
After OD-ing on leftovers all weekend, my husband and I got a craving for pasta today. Soothing pasta with a creamy sauce that will combat the gale winds and freezing temperatures outside. Pasta is the kind of food that a constant stream of turkey/mashed potato/mayonnaise/mustard/spinach on sourdough sandwiches inspires.
However, when it comes to certain items in my pantry, I need inspiration of the kick-in-the-pants variety. I study the jars containing butterscotch chips, candied ginger, lentils, cous cous, and black-eyed peas and think, "What in the heck can I make with this stuff?" If I'm at all resourceful that day, I'll fish one item - say, sesame seeds - from the recesses to use.
Farfalle pasta brings out such resourcefulness in me. When I stop to consider it, bowtie pasta projects elegance and understated beauty of the semolina variety. It beckons to me from the pasta aisle. "Pick me!" It whispers. "I'm more intriguing than spaghetti. And I've got loads of charm over macaroni ."
I sigh, agree, and throw the pretty pasta into my bag. It makes the journey home., where it is ignored for weeks.
So, in my pantry sits bowtie pasta, and in my fridge sits a bag of dainty Shiitake mushrooms from the last Old Town Farmer's Market. Pat grows them, and she's great. Her mushrooms are less like the shrill, nose-assaulting fungi in a gigantic Asian markets and more like the treasures one could find in the forest after a rain. These mushrooms have a subdued, almost mysterious flavor. You have to close your eyes and concentrate to hear what they have to say.
Such a slight flavor deserves a cast of sturdy supporting characters. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: Parmesan, garlic, walnuts, and cream! A sauce is born.
Farfalle pasta with walnuts and mushroom cream sauce
Adapted from Miss Betty Crocker
- 1 cup chopped porcini or Shitake mushrooms, sliced thinly
- 8 oz. uncooked farfalle (or 1/2 a box of Barilla bowties)
- 2 Tb. olive oil
- 1 small yellow onion, finely finely chopped
- 2-3 cloves of garlic, sliced into thin blades
- a handful, or 1/2 cup, finely chopped walnuts
- 1 cup cream or heavy whipping cream (you choose the fat content that suits your needs)
- 1/2 tsp. salt
- basil for garnish or palette-cleanser or
- a sprinkling of red pepper flakes or coarsely ground pepper
- grated Parmesan cheese
Meanwhile (back at the ranch,) in a medium skillet, heat the olive oil and cook mushrooms, onion, and garlic, stirring occasionally, until tender. When they're almost done, toss in the walnuts and toast until the onions are ready. The walnuts should be toasted lightly, neither raw nor crispy-fried, and emit a rich and distinct fragrance.
Stir in the cream and salt, and heat the sauce to boiling. Reduce the sauce back to a lower heat, and let it simmer for 3 to 5 minutes, until lightly thickened. Toss the farfalle and the cream sauce together, and serve topped with some Parmesan. A green salad on the side with a vinaigrette and some basil wouldn't end the world, either.

3 comments:
The bowl has a chip in it, dork. I know, I know. It gives the meal "Character." It also makes us look like broke people who can't afford nice dishes. While that may be true, do we need to broadcast it? Hmmm???
Just kidding.
<3
I know! I looked for cute new dishes last weekend when I went thrifting, but I found nothing. I think the economy has been a big boon to the thrift stores!
(Christmas ideas, then? ;-)
A blog to end all blogs. I'm headed to dinner now, because of you, Kate.
And if they don't have pasta, with magic mushroom cream sauce, I'm going to be angry. That looks so amazing.
Your words (as I listened carefully to the imaginary call of the mushrooms) are a culinary and metaphorical delight!
I can not wait to buy the ingredients for this recipe. How inspirational! Besos!
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