Homemade Gnocchi: From Novice to Now

Yes, yes--here's another one of my stories. Just bear with me and I'll try to make it as painless as possible.

Rewind to sophmore year in college. I just began studying nutrition and getting my hands wet in the kitchen. My best friend was visiting and we had a hankering for a good meal. Only problem was, we had no clue how to make that happen. We decided on making homemade gnocchi. I know what you're thinking: why would these two little inexperienced girls take on such a task without the proper knowledge of the culinary arts? The answer: We had no idea what we were getting into. Not a clue.

To spare you the details, I will simply reveal the outcome: the gnocchi disappeared. Literally. They crumbled apart in the cooking water and melted away. (Picture the confusion; it still makes me laugh to this day.)

Fast forward one year later. I undertake a similar task, this time using sweet potatoes as the base for the gnocchi. For fear of losing the little babies in the pool, I was sure to add a generous amount of flour and knead the dough repeatedly. The gnocchi survived the boiling, but sadly they were too tough. Not bad, though, for a second try.

Back to present day. I am ready to revisit the nightmare that is the gnocchi...

I recommend you prepare the potatoes a day in advance. This will greatly cut down on the amount of kitchen time you put in at once. It's not necessary, but helpful in keeping you sane. Pierce the sweet potatoes (I used two) all over with a fork, place on a baking sheet in a 450-degree oven for about an hour. Allow to cool, then peel and mash well. Refrigerate for use the next day, or let them cool completely and move on...

Season the potatoes with salt, black pepper, and a dash of cinnamon or nutmeg. In a separate bowl, beat one egg and then stir into the potatoes. Now add the flour a little at a time. I ended up using about 1 1/2 cups, which resulted in a dough that looked like this:

Now that you've dumped out the dough onto a clean, floured working surface, knead the dough gently until it just comes together. Remember not to over-knead like I did in the past. Next, cut the dough into sections (I made eight) and roll each one out and cut into bite size pieces. Roll a fork over each gnocchi to create the signature pattern. I had some trouble with this step; improvisation led to me lightly squish them with a fork.

We're almost there! Drop the gnocchi into boiling water. Once they float to the surface, let them cook for about 3-4 minutes before fishing them out with a slotted spoon.

Toss with melted butter, cinnamon or nutmeg, and fresh torn sage.

The gnocchi were texturally balanced, both chewy and pillowy. The cinnamon accentuated the natural sweetness of the potatoes, and the sage in the butter sauce lent an earthy note to the dish.

I guess the adage is true: Third time's the charm!

A Hearty Salad

If we're expected to get to know each other better, there is something I must tell you: I really hate salads in the winter. Just the thought makes me want to grind me teeth. Cold, crunchy, uncooked--yuck.

Recently I was making red lentil soup (refer to the post "Two New Things" on September 2, 2009 for the recipe) and needed something to round out the meal. A friend suggested salad, and I cringed. But I figured it would be a simple accompaniment to a humble entree, and went for it. And it wasn't so bad!

Actually, it was so good that I decided to make it again tonight for dinner, and added some chicken to make it filling and hearty.

Here's how to do it: Saute chicken breasts on medium-high heat for about 10 minutes on each side, depending on the thickness of the meat. Meanwhile, assemble salad greens on a plate (the darker the color, the more nutrients), sprinkle with pistachio nuts, crumbled goat cheese, and sliced apples. Prepare the salad dressing, which comprises apricot jelly, dijon mustard, red wine vinegar, extra-virgin olive oil, salt, and freshly ground black pepper. Top the salad with the chicken and drizzle with dressing.



Now, I can't say that I am a changed woman, but I will admit that it wasn't a terrible experience. In fact, the salad was pretty damn good.

Roasted Asparagus

Perhaps you remember a past post in which I divulged my love of roasted brussels sprouts (see: Roasted Brussels Sprouts: A Love Affair on 10/15/09). This is simply an addendum which emphasizes the beauty that develops from simple vegetables when roasted. Their natural sweetness (yes, veggies can be sweet) is enhanced and, when combined with a few simple ingredients, a wonderfully balanced flavor emerges and lingers pleasantly on the ol' tastebuds.

Trim off the tough, fibrous ends of the asparagus. Place on a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil and toss with extra-virgin olive oil, fresh lemon juice, grated (or finely minced) garlic, salt, and black pepper. Roast in a 425-degree oven for about 25 minutes, or until tender and the tips are crispy. (Cooking time may vary depending on the thickness of the stalks. If you have larger, more mature asparagus, you may need to add 10 minutes or so to the oven time.)

This side dish can be served alongside, oh...anything, really! Tonight I munched on these and boiled up some store-bought mushroom ravioli. Delicious.

A Confession

I have never really liked hot dogs. No really, I'm not kidding. But it seems that during the past two months, I have been talking about hot dogs a lot lately. And finally, I admitted that I do, indeed, LOVE hot dogs. They just gotta be good...

Which brings me to my second hot dog post (and perhaps my last, since I am supposed to mention some healthy things in this blog on occasion).

I recently visited one of my best friends, Frank, in Chicago, something that I have been meaning to do for too long, and finally initiated after watching No Reservations: Chicago. In this episode, Anthony Bourdain visits Hot Doug's: The Sausage Superstore and Encased Meat Emporium. I'd like to think that my experience was similar to his.



Drove through a somewhat shady area of Chicago (picture the town in The Deer Hunter), waited in line outside, squeezed our way through the first set of doors into the space I referred to as The Holding Cell. A friend of Frank's anticipated our meal to resemble something from the Seinfeld "Soup Nazi" episode, but instead we were warmly greeted by friendly folk.

Nevermind what everyone else ate; I chowed down on a traditional Chicago-style dog, which was accompanied by caramelized onions, relish, tomatoes, a pickle spear, and celery salt. Yum. The second hot dog I ordered (yes, I ate two) was the foie gras dog. A duck and Sauternes sausage topped with some sort of black truffle aoili and a generous portion of foie gras--the best $9 I've spent probably in the past two years.

My only complaint is that the duck fat fries, which are only served on Friday and Saturday, were just not what I had expected. I mean, they were fine--but just not wonderful.

I can't wait to get back to Chicago. And not only for the great dogs, but also the great company.

Me with my cheesy foie gras smile

Homemade Hot Dogs: The Most Erotic Culinary Adventure this Family Has Ever Experienced

My dad loves to cook, but what he truly enjoys is trying out the most complex recipes one could ever come across. He takes pride in a perfect mis en place, many ingredients that have to be hunted down in multiple grocery stores, and purchasing new, fancy equipment to bring the meal together.

Knowing that he has been dying to have his hand at homemade hot dogs, I bought him a meat grinder attachment for the stand mixer. I forgot to purchase a casing attachment, so, naturally Dad fabricated his own.

This post is not about following a recipe, or detailing the ingredients and the methods utilized to create these phallic little things; it is really just about how much fun you can have in the kitchen with the ones you love. The perseverance and teamwork truly shed a light on how my family comes together, each member with a specific role, and creates a delicious meal and even better memories.

I suggest you find someone you love, or hey--even someone you tolerate, and cook something. It's not always the outcome but the stuff in between that has made me fall in love with being in the kitchen.