Gnocchi: Making Messes and Getting Creative

For the past couple of months, I have struggled with recipe rut. Either the recipes don’t turn out like I had hoped, or it just didn’t taste post-worthy. I am also dealing with wanting to do so much. Along with a full workweek at the NGO, I’m also doing six credits worth of work this semester for school. Hoping to make use of my free time more efficiently, I had this optimistic hope that I could cook, photograph, write, sew, draw, paint, exercise, sing, dance, and travel in my free time. I wanted to work on enhancing my skills in all of these simultaneously. I wanted to devote equal amount of time all of my creative outlets.

And then reality set in. I couldn’t do it all and still hold on to my sanity. In an effort to better myself to such extreme measures, without down time or people I cared about, I would be talented… but not a better person. I've had great advice from friends when I needed suggestions in making time for my passions: 

"Preferably mix the ones most compatible and develop them together (such as art and writing). If it can't be managed, stick with the one you love most and rotate the others."

"Combine them. Works the best for me. Although my hobbies are different, they mostly go hand in hand."

Worse still, I started to see the struggle CK goes through when he talks about making food as a chore. It isn’t as fun when you aren’t making it with or for other people. After the two Maltese dishes I made, I was left with tons of leftovers. It became monotonous and boring to eat the same thing day after day. Food really does taste better with other people to enjoy it with. The ambience and the company are equally important to eating as the food itself.

"Where love sets the table food tastes at its best."
- French Proverb

Making gnocchi, for example, just doesn't taste the same unless you're making a mess with another person.

When CK visited in December, we made gnocchi for the first time. Without a potato ricer, they turned out tasting like mashed potato pillows, but still good sautéed in butter with spinach and cheese. And when he visited again at the end of January, he surprised me with a potato ricer, and it made all the difference.

Trial 1: Delicious, but dense and mashed potatoey

And before you tsk tsk with the concept of getting a potato ricer because it is considered a single use kitchen appliance and will likely gather dust in your cabinet next to your fondue pot, think again! I've used it to make lump-free mashed sweet potato and squeezed excess water from shredded zucchini for nutrient-laden pancakes. I am also in the works to making gluten free spätzle and single serving apple sauce with it. (So there...)

Gnocchi is by far my favorite pasta to make from scratch. There is no expectation to have a perfect shape, although the smaller the pieces the firmer they are after boiling. While initially bland in flavor, they transform a dish to something filled with comfort and warmth. Making and preparing gnocchi takes longer (and creates such a satisfying mess) than it does to cook it. I find my favorite way of making a recipe with gnocchi is cooking them and then using them to make a casserole of sorts with bubbling sauce and cheese. If you ever need a dish that promotes a borderline meditative state in making and eating, gnocchi is for you.

I followed the instructions Heidi of 101 Cookbooks wrote in her post “How to Make Gnocchi like an Italian Grandmother recipe”, and I found that the Maltese Derby worked quite well. And even better, I used my favorite flour (garbanzo bean/chickpea/besan) and turned it into a grain-free delight!

This is a dish to make with your sweetie on any date night you have coming up. It is also a great way to get your family and friends in on the fun of making a true blue homemade meal. In the midst of counters to scrub and flour to wipe off every surface, it’s certainly worth the mess.

Grain-free Gnocchi (inspired by Heidi’s recipe)

2 lbs Potatoes*
1 Large (50 g) Egg
120 g Garbanzo bean flour
Sea salt
Dried spices, optional**

