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*Or, ACD-Friendly Fast Food. Or, Intercultural Lasagna. Or, What to Do with those Nearly-Stale Nacho Chips.
Even though these days it takes me almost 15 minutes before I can stand up fully erect after first rolling out of bed (in which I sleep on my back, with 2 pillows under my knees so my spine can retain its proper curvature) in the morning; even though driving at night has become more and more an exercise in blinking and squinting than a convenient means to return home after a dinner out; even though I sometimes do a double take when walking by a mirror after thinking, “What the heck is my mother doing in there??”; even though my students perceive me more as a Nanny McPhee than a Sheba Hart–even though all these things are true, I still can’t help but feel as if, internally, I’m the same person I was in my 20s.
Getting older can really be a shock to the system, let me tell you. One of my class projects in nutrition school was to assess how sensory perception changes over time. Boy, was that ever a wakeup call! (Then again, it would have to be a much louder wakeup call if I were in my 80s). You see, for every year you age past, oh, about 18, each of your five senses diminishes. And the older you get, the more quickly and more dramatically they do so. (Are you depressed yet? Don’t worry, you will be–that’s more common when you’re older, too).
So, while we all may realize that sight and hearing fade with age (a 70 year old needs three times the light of a 20 year-old to see accurately–no wonder septuagenarians shouldn’t be driving!), most of us don’t really think about how our sense of taste diminishes as we grow older.
Well, the HH and I must be bordering on superannuation. (Okay, actually, it’s just the HH, but I didn’t want to make him to feel bad. That is, if he can still feel anything at his age).
I’ve noticed lately that the HH has started pronouncing my cooking ”not spicy enough” or “too bland” or “not flavorful enough” even when it seems fine to me (or is something that isn’t supposed to be spicy, like mock tuna or stroganoff. A recent exception was the vegan pasta carbonara, which he scarfed down anyway). Could it be that his taste buds are feeling a little exhausted after 50+ years of operation? Not sure. But I do know that what we eat has become more and more piquant over the years.
True, I’ve always enjoyed spicy eats, but my tolerance–and desire–for ramping up the heat has definitely increased of late. I’ll never forget a dinner party to which I was invited by my office mate when I first began teaching at the college; she had just come back from seven years living in Mexico and promised us an authentic feast.
While the rest of us guzzled cold drinks between tiny nibbles of fiery-hot mole appetizers, our hostess calmly plucked an entire jalapeno from a plate and, hoisting it by the stem, popped it in her mouth. Then she continued to relay her anecdote while chewing contemplatively, never even breaking a sweat. I was truly amazed by her seemingly asbestos-lined palate at the time; little did I know I’d be eating whole jalapenos myself (at least I stuff mine with goat “cheese” first) two decades later.
One evening last week, I had dinner plans with friends and wanted to leave something for the HH to enjoy at home. After viewing at least a dozen enchilada casseroles on other blogs as a result of the Daring Cooks event last month (plus Celine’s Mucho Macho Nachos and Angela’s Time Crunch Vegan Enchiladas) I was craving Mexican food. We had all the ingredients on hand, so I thought I would whip up some of the HH’s favorite nachos. Of course, I knew that jalapenos were non-negotiable. Not to mention super-spicy salsa (arriba!). Plus, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to make just a single platter versus the two we usually make: his, with ground beef and melted cheese; mine, with crumbled tempeh or tofu and cheesy sauce.
I grabbed all the ingredients and began prepping. Only one problem: the already-opened bag of nacho chips had been sitting too long, and the chips had lost their snap, bordering on stale. What to do?
Of course, I could have thrown them away. But that would have traumatized my inner frugalista. I could have given them to The Girls with their supper (“We vote for that choice, Mum!”), but that wouldn’t help with my dinner needs. What if I simply tossed all the ingredients into a casserole dish, and let them bake up? I envisioned a super quick, nacho-meets-enchilada dish. And so, the new, fast-food, ACD-friendly, Mexican nacholada casserole was born.
