Naple's answer to Souvlaki: King Ferdinando's Tagliatelle

The Event - Monday 4 March 2013*

My Architect has to work on a PowerPoint and I find myself all alone in the kitchen tonight, with, as usual, precious little in the pantry.  

Somehow we have failed to establish a decent shopping list system since The Renovations.  If only stainless steel fridges were magnetic ...

*late posting in large part due to home internet access issues

The Foraging

So once again, I reach for Susan.  And Susan delivers royally on page 80:

King Ferdinando's Tagliatelle

Tagliatelle alla Ferdinando II

Ferdinando II's fav requires staples only

How appropriate on a night like tonight when weighing on my mind is the news that Queen Elizabeth II has been hospitalised with gastro.

King Ferdinando II will cheer her antipodean subjects!

As usual, Susan's recipe requires staples only: tinned tomatoes, a small onion, some Parma ham, basil from the garden (by the way, your summer plant has gone to seed, right? Now is time to plant your second crop for the season), butter, mozzarella, Parmesan.

And tagliatelle.  Not fettucini.  Not spaghetti.  Tagliatelle.  That's what Ferdinando II liked best.

Damn you Neapolitan blue blood!  Spaghetti will have to do.

The Cooking

For some reason The Cooking takes me forever.

Basil chopped, not torn

I guess I take my time fetching the staples from the pantry and fridge, and then I take my time weighing and chopping and dicing and grating.

And I spend a long time comprehending Susan's next instruction:  

'wash, dry and roughly chop the fresh basil'.  

Chop the fresh basil?  Doesn't this bruise it or something?  

Doesn't this break a culinary law?  

Really?

But I chop it.  I chop it with glee.  Tearing basil is tedious.

My quantum of Parma ham disappoints.  I'd bought an end chunk from King & Godfree's, half price.  I do this regularly.  Great for livening up bland things.  

The staples, prepped and ready to go

Sadly this time I lost on the deal.  My electronic scales tell me that two-thirds is skin and fat leaving me with one edible third - I would've broken even with a 66% discount.   

Consolation is that the whippets are happy with the two-thirds fat and pig skin, combined with some Parmesan cheese rind!

So now, I have only 50g of ham when Susan's recipe asks for 100g.  

Soldier on.

I melt the butter in a pan.  I fry the onion till transparent (more translucent actually).  Attentively so as not to burn the butter.  

In go the tomatoes.  We don't have 575g tins.  Does any jurisdiction?  I proudly use 1.5 regular sized tins of Australian produce.

And now the sauce simmers for 15 minutes and it's time to get the pasta on.

Only now I realise that I'm making sauce for 4, and there's only me and my Architect.  I'm cooking pasta for two and I have only half the Parma ham I need.

So with twice the sauce portion there's enough for our Friends in Need.  A casserole opportunity!

And with this realisation, I suddenly find myself cooking for love again.  I feel great.

Careful not to burn the butter

I sit down and compose instructions to our Friends in Need on how to assemble King Ferdinando's Tagliatelle from the Red Cross parcel I plan to give them.  

I select containers for the excess sauce and diced mozzarella and grated Parmesan.

I SMS them as to whether their herb garden grows basil (it doesn't).

I write my shopping list: 50g Parma ham.  Tagliatelle.  And remember to give them a small bunch of basil.

And I completely forget to put the pasta on.

And then the 15 minutes is up and the sauce is denser and I have to turn it off while I cook the pasta and it's getting later and later ...

But My Architect is still totally engrossed in his PowerPoint so I feed him a few more crackers and cheese just to make sure and go back to my culinary workspace.

Just have to remember to remove half the sauce and save the rest for our Friends in Need before I add the Parma ham and basil and pour the sauce over the pasta.

And soon, the pasta is cooked and drained and I transfer it to its serving dish.  And I add the Parma ham and basil to the sauce.

To ALL the sauce.

Noooo!

Oh well.  The Parma ham will be a little diluted.

