That’s Kara, intent on carefully stirring this big batch of Italian meatballs in hearty red sauce, the centerpiece of a meal made by her and fellow Brentwood Academy students attending our cooking seminar at Second Harvest.
For Winterim, she and eight others chose to come to our Culinary Arts Center to learn some kitchen skills and tasty recipes.

We are fortunate at our food bank to have a teaching kitchen. Each week, volunteers get hands-on experience in a commercial setting, preparing our Friday First Harvest Cafe buffet lunch.

Mark and I also feel strongly about teaching youth to cook—informing the palate and developing skills in the kitchen are as critical as reading, math and science (all of which come into play with understanding recipes, measurements, temperatures….)

We have designed a series of classes specific to teens. Periodically during the school year, we host these three-day seminars. On the first day, the kids make a big lunch for themselves. The next day, they cook a full course dinner to bring home to their families. The final day, they assist with our First Harvest Cafe: cooking and serving for the hundred-plus guests who attend.

In the summer, we offer COOKS RULE, week-long cooking camps that expand on some of the skills and recipes touched on in the smaller seminars. We have sophisticated menus exploring cuisines from around world and incorporating fresh local products from our farmers.

For this class, our students learned some Italian-American basics:
meatballs, tomato sauce, pasta, salad and red wine herb vinaigrette
The morning was spent preparing our lunch.

I developed these recipes to be straightforward and simple, without sacrificing flavor, and have found them to be well received by just about anyone interested in learning to cook. I’ve taught them to teens and to formerly homeless. Mindful of what people have access to, the meatball and sauce recipes indicate options for fresh or dried herbs.

We always emphasize that recipes are starting points, guideposts: free to adapt as you choose. It’s all about creativity. Cooking is foremost an art. Happily, there are myriad variations of meatballs and sauce out in the world, and there’s always another tasty take on a known dish.

Our students work in teams. We strive to have a good balance of lecture and demonstration with mainly hands-on work. And, really, that’s why they are there. Everyone wants to get her hands in the action. Mixing and rolling meatballs is a perfect means…..

Plus, it is a WHOLE lot of fun. We strive to have joy in our kitchen.
But, truly, that’s something we don’t have to work hard to achieve!

The meatballs are oven roasted. It’s an easy way to cook them, and drain off any excess grease before they are plunged into the pot of red sauce to simmer. (Of course, big batches of meatballs can made, roasted, and frozen—ready to use at a later point in time.)

While the sauce simmers, the students clean, spin, and toss greens with a vinaigrette they whipped up themselves. We prepare the pasta (linguine in this case) and set up our buffet…dine on our reward, a delicious lunch. Good work!

Italian Meatballs
1 lb. Lean Ground Beef
¼ lb. Sweet Italian Sausage, casing removed
2 -3 slices of French or Italian bread, torn into small pieces
2 teaspoons minced Garlic
1 small Onion, chopped very finely
2 Tablespoons dried Italian herbs (or finely chopped 2 T. fresh basil, 1 T. fresh oregano, 2 t. fresh thyme, 1 t. flat leaf parsley)
1 Tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1 teaspoon Salt
½ teaspoon Black Pepper
6 Tablespoons grated Parmesan Cheese
1 egg, lightly beaten

Break up the ground beef and sausage into a large mixing bowl.
Add the bread pieces, garlic, onions, herbs, salt and pepper, Worcestershire sauce, parmesan cheese and the beaten egg.
Vigorously mix all the ingredients together by hand-almost like kneading bread dough-until all the herbs and bread pieces are well mixed throughout the meat.
The mixture will get a little fluffy and shiny when it is mixed well.
Shape into balls-about the size of a golf ball, (or smaller, if desired). Place the meatballs on a baking sheetpan.
Bake in a 350 degree oven for 25 minutes or until done.
Drain any excess grease and place the cooked meatballs into your thick Italian Tomato Sauce.

