Wow. That’s a long title. But when I tried to trim it down, I felt bad about whoever I was leaving out!I’ve been on a scallop kick lately. One of the reasons is...they are delizioso. I do love the flavor, texture, smell...I guess what I’m saying is...I’m a big scallop fan.But the main reason for the recent consummation of scallops is...
They’re on sale at a local grocery called Sprouts. Eight bucks for a one-pound bag of frozen, wild-caught bay scallops from the Gulf of Mexico. Eight bucks! And they really are stinkin’ good.So I’ve been buying a couple bags at a time, I keep them in the freezer for emergencies, in case there’s an earthquake or if I bang my head on the goat shed and need an ice-pack.Bay scallops are the small ones. Sea scallops are the big ones, the ridiculously expensive ones. I don’t know why sea scallops have almost doubled in price lately. Maybe there’s a scallop divers strike that I’m not aware of. Maybe scallops just aren’t having as many children as before.Regardless, sea scallops are costly. But bay scallops ain’t. And I’m really digging the bay scallops, I love the way they taste, they’re wild-caught, they don’t cost a ton of dough, and they’re easy and quick.What’s not to love?
The other night here at the Slim Shack I wanted some pasta. I’ve been getting these cravings. Maybe I’m pregnant. But I’ve been craving pasta lately, so I pulled out a bag of scallops.I had a basil plant in back of the Shack, it’s been doing pretty well despite it being 189 degrees outside. Palm Springs gets hot in the summer. It was so hot the other day here at the Slim Shack that when I milked the goats all that came out was evaporated milk.I usually keep garlic and lemons and white wine handy. And I had some spaghetti, too. And I had some butter, some real good Irish butter that I had splurged on last week.So I thought I’d whip up a quick little something. I put it all together, and it was good, Slim Folks.It was so good I made it again just a few nights later. Just to be sure.And?It’s well-worthy of Slim People.NOTES:The scallops threw off a bit of liquid. It didn’t bother me, it actually made the sauce taste better. It reduced quite nicely! And the flavor, she was a-so nice!Bay scallops are small and don’t take much time at all. Try and get them to sear on each side. It’s tough, but you can do it, Slim People!I put this over pasta. Call me crazy, but I’m a glutton for gluten!But you can serve it as is with some crusty bread to your crusty friends and family. Or you can serve it over rice. Put it on bruschetta, or a pizza, or your pancakes in the morning!INGREDIENTS1 pound bay scallopsFresh cracked black pepper, brown or Turbinado sugar, and salt, a sprinkling of each3 tablespoons butter1 tablespoon olive oil5 garlic cloves, smashed and peeled½ cup dry white wineJuice from one lemon (2 tablespoons, NO SEEDS!)Small handful fresh basil leaves HERE WE GO!Put a sauté pan over medium-high heat.Add 1 tablespoon of butter, and 1 tablespoon of olive oil.When the butter has melted and starts to brown, add the scallops.Cook for 90 seconds or until the bottoms are golden.Stir/flip as best you can!
Cook on the other side for 90 seconds or until golden.Remove with a slotted spoon to a platter.Reduce the heat to medium.Add the garlic, cook for a minute or two, until golden.Flip, cook for another minute or two, until golden.Add the wine and the lemon juice.Turn the heat to high, scrape and stir for a minute or so as the sauce reduces.Turn heat down to medium.Add 2 tablespoons of butter.When it melts, add the scallops.Take the basil, snip it with scissors on top of the scallops.Stir gently for a minute.Turn off the heat.She’s a-done!I put my scallop sauce over pasta, I cooked a half-pound of spaghetti in salted boiling water, drained it, and added it right to the sauce and gave it a toss.She’s a-so nice!MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Chicken with Sun-Dried Tomatoes and Basil
The most popular thing to eat in the USA?Well, the most popular thing to eat is a sandwich. And you can see why…a couple pieces of bread, a few slices of meat and cheese, maybe some lettuce and tomato and you’re done in 5 minutes.But the most popular food we eat here in good ol’ America?Chicken.Chicken!There’s a lot of it, it ain’t expensive, and it’s available almost everywhere. The other day I was at the grocery store and noticed a package of chicken that had “air-chilled” written on the package. It was a little more expensive than the regular chicken. What gives?Then I read an article in Cook’s Illustrated magazine. These guys and gals go way deep into food and cooking and they often get scientific and specific. They do elaborate tests. They don’t accept advertising, which is probably why the magazine costs around $300 a copy.So when they recommend something, it’s been tested and tried and fried every whichaway. And they highly recommend air-chilled chicken.So do I, Slim People. It tastes mo better. Why?Chicken needs to be chilled to be safe to eat. In Europe, they chill chickens with air. In the US, most chicken is chilled by soaking it in cold water, water that’s sometimes…chlorinated.Nice.But air-chilled chicken is cooled by purified air, the chicken moves along tracks as it gets blown with frigid air. Kinda like going up an escalator in a mall during the summer.Because the chicken is cooled by air and not in water, it cooks better, tastes better, looks better. It’s juicy, Lucy! The difference was noticeable to me, and I’m no chicken expert. Although I am considering a career move…In this recipe, I used sun-dried tomatoes packed in oil. Olive oil, preferably. Anything except motor oil.I’ve done this dish two ways, one with fresh basil, and one with thyme. If you use basil, you’ll need a small handful. You’ll need less thyme…
INGREDIENTS3 tablespoons olive oil½ cup flourSalt and fresh-cracked black pepper4 chicken cutlets (2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts, sliced in half)2 tablespoons butter4 cloves garlic, smashed and peeled¼ cup dry white wine½ cup sun-dried tomatoes, cut into small piecesFresh basil (a ¼ cup, leaves snipped or torn) or fresh thyme (a big tablespoon, chopped)HERE WE GO…Put the olive oil in a sauté pan big enough to hold all 4 cutlets.Turn the heat to medium-high.Put the flour on a plate (I use a pie plate).Sprinkle in some salt and fresh-cracked black pepper, about ½ teaspoon each, and mix.Put a cutlet in the flour, dust both sides, and put it in the sauté pan.Do this with all 4 cutlets.Sprinkle a little salt and some fresh cracked black pepper on top of each cutlet, press it in!Let the cutlets cook undisturbed for 4 minutes, or until pale gold on the bottom.Flip ‘em over!Cook on the other side for 4 minutes or until pale gold.
