Rooftop Gourmet

This past week got me thinking about lobster for a number of reasons. My mother-in-law asked me for a photograph that I took about a year ago for the blog, when I made a Prosciutto-wrapped lobster tail. She wanted to blow it up on a canvas and hang it in her new Cape house. I was flattered by the idea, and even threw my artistic spin on it, changing it to black and white, with the exception of the giant red claw, restrained with a turquoise rubber band; which just so happened to be the color that matched everything else in the kitchen.

I’m very proud of my first photograph hanging as a piece of art in someone’s home  and I plan to deck my kitchen out in tantalizing photos now as well. (If anyone is interested in me blowing up a picture for them, I’m very cheap)! So I started thinking about the Cape, with lobster on my mind and for the past three years that I’ve been visiting my wife’s Cape house in New Seabury, no trip is ever complete without a visit to the Raw Bar.

Since my first encounter with the Raw Bar, I will NEVER order a lobster roll anywhere else in the entire world.

They make hands down the best lobster roll in the history of lobster rolls. As massive as the roll actually is, they keep it as simple as can be. One roll has the equivalent of lobster meat of anywhere from 3 to 4 two pound lobsters.

Yes. That was not a typo. You buy a lobster roll, you eat the meat from roughly four lobsters, gently tossed in a light mayo, and jam-packed into a measly hot dog bun.

The picture that I posted doesn’t even do it justice because I think I ate at least nine claws that were dangling off the top of that mound! If you finish this thing after a long day at the beach, washed down with a couple of beers, it is nap time.

With all of these lobster ideas and cravings running through my head all week, I had to make a lobster dish that was rich and hearty enough for the winter months. I decided on a classic lobster risotto with a saffron base.

I picked up two pounds of fresh lobster meat from the dock at Yankee Lobster (major shortcut) and a few other ingredients from Whole Foods, and in no time my dish would be assembled.

Since risotto is pretty rich and heavy, I decided to make a quick salad to go with it to keep my spirits up regarding my new early morning gym workouts. I wanted some fresh and bright ingredients that were simple and worked well together.

I shaved some fennel bulb, and celery stalks and tossed them with freshly picked parsley and celery leaves, along with some tangerine supremes. When sliced paper thin, the celery and the fennel work amazingly well together, and the oranges are a classic combo for the licorice-flavored fennel.

I drizzled a simple vinaigrette over the top and the abundance of parsley leaves made the whole salad come together.

As for the risotto, I just started off the way any risotto would go; sautéing minced shallots in butter, and then toasting the Arborio rice in the pot. I hit the pot with a good dose of dry white wine as well as glug of Cognac to add some serious richness to this risotto.

After the alcohol burnt off, I started adding my stock which was a combo of chicken stock and fish stock. Ladle by ladle, as it simmers I stood over the steaming pot, stirring constantly. About ten minutes in, I started to add my saffron.

Saffron is the most expensive spice in the world. It’s actually the tiny threads picked from the insides of certain flowers, and it has an extremely unique flavor.

It looks like clown pubic hair but it has remarkable coloring ability and a flavor and aroma that is to die for. It is traditionally used in risotto a la Milanese and in the Spanish staple, Paella. It’s golden hue is absolutely mesmerizing.

I crushed up the burnt orange threads in my palm and dusted them into the pot and almost immediately the color of the risotto went through a Midas-touch makeover.

The texture of the rice was getting softer so I started to add the chopped pieces of succulent lobster to keep them warm. Just before the rice was al dente, I pulled the pot from the burner and tossed in some finishing butter, and a touch of cheese.

Once I impatiently waited a few minutes, I vigorously whipped the risotto with a wooden spoon to achieve the texture that I wanted. A handful of sliced chives and it was complete. I love my risotto with a nice “wavy” characteristic to it. I hate when risotto is so starchy and sticky, that it can be formed into patties.

I want it to be almost, borderline soupy, but with a slight crunch to the grains. I felt that this dish was bold enough to embrace a bottle of red wine, so I picked a fantastic Super Tuscan that I got a great deal on. A Super Tuscan is just a silly term that Italians made up to help market their wine to the American palate.

There are really no rules for Super Tuscans, despite the many rules involved in Italian winemaking. A Super Tuscan is just a term for any wine that is a blend of different grapes grown in Tuscany, that is a de-classified Italian wine.

