Eating to a Different Beet

Fig.1. Chioggia beets are quite beautiful to look at when raw; when cooked the beets turn pink. When fresh, beet leaves are perfectly edible, eat them in salads or cook them as you would rapini.

A trip to the market these days is truly wonderful. Because of the heat everything is early. The fava beans are aplenty, as are string beans and broad beans, the mere sight of all those zucchini blossoms makes my heart skip a beat, and, if I keep eating them stuffed with cheese and deep fried, my heart might cease to beat altogether. And if all this wasn't euphoric enough, tomatoes are at last beginning to taste the way a tomato should taste.

Lisa and I have been quite busy these days making jam (strawberry, raspberry, ground cherries and blueberry-wild blueberries are just starting to make an appearance. I found some from Abitibi, but according to LCN, the famed wild variety from Lac Saint Jean will be in short supply this year. I think the blueberry producers are just creating demand in order to boost up the price.) We've also been freezing bags upon bags of beans: simply blanch the beans in boiling water for a few minutes, drain, then put into freezer bags.)

I also was surprised to find Chioggia beets at the Birri kiosk. Chioggia beets, named after the coastal town of Chioggia off of the Venetian lagoon, have a very distinctive "candy cane" appearance. The concentric red and white circles will however turn a uniform pink when cooked. You can eat them raw, but their high levels of geosmin (an organic compound) gives the Chioggia beet a strong earthy taste and best if eaten with bread, or drizzled with (a real) balsamic or vino cotto. When cooked they become sweet, cook them the same way you would cook a potato.


Fig.2. Make sure the beets are even and not overlapping.


Fig.3. When cooked properly, the beets will be crispy and slightly chewy on the outside, and tender in the center; the white and red colors will turn a pinkish purple.

Chioggia Beet Chips

Chioggia beets can be baked whole, either wrapped in foil or in a roasting pan, I often add beets whenever I'm roasting a chicken. Slicing the beets will caramelize and crisp up the beets, if you can't find Chioggia beets, regular beets will also work.


Ingredients:

Chioggia beets, sliced 1/4" thick
Bush basil--you can use whatever fresh herb you would like.
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper

Directions:

Preheat oven to 375. Place the sliced beets on a cookie sheet, drizzle with olive oil, add your herbs, salt and pepper and toss, making sure they're evenly coated and that there is enough oil coating the cookie sheet. Arrange them on the cookie sheet side by side (make sure none are overlapping) cover tightly with foil and bake for 15 to 20 minutes. When the beets crisp up, flip them over, re-cover and bake until the other side crisps up as well. Sprinkle with coarse salt just before serving.

Antonio Pettinicchi: A Man Whose Ideals you can Taste


Fig.1. Some of the products Antonio Pettinicchi brings with him to Montreal--unadulterated, natural and healthy.

To say that Antonio Pettinicchi is passionate about the products he makes would be an understatement. Pettinicchi, who hails from the town of Lucito, located in the province of Campo basso, owns and operates a Azienda Agricola Biologica. Pettinicchi sells much of what his company makes here in the Montreal and outlying areas. Passata e polpa di pomodoro (pureed and chopped tomatoes), peperonata (pureed peppers), pate di olive (olive paste) and peperoncino macinato piccante (minced hot peppers, I’ve been buying these for years, they’re spicy but they also taste of peppers.) are just some of the wonderful products Pettinicchi and his wife Tina grow and make on their farm in the region of Molise.
I met Pettinicchi in his St Michel warehouse where he ranted about the problems within the business of food and extolled the virtues of growing food naturally and bottling without any preservatives. “Everything I make has an expiry date, and that’s how it should be” exclaims Pettinicchi when I asked him to explain the function of sulfites found in most vinegar products. “Sulfites will preserve the vinegar, but it’s also not good for you.” I tasted his wine vinegar—it was sharp and acidic but light and flavorful. Pettinicchi also has real balsamic vinegar from Modena. I’m talking the real stuff here, no caramel or sugar added, just oak-aged wine from trebbiano grapes. “Norman Laprise asked me years ago to get him good balsamic vinegar; he buys one that’s forty-five years old.” I unfortunately didn’t taste Toque’s! balsamic but Pettinicchi did let me sample a twenty-five year old that was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted. The list of restaurants Pettinicchi sells to is indeed impressive; aside from Toque!, they include Laloux, Le Club Chasse et Peche, Decca 77, Newtown, and L’eau a la Bouche. (For a complete list click here.)
Pettinicchi was eager for me to sample some of his products, armed with a hand full of plastic spoons, Pettinicchi offered up preserved artichokes, hot peppers, rapini sotto aceto (rapini in vinegar), and a porcini and white truffle paste. Pettinicchi then brought out a large suitcase which contained several bottles of his olive oil. “My olives are picked one day and pressed the next, and I only press what the trees provide, if I sold containers of oil the oil wouldn’t be good.” Pettinicchi’s oil was indeed extraordinary and it should be pointed out that Pettinicchi uses his olive oil in all of his products—if you buy his preserved artichokes for example, you can then use the oil for cooking or dressing salads. But what really stood out for me was some of his flavored oils, namely, his lemon and garlic oil. Pettinicchi exuberantly explained that the pronounced flavors were a result of macerating the olives and the flavoring ingredients together: rather than chemical flavoring agents, or the common practice of letting lemons sit in oil on a supermarket shelf, Pettinicchi adds the lemons to the olives and everything is pressed together. Pettinicchi also boasted how his oil is filtered with natural cotton, the industrial standard uses pressed, bonded paper.
I’ve been buying Pettinicchi’s products for years; his pastas (which he does not make but buys from someone as fervent as he his) are made from Italian semolina flour only! No imported flour as is the case with all large pasta manufacturers. Pettinicchi’s products are available at Charcuterie Noel, Milano and Capital and many shops outside of Montreal—for a complete list click here.

