Let me start by talking a bit about
Modernist Cuisine. A couple years ago, I grabbed a copy of the New York Times, and, since it was a Wednesday, flipped right to the dining section, where my breath was taken away. That particular day,
the NYTimes was reviewing the swankiest of swanky cookbooks, a multi-volume set covering everything from the history of cooking to the science of bacterial growth in food, complete with fantastic recipes (fantastic as in possessing an element of fantasy), and mind-bogglingly amazing photographs, such as the one dominating the front page of the section: a cross-sectioned wok with veggies and noodles being tossed, all captured in the utmost clarity. I cannot imagine how they took all these photos. It must have been quite the labor of love. This was my first encounter with
Modernist Cuisine, and it was love at first sight. Alas, I cannot afford $600 (yes, you read that right) cookbooks, no matter how much I pine for them. Lucky for me, last year the wonderful people who came up with it published
Modernist Cuisine at Home. According to the introduction, they were blown away by the success of their encyclopedia of cooking (more or less), and decided to make another version for those of us who 1) don't have gigantic warehouse kitchens loaded with more gadgetry than the average research lab, and 2) really can't shell out $600. Still REALLY espensive for a cookbook, but when I ran up against it at 50% off, I decided it was a sign and ponied up the cash. But then I had to use it. Otherwise, I'm just a sucker. (I may be that yet.) So, flipping through, what wonderful joys does this book hold? How about a guide to kitchen appliances? More pretty pictures (including some glossy beauties to decorate with)! A "kitchen manual" with nothing but the recipes on stain- and water-resistant synthetic paper! A recipe for Strawberry Marinara! Yeah, that caught my attention, too. But they described it in a way that made me think it wouldn't be crazy to try. So when we had guests over for dinner, I was ready!
Strawberry Marinara (from Modernist Cuisine at Home)
500g hulled strawberries
220g thinly sliced strawberries
175g peeled, seeded, and diced tomatoes
100g minced sweet onion
100g dry white wine
3g thinly sliced garlic
2g Basil leaves, torn
2g tarragon leaves, bruised
Salt
Lime Juice
(At this point, I should say that the book also gives volume measurements, but I have a scale, so this is what I worked with)
1) Juice the hulled strawberries. You should get about 3/4C of juice.
2) Combine strawberry juice, sliced berries, tomatoes, onion, wine, garlic, and herbs in a saucepan. Simmer, stirring, until you have marinara consitancy.
3) Season with salt and lime juice.
Not too hard, right? Well... I don't have a juicer. I improvised and used a garlic press. (The book recommends a potato ricer as a decent juicer, and strawberries are small, so a garlic press seemed like a good substitute.) Honestly, I would just skip the juicing and puree the strawberries next time. I don't think it'd make that much of a difference. I also would have liked to let my marinara cook longer. I planned on it taking more than the 35 minutes it took the writers to simmer, but I didn't plan quite long enough. I should probably have also chopped my tomatoes smaller (it does say "diced", and mine were more like "chopped"), and I would have liked more of them. I also think next time I might add some red coloring, because the sauce was a bit pale, which was slightly odd. Still, the sauce was pretty danged delicious. And the synthetic paper? AWESOME. I got strawberry juice all over, but it wiped right off, even after sitting for an hour. I am a fan!
Ricotta Ravioli
Pasta:
3 C Flour (all-purpose)
4 Eggs
1) Heap the flour on a clean countertop, and make an indentation in the top (kinda like a mashed potato volcano-- most people have done that, right?).
2) Crack the eggs into the indentation, knead it all together into a dry, stiff dough.
3) Roll out the dough. My family makes pasta often enough that we've invested in a pasta-rolling attachment for our Kitchenaid mixer (see photo, right). You don't need one. You can use a rolling pin. Or a bottle of wine. Roll it to the thickness you would expect from pasta.
4) Since we're making ravioli, cut the dough into strips about as wide as you want yours to be. You'll place the filling (see below) in clumps along a strip, and moisten the dough around the clumps. Cover with a second strip. Cut between the clumps and seal the edges. Again, my family does this often enough that we a have a sweet little tool that does this all in one step, but that's notabsolutely necessary-- press the flat part of fork tines along the edges to seal the ravioli.
5) Throw the ravioli into rapidly boiling salted water and cook about three minutes. Fresh pasta cooks fast.
Filling:
Ricotta
Egg
Herbs
Parmesan
Salt
Pepper
Ok, so that's a horribly vague ingredient list. But the issue here is that it's really a matter of taste preferences and amounts. We use a
15oz container of ricotta, 1 egg, and probably
4 Tbsps of parmesan. I like to add the egg last, so I can taste the filling as I add things (depending on how you feel about food safety and salmonella risks, you could taste with the egg in). For this particular night, we looked at what herbs we were using in the marinara-- garlic, basil, and tarragon-- and added those. (About
1 tsp of garlic powder, 1/2 Tbsp of dried basil, 1 tsp dried tarragon.) On any other night, I'd probably just throw in 2 Tbsps of Italian seasoning, because you seldom go wrong with that. Add salt and pepper to taste. Mix this whole mass together, and you have ravioli filling.
 |
| Finished Ravioli topped with Strawberry Marinara |
To sort of maintain the strawberry theme and add some veggies, I served a salad of spinach with strawberries, honey-roasted almonds, tomatoes, and a bit of cheese (doesn't it look yummy?) To top dress it, I made a quick
sweet vinaigrette. To make a vinaigrette, one usually starts with 3 parts oil to 1 part vinegar. I do this in a clear container, and pour in an amount that I think looks good, and estimate either 1/3 of that (if I started with oil) or 3 times as much (if I started with vinegar) by looking at the level of the liquid. If you want to, you can measure. For this version, I used about
1/3 cup of olive oil, and estimated about 1/3 of that with
Raspberry Balsamic Vinegar. I added about 1 1/2 Tbsp of
orange juice (a splash),
1 tsp of mustard, 2 finely chopped basil leaves, and and
salt and
pepper. Mix it together (if you have a container with a lid, it's as easy as cap and shake), give it a taste, and adjust accordingly-- not tangy enough? vinegar or mustard. Not sweet enough? Orange juice (or even a pinch of sugar)... you get it.
...you need:
Start by pouring the sugar in a wide pan. You want a wide pan, even for a small amount, because you want as much sugar as possible in contact with the heat. For a 7-inch pan, use 1/2 cup or so of sugar. Add about 1/2 Tbsp butter, (just a little bit) to keep things from sticking, and about 1 Tbsp brown sugar (a caramel shortcut). Heat the pan over medium-high heat until the sugar starts to melt. 