Hearty Italian Tomato Sauce
3 Tablespoons Olive oil
2 small Onions, finely chopped
3 cloves Garlic, minced
1 large (28 oz.)Can Tomatoes in juice-coarsely chopped, save the juice!
1 small can (6 oz) Tomato paste
1 Bay Leaf
1 Tablespoon Balsamic Vinegar
1 teaspoon Salt
½ teaspoon Black pepper
1 Tablespoon Basil
2 teaspoons Oregano

In a large saucepan (3-4 quart size) heat olive oil.
Add the chopped onions first and sauté until soft and translucent-about 7 minutes.
Then add the garlic and cook for another minute or so, stirring constantly.
Add the coarsely chopped tomatoes and their juice, the tomato paste, all the herbs and spices and stir well until it begins to boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for an hour, stirring occasionally.
Add cooked meatballs and continue simmering. Taste and adjust for seasoning.

If you’re like me, you are feeling this sense of RELIEF that a new year has begun. And, it’s not just for the usual psychological “new beginnings” or resolutions reason. It’s because of the lead up to this moment. The frenzy of food making and eating, from Thanksgiving through the entire month of December, IS, despite all its glut and glory, OVER.

Whew.

I’m ready for a little stark reality—but it doesn’t have to be bland, does it? Look at this beautiful container of Olive Oil, a gift from our friends in Italy. They befriended Elio, the Tuscan grower and maker of this Bio-Dynamic Organic Extra Virgin Olive Oil. It’s so fruity green and delicious. I love the label’s painting by one of his children, showing the olive harvest under the Shooting Star (Il Meteorite)

So, I’ve cooked up a quick pasta dish, with less pasta, more vegetables. It’s full of health and flavor: Whole Wheat Linguine from DeCecco. Leeks, garlic, a dice of sweet red bell. A few shreds of pecorino cheese.
And Broccolini.

I had originally been looking for Broccoli Rabe–broccoli’s wild cousin, but I ended up with the baby sister instead. It was a good choice.
The quest for bitter ended up sweet.

Whole Wheat Linguine with Broccolini, Pecorino, & Fruity Olive Oil

Your Favorite Fruity Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 bunch Broccolini–separate skinny flower ends from stems,
cut stems at an angle into bite sized pieces
1/2 cup chopped Leek
1/4 cup diced Red Bell Pepper
3 cloves Garlic, minced
Sea Salt
Red Pepper Flakes pinch or two
1/4 box Whole Wheat Linguine (4 oz)
Pecorino Romano Cheese–not much, just for shredding

In a deep skillet, warm 2 Tablespoons Olive Oil. Stir in leeks, garlic, and red peppers. Sprinkle with a little sea salt and red pepper flakes, and increase to medium heat. Saute for 5 minutes, then add the broccolini stems. Saute for another 5 minutes and add the broccolini flowers. Add a little more olive oil. Cook for 3 more minutes and remove from heat.

Bring a pot of lightly salted water to a boil and cook the whole wheat linguine according to package directions (about 10 minutes) Drain, reserving a little starchy pasta water.

Toss linguine with cooked vegetables, tossing well, until the veggies are distributed throughout. Taste for salt and heat. If it needs a little loosening, spoon in some of the reserved pasta water. Sprinkle with shredded pecorino and serve.

Serves 2 generously, or 4 sides

Happy Eating in 2010!

Butternut Everything!

Of all the winter squashes, butternut is my favorite. And not for its rich, creamy flavor alone—its pretty fall color, dense, smooth texture, and relative ease of preparation (not as hard an exterior as, say, acorn squash) make it outshine the others.

And, it’s so versatile. There are dozens of delicious ways to make it–in soups, risottos, stuffings, salads….

Gigi had grown quite a bit of butternut in her Wedgewood Urban Gardens, so we wanted to feature it in a special way at our community pot luck last week. She had bundles of leeks waiting to be pulled from the garden, too.

We LOVE leeks, and so I created this lasagna variation to include them. The leek and butternut union became the big hit at our dinner.

What made it unique was the layering of these three components:
roasted butternut squash puree
leek-ricotta bechamel
stewed or roasted yellow tomatoes

What made it simpler was the “no-bake” lasagna that I used. If you’ve never tried it, you’ll be surprised. It really works well, and is not as heavy as the typical thicker, ripple-edged pasta that we all have used many times.

One less pot to deal with, no big wads of broad noodles clumped together, a whole step eliminated!

Both the butternut puree and the bechamel have an earthy sweetness. The yellow tomatoes add a bright, citrusy-acid note in the middle. If you don’t have these, no worries. The dish is still very good without them.

