serious chocolate cookies

yes folks, these chocolate cookies are serious in their chocolosity.  Chocoliciousness.  Chocolaciousness.  You know.  The recipe is adapted from the joy of baking website.  Theirs look good, but I can't actually judge how they taste because of course I'm not capable of following someone else's recipe without tweaking it.  So, like I said, theirs look pretty good, but mine?  Mine are insane.

What you'll need:
450 grams semisweet chocolate
1/4 c. butter
4 eggs
1 1/3 c. sugar (I use raw sugar, just because it's what I have on hand)
1 Tbsp. vanilla extract (if you're lucky enough to be able to find it where you live.  The cookies work without it too)
1/2 c. all-purpose flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt

Step 1: Melt chocolate and butter over low heat.  Lick spatula.  Grin.

Step 2: Beat eggs and sugar until pale yellow and thick enough to fall from the whisk in ribbons.  If you're doing this by hand, get tired and stop before you get that far.  Worry for a second, but then relax because you know these cookies are going to turn out stupendous anyway.

Step 3: Add the melted chocolate mixture and the vanilla extract to the egg mixture.  Stir.  Drool.  Grin.

 Step 4: Add the dry ingredients and mix gently until completely combined.

Change tools frequently so you have an excuse to lick the whisk, the spatula, and the spoon.  Grin.

Step 5: Here comes the hard part.  Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and put it in the fridge for minimum half an hour, ideally an hour or more so that it firms up.  That means no sticking your finger in for extra licking.  Preheat the oven to 350 F (177 C) and try and distract yourself.

When it the dough comes out the texture will be much thicker, more mousse-like, and easy to scoop.

Step 6: Scoop it out with a small spoon onto a cookie tray with a silicone liner.  You could make them big, but they pack a pretty intense chocolately punch, so I like to make them really small.  That way also you can eat 10 and really it's only like you had 3.  If the dough is sticking too much, use a little warm water to moisten your fingers/the spoon.

Baking time varies a lot, so keep your eye on these guys.  I set the timer for 10 minutes and then watch like a hawk.  It'll depend a lot on how big you make them.  The tops will begin to crack and wrinkle, but they should still look very soft and doughy in the center.  We want these to come out chewy, not crispy like in the original recipe.

Step 7: Let them cool a little, otherwise they'll fall apart as you try to lift them.  Who are we kidding?  Just dig in!  And grin.

Note: even though you might not think it, with only 1/2 c of flour in them, this recipe will make a ton of little cookies.   Share them, give them away, eat them all yourself, I'm not judging.  Just saying. One thing I do is only bake half the batch, and save the dough for a day or two in the fridge.  It keeps pretty well, it hardens a lot more, but I don't think it has much effect on the final baked cookie.

roasted red and golden beets with hazelnuts

One often reads that roasting brings out the sweetness in beets. I don't get it. Beets are sweet, period.  Also, their flavour is very strong, which is why I find it hard to combine with other stuff. But I gave it another try. I don't discern a difference in taste between red and golden beets, but it's prettier if you mix the two.

Roast red beets and golden beets at 400 F until soft.
Roast hazelnuts and chop them roughly. (Well, no, I didn't chop them. More on that later.)
Make a vinaigrette with orange juice, balsamic vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper.
Combine everything.

Pretty good. But then I think anything with hazelnuts is pretty good.

For chopped hazelnuts, I used one of my favourite kitchen tools, the meat pounder.

 

I grew up watching our big burly neighbourhood butcher pound slices of beef or lamb, using one that's 2-3 times bigger than mine, raising his arm high and coming down with a loud slap. OK, I don't really remember whether he was big and burly. But my memory of it is a loud, violent gesture resulting in a beautifully shaped, delicate piece of meat. So when I saw this meat pounder for sale on an online Turkish groceries site, I grabbed it. I don't pound meat much, but when I do, I have a tool that's so much better than those small cube-shaped mallet-like things they sell here. And for crushing nuts, it's perfect.

chicken spinach crepes

Why oh why oh why did I learn how to make bechamel?  Now I can't stop...  And so I'm not alone in this, here's how to make delicious and not-so-good-for-you crepes.

