A couple of quick and easy pasta dishes for fishy people

 

Several years ago a book titled Jam Today: Cooking with what you’ve got made a great impression on me. The idea was to cook out of your pantry. Of course, the author also had access to her husband’s huge vegetable garden, an advantage I was missing (both the husband and the garden). Still that book was where I learned about Pisces, the fishing board from which I order tuna, and the idea of cooking out of the pantry has always intrigued me.

During quarantine, Jordan and I stocked enough to cook out of the pantry for five years. But the cottage has limited pantry space. (One of my pie-in-the-sky dreams is to have a kitchen expert redesign my tiny kitchen.) My basic pantry is a deep drawer next to the sink, but stocking cans in a drawer means you must pull each out to read the label—a pain. The other day I did an inventory of canned beans: four pintos, two cannelloni, one each red, kidney, navy, and black. Not everything is in that drawer—there are cans in a cabinet above my cooking corner that I can’t reach, cans in another cabinet next to the sink that I also cannot reach, and, yes, cans in my bedroom closet. Want cream of celery soup to make Louella’s rice? You’ll have to go on a hunt.

But there are things I routinely keep on hand—tuna, prime among them (I buy it by the case). I also keep canned salmon, artichoke hearts, anchovies, pasta of course, green and white beans for three bean salad and because Sophie loves canned green beans. I could and probably should weed out my drawer and take the rarely used items to a food drive at church—that can of Spam that lurks in my closet, for instance. But a tiny part of me is somewhat of a hoarder.

All that is by way of leading up to today’s two recipes, both of which you can, if you’re like me, cook out of your pantry. Want a quick lunch or a light supper? Whip up one of these, toss a green salad and you have it. Or maybe you’re late getting home one night—a work reception or happy hour with friends—and you’re hungry but not very.  You’ll notice that they are almost identical and certainly start out the same way. The first you’ll also note is called Midnight Pasta—meant, perhaps, for sophisticates home late after an evening at the theater.

Midnight pasta (serves two)

½ lb. pasta, such as spaghetti or linguini

Salt

Olive oil – 3 Tbsp.

4 garlic cloves, sliced

4 oil-packed anchovy fillets

Pinch of red pepper flakes

1-1/2 Tbsp. tomato paste

Half of a small lemon, zested

For garnish: chopped basil or parsley

Grated Parmesan on Pecorino

Cook pasta, stopping it before it reaches al dente because it will cook more in the sauce; Reserve one cup of pasta water and drain off the rest.

Combine oil, garlic, anchovies, red pepper, and salt in skillet. Cook two or three minutes, making sure the garlic does not burn. Add tomato paste and cook another minute.

Stir in the drained pasta, lemon zest, and some of the pasta water. Stir so that sauce coats each strand of pasta, adding more water as needed. Test to be sure pasta is now cooked al dente.

Squeeze juice from half of the half of lemon over pasta, add parsley or basil, and toss. Taste for salt. Spoon into pasta plates and drizzle with a bit more olive oil. Top with grated cheese, and pass lemon quarters

Pasta with tuna, capers and scallions (serves three to four)

¾ lb. pasta, such as spaghetti or linguini

3 Tbsp. olive oi

3 garlic cloves, sliced

3 green onions, thinly sliced (separate white and green parts)

8 – 10 anchovy fillets

3 Tbsp. drained capers

1 cup herbs of your choice, roughly chopped—parsley, basil, celery leaves

1 5 oz. can tuna, drained

Optional: pinch of red pepper flakes

Lemon wedges for serving

Cook pasta and drain, reserving one cup of the water

Combine oil, garlic, white parts of the scallion in skillet. Cook at medium heat for a minute or two and then add the anchovies, pressing on them with a wooden spoon until they almost disintegrate into the sauce. Add some of the pasta water and reduce until it is almost gone. Add remaining water, herbs, and tuna. Stir to coat each pasta strand.

Serve in pasta bowls and pass lemon wedges. Offer optional red pepper flakes, chopped green onion tops, and grated Parmesan or Pecorino.

Buon appetite!

 

Another week of bare grocery shelves—and a pantry recipe

 

Cheesy chicken casserole--
Tastes even better than it looks.

This week has been like the beginning of the pandemic lockdown all over again—bare grocery shelves. Jordan reported several items she couldn’t get, over and above toilet paper—like all the bread shelves were empty, and of all things, she couldn’t find the frozen hash browns we wanted for a casserole.

I have to eat a little bit of crow here. When pandemic started, Jordan loaded us up with staples—the cabinets in my kitchen, which are limited in space anyway, are filled with cans of cream of mushroom soup, tomatoes, beans—one whole shelf of beans! We have enough rice for Coxie’s Army, and every time I use up the egg noodles and think I’ve freed up a little space, she buys more egg noodles. Crackers anyone? We have your pleasure—Wheat Thins, Ritz, saltines, rice crackers. And the good canned tuna and salmon from an Oregon cannery—we could eat fish daily for a month and not run out. I do admit the latter is my fault, and I’m mostly the one that eats it.

