Pasta from Scratch

In 2001, whilst walking along the cobblestone streets of a lakeside village in northern Italy, founded before Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean blue, I came upon a little shop selling kitchen wares. We were preparing to pack up our things and move back to America, and I had debated whether or not to sink $60 into a metal contraption that makes long sheets of lovely yellow pasta. We had been introduced to the process at the home of an old friend in central Italy a few weeks before, and we were all smitten. What could be more quintessentially Italian than mixing eggs and flour on your countertop and rolling it into thin sheets, cutting them into ribbons, cooking them briefly in boiling water and consuming them an hour later with an amazing bolognese sauce?

My family is so intrigued with doing this, that my two sons have been known to secretly pack my pasta machine into their backpacks, take it to college and make fettucine for their friends! There must be something magical about it, don't you think?

So tonight, I take the girls down this well-worn path in my kitchen and show them the secrets to pasta fresca. One mustn't be too squeamish about touching raw eggs. There's lots of touching of raw eggs. Mound up several cups of flour and crack four or five eggs in the well. Then mix it with your hands. It's messy. But, oh so fun.

Menu: Homemade Fettucine with Bolognese Sauce
Greek Salad
Crusty Bread

Sometimes, it just doesn't seem like ten years ago that we lived abroad. Too long. It's time to go back. What a ten years it's been. I am always so grateful for the opportunities I've had along the way to experience life on different levels. There were wonderful things about living in Italy, but there were also inconveniences, difficulties, and of course, a lot of loneliness being away from home. But those years spent in foreign lands have certainly shaped me, and helped me to create the kind of home environment I love, and want to share with others. Turning on a little Andrea Bocelli, opening a bottle of Sangiovese, and cranking the handle of the pasta machine creates a relaxed and warm kitchen, full of rich memories to be shared.

Our Kentucky Pie Girl

There is a lovely lass that lives in my house. Her name is Jessie. She grew up near the Ohio River in Kentucky, and came to us during her four years at UNC. She wooed her way into our hearts via our oldest daughter, and has shared our home and enriched our lives for the past year, while she prepares for grad school. Since we were on a roll with guest chefs, I asked her to share some faves from the heartland.

Two things about Jessie:

#1 She has a sixth sense about food and cooking. Whenever we cook together, she has a keen eye for what works and what would work better. And she's creative.

#2 She was the "pie-girl" at a little country restaurant called "Moonlight BBQ" through high school and summers in college. In my book, these two qualities make her quite capable of teaching us something amazing.

So, although she was trying to break every stereotype a person might have about Kentucky (and all manner of fried things that come from there), we deep fried a lot of things. But we also had an awesome chicken casserole, some roasted mushrooms (not really from KY, but a new recipe she found online) and of course, pie. Lots of pie.

Menu: Sour Cream Chicken Casserole

Roasted Mushrooms

Fried Pickles, Onions, Banana Peppers, Cheese (oh my goodness, what else did we fry?)

Peanut Butter Pie, Coconut Cream Pie

Originally, we were just going to fry pickles. But then we all started searching through the refrigerator for other things that would be amazing dipped in egg and flour and sizzled til it turned tan. And we had some confidence about frying after the tostones last week. So, out came the vegetables, the cheese, and the banana peppers - this is where Jessie shines, because it was her idea that if pickles are so amazing deep-fried, then certainly other things with strong tastes would. Because, she said, "the flavors and textures play off each other." That is something Mario Batalli would say. See what I mean?

So after we had gorged ourselves silly on a deep-fry buffet, we settled in for the main course. No one had room for pie, but she had made TWO of each kind! So we had to stuff it down. Good thing there were boys around to eat. I had coconut cream pie for breakfast for a few days. And then we started giving it away to the neighbors.

It was all so yummy. Jessie always makes me laugh any time I'm frying anything...she says the smell of cooking oil makes her feel like she's home.

I guess that's why they call it "comfort food."