MinestroneI made this soup last night. It was the best I ever made, if I may say so myself.A couple things…Italians don’t use a lot of corn. I put some in this recipe. Why? Because it tastes real good. I like the texture, too. And the color it adds.Pancetta is Italian bacon. If you are a vegetarian, you can skip the pancetta. But I love the flavor that it adds. When you cook pancetta, treat it like bacon. You don’t put oil in the bottom of a pan when you’re cooking bacon, so don’t add any when you’re cooking pancetta.Let the pancetta brown on one side. Then give it a stir, and try and get the unbrowned pieces to brown on the other side. If you ain’t got pancetta, use bacon.I use fresh oregano. It tastes better than dried in this recipe, but you can use dried.The chick peas and the corn are already cooked. All you need to do is heat them up. So add them last.You can serve the minestrone as is. Or you can put it over rice or pasta.If you put it over rice or pasta, I suggest you cook them separately from the soup.When you let them cook in the minestrone, they absorb too much broth.I like this soup with pasta; I cook the pasta separate and add it to each bowl before serving.This recipe yields about 20 cups of soup. INGREDIENTS6 ounces of pancetta cut into small pieces¼ cup olive oil plus 2 tablespoonsCrushed red pepper1 cup each--chopped celery, onion, carrots5 cloves mined garlic (about 2 tablespoons)2 cups each--Savoy cabbage, green zucchini, yellow squash cut in small pieces1 twenty-eight ounce can Italian plum tomatoes, smooshed up (about 3 ½ cups)Fresh chopped oregano, about 1 tablespoon, leaves stripped from the stemsFresh Italian flat leaf parsley, about 2 tablespoons, chopped, not too fine1 cup yellow corn (fresh, canned or frozen)1 sixteen-ounce can garbanzo beans (chick peas)3/4 cup grated Pecorino Romano1/4 pound small pasta (ditalini, elbow macaroni, mini farfalle) about 3 or 4 cups cooked Here goes…Put a large pot over medium heat. Add the pancetta, cook for 4 or 5 minutes without stirring. Give it a stir, let it brown for 4 or 5 minutes more without stirring.Turn the heat to medium-low. Add the olive oil, and the crushed red peppers. Let it heat up for a minute.Add the onions, carrots, celery and garlic and cook for 10 minutes. Stir, baby, stir.Add the green zucchini and the yellow squash. Add a drizzle (1 tablespoon) of olive oil. Cook for 5 minutes.Add the Savoy cabbage, add a drizzle (1 tablespoon) of olive oil. Cook for 5 minutes.Add the tomatoes, and the broth. Turn the heat to high. Let it come to a boil, and then reduce the heat to medium-low. Cook for 10 minutes or so, until the zucchini and squash are semi-soft.Add the parsley and oregano. Add the garbanzo beans (chick peas/ceci) and the corn. Add the grated Romano cheese.Taste for salt and pepper and adjustRemove from heat. For the pasta…Get a medium-sized pot, fill it with water, put it on the highest heat you got.When the water comes to a boil, add a couple tablespoons of salt (I use Kosher).Add your pasta. Cook until firm to the bite.When the pasta is done, drain, and put in a bowl.Drizzle with a little olive oil, and stir.Plate it up! Get a soup bowl, fill it about ¾ of the way with soup.Add some pasta to the soup.Top with grated/shaved Romano cheese, if you like, and…MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Minestrone
Minestrone and Tequila and Oscar
My uncle Oscar and I were real close. He was my Dad’s only brother. They grew up poor on the streets of New York City, sons of Italian immigrants. Their Mom, Angela, moved the family to Baltimore, Maryland, when she started organizing the ILGWU—the International Ladies Garment Workers Union. Oscar (I called him “Unc”) went to medical school, became a surgeon, and—with a little encouragement from Angela--started a little health care company for the unions that evolved into United HealthCare. Unc made a fortune. He did it the old-fashioned way. He earned it. Started with nothing.I was just a kid when my folks got divorced. I stayed with my Mom in Baltimore, and my Dad moved back to New York. Unc was like a father to me—he was the guy I turned to in times of trouble, and in the good times, too. Unc was my doctor, my confidant, and my go-to guy.When I was a stupid teenager, I was at a party that got busted for under-age drinking. I had just walked in, and the cops came in right behind me—I was the first kid they cuffed. Unc was the guy who bailed me out—he and my Mom came and got me. All charges were dropped.When Unc went out of town, he used to lend me his big new Cadillac Brougham with the blue velour bucket seats and the wide whitewall tires. I’d drive around Baltimore, listening to Tony Bennett on the 8-track.When I broke up with XF2 (ex-fiancé number two), Unc was the guy I called. He told me to come over, and stay for a while. I ended up staying for a couple years.Oscar was a great cook. He taught me more about cooking in those few years than I had learned in my whole life. Oscar had gone to Marcella Hazan’s cooking school in Italy. Marcella’s cookbooks on Italian cooking are my favorites, she’s legendary. He took other cooking classes in Italy. Unc had skills.Oscar taught me all about food during those years. He also taught me a lot about wine. When I was a teenager, I accidentally opened up one of his very rare bottles of 1954 Chateau Mouton Rothschild cabernet when Angela--his Mom, my grandmother—asked me to pour her a glass of wine. Unc had gone out to dinner, but when he got back and found the open bottle, he was very understanding.“What the hell were you thinking? Have you lost your fucking mind?”He wasn’t really angry, that’s just the way he talked to me. Lucky me. When I told him the story, he laughed. It didn’t really bother him. Then he told me about the wine. It was the first of many lessons.Many years later, when I was living with Unc after my break-up with XF2, he went down to Florida for the winter. On my birthday, he called me at his house, and told me to go to the wine cellar and get a bottle of wine for my birthday—any bottle I wanted. I was making dinner for me and Hit Man Howie Z, and I told Howie to go down to Unc’s cellar and get a bottle of whatever he had the most of, figuring that the chances of opening a rare wine would be a whole lot less that way.Howie brought up a bottle of wine, and told me Unc had two full cases of it—way more than any other. I was busy cooking--I didn’t even look at what kind of wine it was, I just told Howie to open it, which he did. When I looked over at the bottle of wine, my heart sank. It was a bottle of Chateau Mouton Rothschild cabernet. What were the chances of that happening? We drank it—what else could we do? Put the cork back in? It was incredible.
