Avanzi, Italy's glorious leftovers

You know me. I'm the one fixated with not throwing away food. I so firmly believe in recycling leftovers that I purposely cook in larger quantities than needed in order to have uneaten food to work with later.

After a sad few days of the BRAT diet (bananas, rice, apple, toast)––my son and I caught the stomach bug of 2016 late––I needed something to revive my depressed taste buds.

So for dinner yesterday I "made" two sensational Southern Italian dishes with avanzi. Made is actually too bold of a term, let's say I transformed leftover spaghetti into Neapolitan frittata di maccheroni and day-old green beans into Sicilian fagiolini alla muddica.

A week ago I made enough Puttanesca for 10 (there were 7 guests, 3 of which kids) so naturally I had a bowl of it sitting in the back of the fridge. The sauce made with this summer's pommarola, brined olives and minuscule capers from Pantelleria stuck to the noodles and was still fragrant. I didn't have to think twice: frittata di maccheroni. Every Neapolitan homemaker has this recipe in their repertoire.

I loosened the spaghetti from their bowl-shape and mixed in 4 beaten eggs.
I transferred the slippery mix to a heavy-bottomed pan with just a drizzle of olive oil and gently heated for about 5 minutes, until a delicious crust started forming on the bottom. My mother's trick is beating one more egg with salt and pepper and pouring it on the surface. This helps set the frittata.
I covered the pan for another 2 minutes, checking that the bottom didn't darken too much: browned frittata is dry and disgusting.
At this point of cooking frittata you have to be resourceful for the flipping portion of the recipe.
I use a lipless lid and good balancing skills to slide the uncooked side back into the pan.
On the whole, another plus is that this dish takes about 10-12 minutes to make. So while wisely thrifty, you're also budgeting time.

But my recycled carbs with high-protein needed a vegetal side. I glanced at the handful of yesterday's steamed green beans sitting suffocated under a plastic wrap cover. I reached in for the bowl and let the contents warm to room temperature on the countertop while I made the seasoned breadcrumbs.

I have a small fabric pouch where all my bread corners, broken breadsticks and uneaten slices fall into. This is what's known around the house as the Pangrattato Pouch. All the hardened bits of sourdough in there become breadcrumbs. I transfer the amount needed in a sturdy airtight plastic bag and arm myself with a rolling pin. I seal the bag and bash the hunks of bread to the desired powder grain. I prefer coarse. To the ziploc I then add powdered herbs, seasoned salt and a fistful of polenta (cornmeal) for crunch.

I toasted the breadcrumbs with olive oil and 2 cloves of garlic. A salt-saving, flavor-boosting trick is adding 2-3 oil-packed anchovies and working them into the crumbs with the tines of a fork. When the breadcrumbs clumped together to a crispy crumble, I added the green beans, tossing to coat and heat through. I didn't need to adjust seasoning, so I served immediately.

A tavola!

Frittata alla Mentuccia recipe

This is a first.

For years, I've been a cynical anti-Valentine advocate. I posted about my unsympathetic stand towards the lovers' holiday in this post. I still find the commercial exploitation revolting, but this year I decided to wipe away the cynicism and support the Amore occasion with the naïvety of a blushing girl's first crush.

And what better way than with a delicious demonstration of my feelings?

While throngs of lovers exchange sappy cards, gifts and heart-shaped boxes of chocolate, I will break my celebratory embargo with an unconventional savory treat:

Frittata alla Mentuccia - Peppermint Frittata

Ingredients
50 g (1/4 cup) bacon, cut in matchsticks
A bunch of fresh peppermint
1 clove of garlic, minced
Dash of Pecorino cheese, grated
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper
6 eggs


Soak the peppermint in plenty of water and a fistful of baking soda to eliminate traces of field dirt and unwanted chemicals. Rinse several times and pat dry. Trim away stems and chop finely, to yield about 1/4 cup of minced leaves.

Film a large skillet with 3 tablespoons of olive oil and sauté the bacon with the minced garlic. Remove from the skillet with a slotted spoon and set aside. Leave the bacon drippings in the pan, you'll be cooking the frittata in them. Yes, I know – I'm drooling too.

In a mixing bowl, break the eggs, add a fistful of grated Pecorino, and break the yolks with a fork. Stir, folding in the chopped peppermint and crisp bacon, and mix well. If the eggs are superfresh and thus rich in "gluey" albumen, I usually splash in a drop of milk to dilute the eggy mix. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper, and let it sit while you put the skillet back on the stove to heat the bacon drippings.

Pour the blend in the skillet and reduce the heat to low. Cook slowly for about 5 minutes, or until you can lift the bottom of the frittata off the the pan with a spatula. If you can flip omelets like a perfect French chef, go ahead. I slide mine from the skillet onto a flat, wide lid; and flipping that over the pan in order to cook the other side, accident-free, for another 2-3 minutes.

Adjust seasoning, slice in large wedges and stuff in warm ciabatta bread. Pack the sandwiches in a picnic hamper, along with a bottle of wine, some aged cheese, juicy pears, and a thermos of piping hot espresso. Take the rest of that day off, folding spacious blanket underarm, ready to go make out in the park with your significant other. And not just because it's Valentine's Day.

Leek Frittata recipe

Making frittata unscrambles the mojo.

Even if you enjoy cooking like myself, at the end of a hard working day the last thing you want is finding the energy for it. Although calling in for delivered pizza seems like the easiest option, I remind myself how a few minutes of stove side multitasking can help me unwind. Whisking eggs and whatever's left over in the fridge into an omelet was my Nonna Titta's lazy supper solution. Paired with a crisp salad, warm bread and a glass of robust red wine, simple frittata turns a modest dinner into a feast.

Image © yumsugar.com

Frittata di Porri - Leek Frittata

Denser than the whisked, French omelette; Italian frittata is always cooked whole, served sliced like a pizza, and not folded over. Leek frittata is my favorite quick fix oner. Delicate yet assertive, it can be great as a stand-alone TV dinner or sandwich filler for picnics and kids’ lunchbox. I make one mean frittata, here's how:

4 eggs, beaten
2 large leeks
1 tbsp milk
1/2 bouillon cube
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt to taste

Soak the leeks in plenty cold water and baking soda to remove any traces of pesticides, chemicals and dirt. Rinse well and towel dry. Thinly slice (a mandoline helps) and toss into a skillet with the oil and 1/2 stock cube over low heat. Cover and simmer, adding a shotglass of water should they dry too much during cooking. Leeks should maintain a handsome blonde hue, browning causes horrid bitter taste.

In a large mixing bowl, combine beaten eggs, milk and a dash of salt. Pour the mixture in the skillet with the leek and reduce heat. Frittata needs to cook covered and over very low heat. Check doneness by lifting the edge with a fork. If this phase is accomplished well, there will be no need to perform any stunt flipping acts. Otherwise carefully use a lid and firm hand to tip over and slide uncooked side back into the skillet.

This dish begs to be consumed steaming hot, preferably in religious solitude during an important soccer event, accompanied by a tall frozen cold beer and the freedom to belch aloud.