Remove them to a plate.Turn the heat down to medium.With a wooden spoon, gently scrape off any tidbits stuck to the bottom of the pan.Add the butter.Swirl it around, let it melt.Add the garlic, and swirl it around for a minute or two.When the garlic is pale gold, add the white wine and swirl for a minute or so.Add the sun-dried tomatoes and give it a stir for a minute or two.Add the basil or the thyme and stir.Dish it up! Make it look good. Pour some sauce over the cutlets, garnish with a basil leaf or sprig of thyme, and…MANGIAMO!
Slim Man Cooks Another Tomato Sauce
When I first started making tomato sauce, I minced the garlic. Then, one night, a Lady People friend of mine didn’t want minced garlic, she wanted sliced garlic, so that’s what I started doing.Then, I was making a tomato sauce for some meatballs for a restaurant in Palm Springs, Californy, where I was singing, and I thought it might be mo’ better if I used whole smashed cloves, so people could remove them more easily if they wanted.Because, if some octagenarian was eating a meatball, and got a whole clove of garlic stuck in their choppers and had a heart attack, that might not be good for business.So now I use whole, smashed garlic cloves when I make a tomato sauce. And you know what? It tastes better, and the fussy people can pick them out if they want.This tomato sauce is your go-to sauce and I’ll tell you why. You need a simple sauce when you’re making manicotti, eggplant parmigiana, or pizza, things like that. You load up your tomato sauce with a ton of stuff like carrots or celery or onion or oregano and all of a sudden you got too many flavors going on when you add it to something else.And sometimes a simple tomato sauce is great over pasta. My favorite pre-show dish is this sauce with penne rigate.So if you come up and say hi after a Slim Show, and I’ve got the old garlic breath kicking, you’ll know why.NOTES:I’ve been using Cento Italian tomatoes, they come in a 35-ounce can. I like them because they taste great, and the cans are lined, and I’ve been hearing some weird stuff about aluminum cans these days.Most Italian tomatoes come in 28-ounce cans. So, if you’re using 28-ounce cans, use two. I don’t think you’ll need to increase anything, there’s enough garlic here to keep vampires away for years. But if you want to add a little more garlic--or salt or basil--go ahead, Slim People!INGREDIENTSItalian tomatoes (one 35-ounce can, or two 28-ounce cans)8 cloves garlic3 tablespoons olive oilCrushed red pepper to taste (I use a ½ teaspoon)Salt (I use coarse Kosher, about a teaspoon)Fresh basil leaves (a bunch, a small handful)HERE WE GO!
Put your tomatoes in a large bowl. Smoosh them with your hands, dig in with your mitts and squeeze the tomatoes. Remove any funky-looking stuff…skin, stalks, and especially that yellow stringy stem in the center of each tomato. Smoosh until smoovy-smoov.Take a garlic clove, smash it with the broad side of a knife. Smash it good and flat! Remove the skin.Put the olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium-low heat, and add the crushed red pepper, let it heat up for a minute or two.Add the smashed garlic, let it cook for a couple minutes. DON’T LET THE GARLIC BURN! It tastes nasty when it does.When the underside turns pale gold, turn over each clove, and sauté on the other side for a couple of minutes until pale gold. PALE, Slim Folks!Then, turn the heat to high, and add the tomatoes.Add the salt.Take a half-dozen basil leaves, snip them with scissors, right into the sauce.Give it a stir.When the sauce begins to bubble and boil, turn the heat down to low, and let it simmer for 20 minutes, stirring every couple of minutes. Be gentle, SlimNation. Gentle and kind.After 20 minutes, take a few more basil leaves, and snip them right into the sauce with your scissors, give it a stir, and taste for salt and adjust.There ya go! Use this sauce over pasta, or use it with manicotti, eggplant parmigiano, pizza, bruschetta, and…
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Pesto Chicken Thighs
I love thighs. Let’s face it people, thighs are lovely. Whether you’re talking about a piece of chicken, or the female anatomy, thighs are the best.They’re soft. Kinda sexy. Juicy.Chicken breasts? They tend to dry out when you’re cooking them. They’re really good for some things, like cutlets and Milanese and chicken piccata, but in general, I prefer chicken thighs.I also love pesto. I got a little sick of it when my dad--we called him Paps--made so much pesto we were using it on our cornflakes in the morning. But after I got over my overdose of pesto, I started really enjoying it.Pesto is so good for so many things. You can put it on a piece of salmon, you can put a dollop in soup, you can put a tablespoon or two in an omelette. You can use it as a hair gel! Pesto is the best-o.So, I thought I would combine my two loves, pesto and chicken thighs, so I came up with…Pesto chicken thighs! I put the “J” back in genius with this recipe.Some say a thigh is just a thigh, but these pesto chicken thighs are special, delizioso. And quick. And healthy.So let’s dig right in and start cooking. You know, Slim People, sometimes cooking doesn’t have to be all complicated and time-consuming.Sometimes it’s easy. Like this recipe…INGREDIENTS4 chicken thighs, boneless, about a poundOlive oil (a couple tablespoons or so)Salt and fresh-cracked black pepper4 tablespoons of pesto sauce (I make my own, it’s in the Slim Man Cooks cookbook, it’s quick!)
A couple tablespoons of toasted pine nuts (toasted in a dry pan, medium heat, until golden)Here we go!OK, pre-heat your oven to 400 degrees.Take your thighs and rinse them in cold water. Do the same with the chicken thighs. Notice the difference.Pat the chicken thighs with paper towels.Trim off any funkiness, any fat, any leftover bone splinters and such.Put the chicken thighs in a baking dish.Drizzle with some olive oil.Make sure they’re all coated, rub your thighs!Add some salt and fresh-cracked black pepper.Make sure every thigh gets some love.Put the top side of the thighs on the bottom of the baking dish.Put the thighs in the oven for 20 minutes.Take them out, turn them over, and bake for another 10 minutes.When the thighs have come to about 165 degrees (I use a meat thermometer, not the one I use for the dogs) they are done.Take them out of the oven, and turn the oven to broil.Smear about a tablespoon of pesto on top of each chicken thigh. Be smoov!Put them under the broiler for about a minute or two, until the pesto is golden brown.Take them out of the oven, sprinkle with some toasted pine nuts.Put them on a platter, garnish with a sprig of basil, serve with a hunk of crusty bread, or my tomato salad, or both, and…
MANGIAMO!