If it was a classified wine as say a Chianti Classico, it would have to be at least 80% Sangiovese grape grown in the town of Chianti. There are so many laws (I.G.T, D.O.C, D.O.C.G, etc) in Italy classifying wines, but Super Tuscans, are generally a blend of Sangiovese, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah, or any combination of these grapes.

The 2007 Valdisanti is a blend of 70% Cabernet Sauvignon, 20% Sangiovese, and 5% Cabernet Franc. It is am amazingly aromatic wine. It exudes aromas of dried figs, muddled black cherries, smoke, and roasted herbs.

On the palate, it’s big and full-bodied, with dark fruit, earthy undertones, and a finish that gives off a flavor of a sweet Balsamic vinegar reduction.

The wine is so perfect with the complex saffron notes and the rich risotto, with just enough acidity to cut through the creamy rice. Going back and forth between the savory risotto and the fresh salad was a beautiful contrast.

I was so happy thinking about the Cape in the dead of winter, and as we were washing dishes and cleaning up on a full stomach, it started snowing. Immediately my dreams of a Raw Bar lobster roll were put on hiatus for another couple of months. Leftovers will have to do for the time being.

If there was one word that could sum up the evening of December 31, 2011 it would be indulgence.

My wife and I held a dinner party for seven of our closest friends on New Year’s Eve to celebrate the end of what was probably the busiest year of our lives.

When it came to menu planning, I may have gotten a little bit carried away, but as the clock struck midnight, and we all sat at the table, exhausted, clutching our elastic waistbands and simultaneously picking at cheese and coconut cake, it was totally worth the effort. Everyone was happy, thankful, and over-indulged.

There’s something calming and comforting, spending the night with great food, close friends, and delicious wines rather than fighting crowds for cheap Champagne at a bar  or baring the elements in Times Square. Let’s just say that we really ended 2011 with a bang… or was that the sound of someones belt buckle popping off?

Here is a copy of the New Years Eve menu:

First Course:

Assorted Cheeses From Around the World

Foie Gras Mousee’

Marinated Olives

Duck Liver & Black Truffle Terrine

Caviar

Second Course:

Crispy Braised Pork Belly, Carrot Puree’, Pickled Apples

Third Course:

Island Creek Oysters 2 Ways

Classic Baked Rockafeller

Freshly Shucked with Ossetra Caviar, Creme Fraiche’, Tarragon

Fourth Course:

Baked Escargot Gratin; Garlic-Parsley Butter, Warm Baguette

Fifth Course:

Raviolo Uovo

Wild Mushrooms, Thyme-Butter, Parmigiano-Reggiano, White Truffle Oil

Sixth Course:

Sliced Beef Tenderloin with two Sauces;

Classic Bordelaise’ & Creamy Horseradish-Tarragon Sauce

Pommes Puree’, Roasted Butternut Squash & Raw Kale Salad

Seventh Course:

Double Coconut Cake

I get cold sweats just typing that up again! Thankfully, I received a ton of help from some of my favorite vendors and friends. I spent the last week of the year brainstorming, prepping, and and anxiously awaiting our event. Each course represents one of my all-time favorite foods, whether it is in its natural state, prepared classically, or with a new and exciting twist. Thanks to Wasiks Cheese Shop in Wellesley (http://www.wasiks.com/), I had more cheese in my 900 square foot condo than the entire country of Switzerland.

Everything you could possibly imagine, from sharp and nutty Gruyere to oozy gooey, buttery Triple Creme. I also had a pound of Foie Gras Mousse’ that I picked up from the Butcher Shop in the South End. It was so rich but light and airy at the same time.

We spread it like butter on slices of a fresh baguette and let the goose liver melt in our mouths. The texture was like whipped butter and when combined with a few crumbles of the pungent, blue cheese it was heaven in a single bite (That last phrase will most likely become repetitive throughout this whole post). After we grazed the cheese boards, everyone sat down at the table that my wife so wonderfully decorated with white roses and printed menu cards. I brought out the first course which shows off my love for the ever-so versatile pig.

I had braised pieces of fatty pork belly in winter spiced ale, soy and aromatics until it was completely tender, about 3 hours. Right before I served it, I crisped up the outsides of the pork belly in a skillet and served it atop a silky carrot puree. The bright orange color of the puree was a beautiful contrast with the rustic hunk of pig.

