Рецепт Review of My Kitchen Year with Painless Pasta
Review of My Kitchen Year with Painless Pasta By Eliot, on June 30th, 2017 Once I find an author I love, I read absolutely everything she/he has written. Such was the case when I discovered Barbara Kingsolver in the early 90s. (Animal Dreams still remains one of my favorites). After I heard David Sedaris on “This American Life,” I had to read everything he ever wrote (and I’ve seen him in person twice). And of course, Bourdain is a passion (who I also shelled out big bucks to meet). I would so run away with him if the chance ever presented itself.
I fully admit that I have a stalker-like mentality when it comes to my favorite authors.
Then there’s Ruth Reichl. I started my obsessive reading quest with Ruth about eight years ago when she appeared on “Top Chef Masters.” (I also read works by her co-judges, Gael Green and and Jay Raynor, but Ruth won my heart). I just felt like Ruth and I could be friends, sharing cups of coffee with homemade pastries every morning as we discussed world events. (Again, that stalker personality could easily manifest in me.)
She was also the esteemed editor-in-chief of Gourmet, but she may have the infamous distinction of being known as the last editor of this classical, culinary, sixty-nine year old publication.
Her latest work, My Kitchen Year: 136 Recipes That Saved My Life (September 2015), deals with that unexpected demise of Gourmet and how she found herself unemployed and drifting.
That she felt a little unmoored is an understatement.
Her kitchen saved her: “And so I did what I always do when I’m confused, lonely, or frightened: I disappeared into the kitchen.”
As I perused through My Kitchen Year, I realized I was reading more than just a mere cookbook. I was experiencing all the blood, sweat and tears (and confusion, and loneliness and fright) that Reichl had balanced and overcome. My Kitchen Year is beyond a cookbook. It’s a memoir about her driven and fast paced career life slashed short and her regaining of confidence through cooking.
In between her plain spoken narrative are poetic tweets from this same time of her life. The poetry doesn’t stop there and in the recipes proper are glimpses of Reichl’s more lyrical language: “Peel a few different kinds of apples, enjoying the way they shrug reluctantly out of their skins” (from “Apple Crisp”).
The book is divided into seasons and starts with the early fall, as soon as Reichl is called to the Conde Nast offices and told of Gourmet‘s immediate dissolution. As fall turns into a harsh winter, her food reflects her need to cook and feed. The comfort that Reichl needed for herself is echoed in the food of these seasons—soups, stews, hearty desserts, roasted shanks of meat, bowls of noodles, gratins, pasta…
But, since it is now the growing season, I was drawn to her spring and summer menus and musings. I did notice, though, as spring arrives and she finds a new life direction (writing said cookbook), her prose becomes more succinct and sometimes are mere recipe hednotes for her new cookbook dream. I was drawn to her Lemon Pudding Cake (165), Cochinita Pibil (200), Three Day Short Ribs (214) and her Painless Pasta for Three (276).
As you read, you will feel like Reichl is speaking directly to you and she writes that she wanted the book and the recipes to be written in a “relaxed tone, as if we were standing in the kitchen, cooking together.”
Remember my fantasy of having coffee with her?
Here’s my take on her “Painless Pasta for Three.”
Painless Pasta
Based on Ruth Reichl’s “Painless Pasta for Three”
I’ve taken a few liberties with the ingredients, but Reichl maintains that you need to seek out the very best mozzarella di bufala and olive oil.
Ingredients
1/2 c. quality extra virgin olive oil
3 cloves garlic, sliced
1/4 c. fresh basil (or as much as you like)
1 lb. cherry tomatoes, halved
1 lb. spaghetti
8 oz. fresh mozzarella pearls
salt and pepper to taste
Instructions
Place olive oil in a large serving bowl. Slice the garlic and shred a handful of basil leaves into it.Cut the tomatoes in half. Add to the olive oil mixture and let set at room temperature for an hour.
Cook the spaghetti according to directions. When it’s al dente, drain and toss it with the olive oil mixture in the serving bowl. Add cheese and toss until its melted. Salt and pepper to taste.
Serve
Yields: 3-4
I was so excited I got to use fresh basil from the garden. I used a mixture of Asian, large leaf, and variegated basils.
This is a versatile dish and in my opinion it’s certainly more than servings for three. (Four or five in our household.) I am sure that if I could have found real mozzarella di bufala this would have been more delicious. We did enjoy it but I might use goat cheese next time. I like the bruschetta feel to this pasta.
It’s a great summer dish. I can’t wait to use home grown tomatoes! (The leftovers are just as good cold as a summer salad.)
I certainly will be making that Lemon Pudding Cake as well. Perhaps, I will invite her over for coffee and to discuss world events.
For another homage to Reichl, click here.
I am linking up with Simona’s Novel Food…
…and Foodies Read.
Aside: I just finished Sedaris’ Theft by Finding, a compilation of his personal diaries from 1977-2002. Of course as with any Sedaris work, it’s pee-in-your-pants funny, but along with the hilarity comes honest introspective musings on his addiction and his relationships. book review, Clubs and Blog Hops, Cookbook Review, What we're growing, eating, and doing. basil, cookbook, cookbook review, garlic, mozarella, olive oil, pasta, Ruth Reichl, tomatoes