Chicken and Eggplant Parmigiano
Chicken Eggplant ParmigianoWomen have helped me be more creative with my cooking.Not so much with the recipes, but with their peculiarities.For instance, Selma Krapoff, our Head of Slim Merch, is on a new kick. She wants protein with every meal. And nothing can be fried. Not even sautéed.So when I had a craving for eggplant Parmigiano, I had to get creative. I didn't want to cook two dishes. I racked my brain, what’s left of it. Then it hit me like a frying pan. Or maybe it was Selma who hit me with the frying pan. The light went on above my horsehead, and I knew what I had to do.I decided to make chicken and eggplant Parmigiano! Ain’t I smart? I did a layer of eggplant, a layer of broiled chicken breasts, and a layer of eggplant, instead of just three layers of eggplant.I put in the tomato sauce, mozzarella, Parmigiano and basil with each layer, of course.Then I baked it for about 20 minutes.It was so good. Selma loved it.Then she yelled at me because she ate too much. She told me that if I didn’t cook stuff that tasted so good, she wouldn’t have to worry about getting fat.
Chicken and Eggplant ParmigianoYour breasts and the eggplant should be about the same size. So should the chicken breasts.I bought 2 chicken breasts and cut each in half horizontally, I had 4 cutlets about ½” thick. Then I cut them in half vertically, so I had 8 small cutlets about ½" thick.Then I sliced the eggplant into circular slices, about ½” thick.NOTE:You only have to broil the chicken for a couple minutes per side. It will bake with the eggplant for another 20 minutes in the oven, so you don’t have to worry about salmonella.I hope.Seriously, Slim People? Clean everything that touches raw chicken with warm, soapy water. Or a powerwasher.You gotta keep it clean.INGREDIENTS3 eggs3 cups panko breadcrumbs (or whatever breadcrumbs you like!)Salt and pepper2 medium eggplant, ends trimmed off, sliced into ½” circular slices
2 large boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 1 pound) each sliced in horizontally in half; you should have 4 cutlets about ½” thick. Cut each in half vertically, now you got 8 cutlets, each ½" thick, capisce?3 cups of tomato sauce (make your own, it’s so easy and takes just 25 minutes!)1 pound mozzarella, cut into circular slices1 cup fresh-grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese¾ cup of fresh, clean basilHERE WE GO…Pre-heat your oven to 400 degrees.Put the eggs in a bowl (I used a glass pie dish), add salt and pepper, and mix ‘em up!Spread the breadcrumbs out on a large platter (I used another pie dish).Dip an eggplant slice in the egg, then press each side into the breadcrumbs.Place on a non-stick baking pan.Do this with all the eggplant slices.Put the pan in the oven on the second-lowest rack, let the eggplant cook on one side for 12 minutes, or until golden brown.
Flip each slice over and cook for another 12 minutes or so.Remove.Turn the oven to broil.Take a piece of chicken.Dip it into the egg.Then press each side into the breadcrumbs.Do this with all the chicken.Place it under the broiler, on the second rack. You don’t want it too close, or it will burn.After 2 minutes, or when golden brown, turn over.Cook on the other side for 2 minutes or until golden brown.Remove from the oven.Get a glass baking dish--I used an 9X13-inch dish.Put a layer of eggplant on the bottom.Add a cup of tomato sauce, spread it around evenly.Add ¼ cup of the basil, snip it with scissors evenly on top.Add 1/3 cup of Parmigiano, spread evenly.Add 1/3 cup of mozzarella slices, spread evenly.
Add a layer of chicken cutlets.Add a cup of tomato sauce.Add ¼ cup of basil, snipped on top.Add 1/3 cup Parmigiano.Add 1/3 cup of mozzarella.Here we go! Final layer!Add a layer of eggplant.Add a cup of tomato sauce.Add ¼ cup basil, snipped on top.Add 1/3 cup of Parmigiano.Add the final 1/3 cup of mozzarella.
Turn the oven to 350 degrees.Put the dish in the oven on the middle rack.Let the eggplant and chicken bake for 20 minutes.Put the oven on broil.Put the dish under the broiler FOR A MINUTE! Keep your eye on these guys, you want the cheese golden brown, not burnt!Remove from the broiler and let it sit for 5 or 10 minutes.Then, cut it up, dish it out, maybe sprinkle a little freshly-grated Parmigiano on top of each serving, maybe garnish with a fresh basil leaf or two, and…
MANGIAMO!
