A couple of weeks back, I mentioned (much to my chagrin) that I had recently used a jar of store-bought tomato sauce. In the interest of full disclosure, it was Wegman’s Food You Feel Good About Four Cheese Pasta Sauce, which isn’t too bad as far as these things go.
The point of that post was that I had a foolproof recipe for a super-quick marinara sauce. There was one night, however, that I was going to be eating alone and I had absolutely no interest in putting any effort into cooking; making even the marinara recipe seem like a chore. So rather than swing by the local fast food establishment, I grabbed a crusty roll on the way home, broke out the jar of sauce and whipped up what may be one of the tastiest simple meals that a trained chimp or lazy home cook can prepare in ten minutes or less.
Behold, in all it’s glory, Eggs in Purgatory.
How simple is it? Well, even if you go to the trouble of making the sauce from scratch, you’re still talking about a meal ready in under 15 minutes. And if you have some store-bought or pre-made sitting in the fridge, you’ll be eating in no time.
Over Inauguration weekend, 80P and I crashed a dinner for Liza’s out of town guests. Her friend was in from, um, Nebraska or Iowa or North Dakota, no wait, Montana. And Liza wanted to show off DC’s Ethiopian food. Unfortunately, everyone else in the city thought the same.
We finally found a place that wouldn’t be over an hour wait. But that was only after we spotted an Italian restaurant, La Carbonara, in Little Ethiopia. I scanned the outside menu and pledged to come back: there was fettuccine alfredo to be had.
And so I’ve returned. Actually a few times. I’ve gotten to know Chu Chu, the owner and sometimes chef. I’ve also gotten to slurp down plenty of creamy noodles.
I love Chu Chu’s story: He grew up in Ethiopia, then worked in an Italian restaurant in Italy, then opened up an Ethiopian restaurant in Italy and now lives in the United States and owns an Italian restaurant in Little Ethiopia.
Is there a more universal food product than the noodle? Are there any cuisines that don’t have some variation on this simple combination of a starch and a liquid?
I can’t imagine making anything that is as rewarding as fresh pasta. It simultaneously manages to be the easiest of items while also inviting a lifetime’s worth of practice, refinement and perfection.
This all came about on a recent weekend where I had more time on my hands for a meal than I thought. Although the plan was to make a dried pasta dish, the urge to roll out some fresh fettuccine quickly sent me searching for all that I would need: five eggs, three and a half cups of all purpose flour, my pasta roller and a copy of Molto Italiano…
I used jarred tomato sauce a little while back. In my defense, the sauce wasn’t terrible and I was actually aiming for the laziest meal preparation ever, so it fit the bill. (We’ll cover this in depth in a future post.)
Jarred sauce never, ever factors into a pasta preparation in the TVFF household. I think this is genetically impossible, considering my Italian heritage. Plus, there’s just no reason for it.
We make a lot of pasta at home. It’s the main menu item at least once a week, and I like to rotate in a couple of interesting sauce combinations (leeks/sausage/cabbage/fontina, puttanesca, broccoli/anchovy/butter). But with both of us working full time jobs (her in NYC, me in Philadelphia) the urge for a dish that requires very little prep and cooking time…in other words, a sauce that can be done in the time it takes to boil the noodles.
All you need is a lock-solid recipe for a simple marinara sauce and you’re set for life.
Another year, another Oscars ceremony coming up, and still no category for Best Use of Food In a Motion Picture. Where is the justice? Ever since the great Charlie Chaplin made a couple of dinner rolls dance in The Gold Rush, food has elevated the cinema to its greatest moments. From James Cagney taking out his aggression on a grapefruit to Willy Wonka’s fantasy land of sweets, food has helped film portray the full range of human emotions. So instead of watching 4 hours of Hollywood self-congratulation this weekend, spend a few minutes checking out the Top 10 Movie Food Moments.
