Sunday Recipe: Christmas Ravioli Filled with Prosciutto, Figs and Marscapone

Every Christmas and every Easter, I make ravioli, maintaining my great-grandmother's tradition. As long as I can stand and have the strength to knead the dough, I expect I'll make the ravs. I grew up on ravioli filled with ricotta (recipe below). That's the mother recipe for me and all subsequent recipes derive from that.

Still, now that I'm the boss of the kitchen, I always make a second type of ravs, just to keep things fresh and fun for myself. In the past I've tried them with swiss chard and chicken livers, with pears and marscapone, with mushrooms, with swiss chard and potato, and this year I'm giving them a new twist -- prosciutto, fig and cheese.

Let me give you this caveat -- making the dough is not as hard or as daunting as it may seem, but you do have to get a good bit of elbow grease into it. Also, it's not the sort of thing you can rush. My dough recipe and secrets can be found here, in my original ravioli post -- Gram's Christmas Ravioli. It's important to make the dough before you tackle anything else. It really helps if it can rest at least 20 minutes and I usually let it rest for about two hours while I have some coffee, make the filling and do any other prep. Most importantly, when kneading the dough, do try to work it until it's good and elastic. It should be soft and not quite tacky, but not dry either.

For the filing, you will need:
about dried 8 figs
1/4 to 1/3 of a pound of imported prosciutto
1 cup of marscapone cheese
1/2 cup ricotta cheese
1/2 to 3/4 cup of grated or shredded parmesan cheese
1/4 cup grated romano cheese
healthy dose of freshly cracked black pepper

Here are the detailed instructions on the dough and assembly of the ravioli.

For the fig and prosciutto filling, it's pretty simple. I coarsely cut up the figs and the prosciutto and ran that through the food processor. In a large bowl, I mixed in the fig and prosciutto with the marscapone, ricotta, parm, romano and black pepper. You can adjust the ratios to suit your own palate, but I felt like the black pepper really added something to this, so I went kind of heavy in that regard.

I served these with my traditional Christmas sauce, but I think they would be fantastic with some sauteed greens (like chard or rapini), or just tossed in some butter.

Last note -- be careful not to overcook the ravioli. Nobody likes a mushy rav. Enjoy!

Sunday Recipe: Swiss Chard and Potato Ravioli

Every Christmas and every Easter, I make ravioli from scratch, as my great-grandmother did. Gram was from the tiny village of Pietransieri, in the Abruzzo region of Italy. Her ravioli are stuffed with cheese (ricotta, parm, romano, egg and parsley.) I grew up eating those ravioli and only those ravioli. Cheese or Bust! [I tried, once or twice, ravs filled with meat and never liked them, but have had more success in recent years with meat filled ravioli, in Rome and in Buenos Aires.] And so, I grew up making Gram's ravioli with my grandmother and when she died a few years ago, the tradition passed directly to me.

Working in my own kitchen with all day (or several days) to prep, I decided to experiment. While I always make a batch of Gram's cheese filled ravioli (recipe here), in the last few years I have also made:  ravioli stuffed with pear and mascarpone cheese, ravioli stuffed with chicken livers and swiss chard, and ravioli stuffed with mushrooms (recipe here.) All were delicious, by the way.

This Christmas, I got La Cucina, the ultimate compendium of all the foods from that glorious geographical boot known as Italy. The recipes contained therein are for cooks who know their way around the kitchen. They don't give very specific instructions. Or maybe it only seems that way because some of the recipes in this 2,000 page collection are so basic and simple or maybe they're just guidelines, realizing that food varies not only from region to region but from kitchen to kitchen.

Thus armed with an idea more than instructions, I set to work to make ravioli filled with swiss chard and potatoes. They were such a smashing success this Christmas, I've decided to bring them back for an Easter encore.