I mixed everything up and left it on the counter with a simple note:
Dear HH*,
Here’s a casserole for dinner. Heat at 350 for about 25 minutes, then take as much as you’d like. Have fun with The Girls!
xoxoxoxo kiss kiss kiss
Ricki*
Upon my return that night, I casually inquired, “Um, so how was the casserole?”
It’s true, the dish was so fiery hot it may have finally triggered the HH’s antiquated taste buds (in fact, you may wish to tone down the jalapeno screaming a few decibels in your own dish). True, I didn’t disclose in advance that this casserole was simply a new, unfamiliar twist on his oft-rejected vegan nachos. True, the HH was on his own that night, and would probably prefer to eat rose petals dipped in sand than have to whip up something of his own. Whatever the reason, the dish was a huge hit.
“That stuff was delicious!” he exclaimed. ”I loved it. You can definitely make that again.” (Hee hee). Even after I revealed that it contained tempeh and cheesy sauce, he was still enthusiastic. “Well, I don’t know why, but this time it tasted great,” he insisted (of course he forgot there hadn’t been a “last time,” since he’s always refused to try it in the past). Triumph!
I’m hoping this is the end of separate nacho platters from now on in the DDD household.
As is so often the case, the HH’s initial skepticism was overruled by the transformative deliciousness of my plant-based meal. And luckily, despite his natural penchant for meat, he’s happy to embrace a vegan meal “if it tastes good.” I guess that’s just one more reason why I’ve decided to stick around as we grow old(er) together.
* No, I didn’t really write, “HH” or “Ricki” on my note–I used our usual pet names for each other. But the HH would never speak to me again if I published them on the blog!
Layered Mexican Casserole
I call this “fast food” because it’s one of the few dishes I don’t make entirely from scratch. Jarred salsa is fine on the ACD if you find an organic brand with no added sweetener, vinegar, or other taboo ingredients. This casserole is a great way to use up less-than-fresh nacho chips (the chips absorb the moisture from salsa and cheese to become soft inside and crunchy on the edges of the casserole dish), but if your chips still crispy, feel free to assemble these ingredients in regular nacho fashion.
About 4 cups (1 L) nacho chips (or enough for 2 layers of overlapping chips in a 10-inch/25 cm casserole dish)–I used tri-color ones by Que Pasa
1 jar (about 2 cups/500 ml) medium or hot salsa of your choice (I used Neal Brothers)
1 batch crumbled tempeh bacon, tempeh sausage crumbles, or use my quick method, below
1 cup (240 ml) cooked, drained black beans
half a large red or green pepper, diced
1 medium jalapeno pepper (or less, to taste), sliced thin
1/2 cup (120 ml) sliced black olives (on ACD, use oil-cured)
1 recipe Dreena’s “Vegveeta” Cheese Dip/Sauce**
chopped cilantro, for garnish
** For ACD Stage I, use brazil nuts or macadamia nuts instead of cashews; use 1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) powdered mustard.
Quick tempeh crumbles: In a large sauce pan, crumble one package (12 ounces or 350 g) tempeh. Add 1 cup (240 ml) vegetable broth or stock; 1-2 Tbsp (15-30 ml) Braggs liquid aminos, tamari or soy sauce; 5-10 drops liquid smoke or 1/2 tsp (2.5 ml) smoked paprika; and 2-5 drops liquid stevia. Bring to boil over medium heat, then cover and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, until all the liquid is absorbed and the tempeh just begins to brown. Use in this casserole, in pasta sauces, sprinkled on salads, or in sandwiches.
Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Spray a 10-inch (25 cm) casserole dish with nonstick spray or lightly grease with oil.
Place a single layer of nacho chips in the bottom of the casserole dish, taking care to overlap so that little, if any, of the bottom of the dish is visible. Dollop about half the salsa randomly over the chips. Sprinkle with half each of the tempeh, beans, red or green pepper, jalapeno and olives; then drizzle half the cheese sauce over all. For the top layer, repeat the process, setting aside the peppers and olives; once the cheese sauce has been added, sprinkle the top with peppers and olives.