On Sundays, we try to do a special “Sunday dinner,” but last weekend, like most folks, we were about out of anything fresh, and Jordan was reluctant to go to the grocery. She announced we would have something out of the cupboard and the freezer. So I plowed through the appalling collection of recipes I intend to try some day and found a casserole of chicken, refried beans, and cheese. Here’s what we did:

Cheesy Chicken Casserole

1 32 oz. can refried beans (we used refried black, believing, rightly or wrongly, that they are a bit more healthy)

1 can Rotel, flavor of your choice – recipe called for original, but I like lime with cilantro (and to think all my years as a Midwesterner I never heard of Rotel!)

½ onion, diced

12 oz. Velveeta, cubed

4 c. shredded, cooked chicken

1 cup corn, cooked and drained

½ c. cilantro, chopped

½ c. cheddar cheese, grated

Optional garnishes: chopped green onion tops, pico de gallo, maybe even corn chips

Directions:

Use a 9x13 baking pan and grease lightly. Spread refried beans in the bottom.

In skillet, sauté onions in a tiny bit of olive oil; add Rotel and Velveeta, heat slowly, and stir to mix. When cheese is completely melted, add the chicken, corn, and cilantro. Stir well.

Pour the chicken mixture over the refried beans. Top with plenty of grated cheddar.

Bake at 350^o until cheese is melted and mixture is a bit bubbly—about 20-30 minutes. Let it sit for a couple of minutes to set up and then serve.

Our verdict? Absolutely delicious! One of the best Mexican-style casseroles ever—and also one of the easiest. I could eat this once a week. It definitely goes into the regular rotation of dishes in our household.

I bet there are hash browns on grocery shelves today, but Jordan’s wise planning paid off with this recipe, and, other than gentle teasing, I won’t mention overstocking again. If you stocked your cupboard, what things—besides toilet paper—did you think were essential?

Cook with what you have

 

My adaptation of Cobb sald

Here are my secrets for cooking without recipes:

Know what you want to eat; keep it simple; Enjoy yourself.

Come to think of it, these are my secrets for having a good life, too.

Today the kitchen, tomorrow the world!

              Tod Davies, Jam Today

Several years ago I came across a little book entitled, Jam Today: A Diary of Cooking with What You’ve Got. I was entranced by the prose, the ideas, the food suggestions. Of course the author, Tod Davies, happened to be married to a man who kept a bountiful vegetable garden right outside the kitchen door, so all she had to do to see what she had was stroll out the door. Still, I think the principle works for those of us who must store what we have in the cupboard, refrigerator, and freezer. And a PS to my recommendation for this book – it’s where I learned about the high-quality, water-packed albacore tuna I order from a small fishing vessel in Oregon. So much better than what you get from the grocery store.

After reading those suggestions, I put the idea to work in my kitchen. One evening I was preparing to leave town the next day and decided to see what I could use up from the refrigerator. Prowling around, I found some good, thinly sliced ham left from a sandwich project, a stub of zucchini, and some asparagus that wouldn’t last much longer. I had spinach fettucine in the cupboard—just the right amount.

I sliced the zucchini thin, julienned the ham, and cut the asparagus into bite-size pieces. I used salt and pepper generously on the vegetables. Then a dollop of butter went into the skillet, and I sautéed the vegetables a bit longer than the ham—they needed to cook, and the ham was precooked and very thin. When the vegetables were cooked, I added the ham and well-drained pasta to the skillet, stirred, and heated on low until thoroughly warm. Just before dishing, I gently blended in a good-sized dollop (heaping tablespoon) of sour cream and some Parmesan. Surprised myself both at how good it was and how much I ate.

Night before last, we had Cobb salad (sort of) for dinner, again using mostly what was on hand. I did buy a rotisseries chicken, but beyond that I arranged plates with hard-boiled eggs, green beans (canned, because I couldn’t get haricort vert and had the canned on hand—Jacob and Christian like them a lot), cherry tomatoes, sliced hearts of palm, avocado, lettuce, blue cheese, and bacon. We splashed Paul Newman’s Own Vinaigrette over it—it’s the only bottled salad dressing I put in my fridge, and it happens to be Jacob’s favorite. Made an eye-appealing plate—my mom always told me food is half-eaten with the eye. A bonus to this meal was that Jordan and I could arrange each plate to meet someone’s tastes (some among us are fussy—no hearts of palm, no hard-boiled eggs, etc.).

Today I told Jordan we had quite a bit of chicken left over. “Why don’t we have chicken tacos?” We still have avocado and cherry tomatoes; there’s a can of refried black beans in the cupboard. We have plenty of cheddar to grate, and her cupboard has tostada shells. Christian and Jacob will be happy, and so will we. An easy meal, and healthy.

What’s in your cupboard? Take stock, use your imagination. I bet you could find a week’s worth of meals.

And for fun, read Jam Today!