The smaller fennel bulbs at our farmers markets tend to have a more pronounced licorice flavor that pairs nicely with the tang of good tomatoes.
We've all had those post-farmers'-market moments when, while unloading your goodies, you remember that you actually bought three pounds of zucchini in an optimistic moment and now what the heck are you going to do with it? Well, this is what.
Moist chunks of smoked fish, nubs of tender asparagus and handfuls of fresh herbs come together in this pasta that sings of spring.
Here is Samin Nosrat's recipe for sugo, the classic Italian meat sauce that, depending on the region, is also known as Bolognese or ragu. This might not at first seem like a braise -- there's no featured chunk of animal protein -- but the principles are the same: a dice of onions, carrots, and celery; browned meat; a long, slow simmer in liquid. Making this recipe takes a few hours, so I usually prepare a big batch and freeze some of it in containers. Samin's recipe calls for pork and beef, but it can be made with any kind of meat, including chicken, duck, rabbit, or game.
Star chef Mario Batali's outstanding vegetable pasta boasts juicy roasted tomatoes with asparagus, Broccolini and shavings of ricotta salata cheese.
Steam the cauliflower florets and core over boiling water for about 3 minutes. Taste a piece. It should be on the verge of tenderness and not quite fully cooked. Set it aside.
I know this sounds like a Dr. Seuss recipe (only without the elastic scansion) but it is, as the Italians say, "sul serio," no joke. The green factor is not crucial, but since this came about because I happened upon some spinach-dyed stubby coils of trottole—the pasta shape named after its supposed resemblance (I don't see it) to a spinning top—it feels right to me. Serendipity is only part of the story: I have also always had a thing about pasta and blue cheese, both separately and in conjunction. This recipe is in many ways an evolution of the Pasta with Gorgonzola, Arugula & Pine Nuts in my Quick Collection app, and indeed you could make any sort of mishmash of the two. The major developments here are that I felt the need—or rather a fancy—to sprinkle the deep green of the pasta with the paler pistachios, and I add no cream or mascarpone (as I used to) since a little pasta-cooking water, whisked into the cheese, makes it as creamy as you could wish for. This is not a dietary stance, but because the starchy water doesn't mute the palate-rasping piquancy of the Gorgonzola.
This colorful pasta dish has been on restaurant menus as far back as I can remember. Patrons love the two-tone pasta, crispy peas, prosciutto bits, and creamy sauce. Your family and guests will ask for second helpings every time.
Ingredients