Broccoli Rabe with Sausage and Orrechiette

These "little ears" don't do any listening at all . . . they just sit quietly and lap up all the spice of the sausage and the gentle bite of the broccoli rabe in this dish.  The way that Italians named pasta is so intriguing, isn't it?  Orecchiettte is such a pretty sounding word.  (One of these days, I'm going to buy Rosetta Stone and learn Italian; I'll have to if I'm ever going to get there.)

Even though the word means "little ears," to me they kind of look like the helmets American  soldiers wore in World War I.  (I have World War I on the brain, because I'm getting ready to teach "All Quiet on the Western Front" to high school sophomores.  Did I hear you say, "Good luck with that."?)

Whatever they're called, or whatever they look like, they are the perfect vehicle for this cargo of sausage and greens.  A shake of crushed red pepper, a bit of Parmesan cheese and dinner's ready.   Whenever I find this pasta, I sock it away in the pantry.  And whenever I find broccoli rabe (sometimes called rapini) at the market, I buy it -- and I make this.  Fresh and fast for a weeknight meal.

There are a lot of ways to prepare this dish, which is pretty traditional.  I prefer to dunk the rabe in a pot of boiling salted water and then shocking it in ice water.  A bit of hassle that's worth it.  (Thanks for teaching me that, Lynn.)

Make this orecchiette and listen for the kudos

Orecchiette with Broccoli Rabe and Sausage
Serves 4 to 6

2 tablespoons salt
2 bunches broccoli rabe (about 1 pound)
8 ounces orrecchiette
1 pound sweet or hot Italian sausage
2 ounces shredded Parmesan cheese
crushed red pepper

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add the broccoli rabe.  Cook the greens briefly, just a minute or two.  Remove with tongs to a large container filled with ice water. Swish around for a minute or two and remove to a colander.  Chop into about two inch pieces.

Bring the same water to a oil and add the pasta.  Cook for about 8 minutes and drain, but reserve some of the pasta water.

Brown the sausage in a large skillet over medium high heat, breaking it up as you go.  Reduce the heat and add the broccoli rabe and saute together for a minute.  Add the pasta and combine.  Add pasta water, if needed.  Stir in the cheese, sprinkle with the pepper and serve.

One Sexy Vegetable: Broccoli Rabe

Maybe “sexy” is too strong to describe any vegetable, but I loved the way Aida Mollenkamp described broccoli rabe: “ . . . think of it as a sexier alternative to broccoli – darker and a little bitter.” Really, though, all that broccoli and broccoli rabe have in common is the name.

Broccoli is a crucifer and broccoli rabe is one of those leafy greens that we get so many healthy brownie points for eating. And the rabe has a lot of different names; the most common nom de plum is rapini. Call it what you like, it’s great. It does take a bit of minor effort to prepare well: It is bitter, like most greens, and a quick blanching is all it needs to take that pungency away.

I was introduced to broccoli rabe by my sister who cooked it for my daughter and me one girls’ night in at my daughter’s home in Florida. Lynn also taught me how to make ravioli using won- ton wrappers. I love ravioli but don’t have a pasta maker (hint-hint) and this shortcut worked just fine. Our filling was butternut squash. A quick sauté in herbed browned butter and we were done.

I have to admit, though, that when she picked up the last of what looked like a pretty wilted bunch of rabe at the supermarket, I was suspicious. But after a dunk in ice water, it was brought back to life.

So when the same thing happened to me, I didn’t panic and grabbed the all-too-rare appearance of rabe at my local market. I made a quick apology to my usual broccoli, said I’d be back next week, and took my prize home. (It was on sale, too!)

I tossed my blanched and sautéed broccoli rabe with feta cheese, chickpeas and a little bit of leftover angel hair pasta, but the adornments are endless. Next time, I think I’ll use crushed red pepper and fontina.

Simple Broccoli Rabe

1 pound broccoli rabe
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced

Place broccoli rabe in large pot of boiling water 2-3 minutes. Be careful not to over cook; it should be slightly hard. Drain the broccoli rabe then place it in a bowl with ice and water. Let it stand in the ice water while you heat the oil.

In a large skillet, heat the oil and garlic for 1 minute. Drain broccoli rabe really well and add to pan. Sauté for approximately about five minutes or until it’s as soft as you’d like it.

Then dress it up as you’d like, too: red pepper flakes, Parmesan cheese, chickpeas, feta, cooked pasta.

Girls Night In: A Toast to Paul

Last weekend I was in Florida visiting with my daughter Amy and my sister Lynn. My daughter lives in Tampa, my sister flew in from New Jersey and I flew in from Pittsburgh. Although we did see each other at Christmastime up north, we don’t see each other enough. Nothing like face time. (And hug time.) The little reunion was not the purpose of the visit, though. We were gathering to participate in what is called a “casting” of a replica of a coral reef into which my sister was placing her late husband’s ashes.

