Tuesday, January 16, 2001
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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