Fig.2. Some of the olive oil Pettinicchi makes: Picked one day and pressed and bottled the next.

Mozzarella di Bufala: Better Warm Than Cold

Fig.1. A proper mozzarella di bufala is blissful. When warmed, the aromas are milky and lay claim to the animal from which it derives. I like to open the cheese into a pocket so it can collect the oil. Great ingredients like this require no fuss--assemble and eat.

Sitting in a tiny restaurant in Ceprano waiting for whatever antipasti the chef deemed appropriate for the night, it came as no surprise that we were served some mozzarella di bufala, what was surprising was the manner in which it was served: warm. In a small terracotta bowl, sat three mozzarellas, warmed slowly in the briny, whey liquid they were preserved in. I asked the chef/owner (who occasionally ventured out of his kitchen to perform some table duties) if this was typical of the region or culture, he answered somewhat hastily that eating the cheese warm brought out the essence of the milk. I like to say that it brings out the essence of the animal.
Mozzarella di Bufala from Italy has become easier to find in Montreal; look for full-fat water buffalo’s milk, usually indicated on the container. Fior di latte, made from the milk of cows, can also be purchased in brine and is a far cry better than the vacuumed packed rubbery, cheese products which in Canada misguidedly bear the name mozzarella. Many Italians (from Italy) believe real mozzarella di bufala to be fleeting and ephemeral, that unless it is eaten within hours of being made, the cheese looses its flavors. This is true, but seeing as how there are no buffaloes being milked anywhere near Montreal, we'll just have to settle for the imports. Mozzarella di bufala is expensive, and in my opinion, is wasted if melted on pizza (a fior di latte is perfect for pizzas and sandwiches) Enjoy mozzarella di bufala on its own and see if you can taste the animal.

Fig.2. I recommend a small oven proof bowl, if you don't have one, a coffee cup would do the trick seeing as how you're only warming up the cheese and not cooking it.

Warm Mozzarella di Bufala with Olive Oil and Bush Basil

Ingredients:

Mozzarella di bufala (available at most specialty, Italian food shops)
Olive oil (use your very best, first, pressed olive oil here.)
A few springs of bush basil (you can also use leaf basil)
Sea salt

Directions:
Preheat your oven to 275 degrees. Place the cheese and its brine in a very small, oven proof bowl and place in the oven for about ten minutes, (you don’t want to melt the cheese you just want to warm it up) After ten minutes, rotate the cheese so that the exposed part can also warm up in the brine, warm for another five minutes. Place the cheese (without the brine) on a plate, tear slightly in half, sprinkle with basil, drizzle with olive oil and salt and enjoy slowly. You won’t need bread for this one, however, if you add some good tomatoes you will find yourself with a very good insalata caprese.

