Creamy Pork Pasta

Standing in front of the noticeboard, rifling around in my handbag for a pen and my diary my eyes scanned the roster. A groan of exasperation escaped. I had a split shift, not especially unusual on weekends where I’d wander to the gym or a walk around the city, I was loving working in but this one was 3 ½ hours. Too long to spend at the gym, at least for me it was and too short to go home and return, it was an awkward break that I was dreading.

A time before phones, social media and endless scrolling. A time when rosters were posted on noticeboards, when noticeboards were still a thing and schedules were maintained in diaries, it was the early 90’s and I worked in hospitality. I loved it, the pace, the variety and the joy of ensuring guests enjoyed a good time. I was a waitress by day, and on weekends, a ‘hostess’ on the door of the Hotel nightclub, all 5’3” of me. City hotels, their restaurants and bars held an air of glamour as did a night out enjoying the experience. The venue I worked in was extremely popular and a reservation in the themed restaurant or admission to the nightclub highly sought after and weekend staff very busy.

After a busy lunch shift caring for happy revellers dining before weekend theatre matinees or taking shelter from winter weather after morning city shopping sprees (also a thing of the past) I changed out of my uniform contemplating what on earth I was going to do with myself. A quick peruse through the entertainment section of the Saturday newspaper and I decided to take myself to the movies. It really was the time of the dinosaurs having to use a newspaper to choose a movie, where we’d see our favourite actor featured and blindly decide to see the feature without prior knowledge of the film’s story. Patrick Swayze was taking the leap into a serious role starring in a film, set in poverty stricken, Calcutta. I was 21, probably more naive than I’d have admitted at the time and it was the first time I’d taken myself to the cinema alone. Whilst the film does finish on a hopeful note it was, for very young me, somewhat traumatic. With no one to de-brief with and still 1 ½ hours to kill before my shift I decided I needed a lift and that in my newly asserting air of maturity (tongue firmly in cheek with the benefit of hindsight) I’d take myself out for an early dinner. Also a first time experience I walked down the road from the hotel in which I worked to a small Italian trattoria I’d been eyeing off keenly. Feeling very sophisticated I walked the tree lined entrance lit with gently waving festoon lights asking the host in his crisp white shirt and apron for a table for one. Taking my seat, I ordered a chardonnay (did I mention it was the 90’s?...Still love a Chardy too) and started people watching. Now to set the scene, remember no phones to scroll through and look occupied with, five pm and very few fellow diners, in fact none and a restaurant full of highly professional hospitality staff poised and ready to serve. There wasn’t a lot of people to watch, I’d sat myself with my back to the front window therefore couldn’t watch the passing parade and well I really had no idea what to do with myself. Reading the menu for perhaps longer than was strictly necessary, something that doesn’t happen now having thoroughly studied the menu online before venturing out, the waiter took his time greeting me and chatting with me possibly sensing my discomfort. Confused by the elevated nature of the Italian fare on offer the waiter directed my attention to a dish he thought I’d enjoy. An odd sounding dish whilst still quite simple in the way of Italian food that adventurous me was happy to try and agree to in my discomfit and be left to sip my wine taking in preservice preparations in the restaurant. From what was probably a quiet kitchen, my meal was presented to me quite soon after ordering. The aroma rose to greet me first, making my increasingly hungry stomach rumble. Steam mingled with the freshly grated parmesan cheese sprinkled over my meal by my attentive server adding another layer to the interesting bouquet enticing me. Left alone to enjoy my dinner I plunged my fork into the pasta tubes nestled in the pale coloured sauce threaded with small pieces of pork and dainty jewel like dice of carrot. Nutmeg tickled my tastebuds as I took my first mouthful and the cream swirled around my mouth. A layer of white wine revealed itself and a faint hint of freshness from flecks of parsley unfolded. I was suddenly very occupied of mind and distracted by the superb plate of handmade pasta before me. Deciding dinner for one wasn’t so awful after all, my full attention given to my carefully crafted meal completly undistracted by conversation just an internal discussion between my tastebuds and me to keep me occupied.

I’ve never forgotten that afternoon for all its lessons both in being adventurous and that wonderful combination of flavours.

