Basically a coarsely chopped and modified version of gremolata accompanies these gnocchi. Normally I would use ricotta, but goat’s cheese is a delicious substitution — the tangy flavour really stands out. You expect the bland ricotta but are greeted by goat’s cheese instead. Nice.

Goat’s Cheese Gnocchi

225 g goat’s cheese
60 g parmigiano-reggiano
60 g all-purpose flour
1 egg
1/4 tsp salt
1/8 tsp white pepper
some gratings of fresh nutmeg

Mix everything to form a thick paste. Refrigerate for an hour. Roll the gnocchi dough into logs about the width of your index finger. Cut log on the bias and roll the pieces on a gnocchi board. You end up with torpedo-shaped gnocchi. Cook in salted boiling water. Remove with a slotted spoon when they begin to float. You can also freeze them for later use.

Puntarelle is:

“a variety of chicory, with serrated leaves, like those on dandelions, attached to the base of the plant and surrounding long, hollow, blunt-tipped whitish-green shoots that grow from the inside of the plant during the course of the winter. Also known as Catalogna de Galatina, puntarelle is a good representation of the flavors we usually expect of the chicory family. Its flavor profile hints at pepperiness like arugula in the leaves, a touch of fennel in the stalks and an underlying flavor that is a cross between chicory and endive.”

www.theproducehunter.com

Grown in the vicinity of Rome, puntarelle looks like thick asparagus stalks are growing out of a cluster of dandelion greens.

Here we have ravioli stuffed with a mixture of puntarelle that has been blanched and then sauteed with olive oil and garlic. Cool down the sauteed puntarelle and then add some finely chopped smoked scamorza, some pecorino romano and some drained ricotta. Get a thick paste consistency to pipe into your ravioli dough.

Cook the ravioli in abundant boiling, salted water.  Toss with some baby arugula, toasted pinenuts, golden raisins, wild fennel seeds, a touch of lemon juice and a little chopped garlic which has been sauteed in some olive oil. Add some pasta water and some shaved pecorino romano to finish.

Pisarei are tiny breadcrumb and flour gnocchi which are a specialty of Piacenza, in the northwest corner of Emilia-Romagna. Lengthwise end-to-end they are a little smaller than a dime.

I first made them while working in a village outside of Bergamo. I don’t know how many hours were spent rolling out these time-consuming little nuggets. After awhile you start using both thumbs — either that or it will take forever.

Here’s my recipe. I don’t think eggs are normally used, but it works for me. In Piacenza, pisarei are served with beans in tomato sauce or in broth.

Pisarei

50 g fine breadcrumbs
100 g all-purpose flour
1 large egg
1/4 cup water
pinch salt

about 4 servings

Place the breadcrumbs and flour on a counter. Make a well in the centre and add the egg, water and salt. Gradually draw the dry ingredients into the centre and thoroughly combine. Knead the dough for 5 to 10 minutes. Let the dough rest for 1/2 an hour. Roll out dough to about 1/4 to 1/2 inch. Cut thin strips and roll them into thin cylinders. Cut the cylinders into small pieces and roll each little morsel with your thumb to form small gnocchi.

Boil in salted water for a few minutes.

Stracnar is a pasta native to Puglia. It is formed by rolling a sheet of dough on a carved wooden board called a cavarola. The pasta sheet takes on the herringbone pattern of the wood, which is then cut into rectangles of about 1 inch by 2 ½ inches. I would like to thank Terry Mirri for crafting such beautiful works of form and function.

The following recipe is based on Giuliano Bugialli’s recipe for stracnar in “Bugialli On Pasta.” It should be enough for 4 people.

Stracnar

150 g all purpose flour
100 g semolina
3 large eggs

Roll out the pasta so that it is thick enough to accept the impression from the cavarola. On my machine that would be about the second or third last notch.

