Hot Lips

Left over from our sausage making venture was some very spicy and very salty Italian sausage. (By the way, I figured out why it turned out so salty - I used regular table salt instead of kosher salt and the grains are smaller, hence they pack closer and add more salt to the mix).

I thought some veggies and some pasta would help to even out the salt and the spice, so I boiled some vermicelli and chopped a bunch of veggies to add to slices of the sausage.

First, I browned the sausage pieces in a little olive oil, then added the chunked veggies - mushrooms, sweet peppers, broccoli, onion, garlic - to the pan to sauté quickly in the sausage juices, then added a couple of tablespoons of the pasta water to stir around and make a quick "sauce" before plating.

It worked! Fast, tasty and economical, it made a lovely dinner with wonderfully summery colors. Not adding any salt to the mix tamed the overly salted sausage. It was still very spicy, but we like having hot lips.

You Don't Want To Know

We made sausage. Man, did we ever make sausage! On July 4, 2011 we flew the giant American flag I bought at a garage sale and declared our independence from store bought sausages by making our own.

Pals Sari and Jeff (the cutest new couple on earth, by the way) lugged Jeff's wonderful KitchenAid mixer over to our house, along with pounds and pounds of meat, natural casings (which is a polite term for animal intestines) and extra fat for making sausages. I had the requisite spices and herbs on hand so we went to work while Cora and Jeff's rescued greyhound, Katie Bugs, kept close tabs on the proceedings.

We made three kinds - spicy Italian-style pork sausages with fennel seeds, lamb sausages with rosemary and juniper berries, and chicken sausages with curry flavors. While we had Jeff's grinder attachment going, we also ground some beef for hamburgers, but the main event was the sausages.

Someone wise once said that it's better not to know what goes into making sausages; ignorance is best. I guess that's true if you don't make your own. Once you actually see what goes in, it's easy to understand how unscrupulous people could add just about any scary thing to the mix. But when you grind, season and stuff your own, it's comforting because you know exactly what went in. No fillers. No mysteries. Just good ingredients, carefully handled.

That's not to say there isn't a positive disgust factor, not to mention a certain amount of schoolboy hilarity, as the makings are forced into the casings. Scatological and sexual innuendos aside, it's an interesting process that we all enjoyed. We got our hands messy, we all took a turn at all the stages of the process and we all giggled uncontrollably at the suggestive noises and double entendres, proving that none of us has a sophisticated sense of humor.

The recipes for the lamb and Italian sausages are here, thanks to National Public Radio's Kitchen Window feature. I will say that the 3 Tablespoons of salt* called for in the Italian sausage recipe may be too much for your taste - it certainly was for ours! That sausage will make the base for some future pasta sauce to dilute the salt. Other than that, it was really delicious and quite delightfully spicy.

The lamb sausage recipe is just perfect as written - deeply flavorful with a wonderful tang from the rosemary and juniper berries. Jeff flew by the seat of his pants on the chicken/curry sausages, so you'll need to be brave to imagine how to replicate those but it will be worth the risk - that curry/chicken sausage might have been my favorite of the three.

We are ridiculously pleased with ourselves, as well as replete with wonderful sausages. We grilled all three kinds and feasted on the fruits of our labors after freezing at least half of our product for a later day. It made for a memorable and scrumptious Independence Day.

*I figured out why ours were so salty - I used regular table salt instead of kosher salt and the smaller grains=more salt in the recipe. Use kosher salt, or reduce the salt in the recipe when you make them.

Like An Eight-Day Clock

One of the best things about a big ol' pot of soup is that you cook once, then rest on your laurels. You might adjust the seasoning or tweak it a bit for variety, but the basic work is done and you can get on to whatever else you need to do.

After that first meal, I leave the covered pot on the stove and just reheat the whole thing when I'm ready for the next serving - I don't even refrigerate it.*

I figure that as long as I bring it to a boil and keep it there for 10-15 minutes, any nasties lurking in the pot will be destroyed. I haven't poisoned anyone yet and it makes the soup taste soooo good when it has had all that extra time to mingle. Like a good cocktail party, everyone has a chance to meet everyone else and they have all made connections.

This time, I added some kale leaflets to this soup that I made a while back. I had never used this curly kale before; when I tasted it raw, it was very green and a little bitter. I'm pretty sure this is the stuff our mother forced us to eat when we were kids. But, immerse those frills in a pot of soup for 10 minutes of serious simmering and it turns into a whole different character. It softens and sweetens while retaining the ticklish texture that makes it so interesting.

The best thing about a big ol' pot of soup is that you can keep it going like an eight-day clock.