When Unc came back to Baltimore in the spring, I took him wine shopping in Annapolis. We were strolling around the wine store when I saw a bottle of the same wine that Howie had opened. It was $999.99--a thousand bucks a bottle. Unc noticed it and said, “I’ve got two cases of that.”I said, “Not any more.” I told him the story.He said, “Are you fucking kidding me?” Then he shook his head and laughed. I knew it didn’t make any difference to him—he was as generous as could be. But he always liked to give me a beat-down to keep me in line. Unc had a cellar full of really good wine—but not the kind of wine I was used to drinking. His tastes were a little more refined than mine.Unc also liked to drink tequila occasionally.I was in my early twenties, living at my Mom’s house when Unc called me up one night and asked me if I’d ever drank tequila. I told him no. He told me to come over. I told him I’d be right there. You can’t refuse a request from The Godfather.I had an old Datsun station wagon with rusted out floorboards — you could see the ground below on both the driver’s and the passenger’s side. It was a stick shift and it backfired when you downshifted — sounded just like gunshots.I got in the car and drove 10 minutes to my uncle’s house. When I walked in, he was standing in his kitchen with a bottle of tequila and two glasses. He poured us each a shot. He gave me a slice of lime. He put some salt on the skin between my thumb and index finger. He told me what to do - lick the salt, drink the shot, and suck the lime. I did. It tasted like turpentine. Smelled like it, too. It tasted like something you might drink after ingesting poison, so you could induce vomiting. It burned going down. My eyes were tearing up, my throat was on fire, and I had an instant headache.Let’s have another. We stood in the kitchen and drank some more. His wife was upstairs. Smart woman. Good-looking, too. Oscar was a sharp dresser, but that night, he was in his bathrobe. He had no drawers on. How did I know?Unc was not a modest man. He once got naked and went swimming in the river at his 75th birthday party. There were dozens of people there. He just took off all his clothes and dove in.Me? I have recurring nightmares about being caught naked in public. I rarely wear short sleeves or shorts. I don’t even wear flip-flops or sandals. When I go to bed at night, I don’t sleep naked. I wear my boxers and an undershirt. Why?Because if someone breaks into the bedroom and I have to jump out the window, at least I won’t be running down the street naked. But Unc? He didn’t mind who saw him naked. It wasn’t a sexual thing. Unc just didn’t see any problem with letting it all hang out; which he was doing that night.
So there we were, in Unc’s kitchen, drinking shots of tequila, Unc with his bathrobe untied, and I’m starting to feel a little untied myself. Have you ever tried on someone’s eyeglasses, and they’ve got a really strong prescription? And things look really out of focus, and you get a bit of a headache after a few seconds and then feel nauseated?That’s how I felt. We’d had a couple of shots. I must have looked like a seasick sailor, because Unc was giving me worried glances. That’s when he said, “You don't look so good. I’ll give you a ride home.”Oscar loved my Mom, so he welcomed the opportunity to give me a ride home. Why we took my car, I don’t know. Unc always had real nice cars; Cadillacs, Mercedes, Maseratis -why he wanted to drive my old Datsun that backfired and had rusted out floorboards was a mystery. Unc got behind the wheel in just his bathrobe with no drawers on and started the engine. It backfired; sounded like a shotgun blast. I looked over and he had a look of glee in his eyes. He took off.He had a blast driving that car. Every time he shifted, the car would backfire. BANG! He’d let out a holler and a laugh; and drive on. You could look down through the holes in the floorboards and see the street zipping by. It made me dizzy. I felt sick to my stomach. Unc was having a grand ol’ time.He pulled up to my Mom’s house, parked on the street out front, and I got out and started staggering up the sidewalk to the front door. Neither my uncle nor I realized his wife had heard us leave his house and was following right behind us. When Unc got out of my car and started following me to the front door, she grabbed him by the back of his bathrobe and pulled him into her car and drove off. I was oblivious. I got to the front door of my Mom’s house, and turned around to let Unc in, and -He was nowhere to be found. I looked all around, in the bushes, behind the trees, in the car. I couldn’t find him. I was baffled. Where the hell did he go? I looked up and down the street. It was late. It was dark. I walked in the front door and walked into the kitchen.I woke up the next morning, asleep on the kitchen floor. My head felt like someone was firing staples into my skull. I couldn’t focus my eyes and my mouth felt like several small animals had spent the night in there.At least I had my clothes on.MINESTRONE
After a night of tequila, ain’t nothing like a bowl of minestrone followed by a trip to the Betty Ford Clinic. I made this soup last night. It was the best I ever made, if I may say so myself. A couple things to remember -Italians don’t use a lot of corn. But I put some in this recipe. Why? Because it tastes really good. I like the texture and the color it adds, too.Pancetta is Italian bacon. If you are a vegetarian, you can skip the bacon. But I love the flavor it adds. When you cook pancetta, treat it like bacon. Let the pancetta brown on one side. Then give it a stir, and try and get the unbrowned pieces to brown on the other side. If you don’t have pancetta, you can use bacon.I use fresh oregano. I normally like dried oregano better, but for some reason, fresh tastes best in this recipe, but dried works, too.The tomatoes need to be smooshed. Open the can, pour them in a bowl, and dig in with your mitts, and squeeze the tomatoes. Remove the yellow center core, and any skin.The chick peas and the corn are already cooked. All you need to do is heat them up. So add them last.You can eat this soup as is or you can put some rice or pasta in it.I used to put the pasta right in the soup and let it cook in there. The only problem was the pasta would end up absorbing all the broth. So now I cook the pasta separately and add it to each individual bowl before serving.This recipe yields about 20 cups of soup. Which is 5 quarts. I think.INGREDIENTS
6 ounces pancetta cut into small pieces¼ cup olive oil plus 2 tablespoonsCrushed red pepper (I start off with ¼ teaspoon)1 cup each – chopped onion, carrots, celery5 cloves minced garlic (about 2 tablespoons)2 cups each – green zucchini, yellow squash, Savoy cabbage – all cut in small pieces1 twenty-eight ounce can Italian plum tomatoes, smooshed up (about 3 ½ cups)8 cups chicken broth2 cups water2 tablespoons fresh Italian flat leaf parsley, coarsely chopped1 tablespoon fresh oregano, leaves stripped from the stems, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried oregano)1 sixteen-ounce can garbanzo beans (chick peas)1 cup yellow corn (fresh, canned or frozen)¾ cup grated Romano-pecorino cheese, plus some for sprinkling/topping½ pound small pasta (ditalini, elbow macaroni, mini farfalle)Salt (I use kosher)Here goes…Put a large pot over medium heat. Add the pancetta, cook for 4 minutes without stirring.Give it a stir, let it brown for 4 minutes more without stirring.Turn the heat to medium-low. Add the olive oil and the crushed red pepper. Let it heat up for a minute. Stir.Add the onions, carrots, celery and garlic and cook for 10 minutes. Stir, baby, stir.