For a slight pop of acidity, I used my melon-baller to release little balls of granny smith apples, in which I pickled with cinnamon sticks, and cloves to infuse a wintery spice. It gave the oversized cube of bacon a familiar companion of applesauce and cinnamon aromas and flavors that it’s used to. The juicy belly meat, woven in between layers of succulent fat seemed to dissolve in my mouth. The sweet carrots and sharp pickles were exactly what the belly needed to help balance out the dish.

It was a perfect first bite to lead into an even more extravagant meal. The next course required some serious grunt work. A dinner party set to the theme of indulgence wouldn’t be complete without some fresh oysters. We picked up two dozen of one of my favorite varieties, Island Creek oysters from Duxbury, MA. They always seem to be the perfect size, not too small and not intimidatingly large.

They have striking minerality and freshness with a plump body, and a rather salty finish that I can’t get enough of. With the first dozen, we decided to bake in the classic Rockafeller style. I topped each bivalve with crispy bacon, sautéed spinach, shredded Gruyere cheese, heavy cream, Pernot, and fresh lemon juice. After a few minutes in the broiler, the cheese has melted and the contents of the deep, metallic shell was bubbling away. The rich, creamy and nutty topping had an underlying hint of anise aroma from the evaporated, French liquor.

Trying to shoot them back without making loud, and obnoxious, “mmmmmmm”, sounds was a real feat. In the meantime, I shucked the other dozen and served them on ice with a dollop of creme fraiche, a spoonful of Ossetra caviar, and a sprig of fresh tarragon. In my opinion, this could have been my favorite bite of the evening. It was simple, luxurious, and gratifying; not to mention the balance of flavors really just worked well together. As the last oyster shell was tossed into the garbage, the smell from the next course had already permitted throughout the entire house. I had a baking dish in the oven, littered with baby snails that were all bubbling away in a homemade garlic-parsley butter and topped with breadcrumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

Thankfully, the couples at dinner weren’t on a first date, because this butter was garlicky! We plated this course family-style and all of us dove in with chewy bread to soak up the cheesy butter. The snails were delicate and tender, offering earthy, mushroomy flavors as they swam in the bright green butter.

The oysters and snails course was paired with some Grand Cru Chablis from William Fevre that was crisp and refreshing. Notes of butterscotch, baked apples and puff pastry came off the initial wave of aroma, but the wine was perfectly balanced, clean, and crisp on the finish. Just when everyone thought that the night was dying down, we hit them with the next course which is hands down, one of my favorite pasta dishes I have ever eaten. Thanks to Leigh from Nella Pasta (http://www.nellapasta.com/), this single Raviolo was freaking amazing!

Raviolo Uovo is only one ravioli, filled with a creamy ricotta filling and a fresh egg yolk. Leigh put some serious time and effort into not only making the homemade pasta, but shopping for the highest quality local ingredients. She rolled out the pasta into thin sheets and filled the massive ravioli with a piped, local ricotta mixture that was studded with chopped black truffles. A well was formed in the cheese and she carefully dropped in these gigantic, farm-fresh egg yolks that were so bright and orange that they glimmered through the thin sheet of pasta on top.

Leigh expressed her frustration with the delicacy of the yolks and how they kept popping on her wedding ring, and ended up thrown across the kitchen. Finally, she managed to keep ten ravioli in great shape for the walk over. We gingerly simmered the pasta for a mere minute before sautéing and basting them in a thyme-brown butter sauce. We served the Uovo on a plate with some roasted wild mushrooms and freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, finished with an abnormal dowsing of white truffle oil.

My knees began to buckle while plating due to ingestion of sensual truffle fumes. We all anxiously awaited the”ta-da”,  moment where one of our forks pierced the raviolo, displaying a slow, oozing of the poached egg yolk onto the plate. It was one of the sexiest moments and bites I have ever witnessed in all my days of cooking and eating. We managed to capture the “money-shot” of the fatty yolk swirling on the plate with beads of truffle oil floating atop the surface.

I served this pasta course with a magnum of 2004 Marchesi di Barolo Cannubi Barolo that I had been decanting for over 5 hours. It opened up beautifully and displayed delicate aromas of fresh violets, cherries, and spice. The tannins in the young Nebbiolo cut through the creamy egg yolk and the truffles and Barolo were reunited again. Believe it or not, we were ready for our final savory course of the night… and making good time thanks to our impromptu dishwashers. I had made two different sauces for the beef tenderloin the night before. One was a traditional bordelaise sauce that started off by making one of the most intense beef stocks ever. I roasted pounds and pounds of bones and made a homemade stock for an entire 24 hours, periodically skimming the fat and impurities from the surface.