*Professional fool in a closed kitchen - do not attempt this at home.

Hot Ticket

Rather than another whine about our slow-to-arrive spring (although I'd have been fully justified to do so), I decided to make the most of it by making soup. I had a whole fridge full of ingredients just begging to be turned into a heavenly soup, so I granted their wish.

When building soup, it's always a plus to start with great broth. This time, mine was a gmish of the goozle left over from this meal, plus some broth made from the bones of a smoked turkey breast that I grilled on one of those precious few warmer days combined with a soupçon of lamb stock simmered from the skeleton of a gorgeous quintet of chops that we devoured last week. (Don't be afraid to mix your bones when making stock - it leads to all kinds of interesting combinations). With all those barnyard denizens taking part in this soup, it was bound to be stellar.

To flesh out a good soup, you also need lots of veggies that lend their flavors, textures and aromas, but it hardly matters which ones you use. I was aiming for an Italian sort of combo, so I started with garlic, five cloves of it, coarsely chopped and sizzled in some olive oil before adding chopped onion, fennel, celery and spring onions (red ones).

Once they had softened, I added the broth, sliced in two pre-cooked spicy Italian sausages and picked the carcass of a little chicken we had earlier in the week to add shreds of that to the pot, as well as some fresh thyme and oregano from the pot on my front steps. Oh, and a can of diced tomatoes.

All that simmered together for the better part of an afternoon. When I was ready to serve, I put a handful of frozen peas into the pot to thaw and lightly cook just in the heat of the broth. I had thought to add some pasta to the soup for extra body but I always regret it when the pasta gets too soft in subsequent servings. Instead I grilled slices of herb slab bread and rubbed them with cut garlic cloves, balancing them on the edge of the soup bowl for dunking.

The view outside the windows was socked in with fog right down to the water and a misting rain was wetting the deck but indoors the soup was warmly brown and filled with a welcome heat, both from the stove and from the spicy sausage. It was a hot ticket for a cold, gray day.

We Like A Quickie

After a busy and social weekend in which I gave a casual dinner party on Friday, attended a lovely dinner/birthday celebration on Saturday, strolled for hours around the Alameda Swap Meet (an amazing experience, by the way) on Sunday and entertained a delightful house guest on Monday by driving to Sonoma for lunch at the Girl and the Fig followed by wine tasting at the Buena Vista winery, I was wiped slick. After dropping the guest off at the airport, I went home and took a long, long nap.

When I awoke at nearly dinner time, I was still without energy for any kind of serious cooking. Thank heavens for the contents of the fridge and pantry - no shopping required!

I started boiling water for a package of Eduardo's penne pasta while I browned in olive oil the meat that I crumbled out of the casings of two Fra' Mani Italian sausages, then lowered the heat and added three minced cloves of garlic. As they sizzled together, I cut up broccoli florets and stems into bite-sized pieces, sliced three nice big radishes, and chopped some scallions. When the garlic was nicely fragrant, I added first the broccoli to cook for a minute or two, then the radishes. The penne was drained briefly and tossed into the pan with the rest of the ingredients and stirred until it was coated with all that garlicky, meaty glory before plating and serving with a hunk of ParmReg to grate over the whole.

The only thing I'd change about the entire weekend is that I'd use spicy Italian sausage next time. This was really good, especially considering it was a quickie, but it would have been even better with some spicy sausage bits, or some hot pepper flakes added. Still, we quite liked it.

Bargain For Dinner

I am a cheapskate. There's no getting around it, I'm a cheapskate. I love it when I can make a meal out of nothing and have it taste like something special.

Artichokes. I know they are local because a) pretty much nowhere else on earth grows them and b) I learned in my botany class that there are varieties that bud in fall as well as in spring. Plus, you can't get them for 79 cents if they aren't local.

Italian sausage. I've been on an Italian sausage kick recently and had half a sausage left from another dish I made a few days ago - I call that almost free.

Rice. I had to cook more of that for Cora's lamb-and-rice dinner anyway (yes, her tummy is still unsettled), so just sneaked out a little to stuff the artichokes.

Onion. Found it hiding in the very bottom of the vegetable bin in the fridge. Definitely a freebee.

Shallot. Ditto.

Lemon juice. My Beloved's daughter Katie gave us a huge bag of lemons - a bonus!

Herbes de Provence. I always have it on hand and only used a healthy pinch. Can't count that cost.

Olive oil, just a driz for browning the sausage and softening the onion/shallot. Hardly worth mentioning.

But, combine them all together and they make a pretty nice meal.