I grated some sharp pecorino-romano over the several layers. If you like, you can garnish the top with some walnuts.

Like most lasagnas, it is not difficult to make–but there are two main steps involved before you can assemble the layers.

Roasted Butternut Squash
2 Butternut Squash–medium size
Olive oil
Salt and Black Pepper

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cut butternuts in half. Scoop out seeds. Brush both sides with olive oil, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Place skin side up onto a baking pan and roast uncovered for 30-40 minutes. The outside skin will brown and blister slightly, and the whole squash will soften and collapse. When this occurs, remove from the oven and allow to cool.

When cooled, the skin will peel away from the meat of the squash.
Where it doesn’t peel away, scoop out the meat with a spoon.
Place all roasted squash into a food processor fitted with the swivel blade and puree. Season to taste with salt and pepper. The mixture will be fairly thick and creamy. If it’s too thick (as in too difficult to spread with a spatula over lasagna) thin with a little half-and-half.

Leek-Ricotta Bechamel
4 Leeks, cleaned well and chopped–use white and green parts
3 Tablespoons Butter
3 Tablespoons Flour (all-purpose)
1 1/2 cups Half-and-Half
1 cup Ricotta
Salt and Black Pepper–to taste

In a 3 qt. saucepan, melt butter on medium heat and add leeks. Sauté for 5-7 minutes, stirring often, until leeks soften and separate.
Sprinkle in flour, and stir rapidly, so that the leeks are well coated. When the flour has absorbed all liquid/butter, and cooked onto the leeks, pour in the half-and-half. Keep stirring. Soon, the sauce will bubble and thicken. Add the ricotta and stir well. Season with salt and black pepper. The sauce will be rich tasting and somewhat sweet from the leeks.

The Assembly
1 box No Bake Lasagna
Leek-Ricotta Bechamel
Butternut Squash Puree
1 cup cooked Yellow Tomatoes
1 handful fresh Sage leaves, chopped
Pecorino-Romano cheese to grate

Lightly coat a 9×13 deep-dish style baking pan or casserole with olive oil. Then, cover the bottom of the casserole with a layer of leek bechamel. Place lasagna on top. Spread a layer of butternut over that. Sprinkle chopped sage over the butternut, and spoon over with bechamel. Add your 2nd lasagna layer, then the yellow tomatoes. Grate some pecorino-romano over the tomatoes, dot with bechamel and add 3rd lasagna layer. Spread butternut over the lasagna, sprinkle with chopped sage, and cover with 4th (and final) lasagna. Cover the top with remaining bechamel. Grate romano over the top.

At this point, you can refrigerate it and bake it the next day, if you like. Otherwise, seal with foil and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes. (This helps the casserole to steam up as it bakes, cooking the pasta.) Uncover and bake for another 10 minutes. Serves 8-10 generously.

Summer is fleeting. I awoke this morning to cool, crisp air moving through the house: 59 degrees! So rare on this last day of August in Nashville Tennessee, so telling of the season to come.

These are days to savor outdoors: Clear skies, warm, steady light. There’s still a bounty coming in the garden–corn, squashes, melons, beans, tomatoes. Basil plants the size of shrubs. Today, we’ll enjoy a lunch made with some of these summer garden elements, and relish them at our backyard table.

This tortellini salad is similar to one we always served at the café years ago–with some updates. For a pleasing variety in color, taste, and texture, I recommend using both green snap and yellow wax beans, if you have them at your disposal. And, this salad is the perfect place to toss in an assortment of grape and cherry tomatoes. I used my Cherub grapes, Husky cherries and the brilliant Sungolds. In café days, I had dressed this in balsamic vinaigrette–long on flavor, but less visually appealing , with its flat brown color. With all my basil begging to be picked, I’m going for a pesto vinaigrette. It delivers the flavor, while allowing the salad to shimmer.

Summer Tortellini Salad
1/2 lb. fresh green beans
1/2 lb. fresh yellow wax beans
1/2 lb. fresh (or frozen) cheese stuffed tortellinis
1 pint cherry (or grape) tomatoes–assorted reds and sungolds
1/4 cup toasted pinenuts
1/4 cup basil chiffonade

1 cup Pesto Vinaigrette

Fill a skillet with water and bring to a boil for blanching the beans. Set up a large bowl of ice water. If you are cooking two types of beans, cook them separately. Wash and snap beans–pinching off the stem and place into boiling water. Blanche for 4 minutes. Plunge into the icy water bath to shock them—stop the cooking process. Drain well and place into a salad bowl.

