it seems that I've done it again. There is a party at my house on Friday and I can't stop making food. This time, I've really, really tried to keep the menu small and simple...but I can't stop. sigh. It's my way. I feed people. Well, I shove things at them and insist (as politely as possible) they eat. The other day, I mentioned the menu and I've been doing my usual plan of making things ahead. The only problem? I still don't think there's enough food.
All of this ties in neatly with a recent article in Garden & Gun magazine about "Redefining the Southern Belle." The author writes,
I'm certainly not Southern {despite my deep and abiding love for the South and Southern cities}; I'm a proud and unabashed Northeasterner, with sarcasm and a fast walk and the ability to walk past someone on the sidewalk and look right through them, should the situation warrant it. Still, I dress up not to be vain, but to show appreciation for life and the events that take place within mine. I feed my friends, excessively, because grief and happiness, sorrow and joy are intertwined and all need to be shared over something made at home, with love, and a glass of wine.
Yesterday I put together a zucchini mushroom ricotta lasagne, with homemade red sauce, homemade ricotta, and enough pots & pans on the stove to cover all four burners. Granted, I went a bit overboard (did I have to make my own ricotta? no. red sauce? yes.). In the end, food prep is as much for me as it is to be generous to the people in my life. The repetitive chopping and slicing, sizzle and scent are a soothing melody in an often overstressed world. Plus, a dish with only vegetables, no carbs, and no meat has to win some sort of heath award, ricotta and butter notwithstanding.
Zucchini Mushroom Ricotta Lasagne
This is the sort of recipe that scales up and down most easily. It's more of a collection of layers and ingredients, spiced to taste. So, no amounts, just ingredients and what to do with them.
zucchini
onion
green bell pepper
garlic
butter
olive oil
portabella mushrooms
white wine
rosemary
basil
oregano
salt
pepper
sugar
flour
cornstarch
mozzarella or provolone cheese
Parmesan cheese
Before cooking anything, wash and slice the zucchini lengthwise into lasagne noodle shapes. Place on cooling racks in cookie sheets and sprinkle with salt to allow the excess water to seep out. You won't want soggy zucchini.
I began cooking with the red sauce, but if you aretoo lazy pressed for time, go ahead and use some you've got tucked away, leftover, in the freezer in a jar. To make an easy tomato sauce, saute diced onions, bell pepper, and minced garlic in some olive oil until softened. Add diced tomatoes, sugar, basil, and oregano to taste, allow to simmer for 20 minutes. Blend with a hand blender to desired smoothness, then allow to cook down while cooking the mushroom layer.
For the mushroom ricotta layer, saute minced onions, bell pepper, and garlic in butter with rosemary until softened. Add diced mushrooms and a semi-sweet white wine, allow to cook down for 15 minutes with a lid on. Add enough ricotta (homemade, if desired) to thicken to a meat sauce consistency.
Finally, dredge the zucchini "noodles" in a half flour, half cornstarch mixture, then brown in a hot skillet.
Begin with a thin layer of red sauce in the bottom of a sprayed casserole dish, then a layer of zucchini. Next a layer of the mushroom/ricotta mix. Repeat until you've filled your baking dish or run out of ingredients, making sure that the top layer is at least some mushroom/ricotta or red sauce, preferably both. Cover with a layer of thinly sliced or shredded mozzarella or provolone cheese, then finely grated Parmesan.
Since I prepared the lasagne for Friday's party, I held off on the top layer of cheese and just covered it with aluminum foil and stuck it into the fridge. Bake at 400 degrees until all bubbly and the cheese is melted and crispy on top. If it's fully hot, but the cheese isn't crispy, put it under the broiler for golden, gooey cheese finish.This is for my casual Halloween party, but it works just as easily for any occasion where you need to feed a group or feel the need for a casserole.