I cut the top third off the artichokes with a big, sharp knife, hollowed out the centers and removed the chokes with a metal tablespoon, then stuffed the mixture of sausage, onion, shallot, rice, lemon juice (to taste - mine was pretty tart) and Herbes de Provence into the middle. Steamed the whole thing for about 30 minutes, until the bottom of the artichokes was easily pierced with a knife.

Not bad for a budget dinner.

Substantial Substrate

A few days ago, I made a delicious and beautiful veggie melange that My Beloved tasted and said, in essence,"Where's the beef?" He's a dedicated carnivore, even more so than I am. Not wanting to a) finish the giant pan of veggies all by myself or b) throw them away, I decided to doctor them up as a cushion for a couple of poached eggs.

I started by sautéing in just a driz (not a full drizzle) of EVOO one and a half Italian sausages, squeezed out of their casings into little bibbits that I browned thoroughly before adding a chopped onion and three minced shallots to soften in the sausage drippings. Added the already-roasted, diced veggies and let them all get familiar with each other over a low flame. When they were a little toasty and starting to brown and get crisp, I boiled some water and poached a couple of eggs per eater.

Poaching eggs is easy - the ticket is to start with very hot water just deep enough to cover the eggs, rapidly boiling. Crack each egg and lower it almost into the water before opening the shell and letting it slide very gently into the water. (Vinegar in the water makes everything taste icky - don't do that).

The cool eggs will stop the boiling of the water - this is good. Turn the heat down to the lowest setting and just let them sit in the simmering water until they are done to your liking. I test the white - when it is firm to the touch of a spatula, the yolk will still be runny. If you like the yolk to be firmer, just wait a few more minutes and watch carefully as the yolk hardens from the outside toward the center.

Scoop out the eggs with a slotted utensil when they are perfectly to your taste and hold them at a gentle angle against the side of the pan to allow the excess water to drain away. They are slippery little devils - if you make the angle too steep, they will slide back into the water and you'll have to go fishing again.

I plated the veggie/sausage mixture and topped it with the eggs. The yolk trickled down amongst the veggies, enriching an already pretty rich dish. Nobody went to bed hungry. My Beloved was less enthusiastic about this dish than I was but he liked it better than the pre-sausage, pre-onion stage. I'm happy that there is just a small serving of the mixture left, which I will heat for my lunch and top with another egg.

Falling For Kabocha

Where did I read about this idea - to brown sausages (I used mild Italian sausage this time) in an ovenproof pan, then add squash slices to the same pan and slide it into the oven until the squash is tender? I'm having a senior moment. If you are out there, please weigh in and take credit, for this was not only easy it was heavenly.

The sausage renders some fat to coat the bottom of the pan - not too much! - and cooking the squash in that elixir of sausage lends it all kinds of flavor. I did sprinkle on some of my favorite Herbs de Provence for added zest, but it would have been lovely just plain, too. I didn't even peel the squash - once it's tender, it's easy to remove the rind.

I used the lone kabocha squash left in my little market because they had no butternuts, and it was a revelation. I have tried kabocha squash before but this application is perfect for it. I wish I had roasted the whole squash this way, as the leftovers would have made for a wonderful roasty soup - I may actually have to serve this again this week just so I can do that.

For an easy and tasty fall dinner, try this sausage-and-squash combo; I think you'll fall for it, too.

The Dwarfs' Dinner

This cold has made me think of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. In fact, I think I've actually been at least four of those dwarfs, myself, this week - namely, Grumpy, Sleepy, Dopey and Sneezy. I think I need to stop being Bashful and just call Doc! Once this cold has passed, I'll be Happy.

Okay, now you see how sad my condition is, when I'm reduced to actually working at finding ways to incorporate all seven names into my opening paragraph. I even thought it was clever. Truly pathetic.

Anyway, I've been playing around with pasta dishes while I've been ill and I think I hit the Holy Grail last night. I had some halibut fillets in the fridge and a single mild Italian sausage left from my earlier attempt and, somehow, to me the combination of the two seemed really appealing, although very strange. What the heck, I couldn't taste much with a stuffy nose, so why not try it? If it's a disaster, so be it.

My Beloved and I sat down with some trepidation to the finished bowls of capellini topped with fish in a soupy, tomato-y, spicy broth but the first taste was like a divine revelation - nothing short of enlightening. Hallelujah! Halibut and sausage were made for each other!

This is easily the best dish I've made in a month of Sundays. It cleared my head with its fragrant heat and the flavors melded perfectly. We slurped it down 'til there was only a little red goozle in the bottom of the bowls. I should have served some good, rustic bread with it so we could have sopped up the last few drops - as it was, I just tipped up the bowl and drank the last bit. My very proper mother would have been appalled.