Add the green zucchini and the yellow squash. Add a drizzle (1 tablespoon) of olive oil. Cook for 5 minutes.Add the Savoy cabbage, add another drizzle (1 tablespoon) of olive oil. Cook for 5 minutes.Add the tomatoes, the broth, and the water. Turn the heat to high. Let it come to a boil, and then reduce the heat to medium-low.Cook for 10 minutes or so, until the zucchini and squash are semi-soft.Add the parsley and oregano.Add the garbanzo beans (chick peas) and the corn.Add the grated Romano cheese.Let the soup cook for 5 minutes or so.Taste for salt and pepper and adjust.Remove from heat.For the pasta…Get a medium-sized pot, fill it with water, and put it on the highest heat.When the water comes to a boil, add a couple tablespoons of salt (I use kosher).Add your pasta. Follow the cooking instructions on the box. Two minutes before the pasta is supposed to be done, take a piece and bite into it. If it is chalky in the center, it is not done. Check your pasta every 2 minutes.When the pasta is done (al dente, firm to the bite), drain, and put in a bowl.Drizzle with a tablespoon of olive oil and stir. You might not use all the pasta.Dish it up! Get a soup bowl, fill it about ¾ of the way with soup.Add some pasta to the soup. Give it a stir.Top with grated/shaved Romano cheese, serve with some crusty bread, and…MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Potato Leek Soup
I was walking down the streets of Paris with Hit Man Howie Z when I heard a woman’s voice calling my name. This was weird, because it was my first time in Paris. I didn’t know anybody there. Who the hell could it be?I turned around and was staring at two of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. One I knew.Her name was Barbie, and she used to be a cocktail waitress at a club that Howie and I used to play in Baltimore, Maryland, a place called Girard’s. The other gal I didn’t know. Barbie introduced us to her friend. When I asked Barbie what she was doing in Paris, she told me she was doing some modeling for Vogue magazine. She told me her friend had just been on the cover of the Italian Vogue.I invited them to dinner that night. It would probably cost every penny I had, but how many times are you gonna have an opportunity like this? Paris? Supermodels?When Barbie asked me what Howie and I were doing in Paris, I told to her that we were in London, trying to get something going with our band, BootCamp. Howie and I had come over to Paris to meet my cousin, Mindy, who was having her art exhibited at a gallery.
That’s what I told them, which was all true, but not the whole truth. The whole truth?We had rented a cheap flat in London for a week or so. It was me, Howie (drums), Bob (guitar) and a friend of ours named Mac. We were struggling musicians, except for Mac. He didn’t look like he was struggling--he was wearing custom silk suits and buying expensive antiques.The rest of us were on a real tight budget.One evening we went to a pub and had some drinks. We were having a good ol’ time in LondonTown. I noticed Mac in the corner, talking to some Rastafarian. He gave Mac a little package, and then RastaMan screamed, "RUN!" All hell broke loose.A couple of British policemen started running towards the pub, blowing their whistles. We took off running. We exploded out of that pub. We ran through yards, gardens. We sprinted down alleys, leaping over cars. We jumped fences. It’s amazing how fast you move when cops are chasing you. Not that it happens to me very often.We made it back to the flat. How, I don’t know. Turns out Mac had bought some hashish from the Jamaican. It seemed to me like a good time to get out of London.So Howie and I took off for Paris. We got on a Hovercraft to cross the English Channel. A Hovercraft is a huge boat. Massive. It sits on what looks like an immense flat tire. You board the boat, and they inflate the tire. So you start rising and rising, way up in the air.They turn on these gigantic fans on the back of the boat, and it blows you across the water, like you’re on a huge inner tube. The English Channel was choppy that day. It was a real rough ride. And Howie was really hungover from the night before.He laid down on a row of seats behind me. Every few minutes, he’d poke his head up, and each time he did, he was a different shade of green. He looked like he was gonna die. We finally made it across the Channel, and caught a train to Paris.My cousin picked us up. She's quite an artist. Her paintings are intriguing and original and worthy of an exhibition. She gave us a ride to the apartment where she was staying with a friend.
Her friend’s name was Jaime, and he was quite a character. He was an artist, and did surreal paintings, similar in style to Salvador Dali. He had a goatee and long brown hair, and wore scarves and black crushed velvet smoking jackets with colored silk pocket squares. I dug his style.His apartment was cozy, comfy, and cool.A few days later, Howie and I were walking down the street when we met the Vogue supermodels.A few hours later, we were in a swanky restaurant in Paris called Chez Georges and it was intoxicating. The Russian chef guy came over to the table. If I were the chef, I would have come over to our table, too. The girls were that gorgeous.Chef dude started talking to us. He spoke into a microphone that was hooked up to a small speaker that hung around his neck. I didn’t understand a word he said; the speaker was distorted, and I couldn’t even tell what language it was. I thought it was some kind of comedy routine until I realized the guy had some serious vocal issues.We ordered dinner, and it was lovely. One of the many wonderful things about Europe is the way they take their time when they eat out.At the end of the dinner, Russian chef guy came back with a bottle of vodka. No label, just an old, clear bottle. It had all sorts of stuff in the bottom — black peppercorns, red peppers, green pepperoncini. It looked like birdseed soaking in grain alcohol.He placed a big metal shot glass in front of Howie and poured it full. He shouted something in Russian and motioned for Howie to drink. The table got real quiet. Russian chef barked out another order. We looked at Howie. He looked at us. He drank.After he swallowed, his eyes started to tear up. His face turned red. He started sweating. I thought his head was gonna explode. Then the mad Russian turned to me. He poured me a shot in the same metal glass. I looked around the table. He barked something in Russian and I picked up the glass and drank it all down.It was like swallowing a red-hot piece of charcoal. My throat was on fire. My eyes watered. I felt like I was gonna projectile vomit. But I didn’t.After dinner, we invited the girls back to Jaime’s apartment.That’s when the circus began. We walked in the front door and Jaime had a certain look in his eye. He looked at those girls like the Big Bad Wolf looking at Little Red Riding Hood.My grandmother had a dog named Pepe that tried to hump everyone who walked through the front door.Jaime wasn’t quite that bad. But Howie and I were hoping that maybe he would be going off to bed. No such luck. I think Jaime had other things in mind. We poured some drinks, and then Jaime turned on the French charm, full blast. Those poor girls. I think Jaime's libidinous lip-smacking might have scared them.The supermodels ran out of that place like it was on fire. If they had leapt from the balcony I wouldn’t have blamed them.We never saw them again. Just as well, I guess. Supermodels must be expensive girlfriends. Should I pay the mortgage? Or buy her a new handbag?Potato Leek Soup
If you’re looking for a French dish to cook after two supermodels have just walked out of your life, have I got a dish for you. The French call this vichyssoise.This soup is so quick, so easy, so inexpensive to make, I can’t believe I don’t make it more often.You can serve it hot. You can serve it chilled. You can serve it at room temperature. You can serve it chunky. Or you can put it in a blender and serve it smooth. It’s delicious. Which is the most important thing.The last time I made this soup, I thought it needed a little crunch on top. So I cut a leek into matchstick-size pieces, dusted them with flour that I had salted and peppered, and fried them for about a minute.When I served the soup, I stuck the slivers into the soup so it looked like a little teepee in the center of the bowl. My Dad would have smacked me on the back of the head and given me grief over that, but they tasted great, and it looked cool.You’ll need 4 leeks for the soup.Cut off about an inch of the white root at the bottom, and cut off most of the green upper part of the stalks. You’ll have about 6 or 7 inches or so of stalk left. RINSE WELL, especially in between the leaves.Peel off the outer leaf of each leek. You’ll use these for the garnish. You’ll also see just how dirty leeks can be. You gotta clean ‘em well!Chop up 4 of the stalks, into chunky pieces, which should give you 4 cups for the soup. Slice the leek leaves you pulled off into matchstick size slivers—you’ll fry these for the garnish.INGREDIENTSFor the soup…4 tablespoons butter4 cups chopped potatoes4 cups chopped leeks4 cups chicken broth (or vegetable)Salt and pepperFor the fried leeks:4 tablespoons of olive oil1/4 cup of flour4 whole leek leaves, cut into matchstick-size sliversSalt and pepperLet’s do the soup first…Put the butter in the bottom of a large pan over medium-low heat. Add the 4 cups of chopped potatoes, and the 4 cups of chopped leeks.Cook for 10 minutes, stir often.Add the broth--I used chicken—and put the heat on high. When the soup comes to a boil, reduce the heat to medium-low, add salt and fresh cracked black pepper, and cook for 30 minutes. Stir often.While the soup cooks, let’s sauté our leeks.
