my house growing up.  Of course, the day would start bright and early with a Roman Catholic service.  Once we were old enough to not throw hissy fits in the store, this would be immediately followed by grocery shopping, since the large grocery store was across the street from our church.  I have some great memories of food shopping with the family, which eventually turned into waving hello from behind the deli counter as I rushed to work at the store immediately following mass.

Just had to include a shout-out to St. Paul's, even though my old elementary school next door is now a pharmacy...

It was a rare Sunday where we didn't make a special dinner (or "lupper", as my dad usually calls it, since we typically ate around 2-3 pm).  Nonna would often be invited over to dine with us as well.  Things like pot roasts with root vegetables, homemade egg-based pasta or gnocchi with meatballs and long-simmered sauce, beef stew, oven-roasted chicken pieces in some sort of delicious sauce, or barbecued ribs or pork loin in the summer would be the typical fare.  It wasn't just the food that was important, though... it was the sense of togetherness and family.

So, now that I've officially started our own little family, I'm finding that I'm gravitating towards a similar tradition in our one-bedroom apartment.  Our dear friend/neighbor Deb often fills the role of Nonna, coming over to share with us and visit.  The past few weeks, I've really enjoyed my Sunday creations... enter the Sunday Dinner Series on A Weekend, In Food!

Part I: Can't Beet This!

Blame my father for my terrible puns.  I'm just a product of my environment.

Manitoba.  Beets.  They're kind of a "thing" here.  I've seen them on all sorts of upscale restaurant menus: in hummus, on burgers, etc.  I honestly didn't really grow up eating them.  I do remember trying the pickled variety at one point, but they weren't a staple.  I saw some lovely local bunches at the market, and couldn't resist trying them.  I'd heard that they became very sweet when roasted, so I followed this recipe from Allrecipes.com to give it a shot. 

"Breadmaker bread", on the other hand, WAS a staple for Sunday dinners.  I can distinctly remember filling up the machine's "pail" with all the necessary ingredients and lugging it downstairs.  Magically, some hours later, bread emerged.  To a 12-year-old, this is pretty amazing.  My grandmother always marveled at how much we loved it, hot from the appliance, commenting, "you seem to like it so much that you don't even put butter on it!"  True enough.  The fresh flavour was all we needed.  I bought a breadmaker from a yard sale for a bank-breaking five dollars... and produced this lovely half-white, half-whole-wheat loaf to accompany our dinner.  I think the recipe produced a bit too much dough for my machine, though, as you can see by the "mushroom top" loaf that resulted.  I didn't have any bread flour, so I used 2 cups of all-purpose and 1 cup of whole wheat flour in this (again, Allrecipes.com) recipe.  Good results overall, and very simple to pull off.

Now what to do for the main?  Pork tenderloin has become a pretty frequent Sunday dinner star.  Now, I love my father to the very depths of my heart.  Really.  But his PTs are frequently seasoned with his special "rub"... which I'm convinced consists of a generous dumping of every spice and herb in the rack.  Even those that might not...err... "play nicely" together on the palate.  I will admit, though, that it forms a good, functional crust on the meat when he grills it on the barbecue.  Being 'cue-less, and preferring time-honoured combinations like oregano, garlic, and olive oil on my pork, I followed this recipe to make both roasted potatoes and a Mediterranean-inspired oven roasted pork tenderloin, with delicious results.  Three-for-three for Allrecipes.com!  It's becoming a good friend for hearty, down-home flavour ideas.

Mmm, pork.  A little bit pink in the middle, just the way I like it... which is PERFECTLY SAFE by today's swine-rearing standards.

Wondering what I did with the roasted beets?  I tossed them with mixed greens and feta, then drizzled with an olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt & pepper vinaigrette.  Hello salad course!!

A delicious plate overall.

I'm really hoping that nice Sunday dinners become a tradition in our family, especially as it expands (NOT YET!) with children.  Even though our lives aren't super-hectic at the moment, it's still nice to set aside time to sit down and really enjoy a nice, well-prepared meal that takes a bit more effort than our standard weeknight stir-frys and pastas.  Stay tuned for further installations of the Sunday Dinner Series, and let me know how I'm doing!!