Bake in preheated oven for 30-40 minutes, until the casserole is hot throughout and the top of the cheese begins to brown slightly. Remove from oven and allow to sit 10 minutes before scooping out onto plates. Garnish with chopped cilantro, if desired. Makes 4-6 large servings. May be frozen.
This is my entry this week in Amy’s Slightly Indulgent Tuesdays event. Go check out all the other great recipes, too!
Last Year at this Time: Blog break (no entry).
Two Years Ago: Mint Smoothie
© 2010 Diet, Dessert and Dogs
Now that May has arrived, it’s time for the second SOS Kitchen Challenge from Kim at Affairs of Living and me! Thanks, again, to everyone who participated last time. You helped to make the inaugural event a huge success!
This month, Kim and I decided to go with another versatile vegetable that can be used in a host of different ways. Are you ready to exercise your kitchen creativity and cook up some Sweet or Savory dishes that contain. . .
SPINACH?!
Did you know that, of all vegetables, leafy greens contain the most nutrients? No wonder they’re considered the royalty of the vegetable world! And when it comes to spinach, Popeye knew what he was talking about: this veggie really is a nutritional superhero. With a light, delicate texture and mild flavor, it’s no surprise that spinach is the most popular of all the leafy greens.
Besides offering up ten times your daily requirement of Vitamin K (essential for healthy blood formation), three times the daily Vitamin A, and almost 100% of the daily manganese and folate, a cup of boiled spinach also provides a host of other minerals, vitamins, the amino acid tryptophan, and some heart-healthy Omega 3 fatty acids. The anti-cancer properties of spinach (and all leafy greens) are well-known; this delicate leaf can combat prostate and ovarian cancers, improve bone and cardiovascular health, keep your mind sharp and your eyes healthy (the latter mostly due to the carotenoid lutein, which has been proven to help prevent macular degeneration, a common cause of blindness as people age).
According to Paul Pitchford in his classic tome, Healing with Whole Foods, spinach is also a considered cooling food within the traditions of Chinese medicine; it “has a ‘sliding’ nature, which facilitates internal body movements such as bowel action and urination, and thus is treatment for constipation and urinary difficulty.” Moreover, the high chlorophyll and iron content help to build blood. (Beware, however, which spinach you buy; according to the Environmental Working Group, spinach ranks number eight in the top twelve fruits and vegetables most sprayed with pesticides. With spinach, if you can afford it, it’s best to buy organic).
If all the health benefits don’t convince you, how about the taste and versatility? I love using spinach raw in smoothies, as the main ingredient in a salad or the base for a yummy meal-in-a-bowl; cooked into a quick and easy Mediterranean Rice Casserole, or simply sautéed with garlic and soy sauce. And let’s not forget the sweet possibilities: how about some vegan molten chocolate cakes or (the easier option), chocolate-studded cupcakes?
Finally, I love that spinach is such a lovely shade of green–a fact that ties in nicely with Kim’s focus this month on Lyme disease (it’s Lyme Awareness month), and the “lyme” green logo!
To enter this month’s SOS challenge, simply create and post a recipe using spinach before the deadline of midnight, May 20, 2010, CST, and send it to soskitchenchallengeATgmailDOTcom (note: you don’t have to cook up an original recipe–any recipe that uses the ingredient is just fine, even if you found it somewhere else!).
For full details on what kinds of ingredients to use and how to enter the challenge, see this page. I’ll post the roundup (as will Kim, on her blog) a week after the deadline so you can take your time browsing through the amazing collection of recipes before the next challenge!
My first contribution to the challenge this month is this quiche that’s been a staple in our house for as long as the HH and I have been together (that’s more than a dozen years now–yikes!). In fact, it’s such a standby recipe that I was sure I’d already posted it–but couldn’t find it in the archives.
