Name: Vinland Two Brewed By: Mystic Brewery Style: Farmhouse Ale ABV: 7.3% Purchased: The Craft Beer Cellar – Belmont, MA I picked up this bottle of Mystic Vinland Two on my recent trip to Massachusetts; Vinland Two is part of Mystics native yeast series. The yeast used to ferment this farmhouse ale was cultured from […]
Chad Lothian lives in Old Town, Maine. He is a craft beer enthusiast and homebrewer. Chad has travelled to brewpubs, breweries and brewfests all over New England.Follow @Chaddah
- 1 lb. spaghetti
- 1/3 cup olive oil
- 8 cloves garlic, finely minced
- 2 teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes (use less for a milder sauce)
- 1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
- 1 can fire roasted tomatoes
- 1/2 cup fresh basil, torn into pieces
- 1/4 cup fresh mint, chopped
- 1/4 cup flat leaf parsley, chopped
- salt and pepper to taste
- parmesan cheese for garnish
Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil and cook spaghetti according to box instructions. While the pasta is cooking, make the sauce.
In a large saute pan, over medium heat, heat the oil for a minute or so and add the garlic. Cook for 2-3 minutes until golden. Add the pepper flakes and cook for another minute or so. Add tomatoes and cook for about 8 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the herbs and stir to combine and season with salt and pepper. Once the pasta is done, drain it and add it to the sauce, tossing to coat with the sauce. Remove from heat. Garnish with herbs and grated parmesan. Serve immediately.
Servings: 6[post_title] => Spaghetti Fra Diavolo [post_excerpt] => [post_status] => publish [comment_status] => open [ping_status] => open [post_password] => [post_name] => spaghetti-fra-diovolo [to_ping] => [pinged] => [post_modified] => 2014-08-27 12:04:07 [post_modified_gmt] => 2014-08-27 16:04:07 [post_content_filtered] => [post_parent] => 0 [guid] => http://saltykitchen.bangordailynews.com/2014/08/27/recipes/spaghetti-fra-diovolo/ [menu_order] => 0 [post_type] => post [post_mime_type] => [comment_count] => 0 [filter] => raw [image] => Array (  => http://saltykitchen.bangordailynews.com/wp-content/blogs.dir/204/files/2014/08/diovolo2-450x337.jpg  => 450  => 337  => 1 ) [image_thumb] => Array (  => http://saltykitchen.bangordailynews.com/wp-content/blogs.dir/204/files/2014/08/diovolo2-300x300.jpg  => 300  => 300  => 1 ) ) ) [last_updated] => 1409140850 )  => Array ( [name] => Journeys Over a Hot Stove [description] => Humorous stories/anecdotes from my travels around the country, with simple, delicious recipes. [url] => http://hotstove.bangordailynews.com [image] => [blog_image] => [bdn_syndicate] => Array ( [active] => 1 [promoted] => 1 [category] => 4699 [blog_category] => food [region] => 599 [bdn_blogger_headshot] => http://hotstove.bangordailynews.com/files/2013/12/NWBioPic1-copy2.jpg [category_name] => stdClass Object ( [term_id] => 4699 [name] => Food [slug] => food [term_group] => 0 [term_taxonomy_id] => 8932 [taxonomy] => category [description] => [parent] => 74 [count] => 425 ) ) [posts] => Array (  => WP_Post Object ( [ID] => 1186 [post_author] => 13092 [post_date] => 2014-08-24 16:41:17 [post_date_gmt] => 2014-08-24 20:41:17 [post_content] =>
Dinner should be moist.My wife and I and two friends went to one of our favorite eateries the other night (a fake picture of which is posted above) and, as fate would have it, we all ordered enchiladas with rice and refried beans. Long (too long) after some wine and a delicious appetizer of spicy shrimp, out came the four identical plates of enchiladas, rice and beans. We were about to dive in, but oddly enough we all simultaneously fell silent as we looked at our dinners. Everything looked, well, dryish. In fact, dry. I tasted the refried beans, which had the appearance of caked mud under a blistering sun, and muttered two words under my breath. "Volcanic ash." The others asked me to repeat the phrase. "Volcanic ash," I offered with a bit more oomph, eliciting a chuckle or two. In Hawaii the lava I was envisioning is called aa, the crunchy flaky kind, but here in our homey favorite restaurant it was a tragic condition for refried beans to be in. I sampled the "rice." I found it crispy enough to make cracking sounds in my teeth. Saharan rice! The others fiddled with their food, but it became obvious none of us was very impressed with this display of cruel desiccation, and soon enough one of us got up to alert the waitress that the refried beans, at the least, could use some expert attention and maybe a garden hose. What we surmised, being familiar with restaurant practices, was that the plates of food must have been baking under heat lamps long enough to dehydrate them