Ingredients:

300 gm minced pork (not lean)

1 Tb extra virgin olive oil

1 eschallot finely minced

1 garlic cloved finely minced

½ cup carrot finely diced (I know this is an odd instruction but our ideas of what it’s a small carrot varies and actual measures works)

1 tsp freshly grated nutmeg and extra to finish

1 tsp salt flakes

125 ml white wine

250 ml cream

1 tb finley chopped flat leaf parsley

Your favourite pasta. I like to use a rigatoni or penne. We eat around 75gm of dried pasta person for the four of us. This quantity will coat that amount of pasta nicely.

Parmesan cheese to serve.

 Method:

Warm a medium sized heavy based pan over a medium heat. Add oil, turn heat down to low and add eschalot and carrot. Cook gently five minutes. Add garlic and nutmeg and cook gently for one minute. Push everything to the edge increase heat to medium and add pork. Brown five minutes until just cooked through breaking up lumps with your spoon as it cooks. Stir everything together, adding salt and increase heat to med-high. After a few minutes cooking at the higher heat, it should be starting to sizzle. Pour wine in, letting it bubble for a minute then reduce heat simmering until decreased by half. Pour in cream and simmer for a until slightly thickened, stir through parsley. Tip cooked pasta in and stir through until pasta is well amalgamated. Grate over additional nutmeg so the heat of the of the dish releases the lovely aroma. Serve with parmesan cheese sand black pepper sprinkled to taste.

Herbed Beef and Macaroni

Nostalgia has been front of mind lately, like a chain, all it’s elements individual links forming its reach. I’m not sure what’s motivated it but I know it started with a conversation with Mel and our joint quest for an old high school home economics text book, both of us coincidentally in pursuit of a seemingly simple but comforting recipe for apple dumplings. It was a strange happenstance that we should both be motivated by the same recipe and that it should come to light quite deep into the conversation. It’s the comfort that such nostalgic recipes bring that motivates such a hunt and a big reflection and metaphor for who I am really.

At the nursery this week looking for new season herbs I came home with three bright pink fuchsia plants to fill a spot in my garden needing a lift. They were my Nana’s favourite plant and featured frequently in corners of her garden cascading from hanging baskets like ballerinas dancing in the breeze every spring. They fascinated me as a child their little buds popping with a gentle squeeze revealing the stamen and pistil ready to erupt. As a little ballerina myself I always ‘saw’ fairies and ballerinas fluttering their wings or pointing their toes from the jewel-coloured blooms. I can’t wait for the little buds to burst in my little fuchsia patch and hope somewhere somehow they make my Nana smile.

Pottering in another part of my garden bright green buds almost reminiscent of fresh figs with ruby red centres had just started opening on one of the many orchid plants from my father’s collection. A hobby he took up in retirement, the accumulation, nurturing and sharing of his collection became a passion. I always smile fondly when they flush making sure to gather the long lasting stems and bring them inside to enjoy their elegant adornment almost like having my dad around again, popping in to visit.

They’re simple pursuits that consume me and occupy my mind and time. Nothing too fancy and definitely not particularly sexy. Indeed some may find them mundane and hokey, perhaps even frown on them. I’ve often looked on my passions myself that way even answering questions in polite conversation about them in hushed tones, brushing over them, trying to seem more intellectual and interesting. It was whilst listening to this episode of my favourite podcast this week that this came to mind and indeed I almost felt like Lindsay and her guest were giving me permission to remain elbow deep in the flour and soil and creativity. Noting their love of their individual interests motivated by nothing else but their love of them rather than any societal presumptions of them that can sometimes superficially be attached to such simple pastimes gave me pause. These pursuits bring comfort be they born from nostalgia like mine or otherwise. No matter how simple nor highbrow they may seem to others I realised that they really are like a soft crocheted blanket from nana ( did I mention my love of a blankie? ) tucked around your lap on a cold evening, they allow you to breathe out feel ‘warm’ in all the ways and offer you escape and indeed an intellectual flex in a way that’s meaningful to you…and that really is the thing that matters most.

Much like my simple pursuits beef mince is a simple ingredient often forming the basis for simple meals. There’s usually always a tray of it in my freezer, so much so I could almost write a book of mince recipes. It’s an ingredient often associated with nostalgic meals like this one and more often than not comfort food. Maybe it’s that air of nostalgia that’s prevailed recently that reminded me of this dish from my childhood. Herbed Beef and Macaroni was one of my mum’s specialties from her Women’s Weekly Recipe Card Collection box. Remember those? They were a prized collection taking pride of place in thousands of Australian kitchens in the 70’s and 80’s. As was the case in that cooking era it featured a few convenient hacks using tinned soup and packets. Working from memory and a preference for working from scratch, I was keen to reconstruct this family fave. I was thrilled to plunge my fork into a warming bowl of this hearty dish and even more so to taste a dinner that tasted just like it did at mum’s hands.