In the same pot of water, cook the cheese tortellinis, about nine minutes. Drain and add to the bowl with beans. Wash, dry and cut the cherry or grape tomatoes into halves or quarters—depending on size—and add to the salad, along with the toasted pine nuts. Pour vinaigrette over all and toss well.

Garnish with a chiffonade of fresh basil.

You might enjoy this served on a bed of fresh greens, or by itself, with a piece of crusty bread to sop up the dressing.

Serves 6 generously.

Pesto Vinaigrette

1 clove fresh Garlic
1 cup Basil leaves
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon Black Pepper
1/4 cup Red Wine Vinegar
3/4 cup Fruity Olive Oil

Place the first five ingredients into a food processor fitted with the swivel blade and pulse until basil and garlic are well chopped. Then, slowly drizzle in the olive oil while processing, until well-incorporated. Taste for seasoning and adjust if necessary.

Makes one cup.

It was the desire for more color that took an already delicious pasta dish to a higher level.

Unexpected!

I was to prepare a large batch of linguine tossed with sauteed Swiss chard, pine nuts, golden raisins, and red pepper flakes, always a favorite for its healthy dose of green things in pasta, with a little sweet-and-heat.
It was one of several dishes I cooked recently for a local dinner held at Kipp Crusa and Tallahassee May’s farm.

Tally either grew or gathered all the lush produce for the meal. When she delivered the locally grown goodies to my home, she brought in a sack bulging with chard: long white stems with large dark green leaves that resembled ceremonial fans for an Egyptian deity. Fabulous.

And yet, she lamented the lack of Rainbow Chard, a variety loved for its brilliant, almost iridescent yellow, pink, and purple stems. “I hope you don’t mind, but I brought you some beets.”

Mind? No, never would I mind such a thing.

The beet greens and chard cooked beautifully together, the beet’s magenta stem and veined leaves providing a lively color burst. And, a little more. In contrast to the supple chard, the beets added an assertive, earthy bite to this rustic dish.

Pasta-wise, I have typically made this with whole wheat linguine. For Tally’s dinner, I chose to continue the mix-up by using whole wheat, regular, and spinach linguine—a blend sometimes referred to as “Straw and Hay.”

This is a discovery worth repeating—-and sharing.

Today, I’ve got small quantities of Swiss chard and Red Russian Kale harvested from my urban farmette, plus a few spring onions grown tall and fat from all our rain. I’ll toss in the leaves from a beet bunch in my fridge–in short order, this festive straw and hay will be ready to enjoy for dinner! The remaining beets will turn up in the next day or two in a salad or side dish.

Color begins releasing when you saute the stems with spring onions.

The greens like to swim in the stock.

Greens, Straw and Hay
3-4 T. Olive Oil
3 Spring Onions, chopped-use both white and green parts
1 bunch Swiss Chard, Beet Greens, Red Russian Kale (any or all in combination)
cleaned, dried, destemmed:chop stems like celery and set aside; coarsely chop leaves
You’ll have 2 heaping cups of chopped leaves.
1 t. Sea Salt
1/4 t. Red Pepper Flakes
1 cup Vegetable Stock
1/4 cup Golden Raisins
1/4 cup Pine Nuts

Pasta Assortment: use about 2 oz. of each (6 oz. total)
Linguine, Spinach Fettuccine, Whole Wheat Capellini

Heat a large skillet, add olive oil. Sauté spring onions and the chopped stems from your selection of greens on medium heat for 5-7 minutes. Sprinkle with sea salt and red pepper flakes. Stir in coarsely chopped leaf greens and sauté for another 2 minutes. Pour in vegetable stock and stir well. Leaves will collapse. Add golden raisins and toasted pine nuts. Toss throughout the mixture. Set aside.

Bring a 4-5 qt. pot of lightly salted water to a boil. Cook your sturdier pasta first: follow package directions. Whole wheat linguine takes 10 minutes, regular takes 7-8. Do a little math, and figure the timing so that you can add the second pasta after 2 minutes so that all is done at the same time. Drain, and reserve 1 cup liquid.

