Ingredient Spotlight - Ricotta Salata

Most people are familiar with ricotta cheese.  Used to stuff pasta and cannoli, ricotta is made from whey left over after cheese production.  When ricotta cheese is pressed, salted, and aged, it becomes ricotta salata.

Ricotta salata is similar in texture to feta, but it is milder and much less salty.  Traditionally used in shaved or grated form to add a finishing touch to dishes, its fresh, milky flavor is a pleasant addition to any salad containing tomato, cucumber, or cold, cooked grains.  Ricotta salata can also be used as a lighter, less pronounced substitute for parmesan or pecorino when finishing a risotto or a simple pasta dish. 

If you are not fortunate enough to live in a city with a large Italian population, ricotta salata may be difficult to locate, as it is not a common or mass-produced variety.  Italian markets, specialty shops and better supermarkets are good sources, but if you cannot find ricotta salata, it can be purchased online.  If you can get your hands on this cheese, do try it in the recipe below!


Spaghetti with Fresh Tomatoes, Green Onions, and Ricotta Salata

1 lb. spaghetti or linguine
splash olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 pounds fresh tomatoes, diced
1/2 cup dry white wine
4 green onions, sliced into rings
salt and pepper to taste
ricotta salata*

Cook the pasta.  In the meantime, heat the olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pan over medium heat.  Add the garlic and cook until the garlic becomes fragrant, approximately 3-5 minutes.  Do not let the garlic burn.

Add the tomatoes and the wine.  Cook for 10-15 minutes, stirring occasionally until the liquid has reduced and the tomatoes begin to break down. 

Add the sliced green onions, salt, and pepper.  Cook for about five minutes, or until the onions' flavor has mellowed a bit.  Do not let them become soft and mushy. 

Drain the cooked spaghetti and dress it with a splash of olive oil.  Divide the cooked pasta among plates, and spoon the sauce over the hot pasta.  Using a vegetable peeler, shave your desired amount of ricotta salata over each individual bowl. 

* If you cannot find ricotta salata, it can be purchased online.

Ingredient Spotlight - Ghost Peppers

"Would you like an atomic pepper, Mr. Mentolino?"

Remember that scene in "Dumb & Dumber?"  I'm pretty sure the atomic peppers consumed by the movie's two lovable losers were bhut jolokia, better known as 'ghost peppers.'  Native to India, these fiery fruits set a record in the Guinness Book of World Records in 2007 for being world's hottest pepper.  At 1,041,427 heat units, ghost peppers are approximately 400 times hotter than tabasco sauce on the Scoville scale, which measures a chili's heat based on how much sugar water is needed to neutralize its heat.  To put into perspective just how hot ghost peppers really are, consider that habaneros register 100,000 - 350,000 heat units, while law-enforcement grade pepper spray falls in the 500,000 - 5,000,000 heat unit range.  Rumor has it that biting into a ghost pepper can trigger a heart attack, but according to web sources, it isn't the heat of the pepper that could kill you, it's the potential that the concentration of capsaicin could cause anaphylaxis in some individuals and lead to suffocation. 

That was small comfort as I paid for a 50g carton of ghost peppers at Savenor's Market on Beacon Hill.  Operation "Woman vs. Food" had officially commenced. 

With a tall glass of sugared milk by my side, wearing my large-lensed sunglasses to protect my eyes in case any bits of chili went flying, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation, I pierced a ghost pepper's thick, slightly tough flesh with the blade of my paring knife, then held the cold metal blade against my tongue.  "That's not so bad," I thought.  The pepper tasted bright, almost citrusy, whereas I did not expect to be able to experience any discernible flavor through the fire.  That's when I learned why they're called ghost peppers - boy, do these babies sneak up on you!  The heat hit, but it didn't deliver a burn so much as a tingle.  The heat resonated throughout my mouth, spreading from the point of contact where I'd licked the blade of my knife, and a slight sting crept across my lips.  I sipped some sugared milk to snuff out the heat, then decided I should to try the ghost pepper again, only for real this time.  I sliced off a piece of pepper about the size of a grain of risotto rice, placed it on my tongue, bit into it, and sloshed it around in my mouth, letting the fire spread.

These peppers make "Dave's Insanity" look like "Dave's mild, completely manageable neuroses." 

