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Filtering by Tag: peas

orecchiette carbonara

Andrea

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We have a special category for certain types of meals in our house: BHubb meals. As in, 'that's a BHubb dinner', which tranlates to 'that's the kind of dish that makes Brian, aka BHubb, a happy man'. Typically a BHubb meal is rich and heavy, and most often has some sort of pork product involved. Examples of BHubb meals from the past include Slow-Cooked Carnitas, Pappardelle with Spicy Pork Ragu, and Bacon Garlic Marinara with Homemade Meatballs. You see, sometimes I get on a salad kick, or a soup kick, and there will be weeks where most of our meals are one or the other. Those are most definitely NOT BHubb meals, because once Brian leaves the table he is rummaging for more sustenance in the pantry within half an hour. I am trying to be better about the balance between AHubb and BHubb meals in our house, and I must admit that I get a lot of satisfaction out of Brian's vigorous nod of approval after his first bite of a dinner made specially with him in mind. 

I knew going in that this Orecchiette Carbonara would get such a nod. Brian already expected something delicious when he got home last night, as I'd asked him before he left for work to slice 6 long strips of bacon from the cured pork belly we had waiting in our fridge. His eyebrows went up as he said 'bacon, huh?!?', and happily got to work carefully releasing slice after slice from the slab. And once at the dinner table, true to form, with his mouth still full Brian looked to me, pointed at the bowl in front of him, and gave me that content bob of his head letting me know that this, for sure, was a Bhubb meal.

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This is a dish that I feel certain will make a frequent appearance at our table. We almost always have each of these ingredients on hand, aside from perhaps the leeks which, in a pinch, could be substituted with sweet onion.  Orecchiette can occasionally be difficult to find, but is worth the effort if you do. The tiny ear-shaped pasta is perfect for catching the peas and bits of bacon. If you have trouble, substitute shells or bowties.

Orecchiette Carbonara

serves 4

Ingredients

  • 6 slices high-quality, thick-cut bacon
  • 2 medium leeks, white + pale green parts only, halved lengthwise and cut crosswise into 1/3-inch pieces
  • 2 garlic cloves, minced
  • 1 cup frozen peas, thawed
  • 10 oz orecchiette pasta or small shells
  • 2 large, high-quality egg yolks, room temperature
  • 1/4 cup heavy cream
  • 1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan cheese
  • 1 tbsp fresh parsley

Method

  1. Cook bacon until crisp. We like to cook our bacon in the oven at 400° for about 15 minutes on a rimmed baking sheet, but cooking it in a skillet on the stove top is fine, too. Transfer the cooked bacon to a paper towel to drain, and set aside. Reserve 2 tbsp of the bacon fat, keeping it in the skillet or pouring it from the baking pan into a skillet.  Once the bacon is cool, break it into small pieces.
  2. Add the leeks and garlic to the skillet with the bacon fat, and saute' over medium heat until tender, about 6 minutes. Add the peas and stir to heat evenly. Set aside.
  3. Meanwhile, cook pasta in a large pot of boiling salted water until just tender, about 8 minutes. Drain pasta, reserving 1/2 cup of the pasta cooking water.
  4. Whisk the egg yolks, parmesan, and cream together in a medium bowl. Gradually add 1/4 cup of the pasta cooking water. 
  5. Add the pasta to the leeks and stir to mix over medium heat, just until all is heated through and the leeks are just starting to sizzle again. Remove the skillet from the heat and pour egg mixture over pasta. Stir until the sauce is just creamy and eggs are no longer raw, about 2 minutes. You can return the skillet to very low heat if the egg mixture is still runny, but be careful not to overcook. If the pasta needs to be moistened, you can add some of the reserved pasta cooking water back to the pan.
  6. Stir in the bacon and parsley, blending well.
  7. Serve with additional cheese and freshly ground black pepper.
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it's better this way

Andrea

Last Monday I sat on a plane at Louis Armstrong International Airport, Brian’s hand in mine as we taxied down the runway and lifted off, on our way home to Charlottesville. Out the window I watched a city that I love dearly fall away, nostalgic and missing New Orleans already.

We’d arrived Friday morning to heat and humidity that we won’t (hopefully) see in Virginia for another two months. After checking bags at our hotel, changing into shorts and slathering on sunscreen we set out into the city with two friends who’d joined us for four days of exploring, absorbing, listening and, most importantly, eating. As the veteran visitors, Brian and I had laid out an agenda based on food - our nine meals were carefully scheduled and the rest of the trip was woven loosely around their locations.

