Capellini with Lemon and Capers
Many of us who grew up in mid-century America remember a succession of plates embodying the directive of "meat/starch/vegetable," a rule so golden to the Home Ec classes of the time that it was the first thing those future homemakers learned, even before dousing minute steaks with canned mushroom soup or how to make frilly curtains. And a curious effect it had, too: as a lifestyle writer I have encountered, in every circumstance from casual talk among friends to professional conversations with my colleagues, an endless supply of anecdotes about horrific dishes from childhood.
Invariably the worst, or at any rate most vehemently recounted, memories are reserved for side dishes. One dear friend and valued colleague of mine cannot abide cooked carrots to this day; another won't get within a country mile of cauliflower no matter how skillfully it has been disguised. Beets are immensely unpopular, as are creamed onions. Since you asked, my own bugaboo is brussels sprouts. And that's before we even get to more exotic fare like tomato aspic, which I'm convinced is the devil's own food and about which I still can't figure out what my mother, God love her, could possibly have been thinking.
But then we forgive whoever was preparing those childhood plates, for when we started having to fend for ourselves in the kitchen, we learned that side dishes are a unique challenge. And homekeeping wisdom of the time did indeed dictate that a correct dinner plate contained a source of protein (typically meat, poultry or seafood), a source of starch (typically potatoes, rice or noodles) and a vegetable (usually hot). The challenge -- one which the homekeeper of the time was exhorted to view as an outlet for her (invariably "her") creativity -- was to make the side dishes complimentary to the main course, while stimulating to the palates of the family being fed.
Cultural precedents helped with this. Most cuisines have a protocol of foods to serve with other foods, which is a reflection of that cuisine's culture both aesthetically and practically. For example, Asian main dishes are often served with rice both because rice compliments the textures and tastes of those dishes, and because rice was a fundamental food crop as those cuisines were evolving. American cuisine, also evolving, cleaved to the same pattern. And, brussels sprouts aside (far aside, please), some quite good things have grown from that: everyone knows you serve meatloaf with mashed potatoes, pork chops with applesauce, and fried chicken with cole slaw.
I believe that a good side dish is simple to prepare and good to eat -- and, yes, that it should compliment the main course. I maintain a collection of side dishes in a recipe binder, and there are several good cookbooks on this subject. One of my favorites is THE SUPPER BOOK, by Marion Cunningham, whose chapter on "fringe dishes" contains such wonderful sides as chow chow, fried apple rings, tiny herb salads, jasmine rice, and orzo with dill. Below is a side dish from my own kitchen; a simple pasta dish infused with bright lemon, tart capers and a hint of garlic, all suspended in good olive oil. I serve this dish with chicken sautes; it would also make a lovely bed for steamed or sauteed seafood.
CAPELLINI WITH LEMON AND CAPERS
A lemon zester is an essential tool for any kitchen. My favorite is Microplane; here's the review I wrote of it for Slashfood. If you don't have a zester, use the small holes on a box grater. Jarred capers, once somewhat exotic, are now widely available. At the grocer's, look for them in the vicinity of either the Italian or Spanish groceries or among the pickles. Buy large capers packed in brine; the smaller ones packed in salt will upset the balance of the dish.
1 16-ounce package capellini
1 lemon, preferably organic
2 tablespoons jarred capers
1 clove garlic
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1. Clean the lemon under cool water (if the lemon is not organic, use a commercial produce cleaner, following the label directions). Once the lemon is clean, set on a paper towel to dry.
2. Measure out half the capellini; save the other half for another use. Fill a large saute pan with water; add a generous amount of salt. Heat on high.
3. While the water is coming to a boil, zest the lemon using a handheld zester or the small holes of a box grater. Work over a sheet of wax paper or a dinner plate to catch the zest. While zesting, do your best just to remove the yellow part of the lemon's skin: just two or three scrapes of the peel against the grater's surface should be sufficient. Once you get a rhythm going, this moves very quickly. Cut the zested lemon in half and set aside.
4. Measure two tablespoons of capers into a mesh strainer and rinse quickly under cool water. Set the strainer over a small bowl to catch any drips.
5. Peel the garlic and remove the root end. Halve the garlic; remove and discard any sprouting from the center. Slice each half longways into slivers and then slice each sliver longways into matchsticks. Cut across the matchsticks to mince.
6. Once the water is boiling hard, add the capellini and stir with a wooden spoon to ensure that the strands separate. Cook until al dente, checking at four minutes and cooking no longer than six minutes. Set a large colander in the sink.
7. Once the pasta is cooked to al dente, pour pasta into the colander to drain.
8. Place hot pan back on burner and adjust heat to medium. Add a four count of olive oil to the pan; swirl to coat the bottom of the pan.
9. Scrape the garlic into the pan and cook, stirring frequently, until garlic has blonded, approximately one minute.
10. Scrape lemon zest into pan and swirl with garlic until lemon gives off its fragrance, approximately thirty seconds. Add capers to pan.