Part professional, part aspiring household/gastronomic goddess, I remain,
-Honeybee

Farewell to summer

 Though we had a bit of a reprieve today, the weather in Winnipeg has definitely taken a turn towards fall.  Last week, I really wanted something summer-worthy.  Something to remind me of simple dinners at home when it was too hot to really cook.  Or dinners out at the campground using produce bought at the little vegetable stands along the highway.  Can you tell I'm a bit homesick?

Sorry, I got a bit photo-happy with these...

I managed to convince Hubs to come out to the St. Norbert Farmers' Market with me last weekend.  It was a little bit crowded for his liking, but he at least experienced enough to agree with my assessment regarding the perogies.  We ended picking up some beets, corn, potatoes, tomatoes, and fudge.  I really liked the selection of beautiful low-acid yellow tomatoes, and decided to use them in this simple-but-scrumptious salad my mom makes frequently.  It's not even a salad so much as an assembly- sliced tomatoes at the peak of the season, topped with crumbled feta, a drizzle of olive oil, and a splash of balsamic vinegar.  A little fresh cracked pepper rounds it out.  You could add chopped fresh basil, too, but I didn't have any.  Ah well, c'est la vie.

Mum would usually serve this alongside a delicious zucchini fritatta (which I did earlier in the week for a quick supper, thanks to the squash-growing skills of my coworker Terri).  Today, though it went along with a fish-fry supper:

Boiled sweet corn on the cob, blackened red snapper (recipe here), hashbrowns, and pan-fried beet greens with garlic.

Now about those hashbrowns.  My grandmother used to make this "potato pancake" of sorts by adding grated potato to butter in a frying pan.  I don't think there was ever a hard-and-fast recipe.  I do mine by grating potato, then squeezing as much excess water out as I can by hand.  This time, I shredded half an onion in for good measure (it needed to be used up).  I season it with salt and pepper and press it into a small frying pan with a good amount of butter (more goes on top, too, to melt in).  Flip once it's browned and crispy on one side.  It's sort of like the hashbrowns at Waffle House.  Grandma liked to serve it with breaded pan-fried Lake Erie yellow perch; my mom does the same.  Mmm.

As much as I love having Hubs here, sometimes you just need to feel close to your other loved ones.  Can I be blamed for doing it through food?  As it turned out, my mom made a very similar dinner the same night that we had this.  Great minds, I tell ya.

Wishing she could get truly amazing (read: Ontario) tomatoes all year round,
-Honeybee

Let me try to think up the best thing ever...

...beef...stew.**

Since returning to the 'Peg after being in Windsor for holidays, I can't deny that I've had pangs of homesickness.  I'm pretty happy and comfy here, don't get me wrong... but it's not home.  Pretty normal emotions, I'm sure... but they drove me to making some very homey beef shortrib stew that's been a winter staple in the Honeybee family home for decades.

Mmm.  Beefy.

This somewhat spicy, flavourful, melt-in-your-mouth stew recipe originally came from my dear Aunt Doris (who is not at all related, however we love her like an aunt nonetheless.  She had the good fortune (?) to marry my father's best friend, the ever-hilarious Uncle John).  It may take a bit of time to prepare, but I promise you, braising the meat in the oven for the recommended length of time is SO worth it.  Here's some more pictures, and the recipe.  I highly suggest this for chasing away the cold February winter blues.

I thought the different spices and sauces that go into this recipe made a nice splash of colour in the measuring cup.

Fried beef and onions... how can you go wrong??

 Beef Shortrib Stew

Recipe from Doris Gagnier.  Additions/substitutions by me.

Makes 6 servings as presented here, I'd say.  I cut the recipe by 1/3 for myself. 