There is My Architect is sitting at the table, which is all set, enthusiastic about King Ferdinando's favourite dish, albeit with spaghetti, not tagliatelle ...

Soldier on.

The Verdict

Without a doubt, this is the Neapolitans' answer to souvlaki

Pizza!  

Truly the most pizza like pasta you will ever have.   

With jube-like Parma ham highlights!  Cannot wait to make this again doubling the ratio of Parma ham.  Yum!

Whip this one up for your mates at 4AM after a heavy night when you all really should turn in.  They'll never forget it.  

King Ferdinando II ruled Naples from 1830 to 1859, and this was his favourite dish according to Susan.  The method has changed, but not the ingredients.  

Without a doubt, this is the Neapolitans' answer to souvlaki.  

I'd never heard of King Ferdinando until Susan told me about him and I'm yet to Google him.

So it is no small thing that I put my dignity on the line and promise to do 20 push-ups in my underwear in the middle of Flemington Road* if anyone can refute my theory that King Ferdinando had some massive nights that were topped off with his favourite pasta and a few more drinks to ensure he was a write-off the next day.

The basil still tastes like basil, even though it had been chopped.  Could that thing about tearing just be w*nk?  Research anyone?  

My spaghetti is great!  But sure, I look forward to trying this with Tagliatelle.  And I'm buying Tagliatelle to go into my Red Cross parcel.  Great quality Tagliatelle.

*I saw 2 handsome young blokes (clearly on the losing side of a wager) do this today watched and videoed by other blokes.   Are all you other ladies out there also becoming more pervy as the years swing by?

Want to try this at home?

Tagliatelle alla Ferdinando II

575g tinned tomatoes - crushed

1 small onion - finely chopped

100g Parma ham - thickly sliced & cut into matchstick-sized pieces

small bunch fresh basil - roughly CHOPPED (interesting ...)

200g mozzarella cheese - diced

50g butter

salt (optional - I didn't)

50g Parmesan cheese - grated

1. Melt butter in fry pan and fry the onion until transparent
2. Add tomatoes and salt to taste (none for me) and simmer for 15 to 20 minutes until the sauce becomes denser
3. Get the tagliatelle on the go so it will be cooked around about the time that the sauce is has 'become denser'
4. Once the sauce is denser, add the ham and chopped basil to it
5. When the tagliatelle is cooked, (i) transfer it to a serving dish and pour the sauce over the top (see!) (ii) adding the mozzarella and half the Parmesan
6. Serve the rest of the Parmesan with the individual serves

Safety Warning

If you're planning on a massive night first, I suggest you do the prep before you head out. Perhaps with an apertif ...

Apparently the New Zealanders have advertising campaigns warning of the dangers of drinking and cooking: presumably passing out after you've turned the oven on but before you've finished cooking meaning that you burn down your house with you unconscious in it.

So my safety instructions are, do steps 1 to 5(i) (above) before you head out.   

That way, eight hours later when you've dragged old and new friends home with the promise of a nightcap and the best pasta since the Greeks invented souvlaki and you're tempting them with the best your liquor cabinet has to offer, all you have to do is microwave the pasta and sauce and add the diced mozzarella.

Buon appetito, amici!

Bestest funnest night ever.

Postscript

I do subsequently buy great quality Tagliatelle for my Red Cross parcel.  But our Friends in Need never see it, nor my carefully crafted instructions on how to assemble the dish.  This is because somehow the week becomes busy and vanishes and I don't get to them and then it is suddenly Saturday and the dish is nearly a week old and will probably make them sick.

I will only risk it on myself and My Architect.  I will probably have to freeze it.

It's a long weekend in Victoria.  It's Moomba!  I will make them Donna Hay's vegetable pie ...

A Summer Sauce - Raw Tomato and Fresh Basil Sauce (Pomodoro e Basilico-crudo)

The Event - 12 February 2013

Another stunning summer evening.

The Research

I was perusing Susan over breakfast this morning and thinking to myself that I really must soon do the Raw Tomato and Fresh Basil Sauce on page 37.