Then I combined the rich stock with the reduction of two bottles of dry red wine. As the sauce slowly reduced, it thickened and intensified. The other sauce I made was a simple cream sauce with freshly grated horseradish root and sliced tarragon. The balance of spicy and savory was an interesting accompaniment to the tender beef. I simply seared the five-pound roast and rolled in on my cutting board through handfuls of smashed, whole black peppercorns. As it roasted in the oven, it gave us a chance to digest and have a little fun with my new toy that I bought for the evening… a porron!

A porron is a vessel commonly seen in tapas’ bars throughout Spain. It looks like a wine decanter with a spout, and it is filled with wine that eventually gets poured directly into your mouth from very high level. The thin stream gives you just enough time to swallow and allows for pinpoint accuracy when poured from several feet in the air. Here is a video that demonstrates how the porron is used: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bCqCp1ot15A. Needless to say, we managed to keep the wine out of our clothes and our carpet, and my wife was able to take a deep breath. I pulled the roast from the oven at the perfect time, and allowed the juices to redistribute before slicing it into pieces. We served it medium rare with a creamy pommes puree’, both sauces, and a roasted butternut squash and raw kale salad with chopped hazelnuts.

We figured that we needed something fresh and green to serve after all these overly rich dishes. You could cut the tenderloin of beef with a fork it was so tender and juicy. I typically prefer cuts of meat that aren’t as lean, but with the two sauces, the flavor was still booming. For the grand finale, we popped a 3.0 Liter bottle of 2006 Ladera Howell Mountain Cabernet Sauvignon to serve with the beef. For the time it took me to pop the oversized cork on this monster, the wine better be damn good.

It was loaded with powerful blackberry, cherry, and cassis up front, and more developed, richer flavors of vanilla, toasty oak, and creamy coffee on the finish. By this time, we didn’t think anyone would be ready for dessert, but we were wrong. I ordered the double coconut cake from Sportello down the street and when we picked this thing up we didn’t realize that it weighed about twenty pounds. I’m not a big dessert guy, but whenever we eat at Sportello, I have to end the night with a sliver; it’s just that good. The shredded, toasty coconut isn’t just flaked on the outside of the frosting, but baked into each layer of cake as well. We sat around, reminiscing about the meal we just conquered, sipping on Pretty Things, St. Botolph’s Old Town Brown Ale fresh from the keg, and small glasses of 12yr old Pappy Van Winkle Bourbon.

At midnight we popped a few bottles of the 2003 Roderer Estates L’Ermitage Brut and washed back some of the leftover caviar and cheese as if we couldn’t get enough, knowing that 2012 was the start to diets and healthy lifestyles. We lasted long into the night playing silly games, picking at leftovers, and enjoying each others company. I hope that 2012 is filled with even more great food, family and friends. Happy New Year to everyone!

This past Wednesday couldn’t have been a more miserable day in terms of weather. The rain was blowing sideways, it was finally cold enough to wear a coat, and the sky was laden with dark, grey clouds. A perfect day for an adventure! I called the Butcher Shop on a whim and ordered 2 whole rabbits. A typical Wednesday afternoon right? We had dinner plans with my friend and his girlfriend that night and I wanted to put some extra work into preparing a dish that we normally wouldn’t serve.

My friend and I studied abroad in Italy together back in 2004, and I remember ordering a braised rabbit dish in the town of Trastevere, Rome and like I do more than I probably should, tried to force him to take a bite. He’s much more adventurous now and quite frankly he didn’t have a choice; I was making rabbit. I hadn’t actually cooked a rabbit since culinary school, but once I got the little bunny on my cutting board, it was just like riding a bike.

Rabbit is a pretty simple animal to understand. As intimidating as it sounds, visually it’s rather elementary. Just by glancing at it, you know where the hind legs are, you know where the front legs are, and just inside the ribcage is the loin. It’s also an extremely lean animal so there isn’t a lot of work to do in order to find the meat. Since I was cooking the rabbits whole, there was very little butchering to be done.

I removed the heart, kidneys and liver from the cavity and set them aside for bigger and better things; the liver is perfect for finishing my Bolognese sauce to give it a creamy, earthy layer of flavor.