Place the potatoes (washed) in a large pot and pour the water so it covers at least a couple of inches above. (Note: depending on their size, it may be a good idea to cut them in half. Since the Maltese Derby is medium-sized to small, I didn’t need to.)
Salt the water (a teaspoon or two will do), and bring to a boil until potatoes are tender, roughly 45 minutes depending on the potatoes’ respective sizes.
Remove the potatoes from the water one at a time with a slotted spoon, but save the potato water.
Place each potato on a large cutting board and peel it as soon as possible before moving on to the next potato (without burning yourself, mind. I find keeping a small bowl of cold water works wonders. Heidi recommends using a paring knife).***
While hot, push the potatoes through the ricer to create very light fluffy potato piles. (I found the potato ricer really does help in making quality gnocchi. It’s worth the buy.)
Let the potatoes cool spread out across the cutting board for roughly fifteen minutes, or long enough so that the egg won't cook when it is incorporated into the potatoes.
When ready, pull the potatoes into a soft mound, drizzle with the beaten egg and sprinkle 3/4 of the flour across the top.
With a spatula, scrape underneath and fold, scrape and fold until the mixture is a light crumble and add the remaining flour (a little at a time) until the dough is moist but not tacky, almost billowy.
Cut it into 8 pieces, and gently roll each piece of dough into a snake-shaped log, roughly the thickness of your thumb.
Use a knife to cut pieces every 3/4-inch/2 cm.
Shape the gnocchi by holding a fork in one hand and placing a gnocchi piece against the tines of the fork, cut ends out.
Use your thumb and press in and down the length of the fork, and the gnocchi should curl into a slight "C" shape as their backs capture the impression of the tines as tiny ridges (great for sauce).
Set each piece of gnocchi aside until you are ready to boil them.
Reheat your potato water or start with a fresh pot (salted), and bring to a boil.
Cook the gnocchi in batches by dropping them into the boiling water roughly twenty at a time (I’ve been able to do up to thirty or forty, but was conscious of where I dropped them into the water. I also found it easier to do so if they went in one at a time).
Once they are done, they will pop back up to the top.
Fish them out of the water a few at a time with a slotted spoon ten seconds or so**** after they've surfaced.
Place them in another bowl, either with sauce to serve immediately or in a pile to be used for later (they’ve yet to stick when I just place them on top of each other as I prepare to put them in the oven).
Continue cooking in batches until all the gnocchi are done.
Serve hot with sauce, pesto, or cheese.

Makes 3 – 6 Servings, depending on meal size or appetite.

* Heidi recommended using Russet potatoes because of their starch content. I found that the MDP also worked well, despite it’s texture being waxy and wet.
** Gnocchi by itself can be a little bland, so adding some dried spices like basil, oregano, or thyme to the dough will enhance the flavor. I would love to add nutmeg next time.
*** CK wanted me to mention "that after boiling long enough, the skin should slough off with a bit of pressure. It let me peel the potatoes quickly."
**** Depending on the size of the pieces or the flour you are using, you may find that ten seconds just isn’t enough time. My rule of thumb is to wait twenty seconds AFTER the entire batch (1/8 of the dough) has plopped to the surface.

When [He's] in Rome

Long distance relationships are hard. It takes a lot of effort to keep one going while separated, but it is doable. And with the right person, it’s worth it.

In our second stretch of time that we’ve been apart, we’ve really made the effort to show that the relationship is important to us. We Skype almost every day: talking about how our day went, complete with its triumphs and grievances. The important thing in any relationship is keeping the line of communication open, but it’s absolutely fascinating how many couples tend to forget that.

The other thing we do during our talks is watch Babylon 5 episodes at the same time together. He got me hooked on the series when he was visiting over the summer, and it is an activity that helps us feel connected despite his being 4500 miles away. We’ll watch one, at most three, and I’ll hear him giggle at my expressions.

(My Can't-Look-Away Expression)

(My Season Finale Expression)

Lately, he’s been having a lack of motivation where meals are concerned. He’s a lot like me in that regard; unless it’s a moment shared with people we care about, food is typically considered food and nothing more. Sure, we are creative with leftovers and think of new things of make, but the spark of cooking just isn’t there. So we came up with a plan to use Skype for more than witty banter and Babylon 5 marathons.

Now, we use it in the kitchen.

I don’t know who decided what the dish would be, but the point of this act of connecting was the following:

1. It would be the same dish.
2. It would be from the same recipe.
3. It would be prepared, cooked, and eaten simultaneously. (My lunchtime is his dinnertime, so it works out beautifully.)