Sunday Recipe: Killer Butternut Squash Tacos with Salsa Verde

I'm always trying to think of new ways to eat tacos. I never tire of wrapping things in tortillas with some lime and some heat. I've filled tacos with beef and pork and chicken and fish and turkey. I've roasted meat and grilled meat and cooked it stove-top. I've cooked black beans and pinto beans and pidgeon peas for taco filling. And so, not surprisingly, I was thinking about how to make a vegetarian taco that had more vegetables.

Butternut squash to the rescue. I like to serve these with salsa verde, so I've included that recipe, too.

Let me say here that I made this dish for my cousin and her kids (both aged 16). All of them loved it. The point being -- serve this to your family and they won't mind at all missing meat for one night. In fact, I'm having a hankering right now.

Sunday Recipe: Aunt Fulmay's Sunday Dinner Spaghetti Sauce

My great-aunt Fulmay as a very young woman

My Aunt Fulmay was actually my great aunt -- my grandmother's (older?) sister. Though her given name was Philomena (after St. Philomena) everybody in the family called her Fulmay. [Her friends from beauty school called her Philly, a great nickname for Philomena.] Growing up in Western Pa., the name Fulmay never seemed odd to me, but when I got to college, none of my college friends could pronounce Fulmay (I have no idea why), but they always said Phoo-May, as though she were of Asian descent, rather than Italian.

In a family full of great home-style cooks, all of them with big personalities, my Aunt Fulmay had one of the bigger personalities. I was modified-vegetarian through most of my 20's (I ate fish and dairy, but nothing that walked the earth.) Aunt Fulmay told me to come up for a roasted chicken and when I told her I was vegetarian, she screeched, "But honey! What do you eat?!"

Then, she offered to make pork instead. True story.

Sunday Recipe: Italian Wedding Soup Re-Imagined

Pietransieri -- the source of great recipes and culinary inspiration

If you aren't Italian and if you didn't grow up in Pittsburgh, you may not even know what Italian Wedding Soup is. It's a sad state of affairs, I know. For the uninitiated, wedding soup is chicken broth, with baby meatballs, greens (usually escarole or spinach) and tiny pasta (generally acini de pepe). But if you you grew up in an Italian family in the Pittsburgh area, you probably had wedding soup at home -- we always had it at Christmas and Easter. I remember that my neighbors, the Polish, German and Slovak ones, didn't eat wedding soup for holidays. Talk about a sad state of affairs.

At some point in the mid-1980's, wedding soup exploded throughout the area and, like the Primanti's sandwich and the pierogi, became one of the hallmark foods of Pittsburgh. [We can only be grateful that they don't race tureens of wedding soup at PNC Park.] Now you can get wedding soup at pretty much any little diner and bar that serves food. It is everywhere. I'm shocked, actually, that Monday Night Football hasn't used wedding soup as their go-to Pittsburgh food image. (If you're not a sports fan, you don't realize that MNF has a gratuitous shot of a local food wherever they are. E.G., in Philly, it's always a cheesesteak; in San Diego, generally they show a fish taco; in Cincy, there is always a lingering shot of Skyline Chili; and in Pittsburgh, it's always, always a Primanti's sandwich. 'They put french fries right. on. the. sandwich!')

Sunday Recipe: Hot, Hot, Hot Fra Diavolo Sauce with Casareccia

The first time I had a fra diavolo sauce that blew my hair back was at a little joint in Boston's North End (pictured here. Yes, the lines are like that. No, I am not in that photo.) It was spicy and fresh -- not to wax poetic, but it tasted like sunshine.

Fra Diavolo is a spicy sauce meaning 'the devil's brother.' It is generally paired with pasta and/or seafood. (At Giacomo's, I had it with linguini and langostines. I have posted a variation on this sauce -- here -- paired with polenta.) In the years since my trip to Giacomo's, I have made fra diavolo probably hundreds of times, amidst various seasons, but right now really is best this time of year to make -- when you can easily lay your hands on vine-ripened, home-grown, dripping with flavor tomatoes and fresh hot peppers.

Sunday Recipe: Cocktail Hour

And now, for something really different.

