I was trying to think of clever titles for this post, but all I could think of was “Dancing in my Gnudi pants”, in reference to the Georgia Nicholson series, which I devoured one summer at my cousin’s house when I was fifteen. But that really isn’t a good reference to make, when I’m trying to convince you to make this recipe for dinner…
Today is day two in our new house! My Sunday was spent madly packing
the last –okay, most of my belongings into boxes and bins and miraculously fitting, at least, 80% of my life into my car. Tabby may be small, but she’s a beast. Just saying. (Even more miraculous, I think she got better mileage while packed with stuff–like, 5 more miles to the gallon, better. That, or I filled up the tank partway and forgot about it…but I don’t think that I am so exhausted as to forget a trip to the gas station). Anyways, Monday was moving day, and we did a lot of it. Between picking up the U-Haul, picking up keys (the rental office did not open until 10am, which set our day back a little bit), grabbing a new dining table from a friend’s, and packing up the first load at M’s house, we didn’t actually get into our new townhouse until 1:30pm. But, all of our belongings and furniture made it into the house by 5pm, which is a great achievement. Now, we are stuck trying to unpack everything, which is really the hard part.
I did not, to my relief, cull down any of my kitchen supplies, but this move has proven how strange of an assortment of kitchen gear I own. Brotform proofing basket? Check. Madeleine Cookie mold? Check. Bread proofer, crockpots, muffin tins, baking tins, measuring spoons, pot holders? Check and check. But when it came time for dinner (M had already claimed making a curry), we had no knives or plates (the plates got left behind in the plot of a long explanation). After four years in a college dorm and three solid years of regular cooking and kitchen experiments, it turns out that I do not (nor does M or S) own my own knives. Or a vegetable peeler. Or measuring cups, mixing bowls, pots and pans, cutting boards, or spatulas. I’ve always used my mother’s. Or M’s mother’s, or whichever roommate had brought those tools for the year. It was an enlightening and disappointing discovery. While I have lovely plans for a shopping spree for such essentials, my wallet does not support that plan. We’ll have to see what we can get by on borrowing and buying piecemeal as we go along.
Luckily, S did own (and bring) a few pots, and with M’s pocket knife, dinner got on the table–in mason jars, the only containers that had made it into the kitchen. It was an interesting end to the day, but I don’t know if I have eaten more delicious curry. The next day, I bought a cast-iron skillet and a chef’s knife, and M grabbed some of the plates. We may have enough tools to survive now! 😉 Since Monday was my last day off for a week, and the last day off for M and S for at least another 10 days, the actual unpacking process has been quite slow. Some cooking is certainly happening in the little corner of counter space cleared by the stove, but I’ve been more lax in documenting it. Last night, the boys grilled steaks while I tossed together an herbed mediterranean salad and skillet potatoes. I’m sure I will be making both again soon–photos will have to be taken on the second round. I’ve always been a little torn about posting salad-type recipes…I guess some of my favorites (this mediterranean, a two-bean salad from my sister, my mother’s ambrosia, or macaroni salad, etc) don’t seem to be very revolutionary. Tasty, absolutely, but they are simple enough that I’m sure you could find another recipe on the internet. However, since this blog was started to serve as an online collection of my recipes, as much for myself as for anyone else, I think I do need to share my salad “recipes”. If I really get my act together, maybe I will have a salad week! Especially with summer coming around.
Speaking of summer, it certainly isn’t here. While we haven’t gotten any snow for a few weeks, it has now become reliably sunny. Looking out a window is looking out to a glorious promise of sun and warmth…a promise that is, in fact, a lie. It is still quite chilly with the wind, in spite of the sun beaming down. Maybe it is because of this disconnect that I have found myself craving tea, constantly. I may, or may not, have just stopped to make yet another cup of Earl Grey. (See, I am not quite as random as I seem–only tangential!) Even though it is April, and even after last night’s lovely salad, I am still wrapped in sweaters, holding a cup of hot tea, and thinking about the rich, warming stews, rich gravies, and filling squash dishes of winter.