The next morning, I awoke with a clear head - no more sniffles. Apparently, this dish is also a cold remedy. I can't say I'm looking forward to my next cold but I know for sure what I'm going to cook up when it comes. Snow White would be proud.

The Dwarfs' Dinner

1 Italian sausage, about 10" long

2 cloves garlic, minced

Olive oil

1 can fire-roasted, chopped tomatoes

1 leek, light green and white parts only, coarsely chopped

2-3 fresh roma tomatoes, coarsely chopped

2 cups chicken broth

Microplaned zest of one lemon, plus the juice of the lemon

1Tbs. Sartain's Menu sauce (this is a smoky, spicy sauce)

Black pepper to taste (you won't need salt as the sausage is salty)

Capellini pasta (or your favorite), cooked al dente

2 halibut fillets, skin removed, if necessary

Green onion, sliced, for garnish

Using just a slick of olive oil to coat a wide frying pan (you won't need much as the sausage will provide plenty of fat), squeeze out dabs of the sausage from its casing to make perhaps two dozen tiny meatballs and brown them on both sides. When the fat has rendered from the sausage and the meat is well browned, add the garlic and cook carefully, so it softens but doesn't brown. Add the next seven ingredients, stir to mix, and cook over a low flame for about 10 minutes. It will be very liquid and soupy and it will smell like the open door to Heaven.

In the meantime, bring your pasta water to a boil with some serious salt and add the pasta. Drain and remove pasta to soup or pasta bowls. Be sure to set the table with a big spoon and a fork - you'll need both.

After simmering, turn the heat to low and push aside the ingredients in the pan to make a well for the fish fillets. Cover the pan and poach the fish in the sauce very gently, just until it is white rather than clear and it flakes apart, perhaps five minutes depending on the thickness of your fillets, turning it once gently if the fish is thick.

Serve the fish over the pasta, topped with the pan contents and garnished with the green onions. Serves 2-4.

Cold Comfort

No, I haven't resorted to eating pasta cold out of the fridge. Rather, I have a cold and seem to be craving the comfort of pasta. This cold seems also to have stimulated my improvisational gene - I've been trying all kinds of weird combinations.

This one was the best so far. Italian sausage and rehydrated wild mushrooms from the big bag I brought home from Cape Cod in a rich, garlicky, tomato sauce dotted with garbanzo beans. Oh, and the Secret Ingredient.

I used all the usual Italian indicators - garlic, basil, red wine - but improvised with the Secret Ingredient - a tablespoon or two of espresso powder to darken the flavors. It was molto bene! So good, in fact, that I plan to use espresso powder in all my tomato pasta dishes from now on.

The fragrance elicited memories of passing coffee houses on Italian streets on a hot day, when I was sixteen and young men called after me as I passed on the street, declaring undying love and devotion, if only I would stop and chat. Holding their hands over their hearts or out in supplication, their shiny dark curls glistening in the sun, their sincerity was compelling, if fleeting. When, scandalized and secretly thrilled, I didn't stop, the next girl who came along got the same treatment.

But, when you are feeling very sorry for yourself, both because your head is all stuffed up and because you didn't stop and chat all those years ago, this pasta brings some small comfort.

Cold Comfort Pasta

1 mild Italian sausage (or you can use spicy, if you prefer), about 8-10 inches long

6 cloves of garlic, diced finely

olive oil

1 can fire-roasted chopped tomatoes

1 can whole peeled tomatoes

2 cups red wine, divided

1 can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed

2 Tablespoons dried basil

a handful of mixed, dried wild mushrooms rehydrated in one cup of the red wine

2 Tablespoons freeze-dried espresso coffee powder

Your favorite pasta - I like capellini

Parmesan cheese, freshly grated

Green onions, sliced

Immerse the dried mushrooms in one cup of the wine and leave to rehydrate, perhaps half an hour. When the mushrooms are softened, in a wide pan heat a drizzle of olive oil over medium-high heat and squeeze the sausage out of its casing, dropping about 12 one-inch meatballs into the hot oil. When the meatballs have browned on one side, turn them over and add the garlic. Watch carefully - you don't want the garlic to burn. When the garlic is fragrant and softened, add the tomatoes (chop or squish the whole ones with your hands), the second cup of wine, the mushrooms now softened and the wine in which they rehydrated and the rest of the ingredients. Cook over low flame for about 15-20 minutes. Serve over your favorite pasta, topped with fresh green onions and grated Parmesan cheese. Serves 4-6.