Grilled Tomato with Warm Mozzarella di Bufala and Bush Basil oil


Fig.3. The mozzarella holds a lot of liquid so if you have too much on your plate, pour some off before adding the oil. Some brine is good, especially if you have bread to sop it up with.

Directions:
Place some basil in a mortar and pound it with a pestal, once your basil is mushed up add some olive oil, stir well and set aside. Cut a large tomato in half and grill until you get some grill marks. Warm the cheese as indicated in the above recipe and arrange on a plate. Drizzle with the basil oil, and season with sea salt and freshly ground pepper.

Korean Pulled Pork-Momofuku Style

Fig.1. After 8 hours, and a final brush of brown sugar, the bo ssam gets that perfect deep, golden brown skin. The outside is sweet and crusty.

Sometimes the best piece of meat you can barbecue is one that needs the least amount of attention—and one that doesn’t require a barbecue. Pulled pork has got a lot of attention within the last couple of years; probably because it looks great in pictures. But for some reason it’s perceived as elusive and impossible to make at home, unless you live in Texas, have 5 grills, and your name is Dr. BBQ. Well, let me tell you that pulled pork is probably the easiest authentic barbecue you can make, and my inspiration came not from the American deep south, but in Korea.
Bo ssam is essentially Korean pulled pork. The version below comes from the Momofuku cookbook. In David Chang’s version of bo ssam the meat is slow cooked in the oven for 6 hours. I started the pork shoulder in the oven and transferred it to my gas grill for the last couple of hours. I love using my smoker grill, but sometimes you just want to stay indoors, especially when the weather isn’t cooperating; and the smell in my house was insane-pork heaven.
In Korea, the pork is usually steamed, and served in a lettuce envelope with fixin’s consisting of raw oysters and kimchi. I used the lettuce as suggested, but made David Chang’s ginger scallion sauce as the accompaniment; believe me, the meat didn’t need any help, in fact, might I suggest unleashing your inner carnivore and eat with you hands.

Bo Ssam (from, Momofuku, David Chang and Peter Meehan)
Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients:
1 whole 8 to 10 pound bone-in pork butt (In the United States, a pork shoulder is referred to as a pork butt, so if you go to a Canadian butcher, ask for a pork shoulder.)
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon kosher salt
7 tablespoons light brown sugar

3 to 4 heads Bibb lettuce, leaves separated, well washed, and spun dry (If you can’t find any Bibb lettuce, you can substitute curly lettuce.)



Directions:
Put the pork shoulder in a roasting pan, ideally one that holds it snugly. Mix together the granulated sugar and I cup of the salt in a bowl, then rub the mixture into the meat; discard any excess salt-and-sugar mixture. Cover the pan with plastic wrap and put it into the fridge for at least 6 hours, or overnight.
Heat the oven to 300F. Remove the pork from the refrigerator and discard any juices that have accumulated. Put the pork in the oven and cook for 6 hours, basting with the rendered fat and pan juices every hour. The pork should be tender and yielding at this point—it should offer almost no resistance to the blade of a knife and you should be able to easily pull meat off the shoulder with a fork. Depending on your schedule, you can serve the pork right away or let it rest and mellow out at room temperature for up to an hour.
When ready to serve—sauces are made and lettuce is washed and dried—turn the oven to 500F.
Stir together the remaining 1 tablespoon of salt and the brown sugar and rub the mixture all over the pork. Put it in the oven for 10 to 15 minutes until the sugar has melted into a crisp, sweet crust.

Accompaniment

Ginger scallion sauce

Ingredients:
2 ½ cups thinly sliced scallions (green and whites; from 1 to 2 large bunches)
½ cup finely minced peeled fresh ginger
¼ cup grapeseed or other neutral oil
1 ½ teaspoons of light soy sauce
¾ teaspoons sherry vinegar
¾ teaspoons kosher salt, or more to taste.

Directions:
Mix together the scallions, ginger, oil, soy, vinegar, and salt in a bowl. Taste and check for salt, adding more if needed. Though it’s best after 15 or 20 minutes of sitting, ginger scallion sauce is good from the minute it’s stirred together up to a day or two in the fridge.

Fig.2. After six hours the pork gets its color, it's important to baste the meat every hour. And don't use any kitchen tongs or forks to move the meat, you'll ruin the skin. Except for the basting, the pork doesn't need to be touched at all.

