Fancy spaghetti and meatballs

As you may know, I have a love-hate relationship with Giada de Laurentiis. I use and like many of her recipes, as evidenced by this blog (I'm sure a search of The Hungry Dog would result in at least 15 of her recipes, maybe more). However, I dislike her for being so much better than me in every single way. This is a good example of my immaturity.

Usually, though, she makes stuff I want to eat. Hunger trumps pettiness in this house. So when I  saw her make a fancy version of bucatini alla amatriciana during an episode she filmed with her Aunt Rafi (who, incidentally, I'd like to be related to), I knew it was going on my to-try list.

Giada took a basic recipe amatriciana recipe (a staple in our house, though I use a Marcella Hazan recipe, tweaked) and as my little niece Scrappy would say, "kicked it up a nacho." She put together some delicious and simple meatballs, stuffed them with mozzarella, and served them alongside the pasta amatriciana.

This is a very good idea. While I did make some minor adjustments--I swapped pork for the veal; doubled the amount of crushed tomatoes; and used plain mozzarella instead of smoked--the overall concept is spectacular. And although it's a little more work than just making amatriciana, it's a whole lot more exciting.

The only other adjustment I'll make next time is to use spaghetti--or rigatoni maybe-- instead of bucatini. Although it's traditional with this sauce, I've always found bucatini hard to eat. The husband agreed, although he seemed happily distracted by the savory little meatballs oozing mozzarella into the spicy tomato-and-bacon sauce.

Clearly, this is not a sauce for the vegetarian. Or even for those who don't eat pork. While I think the meatballs would be delicious with ground chicken or turkey, I can't imagine a good amatriciana without pancetta or bacon. I mean, that's just tomato sauce.

It'd be hard to not to love a big bowl of this pasta, especially if you're enjoying it on a windy friday night with your sweetie and a good bottle of Chianti. In fact, I'm certain nothing trumps that.

Cobb Salad, discovered

While generally I don't consider using recipes for salads--who needs to be told how many radishes they like or what type of lettuce they prefer?--once in a blue moon, I'll do it.

Such an occasion arose last Sunday, which you may recall was Mother's Day. While considering what to make for the celebratory lunch, I contemplated and nixed a variety of ideas: a savory tart; a light-ish seafood pasta; a creamy soup with some kind of fancy sandwich.

None of these seemed quite right, and as I dithered about what to make and the hours slipped away, I eventually came across this appealing recipe for Cobb Salad over at Smitten Kitchen.

Since I'd already determined the lunch would include dessert (the so-so strawberry shortcake), I wanted an entree that was satisfying but not heavy. We had the rest of the afternoon to soldier through, after all, during which I planned on torturing my mother with hundreds of photographs from our trip. I wanted an alert audience! (For the record, she sat through them patiently, even asking questions and oohing and aahing at all the right moments. What a mom!)

Cobb Salad was just the ticket. And while I've eaten many in my lifetime, I've never made one. Turns out they are spectacularly easy, though do require a number of steps and quite a bit of chopping.

I made a few minor adjustments: adding more lemon juice to the vinaigrette (my taste nearly always runs to the bitter or sour; I hate to think what this might say about my personality?); and ditching the watercress for some green leaf lettuce I had on hand (watercress would have been excellent, but I'd already purchased two kinds of lettuce for this salad, and for some reason, this was my self-imposed limit).

Although the original recipe called for serving the salad in one magnificent bowl, I knew this was not the way I would want to be served a main-course salad. I imagined all of us trying to delicately serve ourselves while trying to ensure we got some of everything. Meanwhile, I envisioned wasted crumbles of blue cheese and bacon bits overflowing onto the tablecloth. Instead, I opted to dress all the greens together, then dish up the salads separately, with the toppings arranged on each one as artfully as I could manage. I brought extra dressing to the table, which we all used.

I have to say, the salad was an indisputable hit. Quality ingredients make the difference, of course, since there's little skill involved in assembly. I had just roasted a chicken the day before was able to use that rather than a simple poached breast (which I would have done otherwise but would not have been nearly as flavorful), we had a perfectly ripe avocado on hand from our CSA box, and the husband had chosen a heavenly blue cheese from Marin.  With crusty bread and glasses of Prosecco,  it was a lunch more than worth the (minimal) effort.

Strawberry shortcake

I have to confess that when I think of strawberry shortcake, the first thing that pops to my mind is this:

What can I say? I was a kid in the 80's. Actually, more specifically, I think of these dolls:

 

Yes, Strawberry Shortcake and her band of smelly friends, each one scented to match the fruit in their name: Huckleberry Pie, Apple Dumpling, Raspberry Tart. My parents were very kind to let me collect these (in retrospect, hideous) dolls, which made my room smell like a bowlful of Jolly Ranchers. Just thinking about it makes me gag a little.

In any case, after these images run through my head I am also reminded of another strawberry shortcake. You know, the dessert. Made in the peak of strawberry season--I think that's now!--it's a lovely, homey, delicious dessert. I decided to make it for Mother's Day, as it is one of my mother's, and her late mother's, favorites.

In the past I've used a shortcake recipe I really liked: sweet and super buttery, somewhere between a cookie and cake texture. I couldn't find it this time around and was relegated to Googling. I ended up picking out this recipe (well, just the biscuit part. Who needs a recipe for sugared berries?)

I have to tell you, although part of it was my fault in overworking the dough, yielding a slightly tough shortcake, I also decided I am not a fan of the biscuit-as-shortcake. It wasn't nearly sweet enough.

The dessert looked pretty, though, topped with overzealously whipped cream (just a few minutes away from butter--yikes!):

My mom seemed to like it, or at least said she did. Perhaps this is only further evidence of her good mothering. The husband wolfed it down in under two minutes, also meaningless, as he is generally Godzilla-like in his consumption of sweets, swallowing cookies and cakes practically whole.

While I wasn't overly pleased with the outcome, it did whet my appetite for more shortcake, of any variety. Berries are wonderful, of course, but in the summer a stone fruit would be perfect. So, I ask you: any good shortcake recipes to pass along? If you do, and you're local, I'll share my efforts.