• 3 Tbsp fat (I think I used olive oil, but you're free to use anything: butter, lard, beef fat, etc)
• 3 lb short ribs (To be honest, we don't use actual short ribs typically.  We buy packages of pre-cubed "stewing beef".  These tend to be relatively cheap and work just as well.  Plus, no bones!)
• 3 medium onions, sliced
• 1 cup ketchup
• ½ cup vinegar
• 1 Tbsp curry powder
• 1 Tbsp paprika
• ¼ Tbsp chili powder (I would increase this to at LEAST a 1/2 Tbsp for some nice warm heat)
• 1 Tbsp brown sugar
• 1 cube beef boullion in 1 cup boiling water (I used just 1 cup of tetra-pak beef stock)
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/8 tsp pepper
• ½ tsp dried mustard (if you really don't have any, you can sub prepared Dijon mustard)

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF.
2. Brown ribs/stewing beef cubes in fat over medium heat.  Remove to plate, reserving fats in the pan.
3. Sautée the onions in the remaining beef fat/oil until softenend.  Place beef and onions in an oven-proof dish (I used a Corningware dish with a lid)
4. Mix the remaining ingredients well to make the sauce.  Pour over the beef and onions.
5. Bake at least two hours; the longer, the better.  I baked mine covered with the glass lid on the dish.
6. Serve over mashed potatoes, with steamed veggies.

Look at all that caremelized beef-and-onion goodness.  I have to admit, though, it does make the crockery difficult to clean afterwards.  Totally worth it.

I sort of wished I had a trencher instead of a plate... here I'm enjoying my meal in the company of George R.R. Martin's epic fantasy series, A Song of Ice and Fire.  The first book is A Game of Thrones, which my loving family gave me (along with the second and third books) for my birthday.  The beef stew fits in perfectly with the rustic, hearty medieval fare served at Winterfell.

A very tasty plate.

Now, I know this is very appealing to the meat-and-potatoes crowd.  I've never really thought of stew as anything else.  However, thanks to some puttering around on Foodnetwork.ca, my tune has changed.

Well that looks different... is there even any meat in there??  No?  Huh!!

Thanks to Bal Arneson, the lovely self-titled Spice Goddess, I was able to execute this delicious, protein-packed kidney bean stew.  Definitely different from the beef stew, but also remarkably delicious, and a nice winter stew option for those who don't eat meat.

I did make a few changes to the recipe.  I'm not a huge fan of fenugreek (and consequently, didn't have any on hand), so I omitted it.  All my spices are pre-ground, so I just toasted the powder for a few seconds at the beginning.  I didn't have red kidney beans, just white, so I missed out on some of the lovely garnet colours, but c'est la vie.  I was just happy to find another application for the tamarind paste taking up space in my fridge!  Overall this stew was bright, imaginative, and flavourfully spiced without being hot-spicy.  Give this one a try... it may seem unconventional (oranges in a stew?!), but it's worth the gamble.

February in the 'Peg has been very fickle so far... first it's -40ºC, then it's a balmy plus two.  I don't understand what's going on here!!  All I know is I've been teased into thinking that spring is around the corner... but I'm trying to heed my coworkers' warnings of huge snowstorms in April.  Eek!  I guess I'll keep these stew recipes around a bit longer...

Thinking that groundhog shadow-sightings have nothing to do with meteorlogical patterns in Manitoba,
-Honeybee

(**Apologies: the title and first line of this post is a semi-inside joke from this now-obscure web cartoon.  An oldie, but a goodie.  Brings be back to the early 2000s... sigh...)

Pasta procrastination: Masters-level gnocchi lessons

There's nothing like an impending deadline to make you want to do something completely unrelated to the task at hand.  Things for me have gotten busy busy busy these past few weeks.  Four out of five weeknights are occupied with either American Sign Language class (I graduated to ASL 102!  Yay!) or a study group for the American Board of Genetic Counselors certification exam (daunting, but necessary for my career).

Given these time gobblers, you'd think I'd focus my efforts on them... but here I sit, snuggled with the cats on a Sunday morning, wanting nothing more than to tell you all about my deep history with gnocchi. This is a combination of an intense instructional session with my mother and Nonna while I was home for the holidays, followed by my own solo attempts back in the 'Peg.  This will truly be a post in pictures... enjoy!!

Wait, this isn't gnocchi!  Traditionally, in our house, gnocchi is served with a tomato sauce, meatballs, and sausages.  I have NEVER been able to perfect the light-as-a-cloud, cheesy, meaty, flavourful meatball morsels that my mother and Nonna seem to have mastered.  I was watching Mom like a hawk when she mixed these up.  Here they are, pan-frying on all sides before being added to the sauce to simmer.