First the crepes:
3 eggs
1 c. flour
a pinch of salt
enough milk to make the batter the right consistency

That may not seem like an accurate measurement, but it's the one my mama gave me, and I'm prety sure the one her mama used before her.  The right consistency is much more liquid than pancake batter, and a little bit more liquid than you think it should be.  How's that for precise.  This batch yielded 6 crepes.

Then the filling:
4 chicken breast filets sauteed and sliced

and separately:
4 strips of bacon, browned and crumbled
1 red onion diced and sauteed
a handful of mushrooms, diced and sauteed
and a ridiculous amount of fresh spinach, sauteed with everything else until it magically shrinks before your eyes to just barely enough.

And of course, the bechamel, to which I added a healthy does of smoked spanish paprika and a handful of grated emmental:
4 Tbs flour
4 Tbs melted butter
3 c. hot milk
salt to taste

Now you just load each crepe up with the chicken, the spinach mixture, and the bechamel, roll them up and top the whole thing off with some more grated cheese, and into the oven they go!

the ultimate winter comfort food

This was my favorite, back in the day. Whenever my dad asked what I wanted for dinner, this was my request. Coming home from college for a visit, this was what I wanted. Got a cold and feeling pathetic, this was what I wanted. Basically any night he asked, this was what I wanted. People thought I was crazy because he could make some crazy intricate gourmet feasts, but this dish is just so creamy and gooey and cheesy and filling and comforting... I could never get enough. This is his recipe, not mine, but this is the first time I've ever tried to make it, and it had been about 10 years since I'd last eaten it. Curious to see if it lived up to my memories? So was I...


Start off with the pasta. I used whole wheat pasta, as if that could possibly make this a healthier dish. I know, I'm not fooling anyone, but it made me feel less guilty somehow. Then sautee chicken breast filets and portobello mushrooms, and chop it all up into little pieces. My dad used to make it with duck. Go figure.


Then start in on the bechamel. I'd never made bechamel before! Add 4 Tbs flour to 4Tbs melted butter, make a paste, and then add 3 cups of hot 2% milk (I'm guessing that's what I used. Here they call it "semi-nonfat". Ha!), stirring like a madwoman. I'd made this once with my dad, but in my memory it all sort of instantly thickened and turned into this gooey creamy goodness. Well, the reality was non-instantaneous enough to make me worry for a good 4-5 minutes that I'd screwed it up. But then the magic happens, and it thickens. I'm sure you all know this, but it was a pretty big moment for me. After the relief and joy of success of thickening, add 1 cup of grated cheese, I used a mixture of mozzarella and emmental. Even gooier.


Now it all gets tossed together. The sauce, the chicken, the mushrooms and the pasta. And dumped into a casserole dish. And yes, topped with yet more grated cheese.

Into the oven it all goes. 375 for about 40 minutes, but you'll know it's done because it goes golden brown and bubbly and you get so excited you can't stop salivating.

And was it as good as I remembered? Absolutely. Husband says it was the best dish I've ever made. Ever. Huge casserole dish devoured by the pair of us in just 2 days. Don't make this often, because even with whole wheat pasta and semi-non-fat milk, it's gotta be not great for you. But do make it. Cause it's damn good for the soul. Thanks dad.

stuffed tomatoes

Made these a while back, along with tons of other stuff that I've photographed but not had the chance to actually sit down and write up. Suppose this is the bright side of being so sick for so long. Today I was able to take a shower and make myself some whole wheat pancakes, which definitely cheered me up. But still, no energy for venturing into the great outdoors, so here I am, catching up on the blogs.*        
These were inspired by my pal Lucia who always surprises me with her good cooking. Is it horrible of me that I would never have expected it of her? In any case, she made these once with ground beef and I flipped, so here's my version, with ground turkey instead, just cause.
It really is so simple it's almost embarrassing to write up, but it was just so damn good. I started off by sauteing onions and the ground turkey, along with the requisite salt and pepper and to be honest I can't even remember what else. Whatever you feel like throwing in at the moment. In the meantime I cut the tops off the tomatoes and scooped out the innards. Then I loaded them up with the meat
Then I topped them all off with a thick slab of goat cheese.  Yum.

Into the oven it all went, and came out once the cheese had all melted and oozed down inside the tomatoes. Delicious. I think maybe next time I'd peel the tomatoes and maybe put a bit of goat cheese in the bottom before the meat as well as on top. But even so, for a first run, I was happy.