I first tasted quiche as a callow undergrad at the University of Windsor, one weekend when my room mate’s friend (who hailed from the booming metropolis of Toronto) came to visit. Ildiko (why is it all the good cooks I encountered as a university student had unusual names?) arrived with backpack in tow, from which she withdrew in quick succession, a bag of flour, a pound of butter, a carton of cream, various zip-loc bags of chopped vegetables, and, ultimately, a wooden rolling pin. It was like watching the Grinch and his bottomless bag of gifts at the end of How the Grinch Stole Christmas--every time she pulled out another item, I assumed it would be the last, but there was always one more to follow.
Right there in our dorm room, Ildiko mixed up a pie crust, deftly rolled it out on a piece of wax paper on my desktop, then transferred it, seamlessly, to the pie plate. Next she whipped together the eggs and cream, a few seasonings, and sprinkled in the chopped veggies. We baked the quiche in a toast-r-oven we had in the room, and as the scent began to fill the air, I suspected that quiche was something I was going to enjoy. Later, as we devoured slice after slice, the three of us polishing off the entire thing in no time, I learned that quiche came in infinite varieties–you could add pretty much any fillers you liked, but it was the custard that really defined it.
I can’t say I craved quiche over the years, but I did occasionally notice it on restaurant menus and think, “hmm, it would be nice to have a slice of that.” As with that first quiche back as an undergrad, though, it was the custardy texture that most appealed to me.
And then, I discovered silken tofu–and this recipe. This classic vegan quiche is one I found online and adapted (sorry, I can’t recall the source; so if the recipe looks familiar, please let me know!). To my palate, it reproduces almost exactly the same smooth-yet-firm, moist and creamy custardy filling. I’ve upped the veggies considerably compared to that first pie, but the general idea is remarkably similar to the “real thing.” In fact, this is one of my go-to recipes at home, and a regular feature when I teach gluten-free cooking classes.
With limitless possibilities for the vegetables in the filling, this quiche can be altered to your tastes and the occasion at hand. I use a handy millet crust, but again, feel free to change it up; if you’ve got a nice pastry crust that you think will go well with this, go ahead and use it.
To see Kim’s first spinach recipe (a creamy spinach and celeriac soup), check this post.
“Mum, real dogs do eat quiche, you know. As long as you pick out the onions, that is. And we like that custardy texture, too.”
Classic Tofu Quiche (ACD-friendly, Phase I and beyond)
The real beauty of this recipe is its versatility–as long as the volumes stay the same, you can use pretty much any vegetables in place of those listed.
For the crust:
1/2 cup (115 g) dry millet
1-1/4 cups (300 ml) vegetable broth or stock
pinch of fine sea salt
For the filling:
1 Tbsp (15 ml) extra virgin olive oil, preferably organic
1 onion, diced
2 roasted red peppers or 1 fresh, sliced into thin strips
1 carrot, grated
1 cup very firmly packed spinach or chard leaves, stems removed, chopped
2 cups (700 g) firm or extra firm silken tofu, or soft tofu
1 Tbsp (15 ml) white miso (for ACD Phase I, use extra tahini)
2 Tbsp (30 ml) tahini (sesame paste)
1 Tbsp (15 ml) Bragg’s liquid aminos, tamari, or soy sauce
Preheat oven to 350F (180C). Lightly grease a pie plate, or line with parchment paper.
Prepare the crust: Pour millet into a small pot and add the broth. Bring to boil over high heat, then lower heat to simmer, cover, and let simmer for 25 minutes, or until almost all the liquid is absorbed and the millet is soft and beginning to fall apart (if necessary, add extra stock until the millet reaches this consistency). Stir well, then immediately pour the millet into the pie pan and, using the back of a spoon or wet hands (and being careful not to burn yourself!), press the millet into the pie plate to create a “crust.” (Dipping the spoon or your hands in water helps). Bake in preheated oven 10 minutes until slightly dry.
Prepare the filling: Heat oil in a large frypan and sauté onions for about 5 minutes, until the onion is translucent and soft. Add the pepper, carrot, and spinach, and sauté for another 5 minutes, until the spinach is wilted and other ingredients begin to soften. Cover and turn off heat.
