Apparently we didn't learn our lesson from the last outing, for we're jumping straight from one fishy pasta to another. Fortunately our aquatic friends tonight are sardines rather than anchovies, and the capers and olives are thankfully absent. A much more promising start!
I suppose the sardines wouldn't really count us as friends, would they, but we've done our best to do right by them - MSC certified tins all the way from Portugal, and very delicious they are, too.
Following on from the ease of last time, this is a very similar recipe, but it does have the added wrinkle of frying up some croutons first with a little garlic and olive oil. This is the kind of wrinkle that I'll happily accommodate.
Once the bread is nice and crispy, it's back to the old standby of frying things up and twisting them into the spaghetti.
A definite improvement on the last go-round, this one really benefits from the greasy crunch of the croutons and the milder flavour of the sardines, while the greens give it a nice touch of freshness. Super easy and no crazy ingredients means you could make this a regular standby.
The second quarter is in the books, and only five months behind schedule! Let's distract you from our punctuality woes by looking back at our favourites of the second set of 25, shall we?
Robin:
1. Stuffed pork - an unmitigated triumph in recipe, ingredients, execution and flavour. Really one of our best days in the kitchen.
2. Lamb with fried bread - putting fried bread in the actual title of the recipe is an easy way to get bonus points, I'll admit, but everything about this one was a win. Horribly unhealthy, but so much win.
3. Souffle - the one dish this quarter that we were the most nervous of, and the one that we were most pleasantly surprised by the end result. For once we were careful with a dessert, and we were well rewarded.
Christina:
1. Stuffed lamb - my new favorite meat stuffed with spinach, cheese, and pine nuts. 100% delicious.
2. Souffle - chosen as much for its technical difficulty as for its tastiness.
3. Quiche - ooey gooey cheesy bacony goodness in a pastry.
And I think we can all agree that the loser of the quarter was the ginger cake. The less said about that the better.
Onward, and at speed!
This is the first recipe in the book, but I managed to put it off for a full six months. If only I could've managed six more! I'm sure there's nothing wrong with the recipe, but when you're throwing anchovies, olives, and capers in your spaghetti, I'm not likely to be a huge fan.
What I am a fan of, though, is easy recipes. And this, for all its faulty ingredients, is crazy easy. I mean, the olives come out of the can already sliced! All we have to do is chop the tomatoes in half and mince the garlic.
Saute everything down in the pan while you're cooking the pasta, and frankly that's pretty much it.
Once the tomatoes have collapsed, the anchovies have melted, and your other destructive goals have been achieved, we're ready to serve!
Twist it all together with the spaghetti and throw some basil leaves on top, and it's as easy as that to make a classic Mediterranean supper. Just don't ask me to fully embrace it.
(The misspelling is intentional and courtesy of the numerous yet charming typos from our favorite restaurant's menu)
Okay, I have a few issues with this recipe. First, there is no such thing as an "open lasagne;" when you use lasagne noodles like spaghetti, what you get is a big mess.
Second, who uses 4-6 lasagne sheets? It leaves you with a useless amount of leftover lasagne that will probably sit in your cupboard for, oh, 5 months or so, until you finally decide to use them to make an actual lasagne, but then realize that you need to buy another box, which means you'll be in the same exact situation you started in.
Finally, anyone who can make this meal in 10 minutes as Gordon promises in his intro is a wizard.
Mmm, mushroms.
At least this recipe is easy and quick - perfect for a weeknight.
All we had to do was saute mushroms, garlic, and leeks, add stock and cream, and mix in the lasagne and some tarragon.
The finished product, in all its soupy glory:
Final verdict: Tasty, but next time use a different kind of pasta and thicken the sauce.
Bonus Round! Pictures from the editing room floor so you can appreciate the challenge of making this dish look appetizing.
Fingers crossed Gordon doesn't choose today to start following our blog!
I may be going a little crazy. Non-stop thinking about fantastic food will do that, no matter how many Vietnamese sandwiches or bowls of pesto pasta I try and distract myself with. Even a tofu banh mi from the local vegan deli is no match for Chef Ramsay and his arsenal of flavours.
I know, I know. Canned tuna? Doesn't seem to fit with our ethical positions. But hey, it's MSC certified! Doesn't get any better for seafood. Well, other than catching it yourself, but we're not quite there yet. (Side note: just watched Battle Canned Tuna on Iron Chef this afternoon, and they used the same brand! We're in good company.)
What use could Gordon find for canned tuna? Fishcakes! Which, to be fair, is a great way of hiding not-great fish. And that works for me, since I mostly hate canned tuna.
Q: What's the best kind of fishcake? A: Spicy Asian fishcake! Lots of ginger and red pepper will make even tuna delicious.
They may not be pretty, but at least they're not completely disintegrating.
What's that? A plate of fishcakes needs to be eaten? I think I'm your guy. I also think I need to take a break. Only four and a half months behind schedule now!
Quiche, flan, call it what you will. In any vernacular, it is delicious. After all, what's not to like? Eggs, pastry, cheese and a variety of scrumptious fillings? Yes please.