10. “Elwood and I will come here for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.” – The Blues Brothers
Chez Paul was apparently a real restaurant in Chicago. The version of it they used in The Blues Brothers (they built a replica of the interior for filming) was also the perfect example of the too-fussy French restaurant just asking to be taken down a few pegs. And so, when Jake and Elwood go looking for maitre d’ Alan “Mr. Fabulous” Rubin to fill out their brass section, we know something good is going to happen, and we get the visceral thrill of getting to see them overturn the applecart. One shrimp cocktail, a few glasses of champagne, a failed attempt to purchase a woman and child and a very young Pee-Wee Herman later, and they’re off on the next leg of their Mission from God.
9. Jack Just Wants his Toast – Five Easy Pieces
There’s ordering toast, and then there’s ordering toast the Jack Nicholson way. This 1970 drama was nominated for 4 Oscars, but who can remember anything about it, other than Jacko telling the poor waitress to “hold it between your knees?” The moral of the story: If Jack ever walks into your restaurant, just give him his goddamn plain white toast.
8. Late Night Dinner at Mrs. Scorsese’s – Goodfellas
Mob movies and Italian food go together like meatballs and red gravy. So when it comes time to pick the greatest food scene from a Mafia flick, we’re going to leave the cannoli and take a scene from Marty’s masterpiece, GoodFellas. Although the description of one of the incarcerated gangsters preparing a full Italian feast (complete with razor-sliced garlic in the sauce) is tempting, we have to go with a late night stop at Tommy DeVito’s mother’s place in order to pick out some tools to finish a…business transaction. But what Italian mother would let her son and his friends leave without making sure the boys are well-fed? Oh, and that late-night home cook? Played by Martin Scorsese’s mom.
7. A Chef’s Breakfast – Big Night
A lyrical food movie, with Louis Prima playing the Godot role. Of all of the Italian cuisine featured throughout the film, it’s a simple scene toward the end that captures all you need to know about a chef’s love and respect for food. The next morning, after the climactic feast, a simple egg is cooked on screen, in one take. And you get the feeling that, while the chefs cook the fancy dishes for the punters in the dining room, the true connoisseur can appreciate something so basic. The clip above is from an Italian copy of the movie, but the scene has so few words, it really doesn’t matter. The movie is made all the more satisfying if you know that star Stanley Tucci is a major foodie and F.O.M. (Friend of Mario)
6. In Space No One Can Hear Your Chest Explode – Alien
Bilbo over there has been acting really suspicious lately. And Kane had a run-in with that thing, but he’s been feeling better lately. Maybe things are looking up…you and your buddies get to kick back and enjoy a meal and a few laughs. What could possibly go wrong? Oh, shit!
These Insult Trackers are supposed to be easy. All I have to do is DVR the episode, transcribe a few of his “witticisms,” make some wise-ass comments and hit the submit button. But noooo, Toby just can’t make it easy, can he?
That’s right, for the second time in three weeks, Toby relegated himself to a few bland complaints and — horror! — compliments for Fabio’s roasted chicken. So for this week, he gets…
I cooked something the other night that got me thinking. (By the way, coming up with that sentence is the first sign that you need to write for a food blog.)
The meal was tasty. It was parsnip and pancetta tagliatelle with Parmesan and butter, in which I took the liberty of substituting fettuccine for the tagliatelle (I’m a rebel like that). Otherwise, I played the recipe pretty much by the book. I hardly ever work with parsnips, but it’s not really much more than a pale carrot, so all that really needs to be done was avoid using too much of the more fibrous center if you find yourself with a larger parsnip. Judging by the photo on that page, I decided not to cut up the pancetta too much. Rather, I kind of “unwound” it and split the longer piece in half, resulting in something similar to a short strip of bacon.
Everything gets fried in a bunch of butter and pork fat, so that’s good. My one departure from the technique laid out in the recipe was the addition of some pasta water a little earlier in the process, creating more of a sauce for the fettuccine once I moved it from the pot into the frying pan. However, the water caused some of the thinly-sliced parsnip to go a bit mushy, so either add the water later or take this into account when you’re slicing. Despite the slight misstep in texture, the flavor was very good, with the parsnip providing a surprising and tasty sweetness that paired well with the rich sauce and pancetta.
So that was the “cooking” part…