In a food processor or blender, mix the tofu, miso, tahini and Bragg’s until very smooth. Pour the mixture over the vegetables in the pan and stir to combine well. Turn into the crust in the pie pan, and smooth the top. If desired, sprinkle with a little paprika.
Bake in preheated oven for about 30 minutes, until the top is light golden brown. Remove from oven and let sit for about 10 minutes to set before serving. May be eaten hot, at room temperature, or cold. Makes 8 servings. May be frozen.
I’m also linking this recipe to Linda’s Gluten-Free Wednesdays carnival over at The Gluten-Free Homemaker, as well as Meatless Monday at Hey What’s for Dinner and Meatless Monday at My Sweet and Savory.
Last Year at this Time: Vegetarian Veggie Burgers that are Made from Vegetables
Two Years Ago: Cultured Vegetables
I’ve decided to offer a mini-post every once in a while, for a dish that comes together incredibly quickly, or else is so easy to make that no recipe is required. Here’s today’s “Flash in the Pan.”]
[Oh, and before I continue: notice the photo? Notice anything different? Um, like, actual detail on the food? Well, this here is my very first shot with my new, stunningly beautiful, too-complex-for-my-current-level-of-knowledge, can't-believe-how-heavy-this-thing-is, smashing and awesome and really, you shouldn't have but I LOVE IT camera! It was my birthday gift from The HH last week, and I am thrilled to bits with it! (I can't wait to actually learn how to use it.)  For now, I'm still learning, so please excuse the awkward and unretouched photos that may appear here for a while. . . but wow, just look at those beans!!]
My friend The Architect married his highschool sweetheart this past weekend. Well, not literally. You see, they didn’t actually know each other in high school. However, she teaches high school, and she’s also his sweetheart; so, close enough. As both of them are extremely involved in environmental issues and preserving the local habitat, the wedding was an elegant event in a bucolic setting just north of where we live. And, true to form, the ceremony was outdoors, amid the towering maples and the burbling streams and the chattering squirrels. Oh, and the pelting rain and the occasional snowflake and the sodden leaves being torn from the trees and whipping across our faces path. Because, you see, it was late October. In CANADA. (Let’s just say, I wore earmuffs to the ceremony).*
Still, it was a joyful, enjoyable affair and the HH and I ate, drank, and danced like it was 1999. After so much weekend revelry, I decided I wanted something simple for dinner yesterday.
Now, it’s possible I’ve mentioned before that I am basically a lazy cook. Extremely lazy. And, as I (now) do with chickpeas for the occasional mock tuna salad, I also tend to keep cans of baked beans on hand for those occasional evenings when I crave their sweet, soft, quick and filling nourishment.
I didn’t even realize there existed specifically vegan baked beans until I was an undergrad in university, when I first lived (and cooked) on my own. Because my mother was an unacknowledged vegetarian herself, the only kind of baked beans she ever used were the “in tomato sauce” flavor (naturally vegan). In university, however, my room mate was the grocery shopper. One week, I requested canned baked beans, and she brought home the bacon beans. I opened the can in anticipation of my usual leguminous fulfillment. What I encountered, instead, was a single cube of pasty, greyish-white, gelatinous pork fat. At first, I couldn’t imagine what it was, but then I read the label and. . . wow, you wouldn’t believe how those saucy beans stick to the inside of the garbage can.
I love to eat baked beans just as they are, with a plump spelt bagel torn into pieces that I use to sop up the sauce. The Nurse doctors hers up with kethcup, mustard, maple syrup, corn kernels (!) and hot dogs (blech); the CFO makes hers from scratch (also vegan, but that’s just a coincidence). Lately, I’ve been trying to eat greens every day, so I thought about combining the beans with something dark and leafy. As it happened, my mind was already on steamed greens since I read about kale boiled in stock on Orangette (but 30 minutes? Molly, is that really necessary?) and Sally’s latest post on Beans and Greens. I figured, why not use up some chard I had in the house? Molly served her kale with eggs; and don’t those beans have a naturally ovoid shape? It was meant to be(an).