Slim Man Cooks Roasted Vegetable Lasagna
On Christmas Day, 1999, I sang for Pope John Paul II at the Vatican.When you read that first line, you might get the impression that I was strumming my guitar at the Pope’s bedside, singing Christmas songs as he dozed off to sleep.That ain’t what happened.A friend of mine called from LA. She was putting a choir together to sing two pieces of music written for Pope John Paul II. She was familiar with my music, and thought I might like to be included as a vocalist. Yes, indeed!Both pieces were going to be performed at the Vatican on Christmas Day, 1999, the last Christmas of the 20th century. She asked me to be in the choir, to sing for the Pope.You can’t say “nope” to the Pope.I drove over to my uncle Oscar’s house, not far from my hometown of Baltimore, Maryland. I told him what was going on – I was flying to Rome for Christmas to sing for the Pope. He was so happy, you would have thought I’d just cured erectile dysfunction.Oscar insisted on paying for my hotel as a Christmas gift. He wanted me to stay at the Excelsior, a swanky, luxurious, elegant hotel in the heart of Rome. Fellini shot part of a movie there, La Dolce Vita.A few days before Christmas, I flew to Rome. I had never been before. When I checked into the hotel, I was dazzled. It was beautiful. Elegant. I didn’t get to see much of the hotel, though. Most of my days were spent at rehearsals. The two pieces of music we were doing for the Pope were called “Magnificat” and “cantata Giubileo.”“Magnificat,” was written by Beppe Cantarelli, an Italian guy who had written songs for Aretha and Mariah Carey. “Magnificat” is truly magnificent, one of my favorite pieces of choral music.“cantata Giubileo” was written by Maurice Jarre, a pretty famous and serious film composer. He won three Academy Awards for the music he wrote for Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago, and A Passage to India.Giubileo is the Italian word for “Jubilee.” Every 25 years, the Roman Catholic Church celebrates Giubileo. Cantare is the Italian word for “sing.” In other words, “cantata Giubileo” was supposed to be a joyous piece of vocal music.It was a difficult piece of music – difficult to sing and difficult to like. There were so many key changes, time signature changes, and tempo changes. To top it off, the choir had to sing the word “peace” in 33 different languages.I like to joke a lot. But I ain’t kidding, Maurice wanted us to learn how to sing “peace” in 33 languages. There were about 50 people in the choir, men and women, mostly from LA; a mixed bag of gospel singers, pop singers, R&B singers, and one lonely jazz guy - me. We were called the Millennium Choir.We rehearsed in the Sala Nervi, the concert hall that had just been built next to St. Peter’s Basilica. Sala Nervi was amazing. The acoustics, the mile-high ceilings, the marble floors, the masses of stained glass – they didn’t get this stuff at Home Depot. Sala Nervi was really and truly stunning.The orchestra was down in front in the pit. The choir was on stage in a semi-circle, on raised stands. I stood next to a well-dressed black guy, who introduced himself as Darryl Phinnesse. His claim to fame was that he had written the lyrics to the theme song for the TV show Fraser.I always wondered about the lyric in that song “tossed salads and scrambled eggs.” I asked Darryl about it. He explained that “tossed salads and scrambled eggs” meant crazy people, people who were mixed up.I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it.Rehearsals for “Magnificat” were magnificent. The choir, the orchestra — everybody connected with that piece of music in a big way. It sounded glorious. To sing that incredible song, with a full choir and orchestra, in that amazing hall - I could have sung it a hundred times in a row.But “cantata Giubileo”? Both the choir and orchestra were having a tough time. Even when we got it right, it didn’t sound right – it sounded like an orchestra tuning up. Cacophonous.Maurice Jarre was not happy. He didn’t look like a real happy guy to begin with.One night, after rehearsal, I was at the hotel bar in the Excelsior, singing “Blue Christmas”, when a very stylish Italian guy came over and told me he liked my voice, told me I sounded like Elvis. I had been studying Italian for months. I knew enough to get around, especially when someone was talking about The King.He asked me my name. I was gonna say Slim Man, but I told him my real name. When he heard me say “Camponeschi” his eyes lit up. He told me about Ristorante Camponeschi in Rome. He told me I had to go there. He introduced himself. Federico.Federico called me in my room the next morning to tell me he had made a reservation. Which was very nice - a little bit strange, but nice. How did he find out which room I was in? I thanked him, hung up, and promptly forgot about it. I showered, dressed, and got in a taxi. I told the cab driver to take me to the Vatican. When he asked me why I was going there, I told him I was going to sing for the Pope. He laughed. I guess it did sound like a joke.Rehearsal that day was no joke. “cantata Giubeleo” was still not sounding right. Maurice worked us hard. Towards the end of the long day, Maurice stopped the choir to yell at us. He was a fiery Frenchman, and he wasn’t happy with the way his masterpiece was sounding.In the middle of his hollering, I noticed a guy walking across the marble floor. He was about 100 yards away, but you could hear his footsteps echo in the hall, getting louder as he got closer.The guy stopped next to Maurice Jarre. He was dressed in a suit and tie with overcoat. He looked like a hit man. Maurice stopped yelling.The guy said, to no one in particular, that he was looking for Signore Camponeschi. I looked around. There were no other Camponeschis. I raised my hand. He motioned for me to go with him. I had no idea what was going on. Maybe the Pope wanted me to make him some meatballs.The orchestra, the choir, Maurice - everyone stood and stared in silence as I stepped down from the choir stand, walked off the stage, and followed the guy out of the Sala Nervi, our footsteps fading in the grand hall. We walked outside and the guy opened the back door of a Mercedes limo. I got in.I knew he wasn’t gonna kill me — he wouldn’t have abducted me in front of 100 witnesses if he were. But I was a bit curious as to where I was going. When I’d ask, he’d say “Camponeschi.”Ten minutes later, we pulled up in front of the French Embassy. I was really confused, until I saw a sign across the street from the Embassy. Ristorante Camponeschi. We walked in.I couldn’t have had a better reception if I were the Pope. They had everything but a brass band playing the national anthem. Alessandro Camponeschi and his Dad, Marino, owned the place, and they greeted me with hugs, and treated me like a long lost son.My grandfather, Romollo Camponeschi, was born in Rome. It's quite possible that Alessandro and I might be related. But what a welcome, regardless.Ristorante Camponeschi is very elegant. Alessandro and Marino wouldn’t let me order from the menu. I must have had 100 courses. They brought soups, salads and appetizers, lobsters, champagne and desserts as well as flaming liqueurs.When your name is Slim Man, it’s not a good thing to stuff yourself like I did.After dinner, I gave a warm goodbye to Alessandro and Marino. The Mercedes limo was waiting for me outside. He gave me a quick ride back to the Excelsior. I thanked him, walked inside, and went to sleep.I found out the next day that Federico had made all the arrangements – the limo pick-up