Posts tagged ‘pancetta’

It’s back to the freezer for another edition of Well-Stocked, and this time, I promise I won’t make you blend anything—just pre-slice for wholesome, salty meatiness any time you need it.

While most of us have frozen steaks, chops, burgers, and other cuts of meat for future use, it’s a life-saver to have a stash of sliced pancetta in the coldbox too. Not just smoky bacon (which I also keep on hand), but specifically pancetta—the ingredient that makes the magic happen for dishes as diverse as the world’s greatest spaghetti carbonara (seriously, I am going to get that trademarked), roasted brussels sprouts, and even seared scallops.

Corrado’s, my local Italian supermercato, stocks these vacuum-packed cylinders of good Jersey-made pancetta. At home, I slice the rolls into 1/2-inch rounds and then stack each slice between layers of waxed paper before wrapping the whole bundle in foil to freeze. Each slice is about 2 oz. by weight, so when I need pancetta for a recipe, it’s automatically portioned.
>> Why would you freeze pancetta instead of keeping it in the fridge? Read on. >>

Today, please enjoy another good food story by our Canadian correspondent, Lara O’Brien. In the coming weeks, look for Lara’s recommendations on where to eat during the Toronto Film Festival.

This dish can be found on most coastlines in Italy, but the first and the best one I’ve tried was in Positano, on the Amalfi coast.

I have a love/hate relationship with Positano. In the summer it is overrun with tourists, overpriced and anything but charming. But off-season it shines as a true fishing village.  I first visited Positano on a road trip with two of my closest friends, from Naples to the town of Tropea in Calabria, a sort of week long food and wine extravaganza. (Wine seemed to have won out near the end.)

Southern Italy in March is all but abandoned. Our first night we decided to stay in the small but famous and fashionable town of Positano. We checked into one of the only pensione that was open and became somewhat of a curiosity as we strolled through the labyrinth of streets. The sea air, along with the adrenaline high from driving the plunging Amalfi coastal road, had made us ravenous. 

We walked down to the beach where only one restaurant was open. Situated right on the water’s edge, we had a clear view of the blue and white fishing boats bobbing in the sea. The restaurant was all but empty and we asked for a table outside (it was about 15˚C …that’s 60˚ Farenheit for all you Americans). We, being Canadians, thought it was pleasantly warm. The waiters in their down jackets thought we were nuts. We all opted for the Spaghetti alla Vongole, after assurances from several waitstaff that the clams had been caught that day from said fishing boats bobbing ten meters away. I’m guessing the dish was the fastest to make (which it is) and the chef wanted the hell out of there.

The dish was yummy and briny and within minutes we were a hit with the local gatti.

Although not completely traditional, I use a little pancetta—it adds great depth to the dish. Here’s how I do it in my kitchen:

Spaghetti alla Vongole
4 primi piatti

• 1 1/2 pounds of scrubbed littleneck clams
• 1 shallot, finely chopped
• 2 cloves of garlic, minced
• 3 tbsp diced pancetta
• 1 tsp pepperoncino
• 1 cup dry white wine (I prefer an Orvieto; it’s light and neutral)
• A squeeze of lemon
• Half a packet of spaghetti
• A large bunch of chopped parsley

Get a large pot of salted water on for the pasta. In a heavy bottom sauté pan that has a tight lid, begin by sautéing the pancetta and pepperoncino over medium heat with some olive oil. When the pancetta is crispy, add the shallot and sauté until soft. Add the garlic and sauté for another minute.

Toss in the clams, white wine, and the squeeze of lemon and cover with a tight lid. The clams should open up in about 6-8 minutes. Discard any clams that have not opened. There should be enough liquid from the clams themselves and the white wine for the sauce, but you can add a touch of pasta water or a little more white wine if you need more liquid. Toss the cooked spaghetti into the pan with parsley and serve.

No cheese is traditional, but believe it or not they did offer it to us in Positano (Cheese = Canadian?). We declined.

Friends, I can’t believe I’m giving away this secret. This is my bad-day-at-work comfort food staple that is so simple, it’s pretty much a ratio in and of itself, yet it impresses everyone I serve it to. Make it for one when you’re needing a pick-me-up, make it for two when you want to thank your husband for tiling the basement steps without your help, make it for four when you want to thank your husband, your dad-in-law, and your uncle-in-law for rewiring the basement and foyer lighting without your help. Everyone wins with this one.
>> Read on to get the carbonara recipe >>