You won’t believe how easy this dish is. I loved the textural contrast of the beans’ exterior firmness and slightly creamy interior, set against the soft yet springy chard; the sweet-smoky bean sauce and the astringent bitterness of the greens, in every bite. Of course, you could also simply toss the two ingredients together, but those beans look so much more jewel-like when nestled sweetly inside the wreath of chard, don’t you think? A perfect way to follow up that weekend of celebrations.
I’ll be away visiting the CFO this weekend, so I’m going to miss all the Halloween fun! However, thanks to the magic of WordPress, I do have a Halloween-inspired post for y’all over the weekend.
Have fun Trick or Treating, everyone!
Baked Beans Nested on Greens
1 large bunch of your favorite leafy greens, washed, trimmed, sliced thin (chop and use stems if possible)
about 1/2 cup vegetable stock, any type
1 can of your favorite baked beans (or homemade if you have them), heated through
Heat the broth in a nonstick frypan or dutch oven over medium heat. Place the stips of greens over the liquid, press down to cover as much as possible, and cover the pan or pot. Reduce heat to low, and cook the greens until just wilted, about 5 minutes.
Meanwhile, heat the beans according to the directions on the can. Arrange the greens in a wreath on a plate, and gently spoon the hot beans in the center for a nested effect. Eat. Makes 2 servings. (Quick. Easy. Tasty. So simple, a little birdy could almost make it.)
“Mum, the beans look okay, but if that little birdy isn’t doing anything else, you know we’d be happy to, um, dispose of it for you. . . ”
* Let’s also just say, I want to move to California. Or New South Wales. Or the Bahamas. But no, I’m stuck here, where I wore earmuffs, on October 26th. The older I get, the more I realize: comfort trumps fashion, every time. And–why, yes, I do believe this marks the official launch of my “the weather is too cold I hate it I have to move away from here somebody save me” winter weather whingeing. And–lucky you!–it continues unabated, for the next 6 months!
[No, not "date" as in "dried fruit with pit and high sugar content." I mean "date" as in the classic Saturday night event, "evening out with someone you like and with whom you might like to be, um, romantic." ]
It’s been a whirlwind weekend, first, with a birthday dinner (THANKS for all those amazing well-wishes, everyone!) followed immediately by a wedding (the birthday dinner featured the HH and me; the wedding did not). More on both next time, once I’ve had a chance to catch my breath. Today, I’m just as excited to tell you about Date Pasta instead.
When we were undergrads in our 20s, one of the things that welded the friendship between my buddy Sterlin and me was our singleton status. No matter how many relationships and breakups the rest of our friends experienced, and no matter how many blind dates, dating services, personal ads, university parties or fix-ups we two endured, Sterlin and I somehow managed to remain perpertually alone (well, I guess technically we weren’t “alone,” since we spent most Saturday nights with each other–but you know what I mean).
Being permanently unattached until our mid-twenties (okay, fine, late twenties) didn’t mean we ever stopped trying, however. This pasta dish was Sterlin’s go-to recipe pretty much every time she wished to impress a potential boyfriend, or every time she scored a second date. It was quick, it was easy, it was foolproof, guys seemed to like it, and–most important–it was the only dish she knew how to make.
The guys in question, upon being served the pasta, would inevitably utter an appropriately impressed response, then spend an engaging evening drinking wine, gobbling up the pasta, and raving about how good it was, before leaving and never calling again. (What’s up with that, anyway? Was it something we said? Was it our nerdy demeanor? Were they just not that into us? Or were they perhaps paralyzed by our incomparable wit, intelligence and (reasonably) good looks? I guess we’ll never know. ) Despite its inability to produce a lasting relationship, Date Pasta was so good that Sterlin kept making it throughout our university career.