The ghost pepper's effect was not nearly as devastating as I imagined - after all, I'd pictured myself screaming and scrambling for ketchup and mustard bottles, just like Harry and Lloyd in Dumb & Dumber - but keep in mind that I only consumed a minuscule amount.  If you can get your hands on ghost peppers, try them if you dare, even if only to satisfy your curiosity.

Not knowing if I could handle the heat if I chopped them and added them directly to a dish, I decided to use my ghost peppers to make a batch of hot pepper oil.  With the kind of heat ghost peppers pack, only a few drops will add a spicy kick to any food! 

Ghost Pepper Oil

2 ghost peppers, quartered*

2 cups olive oil

Add the peppers and the oil to a clean, resealable glass bottle.  Shake and allow to sit for 24 hours.  Use sparingly, adding drop-by-drop to any dish that could use some heat.  Great for bloody marys! 

* Be very careful when working with chiles.  If possible, wear gloves, and do not let the chiles, or anything the chiles have touched, come into contact with your eyes.

Stock Tips?

Dear Readers,

I am in the midst of an awful creative slump right now.  I've taken a few mini-vacations, I've got another vaca on deck this weekend, I've been slammed at work, and I haven't had any creativity, energy, or motivation to write for days.  I've cooked up a few things here and there, but I've been unable to turn the few actual dishes I've cooked into words. 

I promise I will be back with new recipes, new photos, and new stories.  Until then, you might want to buy stock in Maruchan Ramen, Kashi cereal, and Whole Foods. 

Happy Birthday, Bacon, Butter & Booze!

It's Baconbutterbooze.com's birthday - my baby is one year old today! 

365 days ago, I decided to start a food blog.  I sat down on the floor in front of my coffee table with a blank sheet of paper and a pen and jotted down a few thoughts and ideas.  I never had any intention that this would go from a fun hobby to my life's purpose.  I never thought writing posts or hunting down ingredients or studying endless variations of risotto recipes would be things that I'd place on my daily to-do lists. 

(to read where it all began, click here)

In the past year, I've learned how to shuck oysters and subsequently developed an addiction that could cause Dr. Drew to shake his head and groan.  I've gone from texting "Hey Ma, did you read that blog I started?" to a readership spanning 75 countries.  Last summer, I dreaded meeting new people because of the inevitable "So what do you do?" question, but today I proudly hand out Baconbutterbooze.com business cards.  I've tried tripe, sea urchin, salmon roe, bubble tea, pigs' feet, aji sauce, sweetbreads, lychees, wild boar, longans, rabbit, cardamaro, thai eggplant, cactus pads, razor clams, shad roe, tamarind, soft-shell crabs, skate wings, purple potatoes, and many, many new wines.  Last, but not least, I've figured out what I really want out of life - to learn, to create, and to inspire.  Going through life without doing at least one of those three things every day is not living; it is merely existing.

In the span of  8,760 hours, I've come a long way as a cook, as a writer, and as a human being.  Sure, food is necessary for everyone's survival, but food isn't simply a physiological necessity to me; it's a part of who I am.  To take away my ability to cook and share what I've learned and/or created would produce the same end result as cutting off my oxygen supply, my limbs, or my brain function.  Denying me access to a kitchen is no different than denying a drowning man a life vest. 

These days, it seems that everyone with a few pots and pans and a laptop has his or her own food blog.  I don't know if mine stands out at all; I don't know if my writing inspires anyone or if any of my readers have had any great revelations from reading Bacon, Butter & Booze; I don't know if this will ever be anything more than a hobby or a way of convincing myself that I have some sort of higher purpose beyond showing up at my office every day and making money for other people.  That all remains to be seen.  What I do know is that I've had a hell of a year, I'm having a great time cooking, writing, and sharing, and I have no intention of ever slowing down. 

