Noodle Night: Penne with Italian Sausage and Broccoli di Rapa
If ever there was a food that
encompasses every mealtime from a fancy night on the town to the humblest
kitchen table, that is pasta. Pasta
tickled us as kids from a macaroni box, the miasma of orange powder and milk
our earliest collective lesson in kitchen chemistry. Pasta fills our chicken
soup bowl to nourish body and spirit when we are sick. Pasta lurks in oil
at the salad bar, in mayo
at the deli, in the steam table of a street cart. Pasta fills our autumn
dish with seasonal
pumpkin or repurposed
turkey, awakens our springtime palate with primavera, helps us trudge
through winter with the supreme comfort of meatballs and red sauce. Pasta is
weeknight dinner, Sunday Supper, leftovers lunch, and midnight snack, and
multitasking pasta often fulfills these offices from a single afternoon of
cooking.
One click on the pasta
tag, and one can see how much we love pasta in our urban home. I always
spend a cozy September Saturday making meatballs to freeze for Saturday night
dinners through the upcoming dark months. Of course that means spaghetti and
meatballs for dinner that night, accompanied by Insalata
Mista and a favorite red
wine such as Loring. There will be a casserole of baked
rigaboni during Halloween,
a bowl of linguini
after Thanksgiving,
red
peppers and orecchiette in December before the carbohydrate
bigotry of January dieting.
Those
carbs can be a conveyance for family
history just as surely as genetics. Heirloom recipes for gravy or sauce are
as sacred as the family Bible where they are enshrined as a folded receipt,
barely legible in Nonna’s faded script. But one doesn’t have to be Italian to
like pasta or have it coded into genetics: lo mein, spaetzle, udon,
couscous, Pad Thai, pastitsio,
kugel, satay, ramen, and tuna
noodle casserole are just some of the ways that pasta arrives at the world
table.
However
your pasta arrives at table, it journeyed through kitchen
private or public. Learning to make fresh pasta is worth any cook’s time who
wants to do it. The process of bringing together this humble mixture of wheat, water
or oil, eggs, and effort has a meditative, even healing
effect. Because it is simple, it is profound. Gently kneading the pasta,
rolling it thin, cutting it into shapes or pulling it into strings, connects us
with the countless loving hands that have prepared pasta on floury boards and
conveyed it into salted water.
From
there, pasta remains the humblest of foods when tossed with simple ingredients
from oil and garlic to stock
and broth. One of John’s favorite dishes, which I make for him when he is
sick or just in need of some love, is penne tossed with butter. But then who
doesn’t love buttered egg noodles, swimming
in soup or slithering under goulash? Another favorite, equally comforting,
is spongy udon, dunked in dashi mixed, some would say heretically, with soy
sauce.
We all
learned, or didn’t need to learn if we had been listening
to our grandmothers, the importance of a well
stocked pantry during the pandemic. Along with flour, sugar, and coffee, dried
pasta is a pillar of the pantry’s obligations to preparation and readiness.
After long waits to get into a grocery, supermarket, or box store, we all
encountered shelves labeled with purchase limits on pasta boxes – or shelves
empty of them altogether. During those times, I made countless dinners of such
simple but good pasta as puttanesca
and carbonara,
with leftovers, if there were any, for lunch the next day.
That
is the power of Noodle Night: it comes from simplicity to sustain through times
of want and worry and to celebrate
during times of kinship and festivity.
Noodle Night is not de facto modest. Lasagne anchors family gatherings from
Christmas to weddings, as does pastitsio for Sunday
Supper or Easter dinner, or kugel during Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, or
Shabbat. If your idea of celebration is unfolding a menu at a favorite
restaurant, in many of them, pasta has its own page. I will always remember the
chicken
piccata, served over spaghetti with oil, at a favorite local restaurant
that I am sorry to report did not survive lockdown. During a trip to New
York this summer, one of the best meals of my life – with some of the best
friends in my life – was anchored by award-winning game for the rest of the
table, and pasta for me. And when we return to our beloved Santa
Ynez Wine Valley, I so look forward to the California
Casual elegance of pasta dishes matched to local wines.
In
celebration of Noodle Night, and in recognition of the traditional pasta
recipes available at Urban Home, here is the second of three pasta dishes
inspired by California
cooking: the classic pairing of Italian sausage and broccoli di rapa,
served in a broth of sage, stock, and wine. In our urban home, this dish is a
weekend supper favorite. The two-pan preparation is grounding, even
contemplative, after busy Saturday afternoons or on lazy Sundays. This dish
pairs well with icy
martinis, and a rewarding dessert of panna
cotta with chocolate and strawberries.