Raw Tomato and Fresh Basil Sauce

Pomodoro e Basilico-crudo

As Susan herself notes, 'This is a summer sauce'.  And it's already mid-February.

Carpe diem!

Pomodoro e Basilico-crudo is not to be confused with the other recipe on page 37, in which the tomato is not raw.  The pomodoro not crudo.

The Foraging

This all happened at home.  

Over breakfast, not only was I perusing Susan, I was also eyeing off the big tomato that The Entrepreneur left behind when she headed back inland last week.  A big tomato grown with love by Our Dear Friend in Ballarat.  I understand that she couldn't carry it back through South Australia.  But I cannot believe she didn't find a use for it before she left!

It's so ripe!  I cannot let it go bad.  Does it weigh enough become the Raw Tomato component of Susan's Pomodoro e Basilico-crudo?  

Peeling tomatoes the Susan Conte way

With its little friend, the baby Roma (who knows where that came from), my tomatoes weighed in at just over 300 gram.  Two-thirds of Susan's specifications, which serve four. It's just me and My Architect, so two-thirds the quantity will do nicely.

As for the other ingredients?  Olive oil, garlic and salt are always in stock and fresh basil grows on my terrace.

Susan suggests tubetti, penne, conchiglie or farfalle.

After pledging that I would always use one of Susan's pasta choices,  I didn't have any of those. So tonight I used rigatoni.  Small rigatonis though.  Very like penne.  

Tell me.  Is 'conchiglione' the same as 'conchiglie'?  Because I did have 'conchiglione' in the pantry in anticipation of making the walnut sauce (which I now notice asks for 'conchiglie' after all, not 'conchiglione' ...)

So I rephrase:  all my pasta choices will be as suggested by Susan, or substantively similar.

The Cooking

This time, in deference to My Architect, I am using Susan's Cook's Tip method to peel the tomatoes. Our Dear Friend from Ballarat's tomato is satisfyingly huge.

Peeling tomatoes
the Susan Conte way (cont)

Tomatoes peeled
the Susan Conte way

Bloody hell this is easy.

Blend the tomatoes.  Briefly.  I did this for about 20 seconds on 'pulse', which may have been overdoing it.

Add some olive oil, a crushed clove of garlic and the fresh basil.  This time I sit down at the table with a beer (I am now officially a FebFast DNF) and take my time tearing the basil and tossing the torn fragments into the sauce.

The Sauce, standing
(with FebFast becoming FebFarce in the background)

The sauce has to stand for half an hour - just the right amount of time to grate some Parmesan (it goes without saying you'd top it with Parmesan, right) and cook the pasta.

Once cooked, I drain the pasta and put it in a nice bowl.  I add some salt to the sauce, stir it well and pour the sauce it over the pasta.  That's it.  Done.

Susan gives a word of warning on adding the salt.  She says that the salt must be added at the last minute or else the tomatoes will become soft and watery.

Soft? Maybe I did blend the tomatoes for too long...

The Verdict

Tomatoes over-blended or not, the verdict was 'Pomegranates'.   Amazing how much tomato and basil can taste like pomegranates.

This would be delicious to serve as a lunch dish.  So simple but so good.  Just as Susan says: 'the raw tomatoes served with hot pasta make a pleasant combination'.

And My Architect didn't even notice that he was eating a vegetarian dish.  Now that's a first.

Completed dish (minus our first helpings)

Want to try this at home?

Pomodoro e Basilico-crudo

450g ripe tomatoes

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 clove garlic, crushed

bunch of fresh basil

salt

1. Peel the tomatoes and blend them briefly
2. Add the oil and crushed garlic
3. Discard the basil stalks
4. Tear the basil leaves and add them to the sauce
5. leave the sauce to stand for about half an hour
6. At the very last minute, add salt to taste (too early and the sauce will go watery!)
7. Pour the sauce over cooked pasta (tubetti, penne, conchiglie, farfalle) and serve