Ricotta-Stuffed Shells with Burrata, Mushrooms, and Herbs & Perfect Herby Salad

I put this recipe off for as long as possible. Not because it didn’t sound good, but because it has more dairy than anyone should eat in a single meal. I’m talking heavy cream, ricotta, parmesan, and mozzarella all filling every imaginable nook and cranny of a 2 quart dish. A delicious stomach ache just begging to happen. 

Well I certainly wasn’t going to eat this one alone. We invited two dear friends over, Elli and Christian, to help us eat it and make it. Why not make the Great Dairy Assembly, as I’m now going to call it, a communal activity? 

Before our friends arrived, I went ahead and started the mushrooms roasting in the oven as well as bringing a pot of salted water to a boil for the pasta. Alison recommends a variety of mushrooms, but I just went for the straightforward pre-sliced baby Bella mushroom cartons at TJ’s. I’ve cooked a lot of her mushroom recipes lately, and I was honestly over spending $7 for 5oz. of little shiitakes. 

I scored some gluten free shells on Amazon, Tinkyada Brown Rice Grand Shells. The packaging says to boil the shells for 15-16 minutes for al dente, so that’s what I did. The edges of the shells were very cooked by that point, but the centers were a little tougher, harder. I definitely didn’t cook them perfectly, but once you’ve poured out the pasta water, it’s hard to go back. Oh well. I did as Alison instructed and poured the newly cooked shells onto an oiled baking sheet to help them cool and not stick together. This mostly worked. 

Now for the Great Dairy Assembly. Elli took each shell and filled it with the Great Dairy Mixture, consisting of ricotta, heavy cream, shaved parmesan, salt and pepper. One by one, she placed them in the baking dish while I desperately tried to arrange them without letting them tip over and spill their filling. Which turned out to be very difficult. Despite the rather al dente state of the pasta, the shells wanted desperately to let the cheese run out. We made a valiant effort to keep them all intact, but it sure was messy. With the shells filled and haphazardly arranged, we stuffed torn pieces of a mozzarella ball into whatever crevices we could find. Next, we poured heavy cream over the dish, followed by the roasted mushrooms. We baked the dish as instructed, about 35 minutes in total. 

Meanwhile, Elli and I prepared the herbs and lemon zest for topping the pasta, as well as Alison’s Perfect Herby Salad. We used lots of parsley, tarragon, and chives. For the salad, I threw in a bag of mixed greens. Alison’s perfect salad dressing is exactly how I dress my salads 90% of the time anyway: olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. It’s truly all I need to enjoy a salad. 

The shells came out bubbling hot and the mushrooms had turned an even richer brown. We topped them with the fresh herb mixture, and yes, more parmesan. The four of us finished off every shell but one, which wasn’t a Minnesota-nice move, I swear — we were just too full to fathom eating one more shell.

206 and 207 recipes cooked, 18 to go.

Pizza Night by Alison Roman

Gosh, I love pizza. And this was really good pizza. I saved this recipe for the end of the project, knowing I’d need something to look forward to amidst all the seafood. 

The dough is made using Alison’s Overnight Focaccia, Tonight recipe. I wrote a funky stream-of-consciousness essay about that focaccia here. The dough is proved and ready for baking within about 3 hours of starting the recipe. So, hoping to eat at 6:00pm, I started the dough at 3:00pm. 

While the dough rose, I made Alison’s simple tomato sauce. And I’ll admit, it seemed almost too simple. A few smashed garlic cloves, a can of tomatoes, salt and pepper. I don’t want to make tomato sauce complicated, but would this have enough flavor? The answer is most certainly, yes. She’s not specific about salt amounts, so I used 1 tsp., in keeping with the fairly simple tomato sauce recipe I love from Julia Turshen’s “Small Victories.” The sauce needs only a half hour or so to thicken up a bit and let the garlic infuse the tomatoes. I didn’t have whole peeled tomatoes on hand, just diced. Once the tomatoes were warmed through, I crushed them against the side of the pot with the back of a wooden spoon to achieve a similar texture and consistency. 

I love how simple, yet effective Alison’s topping suggestions are. Little is required to prep them beyond slicing a red onion and tearing up pieces of kale. She leaves all the work for the assembly, which is the most fun part any way. This recipe creates two pizzas, however I wanted to cook them one at a time. Stacking two baking sheets in my oven makes everything take longer and cook more imprecisely. To stagger the pizzas, I separated the dough in two after the second rise and put half in the fridge, covered in saran wrap. I let the first dough prove on a baking sheet, then topped it for baking about 35 minutes later. 

The first pizza was Alison’s Pepperoni Pie, and I followed it to a tee: tomato sauce, mozzarella, pepperoni, red onion, olive oil drizzled over the crust, then sprinkled with flaky salt. The instructions say to bake for 30 to 35 minutes. I removed my pie in 30 minutes, and found that the crust got a little overbaked. It was rather tough to bite into. I course-corrected the second pie and took it out in 27 minutes. The crust was comparatively easier to chew, but still achieved that toasty, golden look. 

While the pepperoni pie baked in the oven, I let the second dough prove on a sheet pan for the other pizza: Lemony Greens Pie. Jordan and I are big “meat on my pizza” people, so I was shocked to hear that both he and one of our dinner guests preferred this pizza over the pepperoni pie. I was worried that this pie wouldn’t have much going for it, flavor-wise, but I was wrong. 

I followed Alison’s topping list again: whole milk ricotta, topped with torn kale massaged in olive oil, grated parmesan, red onion, olive oil drizzled over the crust, then sprinkled with flaky salt. I also added red pepper flakes for a touch of heat. After the pizza came out of the oven, I topped it with parsley and lemon juice, plus a few finely chopped anchovies. The kale comes out partially crisped, and the parmesan becomes sort of crunchy and golden. Lemon juice really unites the ingredients and makes them taste brighter. 

I served the pizzas with Alison’s Crushed Peas and Burrata Salad (a great combo!), and her Coconut Banana Cream Pudding (post to come). 

This recipe has inspired me to get more creative and adventurous with my pizzas. Homemade pizza using store-bought dough is a common meal in our home, and I tend to use the same topping combinations each time. I’m excited to start using more variations per Alison’s list of toppings and improvise with what I have on hand. For example, I recently purchased a bag of nutritional yeast that I should try sprinkling on top of my next pizza. I doubt I’ll make her dough many more times, as I don’t love the way the crust turned out more crunchy than chewy. I think the Whole Foods brand of pizza dough cooks perfectly and takes far less effort. But that dough, topped with Alison’s topping combos? Now that’s a pizza night I look forward to.  

203 recipes cooked, 22 to go.

Butter Beans, Tangy Mushrooms, Baked Pasta with Artichokes and Cheese, and Margaret

This is a Margaret Winchell Appreciation Post. 

Margaret is one of the dearest friends I have ever known. She’s one of the few people I can talk on the phone with for hours and forget how long it’s been. Her phone calls are like menthol when you have a bad cold. They clear your head, open up your chest, and lead you to hope that you’ll feel better very soon. 

Margaret is brilliant. Not in a tongue and cheek way. She’s actually brilliant, especially when it comes to music, teaching, cooking, baking, musical theater, leadership, and multi-tasking. Her brilliance can sometimes intimidate others when they first meet her. But after