Note: It takes about 2 to 3 hours before you see any pan juices, so don’t panic at the beginning. I cooked the shoulder at 275 degrees F rather than 300 degrees F as called for only because I believe that when cuts such as pork shoulders are concerned, slower is better. Also, my pork shoulder weighed about 15lbs so I cooked it for a total of 8 hours: 6 hours in the oven, and the last 2 hours in my gas grill. If you’re worried about whether the meat is cooked, use a meat thermometer, (if it isn’t cooked after 8 hours, you forgot to turn on your oven), look for a reading of 165 degrees F. Place the whole pork shoulder in the center of the table and let your guests serve themselves, place some of the meat in a lettuce leaf (think of the leaf as pita bread) top with some of the ginger scallion sauce and tuck in.
If you have any leftovers, cut up the meat and add it to a tomato sauce, what you get is a “ragu di maiale” (pork ragu). There you have it; I had to add the Italian element somewhere.

Ingredient + Heat = Grilled Artichokes

Fig.1. Big and small artichokes. An artichoke is a flower bud yet to blossom. The purple part you see is the actual flower, which, if left to grow would blossom. If the hairy "choke" part bothers you, just scoop it out with a small spoon. The smaller variety don't have the hairy chokes. Also, to test an artichoke's freshness, bend a leaf, if it snaps it's fresh, if it bends over, it's past its prime.

I was at the market the other day evaluating some artichokes when a woman tells me, “I would love to make artichokes but I don’t know what to do with them.” To which I simply replied, “You cook them.” Now before you assume that I was being a smart-ass let me just say that while I might have been stating the obvious it is sometimes the very obvious that eludes us.
Cooking shows and recipe books often complicate food preparation, forgetting the most basic of cooking principles: Ingredient + Heat = Food. And with this formula in mind I told the inquisitive lady to forget about removing the stems, outside leaves, and tops of the artichokes, forget about soaking them in water, and forget about rubbing them with lemon juice; cut them in half, grill them, and when they’re done, drizzle them with vinaigrette.
The lady looked at me as though I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about but I insisted that she give it a try. She told me that she never heard of grilled artichokes before and that I must be thinking of asparagus. I proceeded to tell her that I was quite aware of the difference between asparagus and artichokes and that I recently returned from a trip to Italy where grilling artichokes is very common, hoping this would reassure her, but I still sensed some apprehension on her part, so, I was forced to give her a Hungry Italian business card while I continued to rant about the needless butchering most celebrity cooks inflict on the helpless artichoke. She put some artichokes in a bag, and like a hiker who inadvertently walks upon a sleeping bear, she slowly took some steps toward the cash register, facing me all the while. If you're reading this, lady, let me know how your artichokes turned out.

Fig.2. Believe me when I tell you nothing on earth smells as good as grilled artichokes. It takes a little practice and technique (a lot of it depends on your barbecue) but the reward is in the smell and taste.

Directions:

Set your grill to medium high and preheat for 10 minutes. Cut your artichokes in half just before you grill them (otherwise they will begin to turn brown.) Oil your barbecue grates and place the artichokes cut side down. Close the lid and grill for about ten minutes. Turn the artichokes and brush the cut side with olive oil, cook, uncut side down, for about thirty minutes. Lower the heat to medium low—the leafy side of the artichoke should blacken. The outside pedals themselves are inedible so it’s alright if they burn slightly, they also shield the artichoke hearts from the flames allowing the interior of the vegetable to cook. If they are getting too black simply cook the artichokes over indirect heat. The artichokes do require about 40 to 45 minutes of cooking time, less for the smaller variety. To check for doneness, pierce artichoke heart with a knife, if it slides in easily, they're ready.

These are best eaten with you hands, starting from the blackened, outside pedals, pull the pedals one at a time and suck on them. Repeat until you reach the heart.

Fig.3. Salt the artichokes and drizzle liberally with a vinaigrette. The vinaigrette used here consists of lots of olive oil, crushed garlic, lemon juice, and a variety of fresh herbs.

Artichokes-The Italian Way

Here are some pictures of artichokes cooking in a bed of smoldering vine branches. A foodie friend from Rome made these on my last trip to Italy. The artichokes are hollowed out and stuffed with garlic leaves, marjoram and a whole lot of olive oil. They are then placed directly into the hot wood and left for about one hour. The outside leaves burn but the inside, with flavours of smoke, oil, garlic, and flowers, is nothing short of sublime. I was told that only vine branches can be used because of their ability to smolder slowly. In wine regions, vine branches are plentiful in the Spring, when vineyards are pruned. I'm going to try it one day soon with lump, hardwood charcoal, I'll keep you posted.

