Scoglio all'Andiamo (Saffron Fettuccine with Seafood in a Lemon Garlic White Wine Sauce)

Last year I was lucky enough to win two nights at a Marriott resort of my choosing in the Caribbean through an Instagram contest.  At first I considered going to St. Kitts & Nevis since I had never been before, but the airfare was outrageous, so I ended up choosing to go back to Grand Cayman.  I used my points to stay an extra two nights at the Ritz Carlton and brought along two girlfriends. 

I was sad to find out that the Periwinkle restaurant at the Ritz was gone because I had the best truffle fries of my life there a few years ago, but when I found out that the Italian restaurant that had replaced it, Andiamo, had the truffle parmesan fries on their menu, I insisted that we go there for our last dinner on the island.

The fries were as good--if not better--than I remember them being, but I was also really impressed with their version of pasta allo scoglio, also known as pasta ai frutti di mare.  Scoglio means "rocky seashore" in Italian, and all types of seafood can be used in this dish.  Shrimp and mussels were on sale, so that's what I used, but clams, scallops, and calamari would also work.

Unlike most recipes for pasta allo scoglio, there were no tomatoes in Andiamo's version; all I tasted was a clean white wine sauce with garlic and lemons spiked with the delicious juices from the clams and mussels.  The sauce was so good we asked for another basket of bread just so we could soak it all up.  The pasta they used was a saffron fettuccine, which I attempted to make from scratch.  Since I didn't have any saffron on hand, I added some saffron salt to the fresh pasta dough and finished the dish with more saffron salt.  If I were to make this again, I'd probably add a pinch of turmeric to the pasta dough to bring out the bright yellow coloring more.

Scoglio all'Andiamo (Saffron Fettuccine with Seafood in a Lemon Garlic White Wine Sauce)
serves 2-3

1/4 cup butter
2 garlic cloves, minced
2/3 cup dry white wine
1 lb. mussels and/or clams
1 lb. peeled raw shrimp and/or scallops
1/2 lb. dried fettuccine or 3/4 lb. fresh fettuccine
Juice from 1/2 a lemon
1 tablespoon chopped parsley (optional)
Saffron salt (if you have it, if not, regular sea salt is fine)
Freshly ground pepper
Lemon slices

Bring a pot of salted water to boil.  Cook the fettuccine to al dente (if using fresh pasta, wait until the after adding the shrimp to the pan to start cooking the pasta).

In the meantime, melt the butter over medium-low heat in a large skillet.  Add the garlic cloves and saute for a minute.  Add the white wine and the mussels and/or clams.  Cover and let steam until the shellfish have opened.  Use a slotted spoon to remove the shellfish from the skillet and set aside in a bowl.

Add the shrimp and/or scallops and cook until just opaque.  Add the cooked pasta, lemon juice, parsley, and shellfish back to the skillet and toss well.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.  Serve immediately with lemon slices and crusty bread to soak up any leftover sauce.

Next:  Taiwanese Oyster Omelet (Without the Oysters)
Previously:  Gordon Ramsay's Sublime Scrambled Eggs - Two Ways
Last Year:  Candied Bacon Chocolate Chip Pancakes
Five Years Ago:  Passion Fruit Ice Cream
Six Years Ago:  Carrot Cake Ice Cream

Cranberry-Port Gelée

It's probably been a good 10 years since I went home to my parents' place for Thanksgiving.  I usually spend the holiday with friends instead and love having them over for a potluck style meal.  One of our friends, let's call him Jerry, is not the most kitchen savvy, so a few years ago I assigned him the task of bringing the cranberry sauce.  Specifically, one can of cranberry sauce.  Instead of obeying my instructions, he brought two cans and promised to finish it all because he loves cranberry sauce.  Guess what:  he didn't finish it all.  In fact, he didn't even finish the first can.  But since he loves cranberry sauce, he took home the opened can to finish on his own.