Gently toss pastas with sauteed greens, insuring a good distribution of all the elements throughout. If the mixture doesn’t seem wet enough, add a little of the reserved pasta water.

You may want to grate a little parmegiano-regianno over the top, if you like. It is delicious, of course. But there’s enough good flavors–and textures—in this dish that you may not want to.

Serves 2 as main dishes or 4 as first course.

A tangle of flavor and color…

Even though I was delirious with overseas flight fatigue, my first meal at our friends’ home in Bologna, Italy remains vivid, one of those high points in epicurean experiences: Heather served up bowls of handrolled tortellini filled with ricotta, puddled in an herbed brown butter sauce. The pasta was paper-thin, tender; the ricotta creamy rich. And the butter sauce! Brown butter can elevate cardboard to a lofty state; in this case, it took an already sublime dish into the gastro-stratosphere.

Soon, my brain, beleaguered from a navigation of the hopeless maze of terminals in Charles DeGaulle airport followed by a frenzied search for a missing boarding pass, hit alpha-wave calm as I immersed myself in the comfort-coated bowl. I was in Bologna, home of Europe’s oldest university, stronghold of the Italian Communist Party and center of a culinary tradition that earned it the name La Citta Grassa .

Oh, Learned-Red-Fat City, I slumped into a chair, bowl in hand, I have arrived.

I felt certain that in the time she had lived here, Heather had immersed herself in Bolognese ways and had crafted these impressive stuffed pastas.

“Well, I had considered it, of course,” she said. “But then I realized, why bother? We have the ladies.”

“The ladies?” This sounded intriguing. “Who are these ladies?”

“The pasta ladies,” she said. “We’ll go visit them.”

A couple of days later, I accompanied Heather on a shopping trip. After perusing the open produce stands—where I learned that One Mustn’t Touch; the vendor selects the veggies for you—Heather introduced me to the ladies of Le Sfogline.

Run by Renata Venturi and her two daughters Daniela and Monica, Le Sfogline is regarded as the best pasta shop in Bologna, perhaps all of Emilia-Romagna province. It’s small. In the front room, you may find Signora Venturi presiding over the service counter: a glass display case filled with the creations of the day. Behind her, an open door reveals the pristine kitchen where the women, with long, tapered rolling pins, turn out pasta sheets that are both massive and impossibly thin.

We studied the case contents: tagliatelle, papparadelle, varieties of stuffed tortellini, lasagne. Everything beckoned; it was so hard to choose.
Tutto Bene, Si!
We decided on a pan of lasagna Bolognese:layered with meat in a milky brown sauce, and two dozen pieces of what fast became my favorite: plump ravioli di zucca—pumpkin.

Lately I’ve been thinking about the ladies and their fine work as I’ve noticed changes in my Volunteer pumpkin. The jarrahdale blue that so valiantly grew in my front yard has been occupying a place of prominence on my dining room sideboard since I harvested it last fall. Over the winter, its blueness has unexpectedly given way to light peach. I decided that meant it was time to cook it. It deserved to be prepared in a Bolognese manner.

Now, in no way do I have the deftness of hand-rolling that the ladies of Le Sfogline employ, but I do have a bonafide hand-cranked made-in-Italia pasta machine. I chose to make lunette–little moons–circles of pasta, filled with roasted pumpkin, folded over and gently crimped.

My little moons were not so perfectly plump and lovely as the handiwork of the ladies, but I believe they would have approved of my results.
Mine had a kind of haphazard look to their craft, but were nonetheless delicious. My Volunteer Pumpkin had roasted up sweetly, and required little more than salt, pepper,nutmeg, and parmesan to enhance. To the brown butter sauce, I added coarsely chopped toasted almonds: a crunchy counterpoint to the smooth dish. And, borrowing a Mario Batali trick, I grated an amaretti cookie over the top right before serving, for a pleasant little candied shock.

Lunette di Zucca (Little Pumpkin-filled Moons with sage brown butter)

Pasta:
3 cups Flour
4 Eggs
2 T. Olive Oil
2 t. Salt
Water—1-2 Tablespoons, if needed

In a food processor fitted with a pastry cutter, pulse the flour with the eggs, olive oil, and salt. Add water if it seems too dry. As you pulse, the texture will change from coarse cornmeal to a smooth, collected mass.