On that note, I must give credit where credit's due and thank everyone who has contributed to this achievement in one way or another.  A gazillion grazie's to:

• My mom, who undoubtedly consumed great food while I was a fetus and probably turned me into a foodie before I even popped out.  Ma, I can't thank you enough.  Nobody has had a greater influence on me in the kitchen, and nobody's tomato sauce will ever top yours.
• All my readers.  Knowing that I'm not writing this stuff in a vacuum keeps me going every day.  As long as you keep reading, I'll keep writing and keep cooking.  Stay curious, my friends!
• Google, for hosting my site and making publishing and advertising so easy.
• The famous foodies whom I admire - Lidia Bastianich, Anthony Bourdain, Gordon Ramsay, Mario Batali, Martha Stewart, Fabio Viviani, Jeff Smith, Ken Oringer, Paul Bartolotta, and many more - you've all been able to turn your dreams into dollars, and I hope to enter your echelon someday.  I admire all of you.
• The food shops and restaurants in Boston and beyond that have kept my fridge stocked and my palate inspired, namely Liz and Keri at Mercato del Mare, The Wine Bottega, Salumeria Italiana, Polcari's Coffee, DiPaolo & Rossi, Savenor's Market, Whole Foods Symphony, Harvest Co-Op, Seaport Fish, Golden Harvest, Enoteca Italiana, Estragon, Umbria Prime, Posto, Morton's Steakhouse, Ristorante Fiore, Tico, Florentine Cafe, KO Prime, and many more.  You're the best of the best, and I'm proud to support all of you.

Although I'm proud of what I've accomplished in the past year, I know that I still have billions of recipes to conquer, and I still have much to learn.  Tonight, when I'm out in my highest heels celebrating with a few of my closest friends, I'll drink to what I've done, but when I raise my glass of champagne, I'm toasting to what I'm going to do in the next 365 days - stay tuned!   

Pepper-Crusted Steak with Strawberry Pesto

Strawberry shortcake?  Yum.  Strawberry jam?  OK.  Strawberry pesto?  ...?  Just trust me.

No need to chase me down and throw me in a straight jacket, this is one of my crazy ideas that just happened to work. 

My food inspiration most often comes in one of these three forms:  1) reading cookbooks or watching TV cooking programs and imagining how I would have cooked a dish; 2) tasting an unfamiliar ingredient or dish and brainstorming how I could cook it myself; and 3) looking in my fridge at all the random odds and ends and trying to determine what I could toss in a pan together that would turn into something semi-edible.

The third form of inspiration is how I came up with the idea for strawberry pesto.  Because me and my black thumb have not once been able to keep a basil plant alive, I'm forced to buy basil in large bunches from grocery stores and farmers' markets, even when I need only three or four leaves.  The leftovers usually go into pesto.  However, I had a few past-their-prime strawberries.  They weren't moldy or anything, but they were no longer shiny and firm.  I thought to myself, "Hmm...I've seen strawberry granita with a hint of basil; so why don't I try basil with a hint of strawberry?"  A few pulses in the blender, and I had a great summery sauce for a perfectly cooked pepper-crusted steak.  The strawberry pesto also makes an excellent dressing for cold whole-wheat pasta! 


Strawberry Pesto

2 large, or 4 small, slightly overripe strawberries, sliced
3 cups tightly-packed shredded basil
2 large garlic cloves, chopped
1 t. kosher salt
olive oil

Combine the strawberries, basil, garlic, and salt in a blender.  Add a splash of olive oil and pulse a few times until blended.  Continue adding a slow stream of olive oil until the pesto has reached a smooth consistency. 


Pepper-Crusted Steaks with Strawberry Pesto

4 steaks, 1.5" thick, brought to room temperature
2 T. cracked peppercorns
kosher salt

Heat a heavy-bottomed frying pan, preferably cast-iron, over high heat.  While the pan is heating, combine the cracked peppercorns with a few pinches of kosher salt on a plate.  Press both sides of each steak into the peppercorn blend. 

Once the steaks are seasoned, check to see if your pan is ready.  It is ready when a drop of water beads up and dances across the pan's cooking surface rather than staying put and sizzling. 

Once the pan is ready, add a few pinches of kosher salt to the pan, then add the steaks.  Sear them 2-3 minutes per side, using tongs to turn them over. 

Remove the steaks from the pan.  Set them aside and let them rest for 5-7 minutes.  It is very important that you do not touch the steaks while they rest; this step distributes the juices, and cutting into the steak too early results in lost flavor. 

Once the steaks have rested, place them on plates and decoratively spoon the strawberry pesto onto the plates.