Fast forward one year to when it was his turn to host Thanksgiving.  This is when we found out, to our horror, that he still had the opened can of cranberry sauce sitting in his fridge.  From a year ago.  And he thought it would be okay to serve it to us.  *shivers*

Sadly, Jerry can't join us this year for Thanksgiving, so I figured it was high time to try making cranberry sauce from scratch.  I wanted something similar to the familiar canned version but a little classier and distinctly homemade.  Enter Food52's Genius Recipe for Canal House's Cranberry-Port Gelée.  I adapted the original recipe by adding a bit of orange juice and substituting cloves for the juniper berries.  You could also use rosemary if you want the juniper berry woodsiness or a cinnamon stick and star anise for more warmth.

Cranberry-Port Gelée (adapted from Food52)
makes about 2 cups

3/4 cup port (or red wine or Madeira)
1/4 cup fresh orange juice
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon cloves
10 black peppercorns
12-oz bag fresh cranberries

Put the port, sugar, cloves, and peppercorns into a heavy saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.
  
Add the cranberries and return to a boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer until the cranberries burst and are very soft, about 10 minutes more.  Using a large spoon to mash the cranberries a bit so it is easier to strain in the next step.
   
Strain the sauce into a bowl through a fine-mesh sieve, pushing the solids against the screen with the spoon. Stir the thin and thick portions of the strained gelée together.
   
Transfer to a pretty serving bowl or jar.  Cover and refrigerate. It will firm up within a few hours, or can be made several days ahead.

Since I'm hosting Thanksgiving this year, I'll be serving this along with a spatchcocked turkey and also making my corn souffle and a sweet potato casserole.  Others are bringing the salad, mashed potatoes, green beans, and pie.  What will you be having for Thanksgiving?

p.s.  The reason for the sub-par pictures above is because instead of making the cranberry sauce and taking pictures of it when the sun was still out, I made a last minute decision to go hiking with some friends in the Middlesex Fells since it was probably going to be one of the last nice days of 2014.  While the pics above rather flat and uninteresting, it was worth it to spend time with good friends and to get this shot:

Next:  Jeni's Crème Sans Lait (Dairy-Free Ice Cream)
Previously:  Sriracha Popcorn
Last Year:  My Mom's Pi Jiu Ya (Beer Braised Duck)
Two Years Ago:  Pretzel Ice Cream Pie with Homemade Magic Shell
Fives Years Ago:  Nanaimo Bars

Red Wine and Pear Sorbet

I made this a while ago before this blog was born and really liked it so when my stash of pears from Boston Organics started building up, I thought it was high time to make this again. The original recipe from Martha Stewart has directions for how to make this without an ice cream maker, but seeing as how I have one, it seemed silly not to use it.

Red Wine and Pear Sorbet (adapted from Everyday Food)
makes about 1 quart

1 cup dry red wine

3/4 cup sugar

1 pound ripe pears, peeled, cored, and cut into 1-inch pieces (2 cups)

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

Coarse salt

In a medium saucepan, bring wine, 1 1/4 cups water, and sugar to a boil over medium heat, stirring often, until sugar dissolves. Add pears; reduce heat, and simmer until tender.

Stir in lemon juice and a pinch of salt; cool completely. Transfer to a blender or use an immersion blender to puree the mixture. Chill thoroughly in the refrigerator for several hours or overnight.

Once chilled, churn in your ice cream machine according to the manufacturer's directions. Transfer to a container, cover, and freeze overnight or for several hours to harden.

Although the original recipe said it would only take 5-10 minutes, I ended up having to cook the pears for over 20 minutes before they were tender. This may have been because I used one Bartlett pear and one green pear instead of just Bartlett pears like the original recipe said. Because I was cooking the mixture for that long, I figured I would have boiled off most of the alcohol, but there was still enough left to make this a pretty soft sorbet. It's also kind of gritty in the way that pears are naturally gritty. Not a bad thing, but if you don't like the texture of pears, you might want to pass on this recipe. But if you like poached pears, you definitely need to try this out. It tastes elegant and sophisticated, like something that should be served in a goblet vs. a normal dessert bowl. I would totally serve this as a palate cleanser or at the end of a heavy dinner of say, steak.