Thankfully, we received the mothership of all Le Crusset pots as a wedding gift because these were not small bunnies and there is no chance that they would fit in the standard dutch oven. Our massive, fire engine-red, 15-quart pot can feed a family of 40 and I’m pretty sure it’s the same size as my wife’s largest suitcase. I actually had to turn on both front and back burners in order to get the entire surface hot enough to sear the bunnies.

I seasoned the rabbit with salt and pepper and sizzled them away in the pot, flipping only once, until both sides developed a dark, golden sear. I then removed the rabbits and set them aside while I built the layers of flavor, starting with the basic aromatics.

A classic mirepoix of carrot, celery and onion hit the pot along with a few smashed garlic cloves. You don’t want to rush this step, because this is where you really create the foundation for your braise.

Let the mirepoix caramelize, harmonize with the crusty rabbit bits stuck to the bottom from the sear, and sweat until completely soft. At this point, I added an entire bottle of dry, white wine and let it reduce until all that was left was about a half cup of liquid.

This burns off the alcohol, deglazes the pot, and concentrates the flavor of the wine. I decided to serve my braised rabbit in a fresh pasta with mushrooms, so in order to enhance and compliment the mushrooms I used a quick mushroom stock in the braise. I use this same technique when making mushroom risotto. I take dried, porcini mushrooms and rehydrate them in scalding hot water.

After about ten minutes the water is dark brown and rich with loads of umami.

I carefully returned the two rabbits to the pot and laid them gently on their side. All I could think of was the Bugs Bunny cartoon from when I was younger, where Elmer Fudd had Bugs in the large cauldron of boiling water. Sure enough, Bugs outsmarted Fudd by ladling the soup onto the hot coals and putting out the fire before he eventually escaped. Thankfully these guys were staying put for a solid 2.5 hours in a 325 degree oven.

I added some chicken stock, the intensified porcini liquid, and a bouquet garni that contained a few sprigs of thyme, rosemary and bay leaf before the lid was sealed and into the oven it went.

While the rabbits were braising away, I had plenty of time to get ready for my guests. I planned on serving a fresh pasta which, despite my ambition with the protein, I didn’t actually make myself.

I bought some fresh linguini from my friends at Nella Pasta, a local company specializing in fresh ingredients grown in neighborhood farms. I also picked up some golden chanterelle mushrooms, which along with morels and truffles are among the highly esteemed fungi in the culinary world. They’re meaty, fruity and woody and when cooked in fat their flavor elevates to a whole new level.

Sticking with a rustic, hunter-style meal, I chose to serve a wine exhibits that same profile. The 2008 Felsina Chianti Classico is one of my favorite producers from the heart of Tuscany.

The bright, young cherry fruit intermingles with earthy, herbaceous notes and there’s a long, dry finish that has a pleasant, wet tobacco characteristic. A simple yet complex Chianti is a perfect match for a bowl of fresh pasta with slow cooked game and mushrooms.

Once the rabbit meat was falling from the bone, I removed them from the pot to cool and this is where the real tedious part of the day started. I strained the braising liquid into a sauce pot and started reducing the rabbit/porcini stock into a sauce.

In the meantime, I hovered over the counter and began picking the tender rabbit meat from the skeleton. Everyone says that rabbit tastes like chicken and I don’t disagree completely. It tastes almost like chicken thighs that are slightly more oily and gamier. Personally, I think that rabbit has more flavor than chicken but to each his own. So it turns out that the two massive rabbits that I picked up about five hours earlier only yielded one quart of pulled meat total. HA!

Our guests arrived and there were no cute little bunnies, no remnants of rabbit, just a tupperware container filled to the brim with succulent braised meat. I opted not to show them the “before” pictures until after dinner was served. I tossed the fresh linguini into boiling water for only a few moments and warmed the rabbit meat in a skillet with some of the reduced braising liquid.

When the pasta was cooked, I added it to the pan along with some fresh thyme and a healthy spoonful of butter. Crank up the heat and the stock and fat emulsifies into a silky rich sauce that coats the pasta, causing it to glisten and causing my guests to start drooling. I finished it with some freshly grated Pecorino Romano cheese for a tangy, nutty kick.

We sat down at the table, lit some candles and listened to the rain crash against the siding of the condo. At that very moment, after a warming and rewarding sip of the elegant Sangiovese, there was a sense of comfort watching the long noodles twirl around the diners’ forks. The flavor of the rabbit with the intense porcini sauce and the melt-in-your mouth texture of the fresh pasta was just what I needed on that dreary day. It turns out that instead of forcing my friend to try a bite of the rabbit, I actually had to force him not to lick his plate at the dinner table.