Mommy!!  :D  Gotta keep those meatballs rollin'.  Apparently, the secret to the meatballs is a combination of ground beef, pork, and veal.  Mix that with more dry breadcrumbs (frozen, grated hot dog buns work even better), eggs, and grated Parmesan cheese than you think is truly necessary.  Salt, pepper, garlic, Worcestershire sauce, dried herbs (oregano, basil, parsley), and you're done.  Don't ask me for proportions, I know none.  I was trying to learn "the feel" to know when the mixture is right.

...aaaaand let's not kid ourselves.  This is how WE roll, making meatballs or otherwise.  Red for my warm, big-hearted, passionate mom... and crisp, simple, clean white for me.  Oh, and meatballs.  I'm a little sad that you can't make out the time on the stove clock... I'm pretty sure it's still shy of noon.

 Mom, still hard at work with the meat, with my "liddle brudder" Al in the background.  In internet circles, this is what's commonly known as "photobombing".  And you thought you'd only learn food-related tidbits here...

Sausages.  Now, I have to be completely honest.  I'm not the hugest fan of pork.  I tend to reach for the meatballs more than the sausages... luckily other family members seem to feel the opposite way, so it all evens out.  These sausages were made specially with sauce in mind (and of course, yes, they're homemade).  My dad added some pork skin to them, which adds some delicious flavour (aka fat) to the sauce.  Not that I'm complaining in the slightest, you understand.

Starting on the sauce now, by mixing some home-canned crushed tomatoes into the delicious leftover brown bits and oils from frying the meatballs.  That's flavour in there, can't let it go to waste.  A significant amount of wine makes an appearance, too.

Alright, the sauce is happily bubbling away, with lots of crushed tomatoes, the meatballs and sausages, and a carrot cut into wedges (part of the secret!  It helps sweeten the sauce).  Now onto the gnocchi dough!!  About one potato per person, boiled until cooked through, then peeled and thoroughly mashed (traditionally we use a potato ricer).  Add to that about one egg for every six potatoes (I think we were making 12 servings here...), and about 1/2 cup of cake and pastry flour per person (add more as needed to form a light dough that's just a little bit sticky/tacky still).  Knead well.

Needing to knead.  I know, terrible pun.  I'm my father's daughter, what can I say??

Let's check on how that sauce is doing.  Yup, bubbling away happily, with meat pieces and carrots bobbing about.  I know this looks quite liquid-y at the moment... it will boil down and condense further (though, to be honest, I've always found our gnocchi sauces to be a little further on the liquid side than thick, Prego-esque sauces)

Mmm.  Rolled gnocchi.  You roll out the dough to about 1/2" thickness, then cut into long strips and roll the strips in flour.  Then, the strips get cut up crosswise into little cubes.  These cubes get rolled along the tines of a fork to create that little ridged, curled pattern.  Yes, it's a little time-consuming to hand-roll every piece of pasta, but it's SO worth it.

Don't they look awesome?!  And so old-world, with that pot and glass of wine next to them...

MEATBALLS.  Done.  They've been steeped in the delicious sauce, exchanging flavours, for a few hours now.

Meatballs, sausage, and NONNA!!!  I love this woman more than words can possibly express.  All we know about gnocchi, we learned from her.  I have the fondest memories of helping her roll noodles in her kitchen at a tender young age, for a special-occasion meal like a birthday... and being scolded for "snitching" pieces of raw dough.  It's just so good!!!

Sauce, sans meat products, reducing down a bit more.  Looks good, doesn't it??  The little flecks in it are bits of meat from particularly tender sausages/meatballs that sort of disintegrated into the tomato goodness.

Cooking off the gnocchi... they're such cute little floating dumplings!!!

The finished product, in an absolutely enormous pasta bowl, sprinkled over with Parmesan cheese (or was it Romano?  I can't remember.  Whatever it was, it was good).

Gratuitous close-up... tender little potato pasta dumplings, fresh, light-tasting tomato sauce, and savoury meatballs.  What more could you want??

Ah yes!  THIS is what's missing.  An amazing family to share the meal with.  From bottom right: Papa, Sar (purposely hiding because she was feeling sick and pale), my BFF Kiks, Nonna, Ma, and Hubs :D  That empty spot is for me!