Remove,form into a ball,and cover tightly with plastic wrap. Place in the refrigerator for at least one hour. The pasta can be made in advance and allowed to rest overnight.

Filling:
4 c. Roasted Pumpkin
½ t Salt
¼ t. Black pepper
1/8 t. Nutmeg
½ cup grated Parmesan

Puree the pumpkin with the seasonings. Add the parmesan last. Note: Pumpkins vary in water content. Some “pie pumpkins” are dense; my heirloom pumpkin was a little watery. If the mixture seems a loose, place in a strainer lined with cheesecloth (same method used when making mascarpone) over a bowl. That extra liquid will separate quickly.

Assembly:
Slightly flatten the doughball and cut into 4 wedges. If you are using a pasta machine, start with setting 1 and roll the dough through. Repeat. Then move to setting 2 and roll. Repeat the process until you reach desired thinness—at least at setting 6.
Cut out round shapes–about 3″ diameter. (I used a drinking glass as my template.)
Place a small amount—about a teaspoon—in the center of each circle. Fold over, press ends together and slightly crimp. Makes 3 dozen.

Bring a pot of lightly salted water to a rolling boil. Drop in the stuffed lunette, a few at a time. Gently boil for about 5 minutes—the lunette will float to the surface when done. Remove, drain, and dress with butter sauce. Top with toasted almond pieces and grate a little amaretti cookie over the dish.

Sage Brown Butter Sauce:
1 ½ sticks Unsalted Butter
4 heaping Tablespoons chopped Fresh Sage leaves
Salt to taste–about ¼ teaspoon

On medium heat, melt the butter and add the sage leaves and salt. Increase the heat. The butter will begin to bubble; the milky solids will begin to brown; the sage leaves will crispen.
Stir well. Once the mixture has a toasty brown color, remove from heat—it will continue to cook from the residual heat and you don’t want this to burn!

After Saucing the Pasta:
Top with:
½ cup Toasted Almonds, coarsely chopped
Amaretti cookie, to grate over the little moons (optional)

The seeds from this Volunteer have been saved. We’ll plant these pumpkins purposely this year!

I don’t eat much meat anymore.

It didn’t come as a lightening bolt; there was no conscious decision. I consider myself an omnivore. I still relish the rare juicy-grilled ribeye. But, there has been a gradual shifting in my tastes, a falling away of carnivorous desires.

No doubt, I trace it back to an experience from a few summers ago, while Bill and I were on our first Out-West driving trip. Our serene cruise across these rolling Great Plains was sporadically jarred by scenes of agricultural squalor: CAFOs, “concentrated animal feeding operations.” Miserable, crowded feedlots…wrong for myriad reasons. These sorts of images settled in the psyche…and demanded resolution.

So, over time, I’ve moved away from a lot of meat in my diet. I haven’t missed it. When I do choose it, I do enjoy it. And, I try to buy that which is locally pasture-raised, pesticide-antibiotic-hormone free.
I’m happy to embrace the Michael Pollan Manifesto:
“Eat food. Not so much. Mostly plants.”

Following is a simple and beautiful “Mostly Plants” kind of recipe that I recently made for a small dinner gathering.
There’s much to love about it:
cheerful colors, contrasting textures, a balance of sweet-roasted buttery squash with savory-toasted pearly grains.
Its seasonings are minimal:
salt, pepper, and a hint of nutmeg are all that’s needed to enhance the butternut squash.
And, it’s versatile, pleasing just about anyone:
Vegetarians, vegans, heart-healthy dieters, weight-watching point-counters,
and evolving omnivores like me.

Sweet Peppers stuffed with Roasted Butternut Squash and Israeli Couscous

1 large Butternut Squash
4 large Sweet Red, Orange, Yellow Bell Peppers
1 large Onion
Olive Oil
Salt
Black Pepper
Nutmeg
1 ½ cups Israeli Couscous

Serves 6

Peel and cube squash; dice onion and one of the peppers. Toss together with 2 Tablespoons of olive oil. Sprinkle with sea salt, cracked black pepper, and just a few pinches of nutmeg. Spread out on a shallow baking pan and place in a hot (425 degree) oven. Roast for 20 minutes—until cubes are lightly browned. Remove and allow to cool on the pan.