For today’s recipe, especially since I am still bogged down with unpacking, I have a recipe that I made several weeks ago, when the season, definitely, could still be counted as winter. I came across Giada’s recipe for Gnudi and was intrigued by these “nude ravioli”. Filled pastas, like ravioli and tortellini and chinese dumplings, were a staple in my house when I was young. After going gluten-free, I have had one dish of GF ravioli that was actually passable (in fact, it was delicious!) at a local restaurant. I was very much interested in trying gnudi as a substitute. A creamy mix of ricotta under thick tomato sauce would be the perfect warm and comforting dish to make for dinner. (Ultimately, my binge-cooking got the best of me, and I made cabbage rolls to go along with this. Recipe for those coming soon!)
My expectations for this recipe were, honestly, entirely wrong. Though the ingredients make up the soft, creamy filling of ravioli, I should have thought more about their counterpart in name: gnocchi. Gnudi are dumplings, in the “chicken and dumplings” sense–thick all the way through, rather than holding the soft ravioli center. This didn’t diminish their tastiness, but it was rather surprising when I came to the finished product. Because I was expecting these to be a tad softer, I made them into larger rounds, like the dinner-sized raviolis of my childhood. Next time, I will definitely keep gnocchi in mind and form my gnudi much, much smaller into little bite-sized pillows of cheesy awesome. But their large size wasn’t much of an issue–two gnudi made the perfect snack, three were great for dinner with a side dish. M, ultimately, ate these with his fingers, dipping them into the marinara sauce like I have photographed. Either way you form them, big or small, gnudi are a delicious option for any meal.
Adapted from Giada De Laurentiis
Serves 6 | Prep time: 30 minutes | Cook time: 15 minutes
- 1 c. whole-milk ricotta, undrained*
- 2 c. kale leaves
- 1 c. grated parmesan or pecorino romano (please use REAL cheese, not the Kraft Green Bottle stuff)
- 1/4 c. shredded mozzarella
- 2 eggs
- 2 egg yolks
- 1/2 tsp. nutmeg
- 1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
- 1 tsp. dried basil
- 1 tsp. (each) salt and pepper
- 6 tsp gluten-free flour mix + extra for dredging(I used 2 Tbsp, each, White Rice Flour, Sorghum Flour, and Tapioca Starch)
- 1/8 tsp. xanthan gum
- Pasta sauce (marinara, bolognese, vodka sauce, etc)
*Stir the liquid at the top of the ricotta into the rest, then scoop out ricotta to measure
Rinse and dry the kale leaves. Chop finely. Mix the ricotta, kale, cheese, eggs, egg yolks, and spices in a large bowl. Whisk 6 tablespoons of flour mix and xanthan gum in a small bowl until well-combined. Stir in flour mixture, incorporate well. Refrigerate for ten to fifteen minutes. This rest will help the flour begin to absorb the liquid, as well as firm the mixture slightly. The mixture may still be rather loose and “goopy”.
After mixture has chilled, place a large pot of water on the stove. Heat to boiling, then turn down to a simmer. Add additional flour to a wide, shallow bowl. Using a spoon or two, scoop out desired amount of cheese mixture for one piece of gnudi. Drop mixture into flour and coat lightly (I spooned some flour over top, then rolled a little bit). Once coated, the gnudi will be able to be picked up by hand, but will still be delicate. Drop gnudi into simmering water in small batches and allow to cook for about 5 minutes, until the gnudi are cooked through and float to the surface. Drain and keep warm until serving.
Continue shaping, dredging, and cooking gnudi in small batches. Serve warm with your favorite pasta sauce.
Would you make small gnocchi-size gnudi? Or keep them big (and potential finger foods)? Do you have the same everlasting love for tea? Do you name your car? (Fun fact: Tabby’s full name is Tabitha. And my KitchenAid Stand Mixer is named Henrietta. Those are the only inanimate objects that have names, though.) Have you read the Georgia Nicholson books?