(Perforated Lines--you can't resist 'em)

(today's stew)

(left arrow) Tuesday, January 16, 2001 (right arrow)

 

12:26 a.m. I've become totally obsessed with food. Immersed, you might say. It started with the simple idea of using up the things we had in the closets and the freezer instead of running out to the store to restock just the front of the shelves.

All that strange stuff at the back was getting dusty -- but no longer. Today I officially cleaned out both the bins at the bottom of the fridge: homemade applesauce with cranberries! Cream of carrot soup with just a touch of broccoli! Plus two kinds of bread, oh stop me! Stop me now ...

The very worst thing I've done in this whole quest to use what I already have in the house came from an attempt to make a simple potato-broccoli-cheese casserole dish that is really quite good. The combo, I mean -- for some reason those three things go together very well.

Well. For starters, I was lazy, and I had a pot on the back of the stove with the chopped-up broccoli simmering away, so I threw the cut-up pieces of potato into the water to pre-cook them before I finished them off with some oil and garlic. One thing led to another and that dish became a sort of potato-green mush, but very, very tasty.

Of course, since I was trying to use up the potatoes, I made way too much. I dutifully put the leftovers in the fridge and wondered if I'd be in the mood for them for a few more days ... and then the next day (Sunday) ... and I was innocently reading the Sunday newspaper, minding my own business ... when I came across The Recipe.

Gnocchi. Good old gnocchi. Of course -- I loved it as a child, watched my mother make it many a time, but I've never made it myself. Gnocchi. The stuff of dreams; Italian dreams. Sigh, I tell you: big sigh.

I did the deed. I riced the green-potato mush and I blended in egg and flour. Semolina, even, because I just happened to have some of it at the back of the shelf. I kneaded the dough, as if I'd always known how. I rolled out the snakes as the Giants routed the other team, rolling rolling rolling to the comforting rhythm of the roar of the crowds, just like my momma used to do when it was the middle of the ninth and the Phillies had loaded the bases.

It took forever, by the way. The leftover potato made a huge pile of gnocchi, and let me tell you ... it was the most delicious thing I've ever eaten. Rich, light, firm yet yielding. The deepest pleasure one can have with boiling water and salt and a whole day to spare.

What an incredible pain in the neck. Flour everywhere, sticky hands, intricate cuts and twirls with the tines of a fork to mark them with swirls, just so, because I don't yet have the knack of flicking them with my thumb and forefinger the way my mother can.

Of course, I'm going to have to make some more of the little sweeties one of these days. Toss them in butter and sprinkle them with cheese. Dreams are made from ingredients like these.

 

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(spinning balls)

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