Ingrendients:

1 Tb olive oil, you know the drill, extra virgin

1 brown onion finely diced

1 carrot peeled and very finely diced or grated

1 garlic clove crushed

150 gm bacon chopped in chunks

500gm beef mince (not the low fat stuff, it’s dry and flavourless)

400g jar of tomato passata/puree + a jar of water

1 Tbs dried mixed herbs – the old school variety

1 tsp dried oregano

1 beef stock cube

1 ½ cups of small shaped dried pasta like macaroni or elbows

1 c frozen peas ( I use baby peas, they’re much sweeter)

Method:

In a large frypan, that has a well-fitting lid, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the bacon and fry off until the edges start to caramelise, about five minutes.

Reduce heat to low and add onion and carrot and cook gently until softened but not browned, another five minutes.

Increase heat to medium high and add the garlic cook briefly until the garlic aroma wafts up. Push all this to the edge of the pan and add the pat of mince allowing it to brown whole for a few minutes each side like you would a whole piece of meat. After you’ve browned both sides break it up and continue browning the meat. You don’t need to cook it through completely but rather brown it mostly.

Sprinkle over the herbs and stir briefly allowing them to warm and release their fragrance. Pour in the passata and using that jar add a jar full of water. Crumble the stock cube over the mixture and stir to combine.

Tumble the pasta shapes into the mixture and stir to combine well. Turn heat back down to low, pop the lid on and cook for ten minutes stirring half way through to ensure it doesn’t catch on the bottom.

Remove the lid, stir again and taste check the pasta for doneness and check for seasoning. Add salt and black pepper to taste now. Try not to do this earlier as both the bacon and stock cube add a lot of flavour and needs time to cook down a little before you taste and season. Allow to simmer for a few more minutes with the lid off to let some of the liquid reduce. Finally add the peas and simmer a further five minutes or until the pasta is tender but not too soft.

I like to serve it with a sprinkle of gremolata to freshen up the flavour. Chop a small handful of flat leaf parsley, grated rind of a lemon and a garlic clove together until fine and sprinkle to taste.

Spaghetti Bolognese

What’s your favourite dinner? The one that makes you smile when you reminisce and remember your younger self eating it. The one you make for your own kids now and that you want them to love. The one that weaves it’s way through your own memories. The comfort food dinner. If I’m honest, for me, it’s spaghetti bolognese. I have many memories attached to the iconic dish, many of them around it’s evolution in my cooking world to the dish I make today. Now my kids have many memories around ‘Spag Bol,’ as it’s affectionately known here, and it’s the one meal unfailingly met with smiles at every serving and the one they now want to learn to make themselves. Indeed I imagine as their version evolves so too will the flavour and their own memories around the dish.

My first encounter with a bowl of noodles encased in meaty tomatoey sauce was in a family restaurant we visited to celebrate family milestones and special occasions. My family didn’t know any Italian folks nor were my parents particularly adventurous in the kitchen so any pasta dish beyond Kraft Macaroni Cheese from a box or tinned spaghetti seemed very exotic. After much nagging my poor mum who wasn’t particularly adept in the kitchen gave it a go. With no recipes or friends to guide her she cooked up some dried pasta pouring the wiggly worm like strands into the bowl and topping it with tomato paste. I don’t need to explain how that went except to say from there it was Campbell’s tinned Bolognese sauce all the way….for many years.

In my early 20’s, chatting with an older friend who was quite an accomplished cook, she was horrified by my bolognese journey and set herself the task of helping me master the art of the wholesome favourite. More cans and short cuts ensued but we were at least on the way to homemade version of some sort. This one involved Campbell’s again only this time a can of their condensed tomato soup and a dash of curry powder….. I know. But in my defence I was young and still pretty inexperienced in the kitchen. I thought I was almost Italian and indeed was finally able to teach my mum how to make ‘proper’ spaghetti. As stir through sauces appeared at the supermarket Mum would bounce between them and the tomato soup and curry method, both obviously usurping the tub of tomato paste on hot pasta method.