This Little Piggy Went to The Market

{Read my new article in The Warehouse Magazine}

Fig.1. Mr Birri places my lettuce and rosemary in a box. If you're planting a garden (and you should) this is the man to see.

I think it’s safe to assume that winter is behind us. For me, warm weather propels me to the market; if fact, it’s a weekly ritual. I like going on Sunday mornings for many reasons, it’s calmer with less crowds, which gives me a chance to talk to people with greater ease. I’m going to start a new “Market Feature” on this site where I’ll be writing about what’s new at the Jean Talon Market. Twice a month I’ll feature a specific ingredient, product, or purveyor.
If there’s one person in particular I enjoy talking to, it’s Mr Birri from the Birri Brother’s Kiosk. If ever there was a calmer, gentler horticulturalist at the market, I’ve yet to meet him. I ask a lot of questions and Birri’s always gracious with his answers; he’s also a man with a deep knowledge and passion for what he grows. He’s currently stocked with some baby Spanish onions, several potted herbs, as well as a huge variety of leafy greens, many of which you won’t find anywhere else, ready to be planted in your garden. I asked Birri when we should expect some of the vegetable crop to come in, “the first of the local asparagus will arrive in a couple of days, followed by some lettuce.”

For now though, if you intend on starting a vegetable garden, I strongly recommend you go see him, anybody in green overalls will be more than happy to help and answer any questions you might have.

Fig.2. Baby Spanish Onions. Just trim the ends and clean them. When you twirl the pasta the onions will twirl as well. If you can't find these onions, use some chives, green onions, or garlic leaves. The garlic leaves will be out in about two weeks and are incredible in a pasta dish.

Pasta with baby Spanish onions, pancetta, peas and mint.

I remember being in Italy when I was very young, I would watch my father and uncle eat a plate of pasta while simultaneously taking a bite out of an onion. They were sweet, Spring onions, about the size of an apple. This seasonal indulgence was the inspiration for this dish.

Fig.3. A veritable pasta "in bianco". The sauce is made up of the fat from the pancetta, the oil, and the starchy water the pasta cooks in.

Ingredients

500g spaghetti, linguini or fettucini
1/3 cup of pancetta, cubed (you can also use bacon)
3 tbsp olive oil
4 anchovy filets
1 bunch of baby Spanish onions, cleaned and left whole—just remove the end tips. (if you can’t find the onions, you can substitute fresh chives, spring green onions, or garlic leaves. The quantity should vary depending on your penchant for onions.)
3 cloves of garlic, chopped
½ cup of frozen peas
About ten mint leaves

Freshly grated black pepper

Directions:

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Set a large non-stick pan over medium low heat and slowly cook the pancetta until the fat starts to render, making sure it doesn’t get crispy, about 8 to 10 minutes. Place the pancetta in a bowl making sure to leave the fat in the pan, add about 3 tablespoons of olive oil to the pan and set the heat to medium. Add the anchovies and cook until they dissolve, about 2 minutes. Add the onions and cook for about 5 minutes, taking care not to cook them too fast, add the garlic and cook 3 to 5 minutes more. Add the peas, and rip the mint leaves with your hands directly over the pan, add the pancetta back to the pan and cook for an additional 4 to 5 minutes.
At this point your pasta should almost be ready, add 1 ladle full of pasta water to your pan (you should also reserve 1 cup of the pasta water before you drain the pasta), when your pasta is very al dente, drain and add it to your pan. Mix everything together. If the pasta seems dry, add some of the reserved, pasta water. (you can also use chicken or vegetable stock if you wish.) Cook in the pan for another 2 minutes, this final stage will bring everything together by allowing the pasta to further absorb the liquid in the pan. Plate and sprinkle with a little grated cheese and freshly, grated, black pepper.

Fig.3. Harder lettuce, such as this red and frisee variety grow well despite the colder nights. Birri grows these himself in his green house.

Fig.4. Baby Swiss chard. Another Birri original. Unlike regular Swiss chard, this variety can be picked while still small and eaten like a salad, or, if you wish, you can let it grow and cook it.

Marcella and Mamma Agata


Fig.1. Mamma Agata's cookbook.