In fact, I was also so impressed with the dish (and ever hopeful about the fact that guys seemed to like it) that I asked for the recipe, and proceeded to cook it up dozens of times myself over the years. It wasn’t until the HH and I were happily ensconced in our current long-term relationship and sharing the same abode that I dared to cook it for him.
And then–magically–when the HH ate it, the curse was broken; he was able to love Date Pasta, and still love me, too.
I hadn’t eaten Date Pasta in years, though. First of all, the HH and I no longer go on “dates” (well, I suppose you could say our weekly sushi lunch together might qualify, but still). More importantly, however, the ingredient list of the original recipe contained spicy capicola salami, cut into cubes and flash-fried along with the other ingredients. These days, I feel about salami sort of the same way I feel about steak. When I altered my diet ten years ago, I placed the recipe in a file folder, and forgot about it.
This past week, the HH’s friend the Engineering Guru came over for dinner. Could it be that he resembled a guy I fancied in high school? Or maybe it was that he’s tall and strapping and I know he, like the HH, is an avid meat eater? Whatever the reason, Date Pasta came to mind. The HH even remembered it from our early days and enthusiastically coerced browbeat badgered encouraged me to whip it up again. So I did what I often do when cooking for the HH and me: I made a huge batch of the recipe in a meatless format I could enjoy, then let the guys add their own meat to their portions.
Why did I never think of this before? All these years, I’ve been avoiding Date Pasta, and missing out on this remarkably easy and delicious dinner! It’s so chock full of pungent, toothsome, salty and briny add-ins that it almost doesn’t need the pasta, and certainly doesn’t require the meat. Who knows? Maybe if I’d made it this way from the start, I’d have had more success in those early dateless years. (Then again, I would never have enjoyed all those Saturday nights with Sterlin). And so, Date Pasta, welcome back (can’t say that I miss the singleton status, though).
Oh, and now that I’ve finally made another pasta dish, I’m happy to submit this to Melissa at The Cooking Diva, who’s hosting Presto Pasta Nights, the weekly event originated by Ruth at Once Upon a Feast.
Date (or any other occasion) Pasta
While this is great as is, if you’re craving a meat stand-in, I think this pasta would be phenomenal with some cubed, smoked tofu as well.
1/2 large onion, sliced thin in half-moon strips
8 (yes, 8 ) cloves garlic, cut in quarters
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 pound (225 g.) button mushrooms, cleaned and quartered
1 can artichoke hearts, lightly drained (keep about 2 Tbsp./30 ml. of the liquid), halved
2 Tbsp. (30 ml.) capers, with some juice
1/3 cup (80 ml.) green and kalamata olives, pitted and cut in half
1 roasted red pepper, sliced thin
1/2-3/4 cup (120-180 ml.) grape tomatoes, cut in half
1/2 cup (120 ml.) tomato sauce or juice (optional)
linguine, enough for 4 people, cooked until just al dente
nutritional yeast, ground nuts (pine nuts are great for this), or chopped fresh parsley
While your pasta cooks, sauté the onion and garlic in the olive oil until the chunks of garlic begin to brown. Add the mushrooms, artichoke hearts, capers, and olives; lower heat, cover and simmer 5-8 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the mushrooms begin to give off a bit of liquid. Add the pepper, tomatoes, and tomato sauce, if using, and cover and simmer for 5 more minutes, until flavors have melded.
Drain the pasta about 2 minutes before it has reached perfect doneness (if you like it al dente, stop a couple of minutes before it reaches this texture). Drain the pasta and, while it’s still dripping, immediately toss it into the pot with the sauce ingredients. Toss to coat the pasta (there should still be some liquid in the bottom of the pot; if there isn’t, add about 1/4 cup water). Cover the pot and simmer 2 more minutes, stirring once or twice, until the pasta is perfectly cooked and has soaked up some of the liquid (it will also absorb some color from the sauce). Toss again and serve with a generous grinding of pepper and a sprinkling of nutritional yeast, ground nuts, or chopped parsley. Serves 4.
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