*updated march 14, 2011.  Found more photos on husband's camera, and they were so nice I had to include them.  Please excuse the mix of quality, I'm working on getting better and more consistent with my photographs.

cornmeal pancakes save

Coming home this year after the holidays was hard, the monster known as Jet Lag pretty much tried to do us in. But we fooled him! Instead of tossing and turning in bed, or getting up in the middle of the night and watching stupid tv or wasting hours and hours online, I would get up in the middle of the night and make pancakes. Which, it turns out, is a great strategy, because then you go back to bed, and when you get up again and have to run around to make it to class on time, you've got the batter ready to go and all you have to do is drop a spoonful in the pan and the next time you pass through the kitchen your exquisite breakfast is ready.

The first batch was my usual whole wheat batter with agave syrup. But then I decided to be a little more adventurous and creative with my 3 a.m. energy. So I tried out this recipe from the NY Times. Now, this is the NY Times, people. You'd think they'd have their act together. But I knew something was wrong when I looked at the recipe. I thought, how odd! Maybe it's the jet lag, maybe I'm reading it wrong. But I read it over and over and yes, indeed, they are basically suggesting that if you mix cornmeal, water, milk and oil (with a few extra flavoring things thrown in), you will get pancakes. Well, if your intuition tells you, like mine tried at 3 in the morning, that all you will get is mush, pay more attention to it than I did. Seriously folks. Liquid and cornmeal, that's all you're using here. How could it possibly turn into a pancake? Well, let me tell you. It won't.

Of course, I didn't listen to my instincts. I did it like it says, minus the pine nuts because I didn't have any (but I hardly see how that could affect things). And then I heated the pan and put a little oil in it, and then when it was nice and hot, ladled out some of the 'batter'. Oh, the horror. If only I had a video or pictures to show you what happens. You'll just have to trust me. It is a splattering hot blob of crap; I'm sorry but there is no more refined way to say it. And the mush just sits there and bubbles and splatters everywhere, and, well, stays mush. So I scooped it up out of the pan and threw it in the garbage.

But now I had a huge bowl of cornmeal mush, and no breakfast to show for it. So I had to make something up. Here's what the recipe ended up being:

1 1/2 c. cornmeal, soaked in 1 1/2 c. boiling water until all the liquid is absorbed and the cornmeal softens
1 tsp. salt
1/2 c. milk
1 Tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 eggs, beaten
2 tsp. baking powder
2/3 c. whole wheat flour (approx.)
agave syrup to sweeten to your taste

The measurements are pretty much guesstimates, because like I said, I was just trying to save a disaster. But the results were pretty amazing, if I do say so myself.


I'd never had cornmeal pancakes before, but now I wonder, why the hell not? I love cornbread and I love pancakes, and I definitely love having a hearty breakfast to keep me going through the morning. These were perfect. Heavier (and more filling) than a regular pancake definitely, but still moist and fluffy.


Two small cornmeal pancakes, half a sliced banana, and a cup of greek yogurt = a little piece of heaven in the morning.

bread matters

My newly-developed totally immature habit. Shaving my bread.

Oh OK, from the beginning. I'm thinking about not baking bread anymore, because I'm not good at controlling how much of it I eat when I have a beautiful sourdough loaf in front of me. But I thought another solution would be to bake bread that I'm not crazy about, even if it's pretty good. That would be rye bread. Besides, I had all this rye flour at home, and white whole wheat flour (which I still don't understand). I couldn't bring myself to throw them away, so I thought I'd bake with them and see what happens.

I used these two flours with some bread flour (lost my notes, don't remember proportions - but you wouldn't really want to duplicate this bread anyway), sourdough starter, and a soaker consisting of steel-cut oats and flax seeds. Of course, topped with sesame seeds before baking.

Looks pretty good, eh? The taste is nothing extraordinary, which I expected, and the mouthfeel is not great. But the crust is beautiful.

