Ligurian Cuisine: Lasagna al Pesto

After giving you a glimpse of Cinque Terre:  http://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2017/04/on-to-cinque-terre-part-i.html

Then introducing you to Ligurian cuisine:  http://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2017/04/lunch-with-daniela-cinque-terre-part-ii.html

And taking you on a tour of the five plus one villages:  http://stroudallover.blogspot.de/2017/05/cinque-terre-part-iii.html

I’m going to go way beyond and with the inestimable help of Daniella’s exquisite recipes allow your taste buds to travel to Cinque Terre.  Being a generous soul, I’ll even allow you to take complaining family and fickle friends along.  Airfare not included.

On our first journey (yes, there will be more than one), you’ll make two sauces and put them together to form the perfect lasagna.  But, it’s not just any lasagna.  This one has no meat and no tomato sauce, so put those cans of tomato paste back on the shelf, behind your expired cans of Chef-Boy-R-Dee spaghetti.  Today, you’ll sample lasagna as you’ve never tasted it.

Pesto Lasagna Ligurian Style, by Daniella

First off, what is Ligurian style?  Well, Liguria is the area of Italy, often known as the Italian Riviera.  It’s capital is Genoa and Cinque Terre is right on the coast, on the part that curves to the right.  (See the map)

Now that you’re enlightened, let’s get on with this fabulous dish!  No more interruptions please, except of course to refill my wine glass.  As was famously said, I often cook with wine and sometimes I add it to the food.

Lasagna al Pesto

Preheat the oven to 350ºF or 180ºC

Butter a 9 X 13 Inch (23 x 33 cm) roasting dish or pan

Lasagna noodles

2 Packed cups fresh basil leaves

2 Cloves garlic, finely chopped

3 Tablespoons pine nuts, plus 2 tablespoon to put on top of the finished dish.

¾ Cup of mixed and grated cheese (parmesan and pecorino) + more cheese for

dusting between layers

Olive oil, (see putting it together below)

2 Cups whole milk

4 Tablespoons butter

3 Tablespoons flour

Salt

Here’s a hint:  What we call Parmesan, in Italian is Parmigiano

 (Par-mi-jan-o)

Here’s another hint:  Pine nuts too expensive?  No basil handy?  Lots

of ways to make pesto.  Try spinach with walnuts.  Delicious!

Use fresh lasagna noodles, or a package of no boil noodles, approx. 1 1/2 lbs.

If using fresh noodles, add sheets one at a time to boiling water

for a minute, then plunge in cold water. Place each sheet on dry towel.

Pesto- (Make double or triple the amount of pesto, if you’re a pesto

lover, as I am!)

Clean the tightly packed fresh basil leaves in cold water, dry well. 

I mean really dry!  Roll them in a tea towel, or dish towel. 

Place the leaves in a food processor or blender and pulse them until they’re finely chopped.

Add the garlic and a large pinch of salt and turn on the processor.  With the

motor running, slowly add ½ Cup extra virgin olive oil, 3 T. pine nuts and blend

until uniform and creamy. Add the grated parmigiano and pecorino cheeses and

pulse again. 

Note: You’re going to spread the pesto over several layers, so if you used

only two packed cups of basil, you’ll want to thin the pesto with about ¼ cup of

water, or do as I suggest and make double or triple the amount to begin with!

Béchamel (bee-sha-mell) Sauce = Besciamella (bee-sha-mella) in Italian

Warm the whole milk on medium heat until almost boiling. In another pot

heat the butter.  When melted, stir the flour into the melted buttr and cook and stir

2 minutes.

Note the milk heating on the back burner.

Drizzle hot milk into butter-flour mixture, a half cup at a time.  Repeat until

you've used up the milk. Continue stirring (I use a whisk) until smooth and thickened. 

Add 1/4 t. salt.

Putting the Lasagna together:

Spread about 2 or 3 Tbs of béchamel on the bottom of the roasting pan, and cover

with one layer of pasta, cutting the pasta if necessary to fit the pan.

