The past is a strange mirror to look into. And sitting here, in the attic surrounded by boxes and old sketchbooks from art college I feel my breath catching a little with memories.And all that work I did in college? Well, looking at it now, it wasn't very good. Does everything we do pale and fade into the average when we look back, only the occasional thing really standing out as any good? Or is everything preparation for what is to come, footnotes and experiences on our journey?But life isn't about everything being incredible, the highlights wouldn't be highlights if there was nothing to compare them to. Mostly we go along, quite happily, occasional highs, occasional lows, but mainly somewhere in the middle.Most of the food I cook is nice enough, nothing spectacular, but then there is the occasional thing that goes into the canon of special food that's a real treat. Simple things generally, like a roast chicken, drowning in tarragon butter and encased in crisp Parma ham; softly scrambled eggs infused with curry leaves and spices and served with lots of green chillies; beans, chorizo and broth with pork; simple fish curry; tagliatelle with chestnut mushrooms, chilli, garlic and olive oil; salmon with curried spelt; a tomato salad at the height of summer, dressed with shallot vinaigrette and chopped parsley.*All these things are in contrast to an average midweek meal of a risotto for example, or even a jacket potato with butter and cheese. A meal made with not much more than an easy supper in mind. Perhaps some cubes of garlic courgette liven it up a little, or a salad on the side cuts through its comforting richness, but it's still the everyday. And that everyday should be celebrated as much as the extraordinary. A little touch of something extra here and there can make things livelier than you think. If things are done with care, no matter how simple, they mean something and are greater for that thoughtfulness.We last had pizzoccheri about seven years ago, cooked for us by Mary Ann in her apartment in the Alto Adige, northern Italy. Hearty and rustic it was served with the traditional chard which I've swapped for tender stem broccoli. For some reason, it's a dish that has stuck in my mind. I don't know why particularly, it's nothing special. It's comforting and homely, just the meal to get your strength up for a long day's Italian sheep herding, or whatever they do that close to Switzerland.The pasta is so easy to make, you roll it by hand so there's not even a need for a machine. I'm of the belief that drenching things in garlic butter will generally improve them -- unless its the jam knife for your morning toast, which has the opposite effect -- and that is the case here. You would think buttery garlic potatoes, comforting ribbons of pasta and healthy greens cooked together with melting cheese is heavenly. I thought so, but the rest of the family were less than impressed. There were upturned noses and downturned mouths.Maya liked the potatoes (who wouldn't?) but not the rest, Noah seemed like he'd spent the meal having to read a report on boredom and Bee said it "had potential, but even if it is a 'classic' recipe that doesn't mean we need to eat it."If you don't want to make the pasta yourself, use a wholemeal tagliatelle or something with a little weight to it. And you can use shredded savoy cabbage or chard as the original does. I used Tilly Whim cheese from Farmdrop instead of the traditional Fontina or Tomi. It needs a semi-soft cow's cheese that will melt deliciously over everything. You could use coarsely-grated Gruyere too if you like.IngredientsFor the pasta:50g plain flour150g buckwheat flourA pinch of saltEnough water to bring it together into a nice softish dough. About 150mlFor the rest:300g small potatoes, or Maris Pipers, cut up200g tendereste broccoli, sliced in half, lengthwiseA good few handfuls of cheese such as Tilly Whim or FontinaA generous grating of Parmesan50g butter2-3 cloves of garlic, finely gratedA drizzle of olive oilSalt and pepper to seasonMethodMake the pasta by bringing together the flour, salt and water in a large bowl and mixing until it comes together in a flaky dough. Continue kneading, rolling and stretching it in the bowl until you have a smooth, silk and slightly elastic dough. Add more flour to it to help keep it from sticking to your hands as you go.Leave it to rest, covered for about half an hour.Heat the oven to 180c.Make the garlic butter by heating the butter until melted, seasoning well then add the garlic. Heat gently for a few minutes being careful to not let the garlic colour. Remove from the heat.Flour the worktop and roll out the pasta to about 1-2mm. Roll up and slice into ribbons then cut into pieces about 4-5cm long. Toss with a little flour to keep from sticking together.Bring the potatoes to the boil in salted water for about five minutes then add the pasta and cook for ten more minutes. Add the broccoli and cook for a couple of minutes then drain everything.Put a layer of the potato mix in a baking dish then sprinkle with half the cheese.Cover with the remaining potato, pasta and broccoli then add the remaining cheese.Season with a little salt and pepper, pour over the garlic butter and cook in the oven for about twenty minutes, until the cheese is melted and starting to brown.Drizzle with a touch of olive oil and serve hot.*There are of course, plenty of disasters and things that were best glossed over, never to be repeated, but certainly to be learned from.
