Archive for January 2011

Making whole foods sexy – the Italian way (Linguine di farro al sugo di broccoli)

I can’t help it, when I think about whole grains and beans there’s always a bunch of dancing hippies in the image as well. Strange, because I hadn’t even been born in the seventies. But my childhood health store memories left their imprint.

In the early eighties, my dad followed a strict macrobiotic diet to battle rheumatism and he often took me to one of the few organic grocery stores in town. I hated it. I hated the penetrating sour smell, I hated the harsh lighting and endless wooden shelves, I hated the grey complexion and dull hair of the dungaree-wearing customers.

But most of all, I hated the food.

One bite of their bread felt like a steady rock in your tummy. The meat alternatives like seitan and tofu were awfully spongy, the germs of the brown rice got stuck between your teeth and worst of all, the ‘good for you’ candy was really good for no one.

Today it’s a bit more cheerful at organic and health food stores, but to say that they’ve had a complete make-over is an exaggeration (there are exceptions, like Marqt in Holland and of course, Whole Foods). A walk down the aisles is still a trip down memory lane. Please producers, update your packaging!


I’m always trying to eat wisely but I don’t need my food to remind me all the time how healthy it is for me. Spaghetti that takes forever to chew, beans that make your mouth dry, crackers that leave your palate gritty. Ugh.

Now that I’m training for the Paris marathon I’m extra careful with what I eat. Die-hard runners have advised me to eat lots and lots of protein-packed beans and good carb grains like buckwheat or spelt. And it’s surprisingly easy. Being in Italy helps. Here, legumes are not ‘health food’, they’re just food. At any market you’ll find an abundance of all sorts of dried beans, and the sheer sight of them makes me happy.

As a legacy of poverty, most regional cuisines excel in making simple foods sexy. For decades, nonna’s and mamma’s have cooked and served cannellini, fave, lentils or orzo and mixed them with some delicate funghi, a few cubes of crisp pancetta or shavings of parmigiano. And of course, always topped with a good glug of the virginiest extra virgin olive oil.

I recently found these linguine di farro (spelt pasta). Mixed with a velvety sauce of ricotta and broccoli, it’s as sexy as super healthy can get.

Linguine di farro al sugo di broccoli (Spelt pasta with broccoli sauce)

Serves 2

  • 200 gram linguine di farro (spelt pasta or any other whole grain pasta)
  • 1 broccoli crown (about 300-400 grams)
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1 garlic clove, minced
  • 1 small yellow onion, diced
  • 1 cup ricotta (about 150 grams), grated
  • 1 small handful of pecorino romano
  • 1 small handful of pine nuts

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil for the pasta.

Cut the broccoli into small florets (about 2 cm), also peel and cube the stalk (if you like)

In a medium sauté pan, heat olive oil over medium heat and add garlic and onion. Soften for 5 minutes, be careful not to burn them.

In a small sauté pan, toast pine nuts over low heat. Toss frequently. Again, be very careful not to burn them. Once golden brown, transfer to a plate.

Steam or boil the broccoli in little water until done. This should take about 5 to 7 minutes. They’re done once you can easily stick a fork in, but the florets shouldn’t be falling apart. Drain and set aside.

In a high hand mixer cup or large bowl, blend ricotta, pecorino and two thirds of broccoli to a fine paste. Season with salt and freshly grated pepper.

Add the pasta to the boiling water and cook for 5-7-minutes until al dente.

Over low heat, add broccoli paste to the onion and garlic. Stir and liquify with a few tablespoons of the pasta water. The sauce should still be thick, but not pasty.

Add the pasta, mix well. Add the remaining broccoli florets. Ladle into two bowls, sprinkle with pine nuts, a bit of grated pecorino and a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil. Serve immediately.

Picture courtesy of Luis Herrera. Thanks again, Luisito!

What’s so boring about vanilla? (Shrimp in vanilla-wine sauce)

I was doing some research on vanilla lately and stumbled upon ‘vanilla sex’. I’d never heard about it before. The term is used to describe ordinary lovemaking, as opposed to getting it on in much more inventive, kinky ways. Vanilla is sweet and comforting, thus incredibly boring, say those who favor spicier varieties. They are the same people who are always looking for something new. I have news for them: vanilla can be extremely surprising.

Those who coined the term must have been referring to artificial vanilla. Dull, uninspired, fake. But ‘vanilla sex’ is a terrible insult to real vanilla. There is no spice more enigmatic and sensual than the prized vanilla pod. It reveals its multidimensional taste slowly, like a seductive undressing act, but lingers long and languidly. Even the name of the spice is sensual, if you may believe Wikipedia. The Spanish explorers called it vainilla, or ‘little pod’, a diminutive that shares the etymological roots with the Latin ‘vagina’.

Vanilla plays a starring role in many unforgettable desserts, but it works wonderfully in savory dishes as well. With seafood such as shrimp or lobster it’s pure magic. Other than you may think, they don’t make a sweet couple, but just have an incredibly chemistry together.

Like the best vanilla sex, this dish is lush, exuberant yet comforting and tender. I can assure you, eating it will be an orgasmic experience.

Shrimp in vanilla-wine sauce

Serves 4 as a starter

  • 400 gram large shrimp
  • 1 cup dry white wine (about 2 dl)
  • ½ vanilla pod
  • 2 tablespoons butter (unsalted)
  • 2 small shallots, chopped as finely as possible
  • 1 tablespoon lemon juice
  • 3-4 tablespoons heavy cream
  • fresh ground black pepper and salt
  • 1 teaspoon maple syrup
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil for frying
  • Fresh parsley, coarsely chopped

Clean and devein the shrimp, but keep the shells. Refrigerate the shrimp. In a wok, stir-fry the shells and heads over high heat until they start to turn red. Add 2 tablespoons of water, fry one minute more and strain to extract a shrimp ‘broth’. Set aside.

In a small sauté or saucepan, bring the wine to a boil and turn off. Add the vanilla pod and let it steep for 5 minutes until soft. Remove the vanilla pod, slice it open and scrape out the seeds. Put seeds and pod back into the pan and set aside for 20 minutes so the flavors can blend.

In a medium sauté pan, slowly melt 1 tablespoon butter and add the shallots. Let them soften for 5 minutes, make sure they don’t go brown. Add wine (remove the pod first), lemon juice and shrimp stock, bring everything to a boil and reduce the liquid on low heat to about half the amount. Add the cream and let it reduce further until you have a thick substance. If the sauce appears to be to thick, add some more wine. Add salt and freshly ground pepper to taste and slightly sweeten with maple syrup if you like (the sauce should by no means become too sweet). Turn of the heat, cut up the remaining butter in small pieces and vigorously stir them in, one by one until the sauce is velvety. Keep warm.

In a large wok, heat 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil over high heat. Stir-fry the shrimp until done (about 2 minutes). Add them to the sauce, mix well and serve immediately with chopped parsley.

(vanilla pods: stock picture)

You can also serve this dish with white (coconut) rice as a main dish.

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