from the Vatican, the dinner, the limo ride home. All because he liked the way I sang “Blue Christmas.” Long Live The King!On Christmas morning, I got all dressed up in my tuxedo. It took me a while to get my bow tie tied – I didn’t want to use a clip-on for the Pope! I caught a cab to the Vatican, and got ready for the Big Show. We took the stage, the lights went dim and…The concert was amazing. The choir sounded great, so did the orchestra, and it all went really well — both pieces of music sounded exquisite. I was concentrating so hard on the sheet music, on getting everything right, that I really didn’t have time to look around, and soak it all in.I didn't even notice where Pope John Paul was sitting. He could have started a mosh pit and I wouldn’t have noticed.But after the concert, as I walked by, the Pope gave me a chest bump and a high five, and let me try on his hat.Just joking. Lord, forgive me!After the concert, I walked out of the Sala Nervi into the chilly Christmas night and it was breathtaking. The streets of Rome were jam-packed with people, the church bells were ringing, voices were singing, the Christmas lights were twinkling, all the streetlamps were decorated, and it was glorious.Absolutely glorious.Roasted Vegetable Lasagna
I wanted to make a lasagna that was…Slim, so to speak. So I skipped the ricotta cheese, and just roasted some vegetables.The first time I cooked this I used no-cook lasagna noodles in a 9x13 dish. The lasagna fit in the dish perfectly, but I didn’t like ‘em. I know a lot of people use them. To me, no-cook lasagna don’t taste right.I really prefer to boil the lasagna the old school way. In boiling water. What a concept. I boiled my lasagna noodles according to the instructions on the package, and they turned out so nice! It didn’t add any additional time, I cooked the lasagna noodles as the vegetables roasted.I used an 8x11 glass baking dish, because the traditional lasagna noodles fit perfectly in there. I used 9 sheets of lasagna--3 layers of 3.I was gonna cook a tomato sauce for this, but then, in a stroke of genius, I decided to do a no-cook tomato sauce. When I usually cook a tomato sauce, I cook it for 25 minutes.I figured, the tomato sauce was gonna bake in the oven with the lasagna for 25 minutes anyway, why cook the sauce beforehand. Capisce?It saved a lot of time and effort, but the best thing about this no-cook tomato sauce? It tasted so fresh. Funky fresh!You’ll need 3 generous cups of tomato sauce. You can use bottled sauce, but my no-cook tomato sauce takes no time!I found some organic mini-bell peppers on sale. They were beautiful--red, yellow and orange and added a nice color and flavor to this dish. If you can’t find mini-bell peppers, you can use a regular orange, yellow or red bell pepper, or a combination of all three. Whatever combination you use, you’ll need to end up with a cup and a half, chopped.I found some multi-colored heirloom grape tomatoes on sale. They, too, were colorful and delizioso. And not expensive. I cut them in half, squeezed the seeds out, and they worked perfectly.Cippolini onions are sweeter and milder than normal onions. They’re good for roasting, and you can find them in normal grocery stores. If you can’t find cippolini onions, use shallots instead.I always clean my vegetables. I clean everything. You gotta keep it clean, Slim People.INGREDIENTS
For the lasagna:3 cups (2 medium) zucchini cut in ¼ inch circular slices1 ½ cups small cippolini onions (6), peeled and quartered1 ½ cups red, yellow and orange bell peppers, cored, seeded, cut into 1-inch pieces5 tablespoons olive oil4 cups (8 ounces) sliced portobello mushroom caps, 1/8 inch thick, cut into 1-inch pieces3 cups (2 small) yellow squash cut in ¼ inch circular slices3 cups grape tomatoes, cut in half, insides/seeds squeezed out1 package lasagna noodles (at least 9 sheets)¼ cup basil, loosely packed, snipped with scissors or chopped gently—it bruises!1 pound (or more!) mozzarella cheese, you’ll need 1 ½ cups shredded, plus 12 circular ¼ inch slices½ cup fresh grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheeseKosher salt and fresh cracked black pepperINGREDIENTSFor the no-cook tomato sauce:1 twenty-eight ounce can crushed Italian tomatoes (San Marzano are best, $3.99 a can)1 tablespoon minced garlic¼ cup basil leaves, loosely packed, snipped with scissors or chopped gently!½ teaspoon kosher salt¼ teaspoon crushed red pepperCombine all the ingredients, stir, set aside. Taste for salt and pepper and adjust. This should make about 3 or 4 cups. How easy was that?Here we go…Pre-heat your oven to 400 degrees.Put your zucchini, onion and peppers in a bowl, drizzle with a tablespoon or two of olive oil, add some kosher salt and fresh-cracked black pepper, and toss.Get a large metal baking pan, line it with aluminum foil. Add the zucchini and onions and peppers to the pan.Put your portobello mushrooms and yellow squash in the bowl. Add a tablespoon or two of olive oil, some kosher salt and fresh-cracked black pepper, and toss.Get another large metal baking pan, line it with aluminum foil. Add the portobello mushrooms and yellow squash to the pan.Put both pans in the oven, as close to the middle as possible, and roast for 25 minutes. As the vegetables roast…Take your 2 cups of halved grape tomatoes, put them in a bowl. Add a tablespoon of olive oil, some kosher salt and fresh-cracked black pepper and toss. Set aside.Now, for the lasagna noodles. Get a large pot, fill it full of cold water, put it on the highest heat ya got. When it comes to a full boil, add 2 tablespoons kosher salt and the lasagna noodles.Cook the lasagna noodles according to the directions on the package. I followed the instructions on a package of Barilla lasagna, I cooked them for 7 minutes.Keep an eye on these guys, make sure they don’t stick together. People should stick together, lasagna shouldn’t. Use tongs. Be gentle. Be kind. But you gotta keep ‘em separated.When the lasagna noodles have cooked according to the instructions, drain gently.I used an 8x11 glass baking dish. The lasagna noodles fit perfectly.Put a generous cup of uncooked tomato sauce in the bottom, spread around evenly.Add 3 pieces of lasagna, lay like shingles, overlapping—just a touch!Add the roasted zucchini, peppers and onions.Add a cup of tomato sauce.Add ¾ cup shredded mozzarella, spread evenly and judiciously.Add 3 more pieces of lasagna, layering like shingles.Add the roasted yellow squash and portobellos. Spread ‘em out even.Add a cup of tomato sauce, spread evenly.Add ¾ cup of shredded mozzarella, evenly—capisce?Add another layer of lasagna noodles, 3, lay ‘em down like shingles.Add the halved-tomatoes, distribute evenly. Any part of the lasagna noodles that are exposed, rub with a little olive oil from the bowl that held the tomatoes. This will help keep the noodles from drying out.Stick the baking dish in the oven on the middle rack for 25 minutes.After 25 minutes, remove from the oven.
Sprinkle the ¼ cup of basil leaves on top of the tomatoes. Add the slices of mozzarella, make sure you cover all the tomatoes.Top off with the grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.Turn the oven to broil. Put the lasagna in the oven and KEEP AN EYE ON THESE GUYS. Don’t burn the cheese. You want it to get golden brown. It should only take a MINUTE OR TWO.Maybe three…When the mozzarella is golden and bubbly, remove. Let it sit for 10 minutes.Dish it up! Make it look nice. Sprinkle with some snipped basil leaves, maybe some grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. She’s a-so nice!