11. Add pasta back into pan and, working quickly, stir to combine with the oil, garlic, lemon and capers. Hold one of the lemon halves over the mesh strainer you used for the capers and squeeze the lemon half over the pasta, using the strainer to catch any seeds or pith. Add several grindings of fresh black pepper.
12. Stir to combine, and serve.
Invariably the worst, or at any rate most vehemently recounted, memories are reserved for side dishes. One dear friend and valued colleague of mine cannot abide cooked carrots to this day; another won't get within a country mile of cauliflower no matter how skillfully it has been disguised. Beets are immensely unpopular, as are creamed onions. Since you asked, my own bugaboo is brussels sprouts. And that's before we even get to more exotic fare like tomato aspic, which I'm convinced is the devil's own food and about which I still can't figure out what my mother, God love her, could possibly have been thinking.
But then we forgive whoever was preparing those childhood plates, for when we started having to fend for ourselves in the kitchen, we learned that side dishes are a unique challenge. And homekeeping wisdom of the time did indeed dictate that a correct dinner plate contained a source of protein (typically meat, poultry or seafood), a source of starch (typically potatoes, rice or noodles) and a vegetable (usually hot). The challenge -- one which the homekeeper of the time was exhorted to view as an outlet for her (invariably "her") creativity -- was to make the side dishes complimentary to the main course, while stimulating to the palates of the family being fed.
Cultural precedents helped with this. Most cuisines have a protocol of foods to serve with other foods, which is a reflection of that cuisine's culture both aesthetically and practically. For example, Asian main dishes are often served with rice both because rice compliments the textures and tastes of those dishes, and because rice was a fundamental food crop as those cuisines were evolving. American cuisine, also evolving, cleaved to the same pattern. And, brussels sprouts aside (far aside, please), some quite good things have grown from that: everyone knows you serve meatloaf with mashed potatoes, pork chops with applesauce, and fried chicken with cole slaw.
I believe that a good side dish is simple to prepare and good to eat -- and, yes, that it should compliment the main course. I maintain a collection of side dishes in a recipe binder, and there are several good cookbooks on this subject. One of my favorites is THE SUPPER BOOK, by Marion Cunningham, whose chapter on "fringe dishes" contains such wonderful sides as chow chow, fried apple rings, tiny herb salads, jasmine rice, and orzo with dill. Below is a side dish from my own kitchen; a simple pasta dish infused with bright lemon, tart capers and a hint of garlic, all suspended in good olive oil. I serve this dish with chicken sautes; it would also make a lovely bed for steamed or sauteed seafood.
CAPELLINI WITH LEMON AND CAPERS
A lemon zester is an essential tool for any kitchen. My favorite is Microplane; here's the review I wrote of it for Slashfood. If you don't have a zester, use the small holes on a box grater. Jarred capers, once somewhat exotic, are now widely available. At the grocer's, look for them in the vicinity of either the Italian or Spanish groceries or among the pickles. Buy large capers packed in brine; the smaller ones packed in salt will upset the balance of the dish.
1 16-ounce package capellini
1 lemon, preferably organic
2 tablespoons jarred capers
1 clove garlic
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1. Clean the lemon under cool water (if the lemon is not organic, use a commercial produce cleaner, following the label directions). Once the lemon is clean, set on a paper towel to dry.
2. Measure out half the capellini; save the other half for another use. Fill a large saute pan with water; add a generous amount of salt. Heat on high.
3. While the water is coming to a boil, zest the lemon using a handheld zester or the small holes of a box grater. Work over a sheet of wax paper or a dinner plate to catch the zest. While zesting, do your best just to remove the yellow part of the lemon's skin: just two or three scrapes of the peel against the grater's surface should be sufficient. Once you get a rhythm going, this moves very quickly. Cut the zested lemon in half and set aside.
4. Measure two tablespoons of capers into a mesh strainer and rinse quickly under cool water. Set the strainer over a small bowl to catch any drips.
5. Peel the garlic and remove the root end. Halve the garlic; remove and discard any sprouting from the center. Slice each half longways into slivers and then slice each sliver longways into matchsticks. Cut across the matchsticks to mince.
6. Once the water is boiling hard, add the capellini and stir with a wooden spoon to ensure that the strands separate. Cook until al dente, checking at four minutes and cooking no longer than six minutes. Set a large colander in the sink.
7. Once the pasta is cooked to al dente, pour pasta into the colander to drain.
8. Place hot pan back on burner and adjust heat to medium. Add a four count of olive oil to the pan; swirl to coat the bottom of the pan.
9. Scrape the garlic into the pan and cook, stirring frequently, until garlic has blonded, approximately one minute.
10. Scrape lemon zest into pan and swirl with garlic until lemon gives off its fragrance, approximately thirty seconds. Add capers to pan.
11. Add pasta back into pan and, working quickly, stir to combine with the oil, garlic, lemon and capers. Hold one of the lemon halves over the mesh strainer you used for the capers and squeeze the lemon half over the pasta, using the strainer to catch any seeds or pith. Add several grindings of fresh black pepper.
12. Stir to combine, and serve.
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