It's that lazy time of summer when we've all been too hot for too long. No longer motivated to go out and actually do things, most of the time, after a long, hot day, all I want is a drink. Those of you who know me know that I am generally a beer drinker, but these are two great refreshing vodka cocktails I have been enjoying (and serving to happy visitors) for the last couple of weeks. Naturally, you can use whatever vodka you like, but I like to keep things hyper-local, from the produce I buy to the beer I drink, so I've been using Boyd & Blair Potato Vodka -- made with locally grown potatoes, distilled and bottled right in Glenshaw.

The first drink, a spicy mango concoction, comes courtesy of Rob, a distiller at B&B. It is bubbly and fruity, but also has a serious bite, thanks to the ginger beer and the arbol chilis. It's a party in my mouth.

Sunday Recipe: Grilled Veggies, a/k/a, Eat Like the Italians Eat

This is not a recipe, so much as a guide-post, a half-map, half-reflection on the bounty of summer. One of my favorite things to make for dinner in the summer is a mash up of grilled veggies, with grilled bread and some cheese. If you get the chance to travel in Italy, most restaurants have a sort of 'bar' of grilled veggies -- eggplants, roasted peppers, zucchini, etc. -- all available as side dishes. But this time of year, with farmer's markets booming in Western Pa., I like to serve the grilled veggies as the main course.

There are lots and lots of options for grilled vegetables and I've tried to grill everything but a cauliflower (although, now that I mention that ...) That said, certain veggies just scream to be grilled.  Exhibit A:  zucchini. And Exhibit B:  eggplant.

Maybe it's something about the squash family of vegetables, but I never eat eggplant unless it is grilled. Eggplants can get a little mushy and/or slimey, but toss them over a flame and they turn into silky, smokey goodness. The same is true for the humble zucchini and it's cousin, the yellow squash. I believe they are at their absolute best when cooked on a grill, nary a sautee pan in sight.

Sunday Recipe: East Meats West

The other day, I was craving meatloaf and then, of course, I reminded myself that I don’t really like meatloaf and that the only proper purpose for ground beef is to make a proper burger. But still, something about the texture and the homey comfort of a childhood favorite was calling to me. Of course, when I was a kid, I liked all manner of foods that don’t really stand up all that well to an adult palate -- freeze-pops and Big Macs, Campbell’s canned soup and tuna cassarole. They all seem so good in theory I suspect because such strong memories are attached to them. Our recollections are tainted, not to be trusted. In a good way, perhaps, but they are not to be trusted nonetheless.

For instance, my favorite meal when I was sick was Campbell’s cream of tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwiches (made with Velveeta and Town Talk bread, yo.) But the idea of that exact meal? Do I really want that now? Not so much, actually.

Sunday Recipe: Easter Ravioli with Pears and Marscapone

Every year, at both Christmas and Easter, I make ravioli and frankly, the Petracco tradition of ravioli are more sacred to me than the actual holidays. In sum, I cannot imagine Easter without them. Gram (pictured here as a middle-aged woman) lived to be 93. Might have been 94 or 95 -- we were never clear on her exact year of birth and I was 20 when she died. I grew up in a little house across the street from her little house and spent countless childhood and adolescent hours with her. I'm luckier than most people. The years I had with Gram I consider to be one of the great gifts of my life.

Gram and I did a lot of cooking together, but as to the actual ravioli, I grew up making those with my grandmother, Vera because by the time I came along, Gram was tired of the prep work and just let her daughter Vera do the rav making for our wing of the clan.

Sunday Recipe: All on a Mardi Gras Day Gumbo

As regulars know, I love all things New Orleans (except that nasty baby jesus king cake -- yech) and recently returned from a blissed out week of food, drink and music in the Crescent City. Today, to a soundtrack featuring Dr. John, Big Chief Bo Dollis, Ingrid Lucia, Trombone Shorty, Kermit Ruffins and others, Geargirl embarked on some serious gumbo research. (I fiddled around with said soundtrack on iTunes -- because I'm helpful that way.)