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Caprese Salad
I was conceived on the Isle of Capri. That’s what my Mom told me. She would know - I hope!Capri is an island off the coast of Italy. My Dad was in Europe, helping with the reconstruction after World War II. My Mom was with him. On their way back to the USA, my folks stopped in Capri. Lucky for me.I was born in Baltimore, Maryland, soon after my folks arrived from Capri. Couldn’t they have stayed on Capri for a couple more months?My folks loved music. My Dad loved old blues and Dixieland jazz; my Mom loved everything. When I say everything, I mean everything. Miles Davis, Chet Baker, Nat King Cole, Isaac Hayes, Aretha Franklin, Bonnie Raitt, Ella Fitzgerald, The Band, Dylan, Johnny Winter, Joan Baez, Hank Williams, Sr., Stan Getz, Astrud Gilberto, Dave Brubeck, The Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman, Donovan, Dave Grusin, Marvin Gaye, Norah Jones, Anita Baker, Gladys Knight. I could go on and on.I guess I just did.My Mom turned me on to so many great artists. We’d go see shows together; everyone from Gladys Knight and the Pips to Paul Simon. When Paul Simon came to town, she bought a couple tickets. When the young guy sitting in front of us stood up and started doing the hippy-dippy Grateful Dead dance, she pulled him by his shirt back into his seat and quietly told him to sit down.Dayuummm, Ma! Making me look bad! The guy sat quietly for the rest of the show. My Mom was quiet, but strong.
My Mom didn’t have a lot of dough, but she’d treat herself to music—she always had a nice stereo, and went to see concerts. I remember her going to see Bonnie Raitt when she was playing local college gymnasiums. My Mom would drive to Annapolis, Maryland, to see Charlie Byrd play jazz guitar at the King of France Tavern.My Mom had a lovely voice, sweet and clear with a natural vibrato. She would put on some music, and cook dinner and sing along. Then, we’d have dinner and read cookbooks—looking for new recipes to try. She loved music and loved cooking.She grew up poor in Eastport, which at the time was a ghetto across the bridge from Annapolis, Maryland, which was home to the Naval Academy, where her dad worked as a custodian. My Mom met my Dad in Annapolis; he was going to St. John’s College, and was in a school play. My Mom was also in the play, even though she wasn’t a student. They fell in love, and had us three dimwits. When I was born, we lived with my Dad’s Mom, Angela, in the basement of her house in Baltimore, near Pimlico Racetrack – a thoroughbred horse-racing track that was home of the Preakness Stakes.When I was six, we moved into a house a couple miles away, on a dead-end street named Rosebank. It was a great old house, what they call a “fixer-upper.” It had an upright piano in the dining room. The previous owners had built the room around the piano, and when they moved, they couldn’t get it out. So they left it there. I took the piano apart. I painted it black. I replaced the keys with new ones. I put it back together, and started playing.I was already taking trumpet lessons. Once a week, my Mom would take me down Greenmount Avenue, and I’d study trumpet with Mr. John at a place called Freitag’s. I absolutely loved Herb Alpert, and made Mr. John do all the Tijuana Brass duets with me.I used to read comic books. In the back, they had these advertisements for seeds. No, it wasn’t marijuana seeds. Vegetable seeds. You’d send away for seeds, sell them to your neighbors, and after you sold a certain amount, you could redeem your points for prizes--one of which was a guitar. I learned how to play by ear. It would have been a lot easier if I had used my hands.
There I was, a little kid, learning how to play guitar and piano and trumpet. I can imagine all the horrible sounds my Mom had to put up with. It ain’t fun listening to a kid practice. My first gig was playing guitar and singing Beatles songs at the sixth grade graduation. I was in fifth grade. Roland Park Elementary School. My first gig!When I started my rock band, Momma Max, my Mom let us rehearse in the basement. It must have been incredibly loud upstairs. When I started writing songs, my Mom would type out lyric sheets, and write letters to publishers. When I got rejection letter after rejection letter, my Mom would quietly encourage me to keep going.When I got signed to Motown as a songwriter, my Mom was ecstatic. When one of the first songs I wrote for Motown – “Summer Days” – was recorded by Angela Bofill on her debut CD, my Mom could not have been more proud—she saved all the articles and reviews. When I got offered a record deal with Motown, my Mom’s house was the headquarters while we recorded in Baltimore. When Motown decided not to release the CD, it was my Mom who kept me from jumping off the roof.After my stint at Motown, I started a band called BootCamp. The music was loud, it was rock, and it was making some big noise in the music biz. But I was screaming at the top of my lungs, all night, every night, singing way out of my range.When I lost my voice after all that screaming, when I thought I’d never be able to sing again, it was my Mom who encouraged me to sing low and slow. And that’s what I did after BootCamp broke up. Slim Man was born!When the first Slim Man CD--End of the Rainbow-- was released, my Mom was at the release party. She was about the only one in the joint. Seriously. It was a howling failure. Nobody came out. I was convinced the CD was gonna sink like a stone in the sea.Not my Mom, she kept my spirits up, kept gently encouraging me. When the End of the Rainbow CD started getting airplay, I was playing piano in a dive bar in Baltimore called The Horse You Came In On. My Mom would call the bar on Fridays, and tell me how well the CD was doing on the charts. The CD ended up going Top Ten for the year. My Mom was a huge Slim Man fan. Whenever I played around Baltimore, she’d come see me play. And then she got sick.She had this horrible illness called Supra Nuclear Palsy, a disease where the body’s motors shut down. It becomes hard to move your mouth or tongue; it’s tough to chew or swallow or talk. It’s hard to move your arms or legs. It was difficult for my Mom to even close her eyes to sleep. And yet her mind was still sharp as a razor.My Mom never complained. Not once did I hear her say, “Why me?” I rarely say “never” but I never heard her complain. All she could do was lie in bed and watch TV or listen to music. I once got an advance from a record company; I spent it on a TV and a stereo for my Mom. It was the least I could do after all the hell I’d put her through when I was a teenage idiot.Even when she was sick, she’d get my sister to take her to the Slim Shows. It wasn’t easy, getting her around in the wheelchair, when she couldn’t even move a muscle. But she made it, even when it was snowing.I took care of my Mom the best I could. I brought her food all the time. I called her almost every day, even though she couldn’t talk. I had a jazz radio show in Baltimore on Sunday mornings, I always dedicated the show to my Mom. After the show, I would visit her, bring her a dish, and we’d drink a Bloody Mary and watch old movies. One time, I rented a handicapped van, and took her and the nieces to Pimlico racetrack. Nothing like some horse-racing to take your mind off things!When I got an offer to do a cruise, I was hesitant. I didn’t want to leave my Mom, but she insisted I go. Michael van Droff--who owned a German record company that had released some of my music--organized the concert cruise. I flew to Germany, practiced with the band, and then flew to Jamaica, where the cruise ship was docked. We were going to cruise the Caribbean for a week, cross the Atlantic, and cruise the Mediterranean for a week. Not a bad gig. My first cruise.My first night on the ship was a night off. I had dinner at the huge buffet, and then nestled into my tiny little cabin. Early the next morning I got a phone call.My Mom had died. I was crushed. I was inconsolable. The Germans, they’re a pretty stoic bunch. My grief must have been pretty alarming to them, because they had me off that cruise ship within hours. It was like an evacuation. A small boat picked me up, took me to a small island, where I caught a small cab to a small airport.How small? There was one tiny runway among the palm trees. The terminal had one counter and no walls; just an old rusted tin roof overhead. They had a small sound system that played music in between announcements – which were few and far between. I was pacing; I couldn’t sit still. I had a lump in my throat the size of a basketball. My eyes were swollen and red.