The ragu is a mixture of homemade tomato sauce from Ontario field tomatoes, some olive oil, garlic, softened onion, fresh basil and sea salt. To that was added a generous handful of cooked wild mushrooms. Simmer slowly and adjust the seasoning. Grated on top is some grana padano. A robust red wine compliments this pasta nicely — perhaps a glass of Primitivo.

As Bugialli makes a point of mentioning, “This is another of those great old pastas that must be made manually and is disappearing, but let us work to revive it.”

Recently I purchased a number of pasta making tools from Terry Mirri, an artisan handcrafting some traditional items out in Sonoma, California. Check out his website to see some amazing craftsmanship www.artisanalpastatools.com. He makes corzetti stamps, cavarola boards, garganelli/gnocchi boards and polenta boards. Everything is very traditional, just like artisans were making similar implements hundreds of years ago.

Last night I made some corzetti and served it with basil pesto as is done in Liguria. Some zucchini blossom pieces are scattered on top (because the zucchini vine is taking over the front yard).

But first things first. What are corzetti? Here’s the description from ‘The Dictionary of Italian Food and Drink’ by John Mariani:

“Pasta made with white, whole wheat, or chestnut flour, shaped into rounds, and embossed with a pattern (commonly a star) with a wooden stamp, from Liguria. Corzetti are named after old Genovese stamped money pieces, and old stamps, many now family heirlooms, commemorate heraldry or Genoa’s history.”

Here’s what the pasta discs look like after being pressed between the 2 segments of the corzetti stamp:

Beautiful. At this point I didn’t even care if I cooked them. I was happy just to look at the corzetti.

But eventually hunger won out. The dough is a basic ravioli dough with flour, eggs, semolina, a little milk and a splash of olive oil. Your favourite egg-based pasta recipe should work fine. Roll the dough so it still has enough thickness to accept the impressions on both sides. Too thin and it won’t work out. Too thick and your pasta will be too heavy.

Serve with basil pesto:

2 cups packed basil leaves
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/2 cup toasted pine nuts
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup parmigiano-reggiano, grated

Put everything in the food processor and pulse until the desired consistency is attained.

A vintage Berarducci Brothers cavatelli maker is one piece of technology that is actually worth investing in. It’s a genius device that takes a rope of dough and turns it into nicely carved little pasta shells…

The cavatelli take about 5 minutes to cook in boiling salted water. I made a simple sauce with some sweet golden cherry tomatoes (organic and bursting with flavour), olive oil, chopped garlic and a bit of pasta water. Some purple and green basil and some grated grana padano were added at the end. The juices from the tomatoes combine with everything else to form a delicious sauce. A drizzle of olive oil and some more grated padano to finish.

Use a spoon for this dish to scoop up the cavatelli with some of the orange tomato essence and basil.

“Strozzapreti” – the “priest strangler” is a hand-rolled pasta formed by rolling strips of thin dough through your palms, and then pinching off the rolled strip with the fingers of the hand not holding on to the dough.

The dough recipe is basic — the same as for strascinati, with the softness of the dough making it easier to shape. This will make enough for 6 to 8 people.

Strozzapreti

250 g all-purpose flour
250 g semolina
1 cup water
1 T olive oil

There are many anecdotes regarding the origin of the name, but it probably has to do with the ‘strangling’ of the dough between the hands, with such force that it appears you’re mad enough to strangle a priest. It could also have to do with gluttonous clergy eating so many, so fast, that they ended up choking. Who knows for sure? At the end of the day, this is a fun pasta to make. It’s got great texture, and holds some sauce in the nooks and crannies.

Pansotti are ‘pot bellied’ pasta triangles from Liguria, usually stuffed with ricotta and borage. I don’t have any borage growing at the moment, but I do have a bunch of wild leeks. The filling is simply equal parts of seasoned wild leeks sautéed in butter, with freshly made ricotta. Place everything in the food processor with a few gratings of pecorino romano to make a thick paste for stuffing the pansotti.