Now I’m the mum and my kids want to know how to make our family version of the classic dish. My eldest son, who’s nearly 23, is heading off with his friends on an adventure early next year. They’re planning a half lap of Australia heading west, touring in their 4WD’s camping and living off grid. I’m all parts excited for them and terrified. It’ll be the longest he’s been away from us and we’ll miss him enormously. Last Christmas one of the gifts I bought both boys was a recipe journal with plans to write in any favourite dishes they want to be able to make for themselves in their own homes in years to come. Boy 1’s first request was Spag Bol, but here’s the thing….After decades of making something by sight, smell and feel I had to really think about how I create something that’s second nature. It’s forced me to slow down and really note how it all comes together and record it for posterity as much as pass on to him.

So with your indulgence, I hope you don’t mind pasta two weeks in a row, I thought I’d share with you our version of the aussie Italian hybrid that’s equal parts a nod to Australia’s multicultural heritage as it is to the evolution of my cooking skills and our little family’s food story.

***A little note on my method for cooking my sauce. You’ll note that after bringing everything together on the stove I cover the pot and pop it into the oven for a few hours. I stumbled on this idea when two commitments collided but I needed dinner ready for a visit from my diabetic dad. I suspected that on a low temperature I could let the pot bubble away in the oven without a lot of supervision as opposed to cooking it on a stove as I had until then which of course requires your attention and stirring. Not only did the sauce look after itself that afternoon but the richness it developed in the oven versus the stove was a revelation. And, as I did that long ago Sunday with a get together with the neighbours, you can relax and enjoy a little glass of wine while dinner bubbles away. You can still cook yours on the stove if you prefer as my son will need to do on a camping stove in the wilds of outback Western Australia next year.

Ingredients

2 tb Extra virgin olive oil

100 gm prosciutto, pancetta, bacon or ham (you can even use left over roast pork chopped up)

1 large onion finely diced

1 carrot finely chopped or grated if you prefer. The kids can help you with that step perhaps.

½ celery stick finely chopped

1Kg beef mince. Don’t choose the lean one, all the flavour is in the meat fat.

3 garlic cloves crushed or grated

1 tb dried oregano leaves

2 tbs tomato paste

2 400 gm cans of crushed or chopped tomatoes PLUS two cans of water/beef stock

2 beef stock cubes if not using beef stock for above

1 700g bottle of passata

A generous grating of fresh nutmeg

1 tsp of salt flakes

Black pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 180c.

Over a medium flame on the stove warm the olive oil in a heavy based pot that has a well fitting lid for later.

Sauté Prosciutto, bacon or whatever pork product your using and cook until starting to crisp at the edges. Add onion, carrot and celery to the pot and turn heat to low cooking gently for up to 10 minutes until soft and translucent. Return heat to medium and pop the garlic and nutmeg into the pot warming a minute or two until fragrant. Push all that to the edges of the pot and drop the mince in the pot increasing heat to med-high. Leave the mince whole for a few minutes letting it sear and brown before turning the meat whole and repeating that sear again. Once both sides are brown you can start breaking up it up to continue browning the mince. When almost don’t stir the vegies and prosciutto/bacon into the mince. Add the tomato paste to the mixture, stir through thoroughly and let the paste cook off for a moment or two. Turn heat to high and pour in the wine letting it bubble up and cook off for a few minutes reducing in colume slightly.

Stir in tomatoes and passata, water/stock (pop the stock cube in now if using in place of stock), oregano and salt and pepper. Bring to the boil, cover with a lid and place in the oven. After the first hour remove and stir. Pop it back in the oven for another hour and your done. Check for seasoning and adjusting as required.

***Notes***

If you think the sauce is getting too thick too quickly you can add water to return some moisture to the dish.

If you need an extra to hang out with the neighbours/read a book/play with the kids/ do the shopping etc turn the oven down to 160c. It should buy you another 45to sixty minutes but keep a little eye on the moisture.

As I mentioned previously I don’t have a lot of gadgets including a slow cooker. If you want to be uber organised you could probably do this in the slow cooker. You might like to use this handy tool to convert my instructions.

A weird but tasty addition is some leftover roast pumpkin mashed into the sauce just before going into the oven. Trust me…Delicious but shhh don’t tell the hubs I fed him pumpkin.