Fill a deep skillet or pot with water and bring just to a boil. Cut remaining peppers in half, remove seeds, and plunge into water. Blanche for 5 minutes, then pull them out and let them drain and cool.

In a 2 quart saucepan with medium heat, coat the Israeli couscous with 1 Tablespoon of olive oil and sauté—about 5minutes– until the couscous gets a toasty look to it. Pour in 1 ½ cups of water and bring to a boil. Cover tightly and reduce heat to simmer. Cook for 12 minutes—until water is absorbed. Remove from heat and spoon in roasted vegetables, scraping in all the browned bits and oil. Fold the vegetables evenly throughout the couscous.

Coat a baking dish with oil. Place in pepper halves and stuff with couscous mixture.
Bake in a 350 degree oven for 20-25 minutes.

In the summer, basil tends to be my preferred herb pairing with tomatoes; there’s nothing like a quick, raw sauce of the two, coarsely chopped, drenched in olive oil and tossed over some capellini to make me happy. But, on this gray January day, the containers of once-lush basil abandoned on my backyard wall hold bare stalks: my stark zen reminder to practice patience. It will be a good six months before I can get my fresh basil-homegrown tomato fix.

Thank goodness that off-season, there are alternatives: thicker, winter red sauces, and the heartier fare they help create. For that reason, canned tomato products prove indispensable. And, they’re good; I try to keep a few cans handy in my pantry. Something about having a pot of this sauce on the stove to fiddle with helps to ease my wait, banish any winter blues.

There are countless variations of red sauce theme and everybody has her tried-and-true methods and ingredients: Whole or diced tomatoes; crushed, paste, or puree; red wine, white wine, dried herbs or fresh. My sister swears by a scoop of sugar in her sauce—which I resist. I like the sweetness that a little balsamic vinegar adds.

Recently I’ve taken to adding fresh rosemary; it’s got a rustic, woody element that melds well in the sauce and seems right for this time of year. I have a large bush that has long thrived through winters in its front porch spot, so I enjoy snipping a sprig to plunge into the sauce as it simmers. Once the rosemary has done its job, just pluck it out, like you would with bay leaf.

Winter Red Sauce
3 Tablespoons Olive Oil
1 medium onion, small diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 28 oz can whole plum tomatoes
1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes
½ cup red wine
a couple of glugs of balsamic vinegar
1 sprig fresh rosemary
salt and black pepper to taste

In a 3 qt. saucepan, heat olive oil. Add onion and sauté for 3-4 minutes, then add garlic. Stir and cook another minute.
Open can of whole tomatoes, pour off juice and reserve. Chop tomatoes and add to saucepan. Season with salt and pepper and cook for 10 minutes.
Add reserved tomato juice, crushed tomatoes, red wine, and balsamic. Stir well.
Add fresh rosemary sprig and simmer for an hour. Stir occasionally.
Taste and adjust seasonings. Remove rosemary and use.

Hearty, but not over-the-top heavy, these shells are stuffed with a blend of lowfat cheeses and fresh spinach and baked in a blanket of Winter Red.

Stuffed Shells Florentine
1 box Jumbo Shells (there are about 42 shells in a box)
8 oz. fresh young spinach (sometimes called “baby spoon”)
2 lb.tub part-skim ricotta
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon black pepper
½ teaspoon granulated garlic
2 eggs
1 ½ cups shredded mozzarella
1 ½ cups shredded parmesan
1 batch “Winter Red Sauce”

Cook shells according to box directions; drain and set aside to cool.
Coat 2 9×13 (or size thereabouts) casserole dishes with a little olive oil.
In a food processor outfitted with the swivel blade, pulse the spinach until it’s chopped. Scrape into a mixing bowl and return the work bowl to the processor. Refit with swivel blade.
Add ricotta, eggs, salt, black pepper, and garlic and processor until well blended.
Stir the ricotta mixture into the spinach. Fold in 1 ¼ cup each mozzarella and parmesan.
Cover the bottom of the casserole dishes with a few ladles of Winter Red Sauce.
Fill each shell with spinach-ricotta mixture and place in the pool of sauce
Spoon some more sauce over the shells and top with remaining shredded cheeses.
Bake uncovered for 35 minutes in a 325 degree preheated oven. Serves 8-10