Introducing the trendy dish of season! Pumpkin Mac & Cheese. It’s literally everywhere these days and every chef, blog, magazine, and cooking show wants to put their own spin on it; and that’s exactly what I did. I have to admit, whoever was the true Pumpkin Mac & Cheese originator was pretty brilliant.

Not only did they take one of the most iconic American, home-cooked dishes, throw in some seasonal flare, and make it unique, but they captured the culinary worlds’ attention and caused a massive, gooey, cheesy, pumpkin-y phenomenon. It’s just plain hard to read the words, “Pumpkin Macaroni & Cheese” and not stop in your tracks. The two things have never gone together before yet both sound so damn good together.

With the artisanal, gourmet mac & cheese craze still booming, and the pumpkin beer obsession on the rise, this combination of flavors, texture and spices is nothing shy of genius. I know that I am not alone when I say that when I first saw a recipe for this, I said to myself, “why the f@*# didn’t I think of that”! Okay… I’m jealous, but my stomach is now extremely full and I am completely satisfied.

I went out to buy two medium sized pumpkins because the ones that we used to decorate our front doorstep got smashed. Surprise… welcome to city living.

All I did was slice them into six equal parts, removed the seeds and guts, and roast them at 400 degrees until they were completely tender. I threw the bright orange, steamy flesh into the food processor and pulsed away until I was left with my homemade pumpkin puree.

If you’re too lazy to do this, just grab a few cans from the grocery store, and if you’re really lazy, just ask someone else to open the cans for you. I promise you that the “from scratch” method produces a much tastier and healthier pumpkin flavor.

For my macaroni and cheese, (which wasn’t really macaroni at all) I used an orecchiette pasta which in Italian means “little ears”. Every time I cook with orecchiette I can’t help myself from grabbing one of the baby ears and re-creating my favorite scene from Reservoir Dogs , screaming into the little dried pasta, “Hey… what’s goin on? Can you hear that”?

As the pasta water was coming to a boil, I diced up some applewood-smoked ham to give the macaroni & cheese some extra flavor.

I started to make a roux, which is equal parts butter and flour, whisked together in order to thicken my cheese sauce. I essentially made a pumpkin Mornay sauce which is a classic French Bechemel with the addition of shredded cheese, and of course pumpkin puree.

I specifically chose four different cheeses for flavor, balance, and texture. I used a classic Gruyere because of its impeccable melting quality and nutty flavor. I used a bright orange Vermont Cheddar for its color, and its sharp flavor. I used a smoked Mozzarella for the intense smoky flavor which I thought would work nicely with the pumpkin and the autumn spices, and lastly a creamy, fresh goat cheese for a tart punch.

All of the cheeses were slowly whisked into the Bechemel creating a thick, ultra-rich, cheesy euphoria. I finished the sauce with some minced sage, nutmeg, cinnamon, salt and pepper.

I had a hard time keeping my fingers and utensils out of the sauce and trust me… it didn’t suck.

I poured the sauce all over the top of the al dente pasta and stirred it around with the smoked ham. It got spooned into individual and group-sized ramekins and then covered with homemade breadcrumbs.

I took some old bread, and pulverized it in the food processor with fresh sage and some nutmeg. A little melted butter brought the crumbs together into a golden, aromatic crust for the mac & cheese. Roughly thirty minutes in the oven, and the breadcrumbs were toasty and the cheese sauce was bubbling away.

I served this American classic with arguably one of the most exciting and popular grape varietals of the times; Argentinian Malbec. The 2010 Altos las Hormigas Malbec comes from Mendoza Argentina. In 1995 Alberto Antonini, a well-known Italian winemaker took a trip to visit the major viticultural areas of Argentina. He returned powerfully impressed by the potential of Malbec in the Mendoza region. Later that year he purchased 216 hectares of vineyards and Altos las Hormigas was born.

The project has turned into a huge success and his Malbecs are some of the best in South America. This one is a deep violet, purple color and rich with peppery spices. The wine is full-bodied and marries well with the “pumpkin” spices of the dish and the sweet pumpkin flavor in the pasta.

The bold wine has notes of mocha and coconut in the finish and is actually equally as rich as the cheesy pasta. The crunchy breadcrumbs add a contrast in texture and buttery flavor to the velvety orecchiette. I love how present the actual pumpkin flavor was in the dish and how well the smoky cheese and ham complimented the cinnamon and nutmeg.