into a state of mummification. And sadly, the main event, the enchiladas, weren't much better. Crispy on the outside, but very much like dried laundry on the inside. Since I launched the blog last December, every single food I've talked about has the same palate-appealing characteristic: moisture. Oysters are moist (try saying that a few times!). Welsh rarebit is exceptionally moist. Even classic French bread boules harbor a pleasing sense of lingering dewiness inside. Unless you're talking about potato chips or Triscuits or nuts or things of that nature, food on a plate should be just a wee bit soggy. Moistest So, not to belabor the point and pummel a particularly odd-sounding word to death, but if we've all finally accepted umami as an actual genuine "taste," (along with salty, bitter, sweet, and sour) - first offered up by Professor Kikunae Ikeda more than 100 years ago as having real chemical legitimacy closely akin to monosodium glutamate - then I think it's time we added a sixth component to "taste" that makes the tongue respond with pleasure and delight the way it never could to volcanic ash or dried laundry. So, yes, food needs to be damp. (all photos by me...except the restaurant photo)
Littlenecks, cherrystones, whatever, they're all Quahogs
Quahogs are one of my favorite things, especially as shown above - freshly harvested, not over-rinsed, briny, ice cold and served with lemon and cocktail sauce. But also baked with toppings, or in a brothy chowder with sauteed onions, potatoes, butter, and salt pork or bacon.
Some people think littleneck clams are their own species, but of course they're just small quahogs - those that happen to be less than 2.5" in diameter. Cherrystones are also smallish quahogs, running from 2.5 to 3" in diameter. Any clam bigger than that finally gets its real name - quahog - or chowder clams (my parents called them "gaggers," which never sat very well with me, especially while we were eating them). They're all quahogs, they're knee-deep in soft sand at low tide from Florida to Newfoundland, and I've hunted them most of my child-and-adult life (in summer) not with a rake but by wiggling my toes until I felt their large hard, rounded shells a few inches under the sand. This is where toes know what a rake can't.
Surprise, the ocean quahog is the longest-lived non-colonial animal in the world (coral, for instance, is a colonial animal). In 2006, fisherman off Iceland found a quahog that was later determined to have started life in 1499. It was 507 years old and named "Ming" after the Chinese dynasty of 1499. I think it ended up in a chowder somewhere. I can't imagine eating anything that old, no matter how delicious.
My grandmother served us quahog chowder when I was little, with clams considerably younger than Ming, and I picked up the baton sometime in my early 30s, as I recall, and finally got it right. This is the real old-timey brothy quahog chowder that you won't find in any restaurant I've ever been to, and it's buttery and salty and bristling with umami.
The trick to it is finding quahogs. They are around here, but not harvested so often. I'll leave that up to you.
Grandma's quahog chowderYou'll need, for about 3 quarts of chowder (for 6-8 people):
- 30-40 large quahogs and their liquor
- 5-6 tbsps. butter
- 2 large onions, chopped
- 3 yellow potatoes, diced (about 3 cups)
- (fish or clam stock, if you need it)
- bacon or salt pork or both
- black pepper, cayenne pepper
- milk or Half and Half, to taste
- 2 pounds cooked, picked lobster meat, cut into bite sized chunks
- 1 pound cavatelli pasta (fresh if you can find it)
- 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
- 2 shallots, finely chopped
- 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
- 1 cup of chicken stock (alternatively you can make your own lobster stock)
- 1/2 cup of white wine
- 8 ounces fresh peas (if you must use frozen peas, use the small, flavorful petit pois)
- 1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley, chopped
- 1 1/2 tablespoons fresh thyme, chopped
- 1 1/2 tablespoons fresh chives, chopped
- 1 cup Mascarpone (add even more if you want a creamier texture)
- 1 tablespoon kosher salt
- 2 tablespoons of flour
- Cook the lobsters (if necessary).
- Boil and drain the pasta.
- Boil and drain the peas.
- Heat the oil in a large sauté pan, adding the shallots and garlic.
- After about a minute of cooking, when the shallots and garlic turn translucent, add the white wine and reduce.
- Add the chicken stock (or lobster stock), peas, parsley, thyme, chives, pasta, Mascarpone, and lobster. Simmer until lobster is heated through.
- Spoon in a few tablespoons of flour to thicken and a bit of salt.
- Spoon onto your plates and serve.