Today I dreamt of Italy. Perhaps it was the bright sun streaming through my window, or the unseasonably warm day which had me longing for terra cotta roofs, cypress trees, sunflowers, red wine and above all else--pasta. Not the boxed kind of pasta that you can buy in a normal market. Not the hard, uniformly shaped pasta which needs to be cooked for minutes on end until you can cut your teeth through the noodles. I was longing for the fresh, hand made pasta, created with a little mixture of flour and water and perhaps an egg (depending on who is making the pasta). The kind that melts in your mouth, and needs little more than a roasted tomato and some extra virgin olive oil drizzled on top, and perhaps a few sprigs of basil for aesthetics (and aroma-I cannot resist the smell of fresh basil).
Of course, I am no where near Italy, and as much as I may desire, I can not manage a trip there right now. Although, in my day dreams today, I had chucked everything in my life to move to Florence and become an apprentice in pasta making (if you are a master pasta chef in Florence and need an apprentice, PLEASE call me!). In order to satisfy my cravings, and linger in Italy a little longer in my mind, I strolled over to a local Italian market where I bought some fresh pasta, broccoli rabe, vine ripened tomatoes, and cannellini beans, among other things. I did not have any particular recipe in mind, I just grabbed what looked delicious as I passed through the narrow aisles littered with people, perhaps dreaming the same dream I was consumed in?
Upon reaching home, I played an Italian opera, poured myself a glass of red wine and began my mental culinary trip to Italy. I digress for one moment to the opera music. When I was visiting Greece last year, I lunched with a couple whose profession it was to teach and perform music. I arrived at their little villa which sat on a cliff overlooking water that appeared to have been mixed with dye the colors of royal blue and turquoise. To the left of the white villa was a beautiful garden filled with flowers in reds and pinks and whites. The breeze was blowing slightly as we walked through the front door. Upon entering, opera music overtook you and the host practically glided around the kitchen to the melodic tune as he constructed our luncheon. Today, on my imaginary trip to Italy, I felt that a recreation of that sensation in my mind would only be appropriate.
The above meal is the creation I came up with. In case you cannot spare the travel time and want to take an imaginary trip to Italy yourself, the recipe is below:
1 bunch broccoli rabe
1 can cannellini beans
fresh linguine or fettucini
2 vine ripened tomatoes
5 cloves of garlic, minced
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper
sea salt
pepper
extra virgin olive oil
grated parmesan cheese
First I heated my over to 400 degrees, and roasted the tomatoes for about 20 minutes, or until the skins broke and you could see juices coming out of the bottom of the tomatoes. While I was roasting the tomatoes, I boiled a pot of water and cooked the broccoli rabe in bunches, for about 3 to 4 minutes, immediately submerging the broccoli rabe in ice water when removed from the boiling pot. I removed the broccoli rabe from the ice water and chopped it into large pieces and set it aside. I then added some extra virgin olive oil and sea salt to the boiling broccoli water and placed the pasta inside, cooking it for about 5 minutes. In another pan, I sauteed the garlic and crushed red pepper in about 1/4 cup of olive oil for a couple of minutes. I then added the broccoli rabe, cannellini beans and the chopped tomato. I cooked this for about 5 to 7 minutes. I strained the pasta and placed it back in the pot, then added the broccoli and bean mixture to the pasta. I served myself a little, topping with a sprinkling of parmesan cheese.
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