If you're expecting seafood in this gumbo, move on. Seafood gumbo is not in season in NOLA, so this is the winter version, with andouille sausage and chicken. There is a third variety of gumbo -- a green gumbo which I do intend to try to make when summer's bounty is available -- and I'll be using the recipe of the incomparable Leah Chase. At any rate, this is a gumbo based on that at Liuzza's by the Track. And if you happen to be in NOLA, do go to Liuzza's and eat some gumbo for me. (If it's a Monday, do get the red beans and rice.)

Sunday Recipe: New Year's Pork Roast and Sauerkraut

As anybody who grew up in Western Pennsyvlania knows, pork roast and sauerkraut are traditional New Year's Day foods and where I grew up, the population was so densely and predominantly Slovak, Polish and German, that we ate sauerkraut year round.

Now, everybody's family does their 'kraut differently. Some families like it super sour and others prefer it milder, almost sweet. So your mileage may vary on this.

My grandmother (the Scotch-Irish one, not the Italian one) leaned toward a richer version of 'kraut -- still a bit sour, but not sweet, rather just savory. I should say here that she was a great cook. I mean, truly great. And I think, in another place and time, with other opportunities, she might have made for a fine restaurant owner and cook. I'm not talking about opening a restaurant that serves foams and uses liquid nitrogen and the like, but a restaurant that makes just flat out delicious home cooking -- like the food you want to get at home, only better. This is my take on her sauerkraut (which she taught to my mother.)

Sunday Recipe: Christmas Ravioli Filled with Mushrooms

Yesterday, as always on Christmas Day, I made traditional ravioli. Well, they're a tradition in my family and growing up, I always felt sorry for kids who ate turkey on Christmas Day. How boring! Our Christmas tradition was always ravioli, a tradition started by my great-grandmother who left her tiny village in Abruzzo to make her way in America. Gram's traditional ravioli are filled with cheese and served with a rich, savory tomato sauce, one that is often flavored with a beef shank or some pork ribs or both. [My recipe for that sauce -- which I call Aunt Fulmay's Sauce -- is coming henceforth in a later post.]

Meanwhile, I made my traditional cheese filled ravs as family obligation dictates, but my feeling is that getting the dough right and then doing the assembly of the ravs is the hardest part, so every holiday (Christmas and Easter), I try another filling. This year, I made a mushroom filling and I have to say, for a recipe I basically made up on the fly, they were amazing -- Top Chef worthy ravioli.

Sunday Recipe: Sicilian Meatballs with a Basic Tomato Sauce

It started, simply enough, with a stale hunk of bread. Really.

I had purchased a loaf of rustic Italian bread from Breadworks and used about two-thirds of it. There it sat on my butcher's block in it's paper bag. It was too hard for sandwiches, yet I left it there. Finally, that stale hunk of bread taunted me. Silently, I could hear the bread whispering recriminations as I tried to catch up on my viewings of Top Chef and Parks & Rec. I tried to get on with some writing assignments, but the bread was almost shouting at me. This went on for a solid day. The next day I woke up and thought -- meatballs.

Sunday Recipe: Caribbean Seasoned Roasted Chicken a'la Belize

Few things say Sunday dinner to me like a whole roasted chicken and I often do a really basic Italian roasted chicken with garlic, thyme, etc., but a couple of weeks ago, I was craving a something a bit different. I started thinking about a trip I took to Belize years ago and the amazing spices of the stewed chicken I had there. Everywhere, positively everywhere, there was just amazing, rich, flavorful stewed chicken, from the tiniest hole in the wall joint to the less tiny hole in the wall joints. (What can I say -- I was in a remote area. There weren't Michelin starred restaurants -- but the food was amazing. Caribbean soul food.)


For years, I've thought about that chicken and finally I resolved to replicate those seasonings and flavors. Instead of stewing chicken parts, I thought I'd roast the whole bird.