Add a thin layer of pesto and sprinkle with parmigiano. Add another layer of pasta

and then a generous layer of béschamel. Continue making 6 layers in the same way,

ending with pesto, béchamel and parmigiano. Sprinkle more pine nuts on top.

Pop it in the oven about 20-40 minutes, until the top is browning.  Let sit 15 minutes

before serving.

Gather friends.  Pour wine.  Serve Lasagna….but not yet.  More recipes to come!

You’ll end up with a full assortment of several absolutely delicious Ligurian courses!

Bought your tickets yet?  Only a matter of time!  And while you’re at it, you might

Want to stay at one of Daniella’s properties in Monterosso.  

Go to https://www.vrbo.com/475435 The six digits are the villa where we stayed, but

she has others as well.

Porn Kitchen

One of my faithful readers complained.  “Your recipes taste wonderful, but the writing needs something.  Can’t you add some porn?”

Yes, my perverted friend, I can do that.

Chicken Thighs

The tall blond sitting next to me at cooking class, leaned over and whispered, “I like the sound of chicken thighs.”  It must be the way she said thighs that made a shiver race up my spine, then turn around and race down, before making several other stops on its way out of town.

She gave me a slow wink.  She must be six feet tall, lanky.  I was thinking nice breasts. Must have said it out loud.  Mildred, our Chef Aujourd’hui said flatly, “You can use breasts, but thighs are juicier.”  She had a point.  The blond winked again.  Not sure if the blond meant breasts or thighs.  Either way, it would be a tough choice.  Maybe I can pick more than one.  The chicken wouldn’t mind.

“Peel and slice the onion,” Mildred said, but I was still doing an enney-meany-mine-moe on the parts of the chicken I would most like to fondle… I mean sauté.

The blond said, “I’m a few inches taller than you.”  What did she mean?  Did she just imply I’m a few inches short of what she needs?  She smiled and put a hand on my knee.  The knee was very happy and began to celebrate right away and passed the news on to my reptile brain which sent an urgent message to the sausage delivery boy.

“You’ll want to add butter and seasonings to the onions while they cook.  Don’t let them brown.” Meanwhile, the sergeant major in charge of my artillery and the first knee to get the news were still celebrating.

“Remove the sautéed onion,” said Mildred, which I did not agree with.  I was not in the mood to pull anything out.  Cookus interruptus was not in the plan.

“Put the chicken in the pan with a little oil and add a pat of butter,” Mildred said.

“Thighs, “ said the blond, “Chicken thighs.”  I put my hand on her knee. 

“Tits,” I said, “Chicken tits.”  I admit I was a little giddy. The blond squeezed my knee. Mildred scowled. She’s not known for her humorous side, wherever that is.  I know I haven’t found it.

“I crush my own tomatoes,” Mildred said.  She looked at me and squeezed her fist when she said it.

“I like olives,” said the blond, “the kind with nuts in them.”

“You mean pits,” I said, but quickly changed my answer.

“I do a lot of cooking,” she said.

“What kind of cooking?” I asked, hoping to get an answer that would please the Sergeant Major and the sausage delivery boy, whose chest was now swelling with pride.

“Lots of stuff,” she said.

Lots of stuff would do the trick for me.  Lots and lots of stuff.  “Ever use Crisco?” I asked.

“I use it on my body to you know firm me up before I go out naked to sunbathe.”  Actually that’s not what she said, but she did mention olive oil and I helped out her memory.

“Add the wine to the tomatoes and then you just let it simmer for a couple of hours,” Mildred said.

“Sometimes I simmer,” the blond said, “And sometimes other stuff.”

“Yeah,” I said, “I can imagine.  Other stuff is great for long weekends.  Crisco is too.  I’m also a huge fan of simmering.”

The blond moved her palm up my leg to shake hands with the sausage deliver boy.  “Thighs,” she said.