"Be well. Do good work. Keep in touch." - Garrison Kellior
To be born a Southern woman is to be made aware of your distinctiveness. And with it, the rules. The expectations. These vary some, but all follow the same basic template, which is, fundamentally, no matter what the circumstance, Southern women make the effort. Which is why even the girls in the trailer parks paint their nails. And why overstressed working moms still bake three dozen homemade cookies for the school fund-raiser.... It also means never leaving the house with wet hair. Not even in the case of fire. Because wet hair is low-rent. It shows you don’t care, and not caring is not something Southern women do, at least when it comes to our hair. This is less about vanity than self-respect...The reason we Southern women take care of ourselves is because, simply, Southern women are caretakers...For me, these aren't a list of things just quantifying Southern women. I might argue that this isn't just Southern women, but country women, old-fashioned women, women of substance found anywhere and everywhere, but this, this right here, is why I dress up & bake & try very hard to take care of my friends and family. It feels like a list of things I've picked up somewhere, and a list of rules to live by.
There are other defining attributes, some more quantifiable than others. Southern women know how to bake a funeral casserole and why you should. Southern women know how to make other women feel pretty...Southern women know you can’t outrun your past, that manners count, and that your mother deserves a phone call every Sunday. Southern women can say more with a cut of their eyes than a whole debate club’s worth of speeches. Southern women know the value of a stiff drink, among other things...there are rules worth following and expectations worth trying to meet, even if you fail.
I'm certainly not Southern {despite my deep and abiding love for the South and Southern cities}; I'm a proud and unabashed Northeasterner, with sarcasm and a fast walk and the ability to walk past someone on the sidewalk and look right through them, should the situation warrant it. Still, I dress up not to be vain, but to show appreciation for life and the events that take place within mine. I feed my friends, excessively, because grief and happiness, sorrow and joy are intertwined and all need to be shared over something made at home, with love, and a glass of wine.
Yesterday I put together a zucchini mushroom ricotta lasagne, with homemade red sauce, homemade ricotta, and enough pots & pans on the stove to cover all four burners. Granted, I went a bit overboard (did I have to make my own ricotta? no. red sauce? yes.). In the end, food prep is as much for me as it is to be generous to the people in my life. The repetitive chopping and slicing, sizzle and scent are a soothing melody in an often overstressed world. Plus, a dish with only vegetables, no carbs, and no meat has to win some sort of heath award, ricotta and butter notwithstanding.
This is the sort of recipe that scales up and down most easily. It's more of a collection of layers and ingredients, spiced to taste. So, no amounts, just ingredients and what to do with them.
zucchini
onion
green bell pepper
garlic
butter
olive oil
portabella mushrooms
white wine
rosemary
basil
oregano
salt
pepper
sugar
flour
cornstarch
mozzarella or provolone cheese
Parmesan cheese
Before cooking anything, wash and slice the zucchini lengthwise into lasagne noodle shapes. Place on cooling racks in cookie sheets and sprinkle with salt to allow the excess water to seep out. You won't want soggy zucchini.
I began cooking with the red sauce, but if you are
For the mushroom ricotta layer, saute minced onions, bell pepper, and garlic in butter with rosemary until softened. Add diced mushrooms and a semi-sweet white wine, allow to cook down for 15 minutes with a lid on. Add enough ricotta (homemade, if desired) to thicken to a meat sauce consistency.
Finally, dredge the zucchini "noodles" in a half flour, half cornstarch mixture, then brown in a hot skillet.
Begin with a thin layer of red sauce in the bottom of a sprayed casserole dish, then a layer of zucchini. Next a layer of the mushroom/ricotta mix. Repeat until you've filled your baking dish or run out of ingredients, making sure that the top layer is at least some mushroom/ricotta or red sauce, preferably both. Cover with a layer of thinly sliced or shredded mozzarella or provolone cheese, then finely grated Parmesan.
Since I prepared the lasagne for Friday's party, I held off on the top layer of cheese and just covered it with aluminum foil and stuck it into the fridge. Bake at 400 degrees until all bubbly and the cheese is melted and crispy on top. If it's fully hot, but the cheese isn't crispy, put it under the broiler for golden, gooey cheese finish.This is for my casual Halloween party, but it works just as easily for any occasion where you need to feed a group or feel the need for a casserole.
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