Here comes the really immature part. I found myself nibbling at the crust, 'cause toasted sesame seeds are always awesome. And I couldn't stop. But I didn't want to eat the bread, 'cause that wasn't as great. So I kept picking at the crust. It was not an efficient method. I took my bread knife and sliced off the crust very thinly all around. Now I had nothing but goodness. The loaf ended up looking like this:

It's completely acceptable if you toast it. Plus this way, I don't eat a lot of bread. I think it's a great solution, but I don't know if I can continue to bake bread which at best is OK. We'll see.

lacinato kale with turnips and yogurt

I stare at the vegetables, trying to decide how to satisfy my leafy green vegetables addiction, and I always go home with lacinato kale. This time I grabbed a bunch of greens I'd never seen before. They looked like gigantic dandelion greens, big but tender, their colour a light green. I had no idea what they were. Then this woman came up to me and said that she had asked and found out that they were a variation of kale. Didn't look like it, but what do I know. And she said she cooked them, and they were not good at all. She had the demeanor (and looks) of an old hippie from a commune from the sixties, and I figured I had to trust her on matters of green vegetables. So I dropped it and went home once again with lacinato kale.

I wanted to try something a bit different. I decided to continue my experiments with root vegetables from last winter and combine the kale with turnips. I also wanted to make a yogurt sauce, because I miss the Turkish spinach with yogurt. (I miss it because they don't sell washed, clean, mature spinach here, and I get a severe reaction if I wash the spinach by hand. I swear. So I never make spinach.)

Slice one onion thinly and saute in oil.
Add to it seeded and sliced Fresno peppers (1 or 2, depending on how hot you like it).
Add the washed lacinato kale, sliced into one inch strips.
Add the peeled turnips, cut into one inch chunks.
Season with salt and pepper.
Add a bit of stock or water, and braise until almost done.

Combine about one cup of plain yogurt with one tablespoon of flour.
Add two teaspoons of tomato paste.
Mix well with a whisk so there are no lumps.
Add a quarter cup of the liquid from the kale to the yogurt mixture, to temper it.
Add this mixture to the kale slowly, in a steady stream, stirring continuously.
Bring back to simmer and cook for another 15 minutes.
Adjust the consistency of the liquid in the pan by reducing it if too thin or adding more liquid if too thick.
Enjoy.

You need to make sure that the flour gets cooked. Otherwise it'll be blecchy. Yup, that's a technical term.

So what do I think about the turnips in this dish? Meh. They had very little taste and no interesting texture. I think I'm through with my attempts to come up with something glorious with turnips. I don't mind eating them, but I haven't found a reason to choose them over something else when I'm cooking. I wouldn't crave them unless I was stranded on a turnip farm in the middle of a famine.

cauliflower with dried cherries

Trying to catch up here, so it'll be short and quick.

My favourite variation so far on roasted cauliflower, with dried cherries, walnuts and chipotle.

You can guess how it goes.

Separate the cauliflower into fleurettes on the smallish side.
Add salt and enough olive oil to coat.
Mix with your hands so the fleurettes are evenly coated.
Roast in a hot oven (about 400 F) until browned (20-30 minutes).
Add
     roasted chopped walnuts
     a fair amount of chipotle
     dried, pitted tart cherries.
Drizzle a bit with fresh olive oil and lemon juice.
Enjoy.

If you have the timing right, instead of roasting the walnuts separately you can add them to the cauliflower after about 20 minutes and they can finish roasting together. But be careful. If it takes longer than you thought for the cauliflower to brown, the walnuts may get burned.

If you're wondering why I'm adding walnuts to roasted cauliflower all the time, it's because of the texture. I feel like I need the crunch.

I used Trader Joe's Dried Pitted Tart Montmorency Cherries. The best ever dried cherries. I love them so much I use them on everything from salads to meats. And frequently, for a snack, I mix them with chocolate chips and nuts.

bass with prosecco and roasted fennel

Good to be back cooking. I'm still trying to figure out how to juggle work, cooking, and blogging. Sure was nice when I was on leave.

Anyway, back to sea bass. (Sometimes I think this blog should be called 'the bass and me' - I can't get enough of this fish.) Some prosecco turned up in my kitchen. Who, what, when, how, I have no idea. But decided to use it for the bass with roasted fennel.

I cut off the fennel stalks and sliced the bulbs lengthwise into two. Added salt, pepper and olive oil. Roasted at 375 degrees until done. Timing will vary according to how fat your bulbs are, anywhere from 20 minutes to 40 minutes. I find it best to roast them with the cut side up.

I layed the seasoned bass on a bed of the fennel stalks, drizzled it with olive oil, and added the prosecco. Steamed until done.