Even 4500 miles away, we can still cook together.

The dish was a Roman classic: Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe. Any Roman will emphasize that it has three ingredients and only three ingredients. Always. No exceptions.

Cheese + Black pepper + Pasta = Delizioso. 

He got the recipe off of the Tales of Ambrosia site, and although I used gluten free pasta and the wrong cheese (It was a Pecorino Romano / Parmesan blend), it was absolutely divine.

I loved her trick of putting the serving bowl on top of the pot to heat it up with steam. The only differences were I made a fourth of the recipe (enough for one really hungry person or two just hungry enough persons) and I simply mixed the ingredients in the drained pot before putting it on the hot plate. Oh, and using a blend of cheeses. (I can already feel the Romans cringing from here…)

(image source)

I still stand by my statement in saying that Tinkyáda’s® Rice Pasta is the best I’ve encountered in my gluten-free journey thus far. We use many of their products in our noodle dishes, and their spaghetti pasta was perfect to use in this recipe. Did I mention it slurps like semolina-based pasta?

Now that's what I call quality.

Moon & Stars Noodle Soup

I can’t remember the last time I prepared pasta. The first time I made it from scratch was back in 2009, but it wasn’t the gluten free kind. Despite that, there was something therapeutic and magical about making pasta from scratch. Why I don't make it more often is beyond me.

July’s Gluten Free Ratio Rally, hosted by the lovely Jenn of Jenn Cuisine, was pasta. I was so bummed to miss out, especially since noodle making seemed like the perfect challenge for an aspiring gluten free cook like myself.

Most gluten free pasta is made with rice or corn, though it’s usually the former. Sometimes you find quinoa or buckwheat, but it can be rare and rather expensive. In fact, I’ve wanted to work with soba noodles, the Japanese-style noodle that is part buckwheat, and I found a gluten free version that cost eight dollars. Eight dollars… for eight ounces.

Is it me, or is that just ridiculous?

Actually, I feel that most gluten free pasta (heck, most products) is absurdly priced. And when you make it from scratch, it is not only fresher but also more economical for you.

I’ll be honest; working with fresh pasta was difficult for me. I’m used to knowing when dry pasta is done after boiling in water. Mine seemed al dente after cooking, but I think that had more to do with the buckwheat and not cooking it long enough. Next time I’m going to try various flour combinations, but I think this was a great start.

Buckwheat Pasta Dough

9 oz Buckwheat flour
6 oz Eggs (Or 3 eggs and 1 egg yolk)

Combine the flour and eggs in a food processor (or by hand) and pulse until a ball of dough is formed.
Remove from the food processor and place it onto the counter, forming the dough into a manageable disk shape.
Wrap it in plastic and let it rest for an hour in the fridge. (Can be refrigerated for 24 hours and frozen for up to a month.)
Cut into four equal pieces, around 3.75 ounces, roll them to the desired thinness, and cut.

 

Moons & Stars Noodle Soup 

1 c. Chicken broth
2 c. Filtered water
1/2 Yellow Zucchini, shaved into long “noodles”
1 Carrot, shaved into long “noodles”
1 Celery stalk, shaved into long “noodles”
1 Shallot, halved and thinly sliced
1 Garlic clove, coarsely chopped
1 – 2 tsp Ginger, finely chopped or shaved
2 oz Turkey deli slices, torn into manageable pieces
1/2 tsp. Sea salt
1/2 tsp. Pepper
3.75 oz Buckwheat pasta, rolled out thinly and shaped with moon and star cookie cutters
1 tbsp. Olive oil

Fill a medium-sized saucepan with water halfway (with the olive oil), and place it on medium-high heat for the pasta.
In another saucepan, add all the ingredients except for the pasta on medium-low heat.
Roll out the buckwheat pasta dough thinly, and cut into moon and star shapes with a cookie cutter.
When the water has come to a boil, cook the pasta until soft.
Pour the soup into one or two bowls depending on the meal and top it with the noodles.

Makes up to 10 noodles. Serves 1 or 2 people.