There were muffalettas and seafood po-boys, chicken andouille gumbo and spicy jambalaya, raw oysters and bags of boiled crawfish, black ham biscuits and fluffy omelets served with fries, powdered beignets and pecan-laden pralines. We sipped Pimm’s Cups as we strolled the French Quarter, cooled off with a creamy Bourbon Milk Punch at Bourbon House, swirled ice in our vodka tonics while listening to set after set of incredible jazz. We walked and biked between those meals to help counter the indulgence of the weekend, oftentimes feeling that what we really, really needed was to find a shady spot to stretch out horizontally for a nice, long nap.

As New Orleans disappeared beneath a bank of hazy clouds last Monday I found myself thinking that we could live there, Brian and I, in a cute Creole cottage just downriver from the French Quarter. We’d paint our home in shades of blue and grey with a vibrant yellow, or maybe eggplant, accent around the windows and doors. There would be bikes leaned up against the side of the house, one with a basket, ready at a moment’s notice to be ridden into the Quarter for lunch or to the Crescent City Farmer’s Market for fresh, local seafood and produce. Our yard would be tiny, just big enough for a vegetable garden and a stone terrace with an umbrella-covered picnic table. We’d string lanterns from the trees and host crawfish boils on that terrace, invite guests who would wear jaunty hats and sip frosty cocktails as they unconsciously swayed to the sounds of Doreen’s clarinet wafting from the stereo.

It is a lovely dream, one that I could see becoming a reality one day if we could just find a way to get used to the stifling heat. And the cockroaches - complete terror only scratches the surface of the affect that those little buggers have on me. And the city’s status as the murder capital of the USA...  Minor details, since I already have the biggest obstacle solved - vegetables. Did you notice that my list of traditional NOLA fare does not include even a hint of green? While we happily consumed fried / buttered / sugared food for four full days, I believe that four days must be the limit. For as I dreamt about our little blue Creole cottage and crawfish boils and lanterns strung from trees and clinking glasses of frosty beverages, I managed to squeeze a giant bowl of homegrown greens onto the linen-covered table in the middle of that backyard terrace.

A vegetable garden would be an absolute necessity to our New Orleans lifestyle.

The next day, back at work in Charlottesville and fully submerged in reality, Brian and I met a friend for lunch at Feast. I ordered a mixed salad plate, and while I couldn’t stop talking about the wonderful food in New Orleans, my mind was distracted by how amazingly satisfying the plate full of veggies in front of me was. And on Saturday, at our own City Market, we filled our basket with all the green we could get our hands on - two heads of lettuce, two bunches of both kale and collards, two pounds of asparagus.

I plan to share some of our favorite New Orleans-inspired dishes here on Bella Eats in the next month or two (along with some photographs from our trip!), but just had to give our systems a break this last 10 days.  I'd originally thought that a full month of NOLA fare on this little blog could be fun, but have decided instead to spread those rich, indulgent dishes out, to balance them with recipes like this side of wilted spinach tossed with fresh peas, garlic and scallions.  It's better this way, I promise.

Tangles of earthy spinach play well with the sweet peas in this dish. The mild flavors are complimented nicely by the subdued bite of sliced garlic and a generous handful of scallions.  Serve alongside a fillet of white fish dressed simply with lemon, sea salt and herbs for a healthy, feel-good-to-the-core meal.

Spinach with Peas and Scallions

adapted from The Naked Chef Takes Off by Jamie Oliver serves 4 Ingredients
  • 2 tbsp olive oil
  • 2 tbsp butter, divided
  • 1 bunch of scallions, dark and light green parts diced (about 1/4 cup)
  • 3 garlic cloves, sliced
  • 2 cups of fresh or frozen peas
  • 1 cup white wine
  • 4 large handfulls of spinach, tough stems removed
  • sea salt and pepper
Method
  1. Heat olive oil and 1 tbsp butter in deep skillet over medium heat. Add the scallions and sliced garlic, stirring to coat with oil and butter.  Let saute' for 2-3 minutes, not letting the garlic brown.
  2. Add the peas, and saute' for another 2-3 minutes, until the garlic starts to turn golden brown.  Add the wine, and bring to a boil.  Reduce to a simmer and allow to cook for another 2-3 minutes.  If using fresh peas, be sure to test one before adding the spinach to be sure that it is cooked.
  3. Add the spinach, stirring to coat with liquid.  Allow spinach to heat through and wilt, 2-3 more minutes.  Add last tbsp of butter and salt and pepper to taste.
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