Get a sauté pan, put the olive oil in the bottom, and turn the heat to medium-high.Put the flour on a plate and add salt and pepper.Put the leek slivers in the flour, roll ‘em around, shake off the excess, and place in the sauté pan.Cook for about 30 seconds to 1 minute–until golden brown, then turn them over and cook for another 30 seconds to 1 minute on the other side until golden brown.Remove them from the pan and place them on paper towels.Now back to the soup…When the soup has cooked for 30 minutes, it should be done. Stick a fork in a piece of potato to make sure.At this point, you’ve got a decision to make - smooth or chunky. In cold weather, I like it chunky and hot — just like my women. In hot weather, I like it smooth and cool, like a supermodel.If you want it chunky, take a slotted spoon, or a masher, and mash the potatoes and leeks, right there in the pot.If you want it smooth, put the soup in a blender and give it a couple of pulses. If you want it chilled, stick it in the fridge for a little while.Put some soup in a bowl. Garnish with the fried leeks--make a little teepee in the center. Serve it with some hot and crusty bread and…
MANGIAMO!!!!!!!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Italian Chicken Soup
Chicken Soup and My Dad's Eyebrows
My Dad (I called him Paps) had eyebrows that looked like two small porcupines had perched above his eyes. His eyebrows were so wild and wooly he could have combed them straight back and it would have looked like he had a full head of hair.Paps was bald. Maybe that’s why he wouldn’t let anybody trim his eyebrows. It was the last patch of thick hair he had on his head. You would have needed a weed-whacker to trim them, anyway.We kids would beg my Dad to trim the shrubbery, but he wouldn’t. The barber would offer to clip the hedges, and my Dad would refuse.His eyebrows were a topic of conversation among the family. They were hard to ignore. They’d enter the room a few minutes before he would. You could have braided them. As my Dad got older, his eyebrows got hairier and more wiry. If you got too close to him, they’d poke your eyes out.My Dad was the least modest person I knew. He let it all hang out. I don’t feel bad telling stories like these, because I’ve told tell them many times, right in front of him. And he’d be the one laughing the hardest. That was one of the many beautiful things about Paps — even though he was a serious guy, he didn’t take himself real seriously.But he had some real serious eyebrows that he never trimmed. Except once.My Dad had come down to Baltimore to fix up his Mom’s house. Angela had died a few months prior — April, 1975. I was living with her when she passed away. It was a horrible time. She was so sick and in so much pain. After she died, I continued to stay in her house, which was near Pimlico Racetrack, a horse racing track where they have the Preakness Stakes race.I idolized Angela. She was an Italian immigrant who came to this country with nothing and made an incredible impact on this world. She was such a comfort to be around; she was easy to talk to. She was generous. She paid for my piano lessons, even bought me an upright to practice on. When she died, I was heartbroken.I wanted to keep on living in the house, but my Dad and his only brother, Oscar, wanted to sell the place. The neighborhood was going downhill--probably because I was living there. So my Dad came down from New York to get the house ready to put on the market.One night, after a hard day’s work on the house, my Dad and I were sitting at the kitchen table. He wanted to cook something in the oven. It was one of those old gas stoves that you had to light by hand. Paps turned the gas on.
I explained to him that you had to light the stove by hand. He bent over, opened the oven door, and struck a match. Before I could stop him, a blast of flame knocked him flat on his ass. I thought for sure that his face was fried.But it wasn’t. He was sitting on the kitchen floor, facial hair smoldering. I helped him up and sat him in a chair.His eyebrows were trimmed at last. As a matter of fact, I think they might have saved his life. The flame probably had a hard time burning through the shrubbery that was his eyebrows, which probably saved his face from getting flame-broiled. His eyebrows looked normal for once. That was the one and only time my Dad’s eyebrows got trimmed.We worked on the house just about every day, cleaning, painting and fixing everything up. I was really struggling with the loss of Angela. We were real close. One day, when I was feeling low, my Dad took me to the racetrack, which was right up the street. He thought it might take my mind off things. We walked up the street to Pimlico racetrack.On the way, Paps found a wallet in the bushes stuffed with cash—hundreds of dollars. Paps looked at the address on the driver’s license, and we walked to the house. Paps walked up and knocked on the door. A guy answered, and my Dad handed him the wallet. I’ll never forget the look of relief and gratitude on the guy’s face. He offered my Dad some money. He didn’t take it.Paps and I walked to Pimlico racetrack, a thoroughbred track. When we got there, he explained to me how to bet, how to pick horses. I wasn’t paying attention. If I liked the way a horse looked, I’d bet a couple bucks. If I liked the jockey’s colors, I’d bet a couple bucks.I lost every race. I was more depressed than ever! When the last race came around, Paps explained that it was a trifecta, which means, if you pick all three of the winning horses in order, you win big.I picked the #2 horse to come in first, the #1 horse to come in second, and the #4 horse to come in third.2-1-4. It was Angela’s birthday, February 14th—2-1-4.The horses took off out of the starting gate. For the whole race, the #2 horse was in front, the #1 horse was second and the #4 horse was third. When they crossed the finish line, the #5 horse beat out the #4 horse for third place. The final order was 2-1-5. I was a big loser!I showed my Dad my ticket, and then threw it on the ground. He picked it up, gave it back to me and told me that the race wasn’t official yet. He explained that the race wasn’t official until they had a chance to review the race, which took a couple minutes.A voice came over the PA system. There was an objection against the #5 horse--he had bumped into the #4 horse right before the end of the race. The officials then disqualified the #5 horse, and the final, official result was 2-1-4.I won $899 on that race. I could feel my grandmother smiling down on me.We went back to the house, and the next day, started working again. We eventually got the place all fixed up. It didn’t take long to sell Angela’s house. It was a great place, with an apartment on the second floor that had a big balcony off the main bedroom. I hated to see the place go.