Wouldn’t it be cool to speak to someone who has cooked for icons such as Humphrey Bogart, Fred Astaire, or Federico Fellini? Can you imagine the stories such a person could tell? Well, such a person exists, and her name is Mamma Agata. Mamma Agata runs a cooking school in Ravello (on the Amalfi Coast), she also has a cookbook filled with her recipes, and filled with stories from her long and fruitful life as a chef. Mamma Agata’s approach to her food is personal, not by choice or conscious awareness, but by habit. Agata’s approach to food parallels that of the millions of domestic mothers and grandmothers in Southern Italy who operate a family farm and eat off of the products from the land: animal, vegetable, fruit and anything in-between. The only difference is that Mamma Agata has taken her domestic knowledge and turned it into a business; this public-private dichotomy approach is a growing trend in Italy, especially within the agriturismos that incorporate cooking classes in their business plan. Mamma Agata personifies that typical, image of the Italian grandmother; her need to feed is written all over her face.
Mamma Agata was brought to my attention by Marcella De Vincenzo; a food writer in her own right and a fellow Italian food advocate, De Vincenzo has a web-site chronicling her culinary quest which entails cooking her way through Mamma Agata’s cookbook, she calls her site, Agata & Me. De Vincenzo is just about done and about to embark on a trip to Italy to meet the woman whose recipes she’s been cooking for the last 84 days. De Vincenzo's web-site is well written and informative, her passion and joy comes through in her writing. She also posts mouth watering pictures of everything she cooks.
Mamma Agata’s cookbook is only available through her web-site, but De Vincenzo was nice enough to send me a recipe. This very simple pasta dish is a perfect example of how incredibly tasty something fast can be, but only when your ingredients are extraordinary, as they are in Italy. So buy the best ingredients you can, and it’s alright if the olives have pits in them, Italians prefer whole olives in their dishes, it proves the olives haven’t been processed in any way. As for the capers, if you can’t find the one’s packed in salt, use the regular brine variety, just rinse them before using.

Spaghetti Del Contadino (Recipe from, Mamma Agata, Simple and Genuine, Italian, Family Recipes)
(Farmer’s Spaghetti)

Serves 4

Fig.2. This simple pasta dish, taken from Mamma Agata's book, is a perfect Spring meal. Just make sure your tomatoes are fresh and ripe.


Ingredients:

400g or 14 oz pasta (spaghetti works best with this dish)
1 kg or 1 ¼ lb ripe cherry tomatoes—the riper the better!
1 Tablespoon of fresh parsley (finely chopped)
6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
4 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon dried oregano
2 dozen green olives (with or without pits)
2 dozen black olives (with or without pits)
1 tablespoon of capers (packed in salt, if available, and rinsed)
1 cup fresh arugula leaves

Directions:

Cut the cherry tomatoes in half and place them in a bowl with the parsley. Note, if the cherry tomatoes are very large you’ll have to cut them into quarters. Parsley is added to the tomatoes before heating them in oil to enhance the flavour of the tomatoes. As the parsley sautés in the hot oil, it will lose some of its flavour. Note, if the parsley burns, it becomes toxic.
Thinly slice the garlic and add it to the room temperature extra-virgin olive oil. Slowly heat the garlic and oil over a very low temperature so that the flavour of the garlic will pass into the oil as it cooks the garlic. When the oil and garlic are warmed and gently cooked, add the halved cherry tomatoes and parsley, oregano, green olives, black olives, and capers to the pan. Cook for five additional minutes. Boil the pasta until it is al dente. Drain the spaghetti and add to the pan with the sauce. Cook for an additional two minutes. Add the arugula leaves to the pasta and sauce just prior to serving so that it does not lose its flavour in the cooking process. Serve hot with a drizzle of olive oil to further enhance the flavours in the dish and enjoy.

Note: Sprinkling grated cheese over your pasta is not the rule in Italy: if there are enough flavours going on in the dish, it doesn’t need cheese. The salty cheese will only hide the other ingredients. Also, notice how Agata adds the garlic to the oil. In many Italian, pasta dishes, oil isn’t solely a cooking medium, it’s also an ingredient. Most pasta recipes written in North America will tell you to add your garlic or onion to a hot pan—and sometimes it’s necessary—but sometimes it’s good to slow down, and, in this case, let the garlic infuse the oil—in essence creating a garlic confit.