As I expected from the very beginning, the person who came up with this idea is brilliant and should be awarded for his or her ingenuity and creativity. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Living in Southie during a blizzard is hard work. Racing home to find a parking spot on your street, waking up early to shovel out your spot, and then finding something large enough to save it is exhausting. Thankfully, our twelve inches fell on my day off from work so I had all morning to bundle up and get shoveling.

After two hours, two cars, and the entire sidewalk was clean, Siobhan and I felt like we could reward ourselves. We heard about a new market that opened up down the hill from our condo called American Provisions, so we decided to walk down and check it out.

I didn’t get my hopes up because as of now, South Boston is a culinary disaster. It’s hard to find an onion without a hole in it, or a glass of wine that wasn’t poured from a box. As we sloshed down East Broadway, we saw the new market on the corner and my eyes lit up when the Open sign was visible in the window. We were greeted by the two owners and started to look around the place. My initial reaction was, “Oh my God, I must be dreaming!”. I thought my neck was sore from shoveling, but it turned out to be the whiplash from frantically picking up different products and bending down to read what farms the local cheeses came from. This was a dream come true and exactly what South Boston needed!

They had everything from specialty coffee beans to venison sausage with blueberries. The most impressive was the nucleus of the store, a large glass case, containing over fifty gourmet cheeses and charcuterie, with the focus on the ones made at local farms.

They also had fresh pasta, an antique locker filled with a myriad of dried spices, individually Cryo-vac-ed steaks and chops, wicker baskets piled high with dirty fingerling potatoes just plucked from a local farm, and an awesome selection of oils and vinegars.

After scoping out the scene and chatting with the owners, we left with some Fettucini, a carton of farm fresh eggs, a few thick slabs of locally-cured Pancetta, and some grated Pecorino-Romano.

Siobhan had trouble getting me out the door, but somehow we managed to make the trek back up the hill. Now she knows what I feel like when I get roped into going clothes shopping with her.

Carbonara is a classic Italian pasta dish that Siobhan and I both seek out as our guilty pleasure. We figured we could put the wedding diet on hold for one night after shoveling and stomping through a foot of snow for our dinner. After we peeled our slushy clothes from our bodies, I got the spice grinder out and started grinding some fresh black peppercorns; one of the four key ingredients to this simple dish.

I then unwrapped the American Pancetta and cut the thick, slices into long matchsticks before gently sauteeing them. I like when my Carbonara has big chunks of crispy Pancetta tangled in the creamy, web of pasta.

 I salted my deep pot of boiling water and cooked the Fettucini al dente, before tossing it into the pan of crispy Pancetta. Then I sprinkled a handful of crushed, black peppercorns into the pan which stuck to the pasta as it was being coated in the savory pork fat.

I remove the pan from the heat and rapidly stir in two egg yolks and one whole egg. The key is to make sure that your pan isn’t too hot (because you’ll be left with scrambled eggs) and you keep stirring constantly. A handful of freshly grated cheese and the dish is complete. The raw eggs barely cook, ever so gently from the residual heat of the pasta and form a silky, rich sauce.

In every bite, you taste the decadent yolks, speckled with fiery peppercorns and the sharp, pungent Pecorino cheese. Then, out of nowhere, a tiny morsel of crispy pork fat pops in your teeth and explodes with flavor. I think the reason I love this dish so much is because when I was younger, I’d always pierce my fried egg yolks with a strip of crispy bacon. The flavor is very similar. Another great quality of this dish is that it is extremely versatile when it comes to wine pairing. The only thing it really needs is alot of acidity because of how creamy and rich it is. I chose a Sicilian red called Case Ibidini Nero d’Avola which is a rather casual Italian red wine.

It’s aged for six months in stainless steel which gives it a complex freshness without any traces of oak. It’s light, ruby red in color and has a nose that smells like muddled cherries with herbs. On the palate, it’s impeccably smooth and light. It is very reminiscent of a Pinot Noir from Oregon or even a Beaujolais because of the vibrant, ripe fruit and soft tannins. The lovely acidic finish helps cut through the fat in the yolks and cheese. It might even taste better next time with a slight chill before popping the cork.

It is amazing how much better a simple dish tastes when the ingredients are fresh and you know exactly where they came from. Thankfully, American Provisions is the new guy in town who will take care of locating fresh ingredients from local farms and bringing them to our kitchen tables.