Sunday Recipe: Beef Brisket Fit for Your Bubbe

I'm not a steak eater. I'm not that much of a meat eater, really. I like it, but it's hardly my favorite thing and when I crave beef, it's usually a good burger I'm after. But every year at Passover, Geargirl makes beef brisket or, as I think of it, Jewish pot roast. And I love it, even though I usually only eat it once, maybe twice a year. With the sudden dead of winter like conditions, brisket seemed like the perfect meal today.

Warning -- this recipe is very, very easy, but it is better if you can cook it one day, refrigerate it and then heat it and serve it the next day. Give yourself two days, is what I'm saying.

Sunday Recipe: Pasta with Butternut Squash Sauce

I love fall veggies, perhaps none more than all the varieties of squash available at this time of year. Last week, I posted a roasted cauliflower recipe (which I have made three times in the past two weeks and I intend to make again before this week is out.) Last fall, I posted a roasted butternut squash soup recipe that is one of my favorite soups of all time. Squash and pumpkin are used with pasta all over Italy, but particularly in the north, in places like Verona and Mantua, you find pumpkin or squash ravioli on every menu of every little trattoria you stumble into. I love pumpkin ravioli, but this is a much less labor-intensive way to pair pumpkin with pasta. It's a very simple recipe, but you need to start your prep about an hour before you want to eat, because you have to cook down the veg for a long time, so, be warned.

Sunday Recipe: Perfect Roasted Cauliflower

I love fall and winter vegetables. I love the idea of roasting cauliflower, but it's often either overcooked mush, or too crunchy for any use other than crudite. The idea of a cauliflower gratin is appealing, but most takes are just too cheesy, more like melted cheese with just a hint of cauliflower.

Last week, I hit the farmer's market and returned home with several heads of cauliflower, determined to make the perfect roasted cauliflower.

I think I succeeded. This dish is the perfect fall or winter accompaniment to a roasted chicken, pork roast, pot roast and it would make a terrific Thanksgiving side.

Sunday Recipe: Fregola Sarda with zucchini and cherry tomatoes

On one my many visits to Labriola's Italian Food Market, I noticed some artisanal pastas which I felt compelled to buy. Generally, pasta is pasta and while certain cuts go better with specific sauces, preferences are largely personal. I, for example, hate and will not eat rigatoni. Go figure.

Fregola Sarda are little round pastas (bigger than acini di pepe, but not quite as big as a dried currant), so I bought them and thought I would use them in a soup, maybe whip up some wedding soup (to be posted at a later date) But the fregola sarda were unlike anything I had ever seen -- coarse and golden brown. These are rugged little pastas, very appropriate for the rough island of Sardinia (turns out the 'sarda' is for 'Sardinia'.) It is made like acini di pepe (or really, almost any pasta), but after it dries, it is then toasted or baked, which gives it a rich flavor you don't normally find in pasta -- all toasty and warm and almost caramelized. Think about that -- caramelized pasta. (Band name?)

Sunday Recipe: Spicy Roasted Fra Diavolo Sauce served over Polenta

This time of year in Western Pennsylvania, if you are a gardener, you are probably inundated with hot banana peppers. If you are not a gardener, you probably know people who are over-run with banana peppers. Of, if you're like me, you can't resist buying a huge box of hot peppers from your local farmer's market. (Freedom Farms rules, by the way.)  Stuffed peppers are really popular, but beyond stuffing them, what to do with these fresh, spicy gems?

I've started roasting them by the bushel-full. They keep all their heat, but the roasting adds an amazing smokey flavor. Plus, the skin (which can be nasty) is removed in the process. The smell of the peppers on my grill brings out my neighbor who moved here from San Antonio, so every time I grill hot peppers, she tells me it smells like home to her. Instead of making something Mex or Tex-Mex with them, I use them primarily for a quick sauce. You can serve the sauce over any type of pasta, but I think it pairs best with polenta. (Whether the flavors end up being Italian or Mexican, the combo of hot peppers and corn meal is,  is a perfect marriage of flavors and textures.)