Penne with Italian Sausage and Broccoli Rabe
Broccoli
Rabe is usually available spring, summer, and early fall at the farmer’s
market, or larger supermarkets. If unavailable, substitute thin baby broccoli
usually available during the same seasons. Rubbed sage is available in the
spice aisle of the supermarket; it will be distinguished on the packaging from ground
sage.
For
the sauce
1
pound Italian sausages
1
large head broccoli rabe
1
white onion
4
cloves garlic
¼ cup
pine nuts
2 cups
chicken stock
Extra-virgin
olive oil
½
tablespoon rubbed sage
Hot
pepper flakes
Salt
Freshly
ground black pepper
For
the pasta
1 box
penne
Prep
the ingredients
- Place the broccoli rabe upside down into an in-sink colander. Run cool water over the broccoli rabe. Leave to drain while you prepare the onion and garlic.
- Peel the onion and discard the root and stem ends. Cut the onion in half lengthwise. Place each half cut side down on a clean cutting board. Cut each onion half lengthwise to form thin crescents.
- Peel each garlic clove. Cut away the root end. Cut each clove in half; remove the bitter green inner pith if present. Cut each half into rough dice.
- Once the onion and garlic are prepared, give the colander containing the broccoli rabe a good shake to express as much water as you can. Return the colander to the sink.
- Transfer the broccoli rabe to a clean cutting board. Inspect the broccoli rabe and remove any yellow or discolored parts.
- Cut away the root end of the broccoli rabe. Remove each stalk and cut crosswise into a bottom piece containing most of the stalk, a leafy middle piece, and the florets. Place into the colander as you go.
- While the cut and prepped broccoli rabe rests, remove the casings from the sausages. Rough-cut each sausage into bite-sized pieces. It is okay that they will not be perfect; they will crumble as they cook, which is what we want.
Prepare
the broccoli rabe
- Place a saute pan on the stovetop. Drizzle with a ten count of extra virgin olive oil.
- Scatter the garlic and half of the onion into one pan. Add several shakes of dried hot pepper.
- Place a handful of broccoli rabe into the pan and sprinkle with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Repeat until all of the broccoli rabe is in the pan.
- Cover the pan and turn the burner to low.
- Cook on low, stirring occasionally to mix all of the ingredients, until the broccoli rabe is nicely wilted and the stalks are cooked through.
- Once cooked, keep covered until time to serve.
Cook
the sausage
- Place a saute pan on the stovetop. Turn the heat to medium.
- Sprinkle the pine nuts onto the dry, warm cooking surface of the pan. Gently shake the pan over the heat to toast the pine nuts until they give off a warm, nutty aroma, about one minute. Transfer to toasted pine nuts to a bowl.
- Return the pan to the heat Drizzle with a five count of extra virgin olive oil. Scatter the remaining half of the onion across the oil.
- Add the sausage to the pan and cook, stirring occasionally, until cooked through and crumbly.
- Once the sausage is cooked through, measure the chicken stock into the pan. Add the sage.
- Cover the pan and cook the mixture on low until nicely blended, about five minutes.
- Once cooked, turn off the heat and keep covered until time to serve.
Assemble
the dish
- Measure four scoops of cooked pasta into the pan containing the sausage mixture. Stir gently to mix them together. Toss the remaining pasta with olive oil or butter.
- Transfer the sausage and pasta to a large serving bowl. Use tongs to add the cooked broccoli rabe to the bowl, stirring into the pasta after each addition. Sprinkle the dish with toasted pine nuts.
- Serve the pasta dish with Parmesan. Place the buttered pasta on the table for those who want it.
How to cook dried pasta
- Pasta likes as much room as it can get while it cooks, so use the largest pot you have but be sure someone can lift it when it’s full. Many pasta recipes are timed to the steps in making the pasta – usually sauce and pasta are cooking at the same time.
- Fill a large pot with water. Place a generous measure of salt into the water.
- Carefully transfer the pot to the stovetop. Turn the burner to medium high.
- Once the water achieves a full boil, gently pour the dried pasta into the water. Be careful of splashing! The water may cloud, and the boil will go down.
- Use a slotted spoon to stir the pasta – this separates each shape / strand.
- Let the water return to full boil. Stir the pasta occasionally, being careful of splashing.
- Cook the pasta until al dente – slightly firm to the bite. This usually corresponds to the cooking time given in the instructions on the box, less one minute.
- Once the pasta is cooked, turn off the heat. Carefully carry the pot to the sink, and being very careful of splashing, pour the water and pasta into the colander.
- Allow the pasta to drain for about a minute. Return the pasta into the pot. Place the pot back on the burner (no heat), and cover until ready to serve.
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