A Culinary Victory

My mom once said to me, "If you can read, you can learn to cook."

Yes, I thought, that makes complete sense. A recipe is just a written set of instructions. Not intimidating at all. This is exactly what I needed to hear. Living in my first apartment, my tether to on-campus dining cut, I was not having much luck in the kitchen. I couldn't even manage a bag of Vigo pre-seasoned beans and rice (Don't believe me? Try Worcestershire sauce and a shaky wrist). My problem was that I didn't own a cookbook. Instead of following a recipe, I would throw together some random ingredients and hope for the best. I ended up eating a lot of cheese and crackers that year.

After this nutritionally questionable year, I decided to pick up a cookbook. I read and I read. And eventually, I cooked something. I spent three hours making a risotto (two too many) and it was not just edible, but good. Emboldened, I made more mistakes than I could count, but I kept reading and cooking. And now I know it's true-- I can read, therefore I can make almost anything. But here's the thing. After years of dutifully following recipes, I now realize that what I treasure the most is pulling off a dish with no recipe. When I can cook something by heart.

Do you know someone who cooks everything this way? Who moves around the kitchen like a cyclone, tasting and seasoning, throwing together a salad while they're braising the entree, with not a cookbook in sight? I am so not this person. This improvisational phenom is like a musician who can play a catalog of songs on five different instruments. I can't even play Chopsticks on the piano.

My cookbook-free victories are few and far between. But when the stars align, and I'm able to throw together a tasty dinner with what I have on hand, it's more satisfying than cooking from the most complicated recipe. I love the thrill of a new recipe. But for me, the real joy comes from sharing a simple improvisational meal with friends.

One of very few recipes I keep inside my head is Pasta Genovese. I first read about it in the Silver Spoon Cookbook. The concept is perfectly simple: Fettuccine + Green Beans + Potatoes. Toss them all in a fresh pesto sauce. Serve. Perhaps garnish with Parmesan or pine nuts or a chiffonade of basil, if you're fancy. But that's really it.

I made a Pasta Genovese just a few days after I moved into my new house. In fact, it may have been the first meal I cooked. It's the kind of thing you can throw together if you suddenly find yourself with four rather than two for dinner. It's a dish built for a warm summer night, when the sun has gone down and the heat is just starting to burn off. The pasta and potatoes are hearty, but the green beans speak of summer. And pesto made from freshly picked basil from the garden is the best kind there is. The pasta tastes just as great at room temperature as it does hot out of the pot, so you can feel free to linger over your conversation.

That's what I did that night. I relished every bite of my victorious meal, until the sky grew dark, the cool breezes swept in, and it was time to go inside.

Pasta Genovese
Adapted from The Silver Spoon Cookbook

Approximately:
2 medium-sized potatoes
2 cups green beans
1 pound of fettuccine

For the pesto:
2 cups basil leaves, packed
1/2 cup olive oil
2-3 garlic cloves (to taste)
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Put a large pot of water to boil. Large enough to fit all of the ingredients.
2. Chop the potatoes into 1/2 inch cubes; trim and chop the green beans into bite-sized pieces
3. When the water has come to a rolling boil, drop the potatoes in. Give them at least a 5 minute head start. Next drop the green beans and the pasta in.  Cook until the pasta is al dente (I always look at the recommended cooking time on the box and subtract 2 or 3 minutes)
4. Make the pesto: In a food processor, chop up the garlic. Add the basil. Then slowly pour the olive oil in through the feed tube, so it's incorporated gradually. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
5. Drain the pasta, potatoes and beans. Return to the pot. Mix in the pesto. And serve!

Note: Make sure you have enough pesto to generously coat the pasta. If you think you don't have enough basil on hand, it's better to cut back on the amount of pasta, beans and potatoes, rather than risk a coating that is too thin.