As ever, a bunch of flat-leaf parsley makes everything look better. Not that the wheel of pancetta needs a whole lot of help in the glamour department. Those Batalis know what they're doing.
First things first. Pastry must be made. It's nice that some things are just the same as when you learned them as a kid, even in a fancy cookbook. Pastry is butter rubbed into flour, with a touch of cold water, same as it ever was.
We don't trim our pastry here, we like the rustic look. Also, pastry is delicious, why would you not want extra?
Speaking of delicious, did I mention the pancetta? If I could reach into the screen, or back in time, this is what I would grab.
I have to admit that I approached this recipe with some trepidation because of the leek; a prejudice inherited from childhood that I was glad to exorcise. It turns out that leeks are peppery and delicious like an overgrown green onion.
Obviously sauteeing them with pancetta doesn't hurt. You could cook just about anything with this pancetta and call it a win. It really is that good.
Then into the pastry shell with everything, and pour the egg over all. Add cheese - never forget the cheese - and we're ready to bake.
Et voila! Fluffy eggy cheesy bacony goodness encased in wondrous pastry. In a surprising moment of honesty, this recipe is marked "Serves 2." Share it with more and you will hate them for taking the quiche that should by rights be yours.
Whenever a recipe calls for two heads of garlic, you know you're in a for a treat. When it's a simple salad in the middle of my marathon write-up session, well, that's just a win-win.
Sometimes it doesn't take a great deal of detective skill to work out the final product from the ingredients. If you guessed green bean salad with almonds and a honey-mustard dressing, ten points for you!
Ah, the sweet tedium of topping and tailing a kilo of green beans.
Almonds toasted...
...and green beans blanched. Our work here is almost complete. But let's not forget the most important part, that most delicious of treats...
...the roasted garlic. Just about any recipe would be better off for a judicious helping, and this one more than most. Nobody likes green beans on their own, after all.
Mix the almonds with the beans, with a judicious seasoning, and then we have but to make the dressing.
And there we have probably the least appetising picture of the year. So there's that. This is why I tend to avoid salad dressing. But in this instance, it's quite the necessary component. It does have two heads of roasted garlic in it, after all.
The end result. Crunchy, healthy-ish, not too mustardy, and in general unspeakably delicious.
We're not bakers. That has become more than clear. But the schedule was set before we knew such harsh truths, and so we continue learning the hard way. Do we improve? Perhaps. Certainly this was a much more successful effort than the sponge cake, and I don't think it's a coincidence that this recipe has no flour involved.
Can it really be baking without flour? Well, again, that's more philosophy than we have time for today. Suffice to say that with enough almonds and polenta, flour can at least take a vacation from baking, if not perhaps retire completely.
Of course, the almonds aren't quite ready out of the bag, but a quick visit to the Ninja has them in much better shape. If you squint it could look like wheat flour. Kinda.
We never really mind baking, though; even though we know the likely outcome, it's still an excuse to use the mixer. And we will take any excuse. We love this thing.
Once the butter and sugar are nice and fluffy, the eggs make their way into the mix. Let's be honest here - the mixer is doing all the work. We just feed it and get out of the way.
In with the almonds and polenta and baking powder, add some lemon juice and zest, and the batter is complete.
The paper is unsightly, but necessary.
Cooked! Overcooked? Maybe a little. Certainly overflowing, but the oven must have its tribute, I suppose.
But that's not the end of the story - it doesn't sound like much so far, after all. It needs sugar, and it needs moistness. Sounds like a case for a homemade syrup! With fresh vanilla and lemon infusing away in the sugar, suddenly this cake's prospects are looking up.
Pour it on and let it sit for as long as you're able, so that the syrup can permeate through every nook and cranny. And then, invert!
Even with the paper, kind of a disaster. They don't make greaseproof paper like they used to, apparently. Looks aren't everything, though, it's taste that carries the day - and this day belonged to the lemon polenta cake. Sweet, flavorful, with a kind of deft moistness balanced by the almost crunchy texture of the polenta. We're still not cake people, but it wouldn't take much persuading to bring this out on special occasions.
Astute readers - and let's be honest, if you're here then you're probably in that category - will have noticed (possibly with alarm) that the calendar has now turned to November and we have but 40 of our 100 recipes posted. The good news is that we're on schedule as far as cooking goes. The bad news is that we're five months behind on the blog. So! Today I'm sitting down and typing until my fingers bleed. Quantity is the order of the day; quality may be a casualty. Fortunately we have an easy beginning: beans on toast.
Of course, by beans on toast I mean cannellini crostini, but let's call a spade a spade, shall we? This is not a complicated recipe.
Step 1: toast the bread. Harder than it sounds on our sad little stove. There was a fair amount of smoke.
Step 2: heat and smash the beans. Stir in the olives, vinegar and parsley - and season like your life depends on it. As Chef put it, the beans "are rather bland on their own, so they need plenty of help." Which raises the question of why bother using them, but no time for philosophising today!
Step 3: put beans on toast! Scatter anchovies, and serve. On the whole, fairly tasty. Certainly easy - if toasting bread is the hardest part then there can't be too much to worry about. If you find yourself with a spare can of cannellini beans lying around, you could do far worse.