The pasta dough is my usual ravioli dough recipe (which makes enough for about 3 main course portions):

250 g all-purpose flour
2 eggs
1 T extra virgin olive oil
1 T milk

The pasta has been garnished with sautéed wild leek bulbs and some shavings of pecorino romano. All the leek tops are inside the pasta. You have to cut open the pansotti with a fork for the green to be revealed. If you do use borage leaves, the purple-blue flowers would make a beautiful garnish.

The white trillium is the flower emblem of the Province of Ontario.

Instead of white trilliums carpeting the forest floor, we end up with the garlic mustard plant. Lots of it.

Introduced to North America by settlers back in the late 1800s, garlic mustard is now considered an invasive weed.  Prime habitat for the trillium is being taken over by garlic mustard. Good thing garlic mustard is edible.

If you enjoy bitter greens (like dandelion) you will like this. When the leaves are bruised they smell like garlic (hence the name). Mixed with some ricotta, they’d make a good filling for ravioli, or the main ingredients in some gnocchi.

Gnocchi it is.

Garlic Mustard Gnocchi

400 g ricotta
350 g garlic mustard greens, chopped (weight after blanching in boiling, salted water, squeezed dry)
1 egg
70 g flour, maybe a bit more
20 g gruyère, grated
20 g parmigiano-reggiano, grated
sea salt
freshly ground black pepper
nutmeg, grated

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil.

Meanwhile, put the ricotta and chopped greens into a food processor and form a paste. Pulse in the flour, egg, cheese and seasonings. Turn down the heat so that the water is simmering. Take a small spoon of the dough and drop it into the water. After the gnoccho has floated to the surface and cooked for a couple more minutes, remove it with a slotted spoon and taste. If it has broken apart, add a bit more flour. Adjust the seasoning if necessary.

Process all the gnocchi, removing them to a sheet pan that has been lightly coated with olive oil. Use right away with an appropriate sauce (like scamorza affumicata, for example), or cool completely and refrigerate or freeze.

Some finely chopped rosemary and garlic, mixed with some fleur de sel is under the skin of this organic chicken leg and thigh. Seared on medium-high heat and finished in the oven to develop a nice crispy and deeply caramelized skin.

The gnocchi recipe is a slightly modified and scaled back version of the gnocchi di zucca I used to make at a local Italian restaurant.

In the background is a salad of thinly sliced fennel, flat-leaf parsley, fennel fronds, ground fennel seeds, evo oil, salt, pepper and lemon juice. It helps cut through the richness of the gnocchi and cheese sauce.

Gnocchi di Zucca

8 oz delicata squash
1 ½ oz parmigiano-reggiano
1 egg
5 T all purpose flour
salt, to taste
pepper, to taste
sugar, pinch
nutmeg, pinch

Cut open the squash, remove the seeds, and roast in a 400°F oven until soft. You can use butternut squash also, but it seems to have more water content, and you will need to drain the roasted butternut squash in a colander, with a weight on top, preferrably overnight. Otherwise you need to add more flour to combat the water and end up with a heavier gnocchi.

Take the roasted delicata squash, and remove the flesh to a mixing bowl. Add the egg, and mix until smooth. (An electric mixer helps here. Or to get a smoother consistency push the squash through a food mill or strainer.) Add the parm-reg, and enough flour to bind the ingredients. Try 5 tablespoons of flour, but you may need a bit more. Mix in the salt, pepper, sugar and a few gratings of fresh nutmeg.

Have a pot of boiling salted water at the ready. Using 2 small spoons, form quenelles of the gnocchi batter and drop the formed dough into the water. After the gnocchi have floated to the surface and been there for about a minute, remove them to an oiled sheet pan with a slotted spoon. Repeat with the remaining gnocchi. Alternatively, you can place the gnocchi on a terry cloth towel. The cloth forms slight indentations which will allow a sauce to cling to the gnocchi better.