Let me try to explain, as briefly as I can: Back in the early 1990’s, a couple of college roommates in Florida became concerned about the erosion of coral reefs. After some research, they developed a way to make reef balls, made up of primarily concrete as a means to save the delicate coral reefs. And they successfully placed the reef balls in the ocean and helped preserve the marine eco-system.

One of the men’s father-in-law had mentioned, long before he died, that he’d like his ashes put into one of the reef balls, thinking how nice it would be for this fisherman to be surrounded by grouper and snapper after he was gone. That’s how Eternal Reefs got its start in 1998.

Back to my sister: Her husband died in 2007 after a tough time with cancer. Always the most generous of souls, he wanted his body to serve some purpose. So he made plans to have his body donated to the Robert Wood Johnson School of Medicine in New Jersey. My sister wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do with the ashes later, still in their sealed box, until she just happened to spy an ad in the New York Times. My sister believes that if Paul had known about Eternal Reefs, he would have wholeheartedly agreed with the idea. I think so, too; it’s in the same spirit.

And so our little trio embarked on our journey from Amy’s home in Tampa to Sarasota – just an hour’s drive – and helped cast the reef. Eight other families were doing the same thing that day. As the concrete truck came to Paul’s reef, Lynn placed Paul’s ashes into the concrete as it streamed into the mold. (Paul’s mold was #7 in line. Paul, who liked to gamble, would have liked the lucky number.) After about a half-hour had passed, we then “decorated” the top rim of the cast with shells and stones she had saved from vacation trips. My daughter also suggested we add our thumbprints, which we did. Next month, after the mold has completely set, Lynn will return to Florida, this time to Miami, where the reef will be dropped and a memorial service will be held.

It wasn’t a somber day at all: emotional, not maudlin; orderly, not structured. It was an event Paul would have liked because it was meaningful, but not fussy.

We weren’t sure how long the day would last. Turned out to be about three hours. We hadn’t made any firm plans for the day. After the casting, we found a nice shore side place to have lunch and take a walk along the beach.

Of course, after lunch we planned dinner! We’d already decided we were going to have a nice quiet evening in, cooking together. On the ride home, we planned our menu. My sister is just an excellent cook. Always has interesting things to make, simply and with fresh ingredients. And although it’s not 100% authentic, I wanted her to show me how to make something she’d told me about some time ago: short-cut ravioli using won-ton wrappers. The rest of our dinner was roasted pork loin, broccoli rabe, and Amy’s specialty: peanut butter no-bake cookies!

Making the ravioli wasn’t hard, merely somewhat time-consuming. But once you got a rhythm going, it was easy. I got frustrated a couple times at my filling oozing out, but Lynn showed me how not to put too much filling on and being firm in sealing the edges. I’ve read that many people have had trouble making these: filling oozing out in the water while cooking, or dissatisfaction with the fake “pasta.” You do have to be firm in sealing and as far as it not being pasta, well, it isn’t. It is what it is, a short-cut substitute that’s a pretty good one.

We chose a pre-seasoned pork loin as a time saver. And Lynn showed me how simple preparing the broccoli rabe was. She cooked the cut rabe stalks briefly in boiling water, then placed them in ice water. Then, after the roast was ready, and the ravioli cooked, she reheated the rabe in the microwave with garlic butter. They stayed a bright green; the blanching effectively perked up what was a pretty wilted-looking bunch, the last at the store.

Dinner was delightful. The time spent cooking with my daughter and sister, precious. It was the perfect ending to a lovely day. Paul would have liked the idea that we celebrated the day with a great dinner at home, instead of going out. We shared stories abut Paul, and had a toast or two. He always preferred dinner in. Who wouldn’t, married to a great cook like Lynn -- and such a special person.

Squash Ravioli with Sage Butter

1 package frozen butternut squash
1 C ricotta
¼ C. parmesan cheese
2 T. chopped fresh parsley
½ t. chopped fresh thyme
1 package won-ton wrappers

Thaw squash. In bowl, place ¾ cup squash (reserve the remainder for another use), the ricotta, parmesan, parsley and thyme. Season with salt and pepper.

Place wrappers on work surface. Have small bowl of water handy, for sealing. Place a tablespoon of filling in center of wrapper. Brush edges with water, or use fingers. Fold in half, one corner over to the other, forming a triangle. Press firmly all around to seal.

Cook ravioli in pot of boiling salted water until just tender, about 1 minute. Carefully drain. Serve with Sage Butter Sauce.

Sage Butter Sauce

5 T unsalted butter
15-18 small fresh sage leaves
¼ C chicken broth
Melt butter in a medium frying pan over medium heat until the white milk solids have browned, about 5 minutes. Add sage and chicken broth and reduce heat to medium low. Simmer until sauce is reduced and slightly thickened, about 3 minutes. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper.