Mea Culpa Pasta

I am trying to follow President Obama’s stellar management syle: finding consensus, setting aside old antagonisms with Republicans, seeking solutions, not blame, letting go of assumptions, and being open and honest. The latter is perhaps the hardest part when it comes to being a politician or cooking for my husband (otherwise known in the blog as my SO or Significant Other).

Politicians have to appeal to  many interest groups, trying to satisfy them all. Often they are forced into corners to appease one group, and have to weasel their way out by denying ever having made a clearly taped sound bite, or worse, having to admit that they “mis-poke”. Hilary’s description of dodging bullets in Bosnia comes painfully to mind. (My hope is that we never find President Obama in that position, but who knows, politics make strange soup.)

Comparatively speaking I have it easy. I have only one constituent to satisfy, my SO, yet he comes with a culinary constituency of  highly refined opinions about certain foods.

If I were a culinary politician, and pandered to his every whim I would be cooking a never ending rotation of turkey breast, meat loaf, brisket, mashed potatoes, chicken cutlets, anything and everything Italian and Jewish. He likes olive oil but won’t eat olives; he hates anchovies; loves pit barbecue and bacon but won’t eat pork; loves Indian food in restaurants but when I cook it at home asks “What’s that terrible smell?” as I toast the spices. He will eat halibut, salmon and sole; grapefruit, grapes and berries but infrequently.

But if I pandered, I would not be able to express myself culinarily and lucky for me, he understands that and has, therefore, had a different meal every night for dinner for the 28 years of our marriage. And to his credit while his tastes haven’t changed that much, he has started to like and eat a far more varied diet thanks to my frequently changing passions be it low fat, no red meat, fish at least once a week, full-bore vegetarian, Indian, Middle Eastern, you name it.

By now, if he’s reading this, he will be saying “That’s not fair. I eat everything on my plate.” Factually speaking, he is correct. He is a good politician. He ate them, yes. At the same time, he didn’t comment on many of them either and looked askance at leftovers sneaked into pasta or pizza.

At the same time however, I , another good (old-time) politician have had to, um, be creative in my descriptions of dishes, leaving out key ingredients whose very presence would make him grimace and take tiny bites, fishing around the offensive items in search of something he deemed edible. But frankly, I am tired of the old”he didn’t ask, I won’t tell” paradigm.

And so, in the interests of starting a new administration, so to speak, I have a confession to make. I have been cheating on my husband; and I have been doing it for some years now. Once, I actually told him about it and, naturally, he wasn’t happy  While upset, he didn’t throw up, walk out or swear he’d never trust me again. He was just disappointed that I hadn’t been truthful.

And yet I continued to cheat: I used anchovies in a dish, and didn’t tell him; I made him pork cutlets and said they were veal; he never noticed chopped olives in tomato sauce; an Indian dish was described as chili; sustainable sea bass was said to be halibut. I could go on in the interests of open and honest communication, but you get my drift.

And just last night, in possession of a sample of lovely, silky fresh black and white fettucine, I made Mea Culpa Pasta with not black and white mushroom pasta (as described to my SO) but squid ink pasta, knowing full well if the truth were known,  he would wrinkle his nose and likely say in a forlorn voice “Can’t we ever eat anything normal?” And spear the mushrooms like valuable truffles from a forest of despoiled pasta.

So when he admired the dish and took seconds, I felt mildly justified in my deceit and  equally bad given my Obama intentions to abandon assumptions (he won’t eat it if I tell him) and to tell the truth (“The black part? Oh, it’s made with squid ink but you won’t taste it.”).  And so like Governor Blagojevich, while I regret the words I used, I have come clean and told the truth.

Will I deceive my SO in the future? Let me think about it.

Now that’s an answer no politician is ever allowed to make and yet that’s the truth.

Mea Culpa Pasta

Serves 2 generously

1 rasher bacon, finely diced

2 Tbsp olive oil

1 onion, diced

1 generous handful thinly, thinly sliced green cabbage

1 shallot, diced

1 clove garlic, thinly sliced

1/4 cup sherry

2 cups chicken stock

2 sprigs fresh thyme

3 cups assorted sliced cultivated mushrooms or small whole wild mushrooms (I used whole chanterelles and sliced shiitake)

1 Tbsp dried porcini pieces

1/2 cup frozen or fresh peas

1/2 cup diced smoked turkey, chicken or ham

200g fresh squid ink pasta, preferably one with holes, squiggles, or pockets

Grated Parmesan Reggiano

1. Bring a large pot of water to a low boil while you prepare the sauce. Fresh pasta, depending upon the variety, cooks in less than 3 minutes so you want to have the sauce and pasta ready at the same time.
2. In a large saucepan set over medium heat, cook the bacon until it is crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain the bits and reserve as the garnish.
3. Add the olive oil to the bacon fat and reheat until the fat shimmers.
4. Add the onions, shallots and garlic, cooking until they begin to soften.
5. Add the cabbage and toss with the fat. Continue to cook until the onions brown and the bottom of the pan gets sticky with caramelized bits.
6. De-glaze the pan with the sherry, scraping up the bits and reducing the sherry to a thick syrup.
7. Scrape the contents of the pan into a small bowl and set aside.
8. Heat an additional 1 Tbsp olive oil in the pan. When hot add the mushrooms and cook until they sizzle and start to release their juices. Eventually they will begin to stick to the pan.
9. As soon as this begins, add the stock and bring to a boil.
10. Reduce to a simmer and add the dried mushrooms and thyme.
11. Simmer until reduced by about a quarter. Add the reserved onion mixture and peas. Stir to blend. Add the diced smoked turkey.
12. Taste for seasoning. Add salt and pepper as required (different stocks require different levels of salt so be careful to taste before you add).
13. Drop the pasta in to the simmering water and return to a boil. Cook for no more than 3 minutes and preferably 2 since the pasta will cook further in the sauce for a minute or two.
14. Remove the pasta from the water with a strainer or tongs and place on top of the sauce. Toss coating it well. If the sauce seems too dry, add some pasta water, tablespoon by tablespoon and heat through for no more than a minute or two.
15. Pour into a serving dish and sprinkle with the reserved bacon bits. Pass around the Parmesan cheese.