When the gnocchi have cooled, carefully remove them to a container for later use. In a restaurant setting that’s what you would do. If you are using the gnocchi immediately you could just cook them through in the previous step and remove them into a pan of cheese sauce, or whatever sauce you like. Usually, I will take the pre-cooked gnocchi, put them in a pot of boiling salted water, wait until they float and then add them to some melted taleggio that has some heavy cream added. You could also take the gnocchi and instead of re-boiling them, pan fry them in some butter and fresh herbs. Sage works well here.

There are many variations on bolognese sauce. Probably as many as those who cook it. Traditionally though the sauce is packed with meat and not much tomato. This is unlike a lot of spag bol sauces which go heavy on the tomato sauce.

Here is my attempt which uses fresh tomatoes and long-simmering. No canned tomatoes or tomato paste.

some sliced garlic
olive oil
2 carrots, fine dice
2 celery stalks, fine dice
1 onion, fine dice
1 bay leaf
1/2 cup red wine
10 oz steak, minced
16 oz pork, minced
10 plum tomatoes, peeled, diced
2 T balsamic vinegar
fresh basil
sprig fresh rosemary
wild oregano (dried)
salt
black pepper

Some of these ingredients are non-standard, but it turned out nicely. Necessity is the mother of invention.

First make your soffritto which I take as finely diced onion, carrot and celery. Known as a mirepoix in France. One thing you might want to add is some diced pancetta, which is a classic ingredient in a bolognese sauce.

Heat the oil in a large pot and add the sliced garlic cloves. Remove them when they start to turn golden brown. Then add the soffritto. Turn the heat down a bit so that the vegetables soften gently.

When the soffritto has softened up add the bay leaf and the meat. I diced a couple of pork chops and a piece of sirloin steak. Feel free to use minced pork and beef. Personally I like the meat to have more texture in a rustic sauce such as this. Cook the meat until it is no longer pink. At this point add the wine. I used a half cup of chianti classico, in keeping with the adage that one should only cook with wine that one would enjoy drinking. This happened to be a mighty fine wine. Stir the pot and reduce the wine down a bit.

Now add the tomatoes. I blanched the plum tomatoes in boiling water for a few seconds, immediately removing them to a bowl of cold running water. They were then peeled and chopped.

I found the tomatoes added enough liquid to the sauce, but you could add a bit of water or stock at this point. If you use canned tomatoes they tend to have quite a lot of liquid so this won’t be an issue. Turn down the heat to a bare simmer. Season lightly with some sea salt and black pepper. Not too much because the sauce will reduce and concentrate flavours. Cover the pot and walk away.

After about an hour add the herbs — a bunch of fresh basil, one sprig of rosemary and some dried wild oregano (from Greece –  I remember my Italian cooking prof telling me to go light on the oregano “Because it’s too Greek.” — Sorry.)

Stir in the herbs and put the lid back on. Simmer on low for at least another hour. Check the pot sometimes to make sure there is enough liquid.

When it looks like you have a nice thick sauce, stir in some balsamic vinegar (totally optional — I liked it, and Modena is just down the road from Bologna) and adjust the seasoning.

The pasta here is kamut penne. Kamut is an ancient wheat believed to have originated in Egypt. The pasta has almost a buttery richness while being coarse-textured. It stands up well to the robustness of the sauce.

Garlic scapes are available in the market and I decided to make a ‘pesto’ for some rigatoni. I didn’t have pinenuts for the classic preparation but there were some pistachios in the cupboard.

150 g garlic scapes
75 g pistachios, shelled, lightly toasted
75 g smoked mozzarella, grated
3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/2 tsp sea salt
juice and zest of 1/2 lemon

Chop the scapes into small pieces which will help break them down in the blender or food processor. Add the pistachios, oil, salt, zest and juice. Blend until you have a chunky pesto. Remove the contents to a bowl and stir in some grated smoked mozzarella (or scamorza affumicata).