Removed the bass from the pan. Removed and discarded the fennel stalks. Reduced the prosecco until thickish and brownish, and sauced the bass with it. Absolutely delicious. I must cook with prosecco more.

baked figs

I always thought cooking figs in any way was sacrilegous. Eating a really ripe fresh fig, skin and all, is one of the most sensuous and pleasurable things you can do. I could never understand how people could bring themselves to cook a beautifully ripe fig. But finally yesterday, I  baked figs for the first time. 

I now live in a fig-deprived region, which brings tears to my eyes during fig season. Every now and then, California figs hit the market here. Full of hope, like a child who refuses to learn unpleasantness exists, I buy some. There's usually about two or three in the basket that I would consider ripe, the rest is trash. Figs don't really ripen after they are picked, and if picked ripe they would not travel well at all. So I understand. Still, it makes me sad.

When I saw them at Whole Foods this week, it suddenly occurred to me go with the flow, to acknowledge that the figs wouldn't be all ripe, and to deal with it. I bought two large containers. When I got home, I dumped them on the kitchen counter and divided the figs into two piles - the edible and the inedible. I could get enough edible figs out of the two baskets to make me happy. The others, I decided to bake, just to see why everybody thought this was a good idea.

I kept it simple. Split the figs down the middle, sprinkled them with a little bit (very little bit) of sugar, and put them in my trusted toaster oven for 15 minutes. I took them out when the sugar was caramelized. Then I drizzled them with a balsamic reduction.

Verdict? Meh. Definitely good enough to eat, but there's no way I can get excited about this when I know how fresh figs taste. I may make it again, because this gets rid of the guilt of throwing unripe figs in the trash. And that would allow me to buy figs more frequently for those few ripe ones.

developing good breakfast habits

I kicked the cereal/granola habit some years ago. I realized that I do not like sweet stuff in the morning. Lately, the routine has been toast with cream cheese. But regular cream cheese has too much fat, and low-fat cream cheese is too salty for me. Besides, I prefer something less processed.

Now that I make yogurt routinely, I decided to go for strained yogurt, which is marketed in the US as Greek yogurt, and is known in the eastern Mediterranean by its Arabic name labne. It's the easiest thing to make. I have a strainer with a very fine mesh, so I don't even use anything extra like cheesecloth or paper filters. Dump the yogurt in the strainer, place it over a bowl, and let it sit. I end up with this creamy and wonderfully thick yogurt, which accompanies my toast in the mornings. Hope I can keep it up.

If I add tomatoes with a bit of olive oil to this breakfast, it would be close to perfect for me. But it's probably not going to happen because 1) it's not safe to put a sharp knife in my hand when I first wake up, and 2) it's hard to get really good tomatoes and if I get one of those usual sour, tasteless, woody ones, I'd get really pissed off and that would not be a good way to start my day.

I have to say that breakfasts have become extra special because of home-made breads. I've stopped blogging about them because they have been turning out consistently good. The big turning point was starting to use a large stainless steel bowl to cover the loaf during the first ten minutes of baking (I wrote about it here).

Pretty, eh?

raw corn salad

Never made a salad with raw corn before, so I thought I'd give it a try, since we're at the height of the corn season.

2 ears of corn
2 medium heirloom tomatoes
3 small sweet red peppers
2 green onions
1 bunch of cilantro
salt and black pepper
lots of Aleppo pepper
2 tablespoons of yogurt
a lot of olive oil

It was good, especially since there was gorgeous home-made bread to accompany it. But did the corn shine? I dunno. I must admit I don't get this American thing about fresh sweet corn. Must be a cultural difference. It's sweet alright, too sweet as far as I'm concerned, and nothing more to it than the sweetness, really.

roasted cauliflower salad

Cauliflower  and asparagus roasted with salt, pepper, and olive oil. Combined with seasoned slices of heirloom tomatoes, mozzarella, and walnuts. Sprinkled with Aleppo pepper, topped with lemon juice and olive oil. Yum.

braised kale

I crave green leafy vegetables, and the dinosaur kale (lacinato kale) is one of my favourites.  It's super healthy, and becomes surprisingly chewy when you braise it. You know how fixated I am about texture and chewiness.

image from examiner.com san francisco

I've always braised it, though with different stuff as the mood strikes me. Last night's was a winner. You can substitute any leafy vegetable for it, but some greens (e.g. collard greens) I find too tough, and some (the tasteless spinach you get in the US) too insipid, although chard turns out delicious too.