I was staring off into the distance, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened, when a song of mine came over the tiny sound system. How that happened, in that little airport, on that tiny island in the Caribbean, I’ll never know. The song was “Night Like This.”I picked up my cell phone and called the first person I always called when I wanted to share a moment like that. My Mom.Except she was gone.CAPRESE SALADMy Mom was an excellent cook. She prepared all kinds of foods—Indian, Mexican, Italian, French. She once made coq au vin—a French dish of chicken with red wine—for my entire seventh grade French class.
Insalata Caprese--that’s what the Eye-Talians call it--is my favorite salad. Yes, I was conceived on the Isle of Capri, where this recipe comes from, so I am partial. But this salad is so quick, easy and delicious.There is only ONE THING you have to remember.Every ingredient has to be the best.The tomatoes have to be ripe and luscious. The olive oil has to be extra virgin, or at least one that hasn’t been pole-dancing at the club every night.This would be a good time to splurge on bufala mozzarella. Yes, it’s expensive. But it’s really, really good. Take out a second mortgage, if you haven’t already. Break open the kids’ piggy bank. This is the one time to dig deep and fork it over.Bufala mozzarella comes from water buffalos. The scientific name for water buffalo is Bubalus bubalis. Which sounds like something I made up, but didn’t. Bubalus bubalis! Boo-Bah Lish!I used organic heirloom tomatoes. They weren’t expensive, and they were so fresh, ripe and colorful and tasted like heaven.Some people use balsamic vinegar as well as olive oil on their Caprese salad.I prefer using just olive oil. But what the hell do I know?INGREDIENTS2 or 3 heirloom tomatoes, or fresh vine-ripened tomatoes1 large ball of mozzarella — I suggest bufala — about a poundExtra virgin olive oilSalt and fresh-cracked black pepperFresh basil, a handfulHere we goSlice the tomatoes into circular slices, about a ¼ inch thick.Slice the mozzarella the same way.
Grab a small flat plate. We’re going to make individual servings. Put a slice of tomato flat on the plate. Put a slice of mozzarella on top.Grab another slice of tomato, preferably a different color. Lay it on top of the first slice of mozzarella, but down about an inch, so it’s layered, like when you play solitaire. Put a slice of mozzarella on top of the second slice of tomato.One more time! Grab a slice of tomato, lay it down, put a slice of mozzarella on top.If my math is correct, you’ll have three slices of each.Drizzle some olive oil on top.Add some salt and fresh cracked black pepper.Grab some basil leaves and a pair of scissors. Snip some basil right on top of the tomatoes and mozzarella.Make as many individual plates as you can, this usually serves four. Unless you’re in my family --this would feed only one of those monsters.Serve with some crusty bread, and…
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Pap's Pesto
Pesto and Fishing with PapsMy Dad walked into the TV room on the second floor and his head was bleeding. We three kids were trying not to laugh.My Dad had a workbench in the basement. The ceiling was low, and there were two large iron water pipes right behind the work area. When you turned around to go upstairs, you had to duck under the pipes to avoid cracking your skull.My Dad hit his head all the time. You could hear the “BOING!” all the way up on the second floor. It was always followed by a yell,“SUNNUVABITCH!”We three kids thought it was the funniest thing in the world.Maybe it was because we loved the Three Stooges so much. Maybe it was something else. Whatever it was, when our Dad hurt himself, we found it ridiculously funny.We called my Dad "Paps." He was a professor of literature at the State University of New York, and one of his favorite books was The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Huck had an alcoholic father who used to get drunk, beat him and chain him to chairs. Huck called his Dad "Paps." I read the book and thought it would be funny if we called our Dad "Paps", too. It stuck.For the record, our Paps did not get drunk and beat us and chain us to chairs. But I’m sure he might have felt like it when we laughed at his bleeding head.Paps used to take us fishing. It was a lot of fun for us. It couldn’t have been fun for him.Fishing seems like a cruel sport. Somebody finds out what your favorite food is and what time you like to eat. They dangle it front of you, and when you take a bite; they hook you by the lips and drag you around.One summer, my Dad and Mom rented a house near the beach on Fenwick Island, Delaware. It wasn’t fancy; just a simple white cottage on stilts by the Atlantic Ocean. We had the place for a week. There was a boat rental place on the bayside not far from the house.