My Dad took the money from the sale of Angela’s house and bought a place in upstate New York. It was called Rat Tail Ridge. Forty acres on top of a mountain with a view that was breathtaking.One door closes, another one opens.ITALIAN CHICKEN SOUPThe toughest thing about making Italian chicken soup is finding an Italian chicken. They’re usually the ones in the corner of the coop, drinking wine and arguing.My Dad loved soup. He was a soup guy. Maybe it was because he lived on Top of Old Smokey, where it was so cold that bears knocked on the front door looking for a place to hibernate. Hot soup works wonders when you come in from the cold.I roasted a chicken the other day. I used my Mom’s recipe, which is basically sticking a whole lemon inside the chicken and baking it. The next day was a cold and rainy winter day, so I made some soup from the chicken.If you have leftover chicken (turkey works, too), here’s what you do - pick the meat off the bones and the carcass. I usually end up with about three cups of chicken meat. Throw away the stuff you don’t like—fat, skin, small bones and such.I broke the carcass into two pieces. I used those and a couple leg and wing bones in the soup — they add great flavor. Just make sure you remove all the bones and stuff before you serve the soup. Take a slotted spoon and go fishing for bones or skin and remove them. You don’t want any of your guests breaking a bicuspid on a chicken bone.After you’ve made the soup, if there is any fat on top, skim it off.You can serve this soup as is, or you can add some pasta or rice.I like using small pasta, like ditalini. I cook the pasta separately, and put some in each individual bowl. I used to put it right in the soup and let it cook in there, but the pasta absorbs too much broth, and gets soggy.You’ll need to smoosh the Italian tomatoes before you add them to the soup. Open the can, pour them in a bowl, and dig in with your mitts and smoosh ‘em up! Remove the small yellow core from each tomato, and any skin or stems.
INGREDIENTS¼ cup of olive oil1 cup each — chopped celery, carrots, and onion4 garlic cloves, minced2 cups cabbage — I used Napa cabbage — sliced into small pieces8 cups chicken brothChicken or turkey carcass and bones2 cups water1 bay leaf1 twenty-eight ounce can whole, peeled Italian tomatoes, smooshed up by hand2 tablespoons fresh oregano, or 1 tablespoon dried3 cups of chicken or turkey meat, white and dark1 cup of corn–fresh, canned or frozen½ pound of pasta (ditalini works well, as does elbow macaroni)Salt and pepperHere we go…Put a large pot on medium heat.Add the olive oil, let it heat up for 2 minutes.Add the celery, carrots, onion and garlic.Let it cook for about 7 minutes, stirring every so often.Add the cabbage.Cook for 5 minutes.Add the chicken broth.Put the chicken/turkey carcass and bones in the pot.Add the water.Add the bay leaf.Add the tomatoes.Add the oregano.Turn the heat on high and bring to a boil.Then lower the heat to medium-low, cook for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally.Remove the carcass pieces and bones.Pick off any remaining meat from the carcass and bones that you’ve just removed, and add the meat to the soup. Discard the bones and carcass.Add the 3 cups of chicken or turkey meat to the soup.Add the corn.Cook for 5 minutes.Take the soup off the heat.Check it for bones and any other funky stuff.If you want to add some pasta…Get a pot, fill it with cold water, and put it on high heat.When it comes to a boil, add a couple tablespoons kosher salt.Add the pasta.When it is VERY FIRM, drain it.Dish it up! Serve the soup in large bowls.Add a little pasta to each bowl. Give it a stir.You can also add some cooked rice, if you'd prefer that to pasta.Serve with some crusty bread, and…
MANGIAMO!!!!!
Slim Man Cooks Pasta Fagioli
Christmas Eve was always a whole lot more fun than Christmas Day for me.My uncle Oscar threw these crazy Christmas Eve parties. They were the highlight of my year. I loved partying with Unc, loved being around the family.This is how it usually went down…I’d arrive around 7 PM at Oscar’s house — Cat Tail Creek — right on the river, about 20 miles south of Baltimore, Maryland. The trees that line the gravel driveway would be twinkling with Christmas lights. I'd park the car and walk up the front steps. The door would be unlocked, but I’d ring the doorbell anyway. The “Theme from The Godfather” would chime inside.I’d walk in the door. I’d yell “Zio!”, Italian for uncle. He’d yell “Timmer!” which is what he called me. We’d open the wine, he’d start cooking, I’d try to help, and Oscar would constantly yell at me, “What the f*** are you doing? That’s all wrong! I give you one thing to do, and you f*** it up! Let me show you how it’s done. Madonna Mia!”It may not sound like fun, but it was.The rest of the family would be there, along with wives and girlfriends and boyfriends and husbands. Oscar was ringleader. I was jester and troubadour. Those parties were so much fun. Oscar’s daughter gave me Batu as a Christmas present at one of those Christmas Eve parties. Best Christmas present ever.One Christmas Eve, I had a show at the Rams Head Tavern in Annapolis, Maryland. Annapolis is a bayside Colonial town, right on the Chesapeake Bay. Annapolis is my Mom’s hometown; Oscar’s house was not far away. The Rams Head Tavern is one of the coolest small clubs in the country – it holds about 300 people, and has been voted best concert venue in the world under 500 seats many times. It’s one of my favorite places to play.Oscar had booked a bunch of tables front and center for the Slim Christmas Show at the Rams Head that night. I was at Oscar’s house, getting ready to leave for the show when all of a sudden -Everyone started getting sick. Violently ill. Almost everyone in the house was suddenly under severe and violent gastro-intestinal distress. One minute, someone would be feeling perfectly fine, and then suddenly, the attack would occur. It was disgusting. People were trotting around in a panic. Folks were banging on bathroom doors. From the inside and out. It was not very festive. I was just glad it wasn’t from something I cooked.