I know it looks like another mud fest, but trust me, it's good.

1 red onion, sliced
2 carrots, sliced
1 jalapeño, chopped
2 bunches of kale, sliced into 1" strips
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup of water (or stock)
salt and pepper
3 tablespoons pomegranate syrup

It's easiest to slice the kale while it is still in a bunch, and then wash it. I don't strip the stems, but I do discard about 3-4" from the end.

Something about my body chemistry must be changing because I held down the jalapeño with my left hand while chopping it, and my hand burned for almost 24 hours. This is the second time it happened. Didn't used to. So from now on, I wear my kitchen/surgical gloves when chopping hot peppers.

Saute the onion, carrots, and the jalapeño in the olive oil.
Add the kale.
Season with salt and pepper.
Add the water and cook on low heat until the kale has the texture you like. For me, that's about 40 minutes.
Make sure there's a bit of braising liquid left, so you can dunk home-made bread into it.
Add the pomegranate syrup a little at a time, according to taste. I like mine quite acidic.

Remember that when any dish is eaten chilled, it needs more oomph. So if you thought that the saltiness and the tanginess was just right when you took it off the heat, you might want to recheck it after chilling it. 

You can serve the kale warm, but I had mine cold today and it was a great lunch for a hot summer's day.  Love the combination of the deep flavours of the kale with the heat of the jalapeño and the tartness from pomegranates. By the way, it's the pomegranate syrup that turns the dish a muddy brownish colour. Learn to love it.

chana dal, again

Some days I think there's nothing to cook at home, and I realize I can still come up with a nutritious and decent meal. A few days ago, I had weird left overs. The butt end of a bunch of parsley, with some leaves still attached, the green stalks and fronds of the fennel, the last few slices of bacon. And my kitchen is almost never without green peppers, carrots and onions. Plus all kinds of legumes for protein. OK, another chana dal dish, I decided.

I cut up the bacon, cooked it well to render the fat, and discarded most of the fat. Then added to the pan chopped green peppers, chopped fennel parts, chopped parsley stalks and leaves, sliced red onions, sliced carrots. Now that's heavy duty aromatics. Looked pretty.

Then I added the chana dal without pre-cooking it. It works, but it takes quite a long time to cook. Not like lentils.

I added a bit of water, and simmered until the chana dal was done.

It tasted very nice, but it was one of those days when I needed something sharp and strong.  I remembered that I had some chimichurri which had been sitting in the fridge. Dumped it all in there. Now we had more herbs, lots of garlic, and some acid. That was what it needed.

What starch to accompany it? I don't know how this happened, but I was out of bulgur. But I had farro. I had used some of it when I was baking bread, and now it was time to see how it cooked into a pilav. I kept it simple. Added some tomato paste and a bouillon cube to the olive oil in the pan, added 2 cups of water and brought it to a boil, then put in 1 cup of farro. Turned it down and let it simmer until done. Verdict? Unexciting but very pleasant. Nice toothiness -  texture not as chewy as wheat berries but more 'alive' than bulgur. The more I ate it, the more I liked it as an accompaniment to something else with rich flavours. Just right for the chana dal.

So I had a delicious dinner. Patted myself on the back for cooking something so healthy (and frugal, though I must admit that's not a major concern when it comes to food) with whatever was lying around.

And then it hit me. True, a dish made out of staples and left overs. True, it tasted excellent. But it was way too complex. Somehow I yearned for something naked and pure and simple. And then my daughter posted about simple pleasures. Yup, we're like that, my baby and I.

simple pleasures

Sometimes in life you just crave the simple things, the basics. Sometimes you want to make experiment, branch out, expand your horizons, and sometimes you just want a grilled cheese sandwich. Or vanilla ice cream. Or spaghetti bolognese.


Simple enough, I'm sure you all do this too, but I just enjoyed the meal so much I had to post it.

Onions and red peppers, diced and sauteed.


Ground beef, browned, along with (gasp) canned tomatoes, which I actually just squish between my fingers rather than chop up, and a nice stream of red wine. Salt, pepper, oregano, and Turkish red pepper.

And that's it. Made some whole wheat spaghetti, and then topped it all off with grated pecorino romano.