One sunny summer day, Paps piled us three monsters in the back of the pale green Plymouth station wagon and drove over to the boat rental place. He rented a small wooden boat with an egg-beater engine on the back. He grabbed his rods and reels, the bait, and us three knuckleheads, and we walked out on the pier.There was a boat ramp on the side of the pier. The tide was high, and the ramp was covered in water. People were slowly backing their boats down the ramp and into the bay. On the other side of the pier were the rental boats. We all piled into one, Paps pulled the starter cord, and the motor revved up. We went motoring away, out into the wild blue yonder.Little Assawoman Bay. That really was the name of the bay. Big Assawoman Bay was the larger one, right next to it. It sounds like I’m kidding, but I’m not.We motored out for quite a ways and dropped anchor in Little Assawoman. My Dad got all of our rods baited up and we dropped our lines into the water. Then he got his rod, attached his brand new lure, and casted. He slowly drew the line in. We kids sat and waited for the fish to bite. We were not patient children.Paps usually stood at the front of the boat. His back would be to us. I would sneak up behind my Dad, and jiggle the butt end of his fishing rod, so it felt like he had a fish.Paps would jerk his rod suddenly and pull his line toward him like he was landing a blue marlin.“SUNNUVABITCH!”Then he would realize I’d played a joke. I’m surprised he didn’t throw me overboard.We didn’t take fishing very seriously, but my Dad did. Anything my Dad caught, he’d keep. He once caught an eel, kept it and made a tomato sauce with it. It was awful.Paps would catch blowfish and keep them. Blowfish puff up like balloons when you catch them. Most people don’t eat them. My Dad did. We didn’t.Paps could have pulled an old tire into the boat and I’m pretty sure he would have tried to make a sauce out of it. Just about anything he pulled into that boat, he’d keep.Except once.That day, when we were fishing off the side of the boat, my Dad’s rod bent over. He must have hooked something big. Or heavy. Or both. He reeled it in. It took him a while. Keep in mind; we’re in the Little Assawoman Bay. Not a lot of real big fish in there.When Paps got it to the side of the boat, he screamed for us to get the net. We scrambled, and the boat started rocking, almost knocking him into the water.I got the net, and pulled this big, ugly fish on board. It was the ugliest fish I’d ever seen. It had a big, wide mouth, with nasty-looking sharp teeth. My Dad’s brand new and very expensive lure was stuck in the back of the fish’s mouth, right behind all those sharp teeth.Paps decided to cut off the fish’s head right then and there, and retrieve the lure later. He cut off the head, and threw the body of the fish back in the water. Paps put the bloody severed head of the fish on the bottom of the boat. It was a joy-killer. We kids wanted to go back in.Paps didn’t look too happy as we pulled in our lines. He pulled up the small anchor, and we headed back to the pier. It took us a while. My Dad wasn’t the greatest captain in the world, but we eventually found our way back, after hitting a couple of sand bars, and missing a couple buoys.Paps pulled the boat up to the pier. We tied it up, and we three kids got out of the boat and stood on the pier. My Dad stayed in the boat. We watched as Paps grabbed the bloody fish head, and stuck his hand inside its mouth to pull out his pricey lure.The severed fish head clamped down on my Dad’s hand.“SUNNUVABITCH!”Paps let out a yell, and tried to shake off the fish head. It wouldn’t release its grip. Paps was waving his hand in the air, thrashing his arm around, but the severed fish head wouldn’t let go.We kids would have tried to help him, but we were laughing too hard.The dead fish head eventually released its grip, and got flung way up in the air. It landed in the water with a splash. My Dad’s very expensive lure was gone. His hand was bleeding. He got out of the boat, and walked past us hyenas to the boat ramp.Paps walked down the boat ramp. He was going to rinse his bloody hand off in the bay water. Only problem was -the tide had gone out. The ramp was covered in slick wet moss. When my Dad hit the slippery part, his feet flew up in the air, and he let out a yell,“SUNNUVABITCH!”Then he landed on his ass with a thud you could hear across the ocean. People in Paris felt a rumble. We saw the whole thing. We could not stop laughing. I’m surprised we didn’t roll off the pier and fall in Little Assawoman Bay.Paps was lying there on his ass, hand bleeding, and having trouble getting back up. He kept slipping. All we could do was laugh. Seriously.This was probably one of those times when Paps might have felt like getting drunk and beating us and chaining us to a chair. But he didn’t. Whenever I told that story, he’d be the one laughing the hardest.
PAP’S PESTOPaps made pesto before pesto was cool. He had a bunch of basil beds in front of his cabin on top of the Catskill mountains. Rat Tail Ridge. That’s what his place was called.When the basil was ready, we’d pick it and go back to the house. We’d wash the leaves, and Paps would make pesto. He put it in small jars and sold it to local food stores. It was really delicious.Pesto in Italian means paste, and this blend of basil, cheese, garlic, pine nuts, and olive oil is delizioso. The recipe originates in Genoa, Italy. I had to Slimmify it a bit.I like to use toasted pine nuts, rather than plain. Toasted pine nuts taste better, that’s all. I place a dry skillet over medium-high heat, toss in the nuts, and flip them around ’til they’re light brown. Keep an eye on your nuts--don’t burn ‘em!!This recipe calls for both Parmigiano-Reggiano and Romano Pecorino cheese. Parmigiano is a sweeter cheese. Pecorino is saltier. The blend of the two is wonderful.However, in a pinch I have used just Parmigiano, and it tastes great like that, too.Paps used pesto in all kinds of dishes. He put it over pasta. He used a dollop in soups. He made omelettes with it. Use your imagination - I’ve put it on chicken and fish. I once made shrimp with pesto for the Food Network.Makes one generous cup of pesto.
INGREDIENTS:2 cups fresh basil leaves, cleaned½ cup extra virgin olive oil8 tablespoons of pine nuts (pignoli), toasted (1/2 cup)2 cloves garlic, peeled½ teaspoon of salt½ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese½ cup freshly grated Romano Pecorino cheeseHere we go…Put the basil, ½ cup of olive oil, 4 tablespoons of the toasted pine nuts, the garlic and the salt in a blender and blend, baby, blend. You can also use a food processor.When everything is smooth, transfer to a bowl and slowly blend in the grated cheeses by hand. Or better yet, use a spatula.
That’s it.If you want to serve it over pasta, farfalle works well.Get a large pot, fill it with cold water, and put it on the highest heat. When it boils rapidly, toss in 2 tablespoons of kosher salt and a pound of pasta.Follow the cooking instructions on the side of the pasta box. Two minutes before the pasta is supposed to be done, start tasting. Take a piece of pasta, and bite into it. If it’s chalky in the center it is not done. Check the pasta every 2 minutes or so. It might take longer than the instructions on the box say.When the pasta is firm to the bite (al dente), drain and transfer it to a warm bowl. Drizzle with 1 tablespoon of olive oil and mix.Scoop some the pesto sauce from its bowl, about ¼ cup, and add it to the pasta. Toss well, but be gentle. You can add some more pesto if it doesn’t look like there’s enough.Dish it up! Put a small amount of pasta on a plate. Add a little sprinkle of grated cheese, Parmigiano or Romano or both.Take some of the remaining toasted pine nuts, and sprinkle on top.Sometimes, I’ll broil a couple chicken breasts, chop ‘em up, and add them to the pasta. Delizioso!
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!