Pollo Piero: Peter's Chicken

8-10 bone in, skinless chicken thighs

1 large red onion sliced thinly

1 Cup pitted, spicy olives

3-4 large fresh tomatoes, roughly chopped, or 1 28 oz can whole tomatoes (I crush the tomatoes by hand)

1 Cup dry white wine

4 Tablespoons olive oil

1 Tablespoon butter (I use unsalted)

A spring of fresh rosemary really helps

Crushed red pepper to taste (I prefer this dish mild)

Salt and Pepper

Use a high sided pan , set the heat to medium, toss in some olive oil and butter, add the sliced onions, along with a pinch of red pepper and cook until translucent, about 7 minutes.

Set the onions aside.  Raise the heat.  Add the chicken and more olive oil.  Turn the chicken as needed to brown on all sides.  

Lower the heat, add the cooked onions, tomatoes, and wine.  Cook for about ten minutes and add salt and pepper to taste.

Cover and cook for 20 minutes.  Uncover and cook 15 minutes more.  The dish is done when the chicken is tender to the bone..

Pressed for time?  Make it the day before and refrigerate.  Warm it up in the oven.  Even better!

Ligurian Cuisine: Tarta di Limone

Mother’s Day is upon us.  Although my mother has passed on, she’s with me everyday, and especially every time I step in the kitchen.  Even as a small child, often I was right there by her side, stirring this or pouring that.  I knew cup and teaspoon and tablespoon measures before I could read. My mother also showed me how to measure spoonfuls by the open palm, that-looks-about-right method.  One of her specialties was Lemon cake.  Gracious, I can still taste that lemony flavor that permeated my childhood dreams.  I was a championship bowl licker.

So, when I got to Cinque Terre and found out we would be making Tarta di Lemone with our hostess, Daniella, I found myself convulsed with inner turmoil.  You know the feeling: this can’t be as good as my mother’s, but I have to be nice to my hostess.  No need to fret, and one check of Daniella’s recipe will tell you why.  My mother’s was made with real lemons and no shortcuts.  No cake mix. No lemon curd from a can, or squirts of lemon juice from a plastic bottle.  Ditto in Daniella’s kitchen!  With just the heavenly aroma, you can instantly tell a cake made with fresh ingredients. Oh, my goodness!

So let’s get back to Cinque Terre and the task at hand.  Tarta di Lemone.  A quick check of the recipe and ingredients tells the story.

This cake goes together like a dream…a dream of my mother’s kitchen!

Preheat oven to 325

baking time 50 minutes

In a small bowl mix together:

1 cup flour

1 tsp baking powder

half tsp salt

In a small bowl mix together:

¼ cup yogurt (or milk)

1 tsp vanilla

In a medium bowl cream together: (I used a handheld, electric mixer)

1 stick butter (softened)

¾ cup sugar plus 2 T

zest of 2 lemons

Add 2 eggs one at a time and mix well after each.

Alternating, add the flour and yogurt mixtures to the butter/sugar mixture, then add 2 T fresh lemon juice.  (About one lemon’s worth)  Mix well.  You’ll have a light, fluffy batter.

Put the batter in a buttered/floured loaf pan and bake until a knife comes out clean.  Note: in my oven, the cake needed about seven minutes longer to bake. Let the cake cool 10 minutes then invert onto a rack. 

Slice the cake and pair it with berries and whipped cream.  And, don’t you dare use a can of pre-whipped cream…or sin of sins, Cool Fluff!

In this recipe, the cake’s deep lemon flavor isn’t overpowered by sugar and I like to keep it that way.  No icing.  Let the whipped cream and berries do their work of enhancing and adding depth to the flavor. Your only other job is to have a glass of milk close at hand…make that a quart!

Come on now!  Mother’s Day is only a day or two away!  Let’s be kind to our childhood memories!  Daniella sure helped me refresh mine!