Pizzoccheri, broccoli, garlicky, buttery
in Recipes
Please send food. Dear God, get me away from this buffet.As the Jadrilinija ferry passes by us from the small port on the mainland to the island of Korcula yet again, it relentlessly marks the passing of another hour and washes us with an existential crisis in its wake. We grimly load up our plates from the groundhog day buffet, repeating an endless doom laden meal as if condemned to eat fatty garlic sausage and rubbery scrambled eggs for breakfast every day for eternity.Still, the children liked it. But what do they know? They eat frozen pizza with relish, or perhaps that should be gusto. And I don't wish to sound spoilt, a two week holiday in the sun, the chance to read a lot of books and occasionally dip into the water was welcome, but food plays such an important part of a holiday. When there is nothing much else to do, meals become almost as exciting to look forward to as Christmas. And then when you get another woolen jumper from your gran that she knitted herself while drunk and asleep, the disappointment is crushing.Yet there were a couple of high points food-wise. Some of the fish was excellent. Smoky, thick amberjack steaks cooked on the fire and a slow cooked lamb and veal stew. There was also a pretty good octopus salad and the bag of pretzels from the shop was tasty. These meals were courtesy of the restaurants up the road, and although few and far between, they at least meant I wouldn't forever condemn Croatian cooking as nothing but spinach and potatoes mixed together and served with a bit of dry meat or pallid fish.The real winner was a dish I will remember for a long time. Up in the hills, looking over the channel, I had a huge plate of devil fish carpaccio, served with lemon oil and a fine dusting of grated black truffle. The setting and the flavours were perfect.Now we are back, I am so grateful to be back in my kitchen again. Good food isn't difficult to make so I'm always amazed when so little care and attention goes into food you get served by so-called chefs.This recipe is one of my favourites and goes a little way toward reminding me what good simple food can be. Don't be scared of making your own pasta, it's really easy. Just make sure you let it rest after making it to let it become silky and elastic and that you roll it thinly enough so it isn't like chewing through a tennis ball. A pasta roller is, therefore, a good investment. If you don't have one, a rolling pin and good arm muscles is all you need. Just think of all those nonnas in Italy. World champion arm wrestlers, they are... And perhaps next year, that's where we'll go.Ingredients1 small tub of ricotta2 small bags baby spinachZest of a lemonA handful of cashews, choppedSaltFor the pasta:500g strong flour4 eggs2 egg yolksSaltServe with excellent olive oil, basil leaves and lots of grated Parmesan.MethodMake the pasta by blitzing the eggs, yolks, flour and salt together into a sandy breadcrumb texture in a food processor then knead gently into a dough. Or, if you prefer, make a flour volcano, crack the eggs and yolks into the middle with the salt and bring it together very quickly into a dough. Wrap in clingfilm then chill in the fridge for at least half an hour.Make the filling by quickly cooking the spinach and squeezing out as much water as you can.Chop the spinach and mix well with the lemon zest, nuts and ricotta then season well. Add a little squeeze of lemon juice if you like.Roll the pasta out as thinly as possible and use a pastry cutting circle to cut into raviolo. Cover them with a damp cloth to stop them drying out.Put a tablespoon full on half the circles leaving a gap around the edge.Brush around with some beaten egg or milk and top with the remaining discs.Squeeze together the edges and try to not trap any air inside the parcels.Bring a large pan of heavily salted water to the boil and cook the pasta for three or four minutes until done.Drain and serve immediately.
Sometimes I like to pretend I'm an Italian nonna, sitting at a table outside my stone-walled house gently rolling fresh conchiglie as my black dress flaps in the breeze. I'd chat with my neighbours, the old Montalbano and Captain Alberto Bertorelli from 'Allo 'Allo, all of us fanning ourselves with our headscarves.Perhaps not, but I do like to take pasta making seriously. It's such a simple thing, yet comes in so many shapes and sizes. It can be like origami at its most intricate or as simple as cutting the sheet into strips. And that's what I've done here. You need to set aside some time to prepare the pasta, don't try and start this half an hour before you want to eat.I've used spelt flour this time, interchangeable with strong wheat flour, but sometimes it needs a little more moisture. This is something you'll have to judge by hand. You'll get used to it with practice.This recipe is simply a touch of garlic, marinated artichokes, lemon zest, chilli and parsley. Then topped, of course, with good olive oil. You can put this together just before the pasta cooks, it only takes a few minutes to warm in the pan.So sit down, channel your inner dolce vita and treat it like therapy. I like to play the soundtrack to