As much as I wanted to stay, I had to leave Cat Tail Creek for the Big Slim Christmas Show. When I left, one of the Slim Family—true story—was laying on a rug outside the bathroom door, doubled over and moaning.Merry Christmas! Love you!I drove to the Rams Head. I felt fine. Apparently, a lot of folks in the area had the stomach virus too, because there were some empty tables at the Rams Head that night, even though it was sold-out. None of the Slim Family showed up – they all had the stomach bug. I had brought a date to the Rams Head. We had been going out for a few weeks. The Slim Man show went well. So did the date.After the Rams Head show, the two of us went back to Oscar’s house. It was as quiet as could be. Everybody had gone to bed. Nobody was laying on the floor outside the bathroom. There was no one in the huge living room, but the fire was still glowing in the fireplace. I stoked the fire, so to speak, and Slim Gal and I sat on the couch in front of the glowing embers, the Christmas tree twinkling in the corner of the room. I grabbed a couple pillows and a blanket from the couch, and we lay down on the rug in front of the fire. I put the blanket over us. It was very snuggly. Things started heating up. Some outer layers of clothing were shed, to ward off the heat prostration.The house was dead silent, everyone was sleeping, and it was so romantic, quiet and lovely in the middle of the night.‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring not even a mouse.That’s when the creatures started stirring. My Dad came out of his bedroom and sat on the couch, just a few feet away from us. He turned on the TV, which was next to the fireplace. My Dad is deaf, duro d'orecchio. The TV came on and the sound was so loud you could hear it across the bay. The volume was deafening and startling. My Dad, of course, had no idea.My cousin’s extremely large Rottweiler started barking furiously, and came bounding down the stairs, heading right for me and Girly-Girl. I rolled on top of Slim Babe, pulled the blanket over our heads, and whispered in her ear, “Pretend you’re dead!”I really did say that. The dog came over and sniffed. My cousin’s husband came down the stairs and let the dog out. Some other Slim Family members started wandering out of their bedrooms, wondering what all the commotion was about. They had to have seen me on the floor. I guess everybody thought it was just me under that thin cotton throw.Slim Gal and I were trying hard not to laugh. Of course, no one would have heard anything over the blaring TV, anyway.“Phil! Phil!! PHIL!!!”Somebody finally got the remote from my Dad, and turned the TV off. Some folks started milling around the kitchen, getting water and Kaopectate and Pepto-Bismol. Then everybody went back to sleep. My Dad went back to bed. There was a short symphony of gaseous emissions coming from the various bedrooms. Then things got real quiet again.We started getting cuddly again, as the fire glowed. Things began to get a bit amorous -Until Oscar’s wife came running out of her bathroom, waving a plunger over her head, screaming that the toilet had backed up and was flowing all over her bathroom floor. Everybody leaped out of bed, and started charging around. Folks were bounding down the stairs. People were grabbing rolls of paper towels, and buckets and mops and dashing in and out of the bathroom. It was pandemonium.The Slim Babe and I were still lying on the rug in front of the dying fire, hiding under the small blanket, hoping nobody would notice us. They finally got the toilet plunged, got the mess cleaned up, and went back to bed.We waited for a few minutes, to see if any other craziness might occur. There was no more vomiting. No more trots. No more TVs blaring. No more toilets overflowing. It was finally quiet. Finally!‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house…But the vibe was busted. The fire had gone out – literally and figuratively. I walked her to the door and gave her a big Slim Kiss.Soooo - how do you like The Family?PASTA FAGIOLI 
The Slim Babe who was with me that Christmas Eve by the fire? She made a great pasta fagioli. She had some of the best cooking instincts I’ve ever witnessed. Oscar let her have free reign over his kitchen, which is something he didn’t even give me.I love this soup. It is perfetto around the Holidays, when the family is gathered around the table, exchanging blows.Fagioli is the Italian word for beans. So pasta e fagioli means pasta and beans. Some folks just call it pasta fagioli. Some Americans call it pasta fazool.One of my favorite Dean Martin songs is called “That’s Amore.” There’s a line it that goes like this…When the stars make you drool just like pasta fazool, that’s amore!It’s a really good song, and this is a really good soup. The main ingredient is beans, so a big bowl of this delish dish might not be a real good idea right before a long car ride with the family.I’ve made this dish two ways, one with beans, and one with beans and ham. They’re both pretty harkin’ good, if I may say so myself. A couple things…I cooked this yesterday. I went to the store and bought what I needed, and went back to Slim’s Shady Trailer Park. When I opened the cans of beans and poured them in a bowl, they didn’t look right. They looked kinda gray. I took a bite of one and it tasted like soggy cardboard.I’ve never actually tasted soggy cardboard. I’m not encouraging anyone to go out and taste soggy cardboard. All I’m saying is, the beans didn’t taste good, so I took them back and bought another brand. They looked great and were delizioso.Here’s my point. If you’re making pasta e fagioli, and beans are your main ingredient, make sure they taste good before you toss ‘em in there. This goes for all recipes. I once was getting ready to make a carrot and onion sauce, and I tasted one of the carrots and it wasn’t good. I tasted another, same thing. I went back to the store and bought another bunch.Slim People. You gotta give things a taste before you get started. Maybe not with raw chicken, but most of the time, give your main ingredient a sniff and a chew. When in doubt, toss it out.This recipe calls for pancetta. Pancetta is bacon. You want to cook pancetta just like you’d cook bacon — brown it on one side in a dry pan, then brown it on the other. When you’re using pieces of pancetta, it can be tricky. Try and get it browned on all sides. You can use bacon, if you need to substitute.You can use a whole piece of pancetta and dice it. I used a package of Boar’s Head sliced pancetta, and cut it in slivers, it tasted really good. If you’re a vegetarian, you can skip the pancetta.
Another thing…the rinds of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese really make this soup delish. Parmigiano-Reggiano is ridiculously expensive, but ridiculously good. I cut the rinds off a piece of cheese that I had in the fridg. One rind was about the size of a playing card, the other was a little smaller. Make sure you take them out of the soup when it’s done…Because you don’t want to serve a big old gnarly cheese rind to your Uncle Vito. Come to think of it, you might not want to give him a whole lot of beans, either. Could be explosive.If you don’t have cheese rinds, you can give a generous sprinkling of fresh-grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese on top of each bowl. When I use cheese rinds in the soup, I usually don’t add any extra cheese.But if your Snarlin’ Little Darlin’ wants some cheese, just shut up and grate.And finally! I’ve never cooked a turkey, but I once bought a ham for the Holidays. There was a lot left over. I trimmed almost all the ham off the ham bone, and removed as much fat off the meat as I could. I had about 2 cups of chopped ham. And a ham bone. I put it in my pasta e fagioli and it was heavenly. If you want to add ham to your pasta fagioli, go ahead. Pork and beans go together, like peanut butter and jelly!Serves six
INGREDIENTS4 ounces of pancetta, diced3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil1 cup each—chopped carrots, chopped celery, chopped Spanish/purple onion1 tablespoon minced garlic, about 4 cloves¾ cup dry white wine1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary1 can crushed/diced Italian tomatoes (San Marzano are best but $$)1 large rind of Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese (or 2 small)2 fifteen-ounce cans of cannellini beans1 quart chicken broth (or vegetable broth)Salt (I use kosher, mazel tov!)¼ cup fresh chopped Italian flat leaf parsley½ pound tubetti (or any other small pasta like ditalini, small elbow macaroni)OPTIONAL: 2 cups or more of chopped ham, and a ham boneHere we go…Get a large Dutch oven or a large heavy soup pot.Put the heat on medium, and add the pancetta. Let it cook for 3 or 4 minutes, then give it a stir and let it cook for another 3 or 4 minutes. We want the pancetta to brown, so you don’t need to stir it but once or twice.Turn the heat to medium-low and add the carrots, celery, onion and garlic. Give ‘em a stir. Let ‘em cook for 8 minutes. Stir occasionally.Turn the heat to medium-high, and add the wine. Stir, stir, stir for 2 minutes.Add the rosemary and let it cook for 2 minutes. Stir, stir, stir.Turn the heat to high, and add the tomatoes, cheese rinds and the beans. Stir gently a few times. You don’t want your beans going all mushy. OPTIONAL: you can add 2 cups or so of chopped ham, and a ham bone.When it all comes to a boil, put the heat on low and simmer for 10 minutes. Stir gently just a couple of times.