The Secret Ingredient

Are you one who shares their recipes, secret ingredients and all? Or are you the kind who gives your recipe but sneakily leaves out that one addition that makes it great? I recently discovered, almost by accident, a "secret" ingredient - strong coffee.

A few weeks ago, I made cold-brewed coffee and My Beloved and I have been enjoying tall glasses of iced coffee ever since. It's a hit in this household - powerful and smooth, it has jazzed up several sagging afternoons.

Fast forward to last night, when I was making a quick pasta sauce with meatballs. Squeezed Italian sausage out of its casing to brown in a wide skillet, then removed the "meatballs" and sautéed garlic chips, chopped onion and chunked mushrooms in the same pan. Added a 16 ounce can of organic tomato sauce, two fresh chopped tomatoes, a handful of dried herbs (use your imagination) and a big glug of red wine. Simmered for about half an hour, then turned it off and went about my day, returning at dinner time to simmer it again. It was good in that rich and friendly way that Italian food always is, but not spectacular until I added the secret ingredient.

A splash of that crazy-good coffee. The sauce darkened and deepened dramatically, changing from Margaret to Sophia Loren. The coffee also made the sauce just a little too bitter, so I added about two teaspoons of sugar and stirred it all in together. Tossed with some straw and hay fettucine from Eduardo's of San Francisco, it was like love - messy, delightful and lifegiving. Next time you make red sauce, don't forget the secret ingredient.

Impromtu Italian

Why am I craving wintry dishes now that spring has finally arrived? Or maybe it's the really ripe tomatoes of the future that I'm wishing for? Whatever the reason, I made a quick sauce the other day that featured pasta for winter and tomatoes for summer. I'm all mixed up.

So was this dish.

I used Jamie Oliver's trick of squeezing Italian sausages out of their casings to make the meatballs, which I browned quickly in very hot olive oil before setting them aside. I like them to be brown and caramelized but still soft and luscious inside.

In the same pan (both to save flavor and dishes), I sautéed a chopped onion and four sliced garlic cloves over a slightly lowered heat, added sliced mushrooms along the way, a big pinch of herbs de Provence and an even bigger pinch of fennel seed to toast for a few minutes before dumping in a can of chopped tomatoes and all the juice. And a splash of white wine, which diluted the color but added flavor, a nice bonus.

When all those ingredients had gotten to know each other over a low flame, I added back the sausage meatballs and their accumulated juices, stirred it all around and added the cooked vermicelli directly to the pan to toss and absorb all the goodness.

The whole thing took about 30 minutes. It might have improved a bit by some longer, slower simmering but I was in a hurry for this impromptu Italian dinner. I'm all mixed up, as the seasons around here have been for months.

Ready For Spring, Stuck In Winter

Last week, we were still stuck in winter with drenching rains and high winds. Easter was a washout and Easter Monday was spotty with squalls. We are ready for the return of our dependable sunshine, thank you very much!

Here's a winter dinner with a touch of spring - vermicelli with fresh Swiss chard added. It was simple to make, quick and filling. The Swiss chard came from my inexhaustible plants out in the garden, the vermicelli and canned tomatoes from the pantry.

All you do is sauté some chopped onion and minced garlic in the same pan where you browned slices of Italian sausage (mine were fully cooked already so it took just minutes), add a can of chopped tomatoes and about half a can of white wine, raid the herb garden (or the spice jars) for oregano, crushed red pepper, yadda, and simmer it all together for about 15 minutes. While it melds into a lovely sauce, boil the pasta and drain it, adding it to the rest of the ingredients and tossing it around to soak up all those lovely flavors. At the last minute, add about six sliced leaves of Swiss chard, just long enough to wilt them. A block of ParmReg at the table with a grater and everyone gets the amount of cheese they favor.

Do not begin screaming if the cheese reminds you of snow and that reminds you that it's still winter when you are yearning for spring.

The Italian Job

When I made the Tortilla Soup last week, I thought nothing could ever be better than that. It was literally one of the best meals I have ever made. My Beloved and I were sorely tempted to abandon all the table manners our mothers had worked so hard to instill when we were children and to drink it straight from the bowl - it was that good!

Luckily, there was a little left over. The chicken was all gone but the broth with some of the veggies was tucked carefully away in the fridge to re-emerge the other night for a second go-around.

This time, I browned some mild Italian sausage in small "meatballs" until it was all caramelized and a little crispy on the outside. Warmed the soup, poached some sliced fresh green beans and additional fresh corn in the broth, then added the sausage bits at the last minute.

Now I have two contenders: Mexican or Italian? It's a tough decision when both are the Best Soup I've Made, Ever!