Alright, so that was the training program.  Don't get me wrong, I've made gnocchi before... in a manner of speaking.  I think my former roommates can attest that former attempts have not exactly been... stellar.  I'm remembering trying to make these in my suite-style dorm in first year... the potatoes weren't cooked thoroughly, so there were little pieces of half-raw potato in the noodles.  Not good eats.  Sorry again, Laur and Chaddy!!!!

Having suffered these past failures, however, has given me even more drive to start improving (eventually perfecting?) my gnocchi and meatballs.  My goal is to reach a Nonna-level of expertise... let's call that a gnocchi PhD.  My mom has most definitely achieved her Master of Gnocchi degree, and is just a hair's breadth away from graduating with her doctorate.  I, however, have only a measly Bachelors of Gnocchi.  Time to hit the "books"... or forks, as the case may be.  I am bound and determined to one day be an adorable little Nonna, making perfect gnocchi for my grandchildren (though I think I've yet to meet a Nonna who stands 5'9"... maybe I'll shrink).  Better start practicing!

The following are from my gnocchi attempt earlier this month, as a big thank-you to Jess for breaking out her tailor's tools and measuring me for my wedding dress.  There's still room for improvement, but it was by FAR the best attempt I've made so far.  I'd better just keep at it!

Mmm... my meatballs.  A few slight changes here: I couldn't find ground veal at my local Superstore.  So, I made do with just ground beef and ground pork.  I do have to admit... some of the surfaces on these puppies are bordering on burnt.  However, I'm happy to say that the softening effect of the acids in the tomato sauce made these MORE than edible.

This may be my favourite picture of 2011 so far.  I've set it as my desktop picture, no word of a lie.  I adore how my south-facing sliding doors let in the natural sunlight on a Sunday morning...

Rolled gnocchi, basking in the sun.  I don't have a potato ricer, so I had to make do with a masher and an immersion blender... I think I did a thorough-enough job, though.

The rolling implement.  Some people just cut the gnocchi into cubes and boil them off... I can't bear the thought of it.  With Nonna, we'd experiment with rolling the gnocchi on different surfaces (the four sides of a box grater, a clean woven wicker basket) to make neat patterns.

My sauce + meatballs + carrot, bubbling away happily.  You can already see how much it's reduced- just look at the markings along the sides of the pot.  I had to use No Name whole canned tomatoes and crushed tomatoes to make this sauce, as I didn't have any of the home-canned Nonna variety to use.  Sadness.

Not gnocchi... just a fun up-close shot of the Greek-esque salad I made to accompany the gnocchi.  It's baby spinach, Roma tomatoes, red onion, cucumber, feta cheese, and fresh dill, tossed in a dressing made from olive oil, oregano, lemon juice, garlic, and a splash of feta brine.  Mmm.

Analogous to the large bowl of tossed pasta and accompanying meatballs on the side.  I forgot to sprinkle with cheese, though.

The whole shebang.  Don't worry, I was measured for my dress BEFORE tucking into this "feastival", as dad would say.

So my criticisms for this Masters defense project?  My gnocchi were a little too large, and quite dense and firm.  I'm not sure if the latter was a factor of me kneading the dough too much or too long, or adding too much flour, or what.  They were still good, don't get me wrong... but they lacked the tenderness of Ma and Nonna's efforts.  No matter... just gives me an excuse to keep trying.  Hubs was quite jealous when he heard that Jess and Kyle (by way of a doggie bag) got to eat this deliciousness, so I'm sure he'd welcome a repeat performance.

My only other complaint about this attempt?  I was, in hindsight, rapidly coming down with a cold while preparing and eating this meal.  I had to have Jess taste the sauce for me, to ensure that it was nicely seasoned and balanced before tossing it with the noodles.  All that work, just to be thwarted by impaired taste buds... disappointing.  Yet another point in favour of attempting these again, and soon.

I'll leave you with one last interesting tidbit: I had no idea, until my laagm (loving aunt and godmother) sent me a Wall Street Journal article, that gnocchi was so popular in South America.  There, it's called "ñoquis", and they have a whole set of folklore surrounding it.  I thoroughly enjoyed reading this food writer's battle to make the perfect ñoquis for her husband- I hope you enjoy it, too!

With visions of potato dumplings dancing in my head, I remain,
-Honeybee