Add the chicken broth and a teaspoon of salt. Stir gently a few times.Put the heat on high, and when it comes to a boil, lower the heat to low and let it simmer for 10 minutes. Stir gently just a few times.Remove from heat, and add the parsley.Now would be a good time to remove the cheese rinds and the ham bone, if you used ham.)Some folks like to cook their pasta right in the soup. I prefer to cook it separately, and add a little to each bowl, and stir it in. Some Lady people I know are avoiding pasta these days. Sophia Loren loved pasta, and she’s been sexy her whole life. Just thought I’d toss that out there.Cook the pasta according to the directions on the box; mine always seems to take a little longer than instructed.When the pasta is firm, not soggy, drain it, put it in a bowl and drizzle with a LITTLE extra virgin olive oil, about a tablespoon, and mix.Put some soup in a bowl. Add a little pasta and give it a stir.If you haven’t used cheese rinds, now would be a good time to add a little fresh-grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. Or a little pecorino Romano, and…
MANGIAMO!
Slim Man Cooks Roasted Vegetables
Ronnie Dunn and the Roasted VegetablesBack in the mid-1980s, a good friend of mine asked me to help him organize a country music talent contest. Nationwide.The friend was Carl Griffin – the guy who signed me to Motown. We were both “in between engagements” at the time, which is a polite way of saying “out-of-work” in showbiz. My band, BootCamp, had just broken up. My girlfriend and I had just broken up, too. I was all broked up. And broke.Carl had Marlboro as a sponsor. Marlboro wanted us to find the next big country music star. They didn’t want to just run a contest--they wanted whoever won to be HUGE. Marlboro wanted to be a leading force in the country music scene. They sank a ton of dough into sponsoring concert tours and talent contests.Carl wasn’t a big country music fan. Neither was I. The only two country CDs I had were a Best-of Hank Williams, Sr. and the first Dwight Yoakum. But when Carl told me how much Marlboro was paying, I started liking country music a whole lot more.
Carl ran the talent contest out of New York City. He asked me to organize the contestants, which I did for the first two tours. For my third Marlboro tour? Carl asked me to MC and host the shows. A promotion!Marlboro wanted me to have an assistant, someone to do my old job – organize the bands. The first call I made was to Hit Man Howie Z, also known as Howard Zizzi. Howie was the drummer in my band, BootCamp.He was in between engagements, too. Howie signed on. We hit the road. Two city boys heading out into the Wild Wild West.Marlboro chose a bunch of markets – mostly small southern towns — all across the USA. Bands would submit their music to the NYC office, and the New Yorkers would choose 30 bands for each town. Ten bands a night, three nights in a row, all in the same club.In each town, we had a panel of judges – local music biz folks – who would choose one band to represent their town at the finals in Nashville. The contests were held in what I affectionately call honkytonk hellholes — rough and tumble small clubs on the outskirts of a town.The grand prize was substantial — a $50,000 production deal with Barry Beckett, who produced Hank Williams, Jr. and Bob Dylan, among others.Each band had 15 minutes on stage. If you went over your 15 minutes, big points were deducted. That was a strict rule.
Let me set the stage – a small town, a small club, packed with country music fans, smoking the free Marlboros they’d been given. The lights go dim. Lee Greenwood’s “God Bless The USA” blasts out of the speakers. The song finishes, a spotlight cuts a beam through the fog of cigarette smoke and lands on a microphone stand, center stage…The very first time I walked on stage and looked over the audience, I could feel the apprehension. It got mighty quiet. I could almost hear the whispers, “Where is this boy from? New York City?”I introduced myself to the crowd. My real name is real long, real complicated and real Italian. I looked totally out-of-place, like Joe Pesci in My Cousin Vinny. People didn’t throw stuff at me, but I did see some folks looking around for a piece of rope and checking their guns for ammo.I didn’t get killed that first night, but I decided I needed a stage name, something to lighten things up. The next day, I came up with a nickname- Slim Chance. Slim, because I thought it was a good countrified name. And Chance, because it was a talent contest, after all. From then on I introduced myself as Slim Chance. It didn’t get a ton of laughs, but at least it kept the cowboys from pulling out their six-guns. From that point on, I kept my stage banter light and lively.One day Howie and I pulled into Tulsa, Oklahoma. The contest was at a place called Tulsa City Limits. We got the club ready for the big show. We made sure the Marlboro signs were hung. We made sure the sound company was good to go, and that the judges were ready to judge.
The bands showed up for their sound checks. There were some good bands that day, but nothing really knocked us out. When the last band started their soundcheck, the whole club went silent. They were incredible. The drummer was amazing. The singer was even more amazing. He had a great voice. I looked at Howie and said,“Here’s our big winner. This Guy’s going all the way.”When The Guy and his band played that night, they killed. Killed.The local favorite happened to be a gal named Suzy Brandt. She packed the place with her fans. Towards the end of her 15 minutes, she started yodeling, the way some country singers do on occasion. Then she started yodeling faster. And faster. And higher. And higher. I thought her head was gonna explode. Suzy kept on yodeling. She was going so fast it sounded like she was speaking in tongues, like Robert DeNiro at the end of Cape Fear.Suzy went into overtime. She finally stopped. The crowd went wild. I went out to the microphone, told everybody to sit tight and that I’d be back with our big winner. I went into the back room with the judges. We totaled up their score sheets. Suzy had won. But when we deducted the penalty points for the overtime yodeling, she came in second.Who came in first?The Guy. The Guy went on to win the national finals in Nashville. My psychic prediction came true. Marlboro started grooming this Guy for success. Barry Beckett produced some songs for The Guy, Scott Hendricks engineered the session, and everything was going great, when suddenly -Nothing happened. The Guy couldn’t get a record deal. Not a nibble. A few years later, the engineer—Scott Hendricks—played one of the songs for a record executive who was looking for a country music duo. The executive already had one half of the duo—a guy named Kix Brooks--and needed the second half. When he heard the Barry Beckett demo of The Guy, he put the two halves together and they became…Brooks and Dunn. Ronnie Dunn was the Guy who sang at Tulsa City Limits when Howie and I were doing the Marlboro Contest. His drummer, Jamie Oldaker, had played with Eric Clapton a few years before. It was Jamie who entered Ronnie Dunn into the contest. Brooks and Dunn went on to become one of the most successful country music duos ever.
A few years ago, I was playing a small jazz club in Fresno, California. I walked outside the hotel and took a jog. On the way back, I noticed a bunch of 18-wheelers, painted black, parked outside the big auditorium downtown. The fleet of trucks had the Brooks and Dunn steer horns logo on the side.I finished my jog and walked inside the hotel. And who was walking out? Ronnie Dunn. He said,“Slim! Man! How are ya?”And the Slim Man name was born.Roasted VegetablesAfter a long night of honky-tonkin’, ain’t nothin’ like some roasted vegetables to soak up 
the booze and ease the joints. Here at Slim’s Shady Trailer Park, I roast vegetables a lot. Why? It’s easy—you chop ‘em up, add a little olive and salt and pepper and stick them in the oven.Another reason? Roasted vegetables are real healthy.The most important reason? They are molto delizioso. That’s Italian Cowboy talk for, “These vittles are lip-smackin’ good!”The other night, I decided to make dinner. The first thing I did was chop up some red beets. I added a little olive oil and salt and pepper. Then I stuck them in the oven while I prepared some salmon with my incredibly incredible cippolini and bell pepper sauce.I roasted the beets for 20 minutes at 400 degrees. Then I gave them a stir and put them back in the oven. I checked them every 10 minutes, stuck them with a fork. It took about an hour, total.Sometimes, it takes less than an hour. The last time I cooked beets, it took about 40 minutes, total. I used the same oven, the same baking dish, but it took 20 minutes less. Why?Who the hell knows!
The important thing to remember is…give the vegetables a stir after 20 minutes, and stab ‘em with a fork. If it goes in easily, the vegetables are done. Most likely, they’re not. Put them back in the oven, and check every 10 minutes or so. Average cooking time is about 50 minutes for beets, carrots, potatoes, things like that.When they’re done, take them out of the oven and let them cool for a couple of minutes. You don’t want to be burning the roof of your mouth!That’s my basic roasting method. Olive oil and salt and pepper, roasted in a 400 degree oven for 40 minutes to an hour.A few IMPORTANT things…Use a metal pan if you want your vegetables to be crispy on the outside. When I cook potatoes or sweet potatoes, I use a metal pan, because I want the outsides to be crunchy.I use a glass baking dish when cooking beets and carrots, because they roast better that way.When roasting vegetables, it’s important to remember to roast vegetables that are similar.For instance, sometimes I roast red beets and carrots together. They both take about the same amount of time, about 50 minutes, usually.Zucchini and summer squash roast together quite nicely, they only take about 15 or 20 minutes.I like roasting potatoes. I use red potatoes, or Yukon gold. I also roast sweet potatoes. Sweet!There are so many variations. Here is the basic roasted beets recipe, followed by some delectable variations.Makes 4 side servings, perfect with just about any Slim dish!
Roasted Red BeetsINGREDIENTS4 cups of red beets1 ½ tablespoons of olive oilSalt and pepper to tasteOPTIONAL: 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegarHere we go…Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.Wash and peel the beets. Cut the smaller beets in quarters, cut the larger beets in eighths. The larger the pieces, the longer they take to cook. They should be about the size of your average strawberry.Put the beets in a glass baking dish. I used an 8”x11” dish, and 4 cups fit perfectly.Drizzle with the olive oil and mix. Make sure they are coated with oil, but not swimming in it!Add the salt and pepper. I start off with about a ½ teaspoon of kosher salt, and about 6 turns of the peppermill.Mix, make sure all the beets have a bit of salt and pepper on them.Put them in the oven.After 20 minutes, give the beets a good stir. Then, stick a fork in one. If it goes in easily, they are done. My average cooking time for roasted beets is about 50 minutes.Check every 10 minutes or so. When the fork goes in easily, they are done.When the beets are done, take them out of the oven, and let them cool for a few minutes.If you want, you can add a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar.Toss gently and serve.That’s it!MANGIAMO!Beet Variations:
Roasted Red and Yellow BeetsUse 2 cups of red beets and 2 cups of yellow beets, and follow the instructions above.Roasted Red Beets and CarrotsUse 2 cups of red beets and 2 cups of baby carrots and follow the directions above.
Roasted Red Beets with Goat Cheese and Chives and Balsamic VinegarFollow the instructions above. When the beets are done, pull them out of the oven. Add a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar and stir. Crumble 3 or 4 ounces of goat cheese over top of the warm beets. Top off with about a tablespoon of snipped chives (I use a scissors.)Roasted Potatoes with Rosemary and ShallotsPreheat your oven to 400 degrees.Use red potatoes or Yukon gold potatoes. Scrub the potatoes. Leave the skin on! Cut them in quarters.INGREDIENTS4 cups red or Yukon gold potatoes, scrubbed, skin on, and quartered1 ½ tablespoons olive oil1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary1 tablespoon chopped fresh shallotsSalt and pepperHere we go... Put the potatoes on a metal baking pan. You can line it with aluminum foil if you like.Drizzle the olive oil on the potatoes and mix. Make sure each one is coated.Add the rosemary, shallots and salt and pepper. Mix, make sure each tater gets some love!Put the taters in the oven.After 20 minutes, give them a turn. Only stir once! We want each side of the potatoes to get nice and brown.Cook for another 20 minutes. Stick a fork in a piece of tater. If it goes in easily, it’s done.My average cooking time is about 50 minutes.When the potatoes are done, take them out of the oven and…MANGIAMO!
Roasted Sweet PotatoesTwo or three sweet potatoes should give you about 4 cups, depending on their size. Scrub your sweet potatoes. Leave the skin on! Cut them into small wedges.INGREDIENTS:4 cups of sweet potatoes, cut into small wedges1 ½ tablespoons of olive oilSalt and pepperHere we go…Put the sweet potatoes on a metal baking pan. Line with aluminum foil, if you like.Add the olive and mix. Make sure each wedge is coated!Add the salt and pepper and stir. I usually use about ½ teaspoon of kosher salt and 6 twists of the peppermill.Mix the sweet taters again.Put them in the oven.After 20 minutes, turn them over. We want each side to get toasty brown.Let them cook for another 20 minutes.Then, stick a fork in one. If the fork goes in easily, they’re done.Dish ‘em up!MANGIAMO!
Roasted Zucchini and Summer Squash with Oregano and GarlicOne medium zucchini should yield about 2 cups sliced. Same with the summer squash. You’ll need 2 cups of each.Fresh oregano is milder than dried. If you use fresh oregano, you’ll need a tablespoon, chopped. If you’re using dried, a generous teaspoon should do it. I prefer dried for this dish.Scrub your zucchini and summer squash. Slice in circular slices.Peel 4 cloves of garlic, and smash each one with the flat side of a knife.INGREDIENTS2 cups of zucchini, cut in circular slices2 cups of summer squash, cut in circular slices4 cloves of garlic, peeled and smashed1 ½ tablespoons of olive oilSalt and pepper1 teaspoon of oregano (I use dried, you can use either dried or fresh)OPTIONAL: ¼ cup or so of freshly grated Parmiggiano-Reggiano cheeseHere we go…Put the zucchini, squash and garlic in a glass baking dish.Add the olive oil and mix gently. Make sure each piece is coated with olive oil, but not swimming in it. Start off with 1 ½ tablespoons of olive oil. You can add more if you need to.Add the salt, pepper, and oregano and give it a gentle stir.Put it in the oven.After 10 minutes, check your vegetables! Take a stab at a piece of zucchini. If the fork goes in easily, it’s done. Most likely, it ain’t. No need to stir or flip the vegetables.Cook for another 10 minutes and check.They should take about 20 minutes to be done.Take them out of the oven. You can sprinkle a little freshly grated Parmiggiano-Reggiano cheese on top, if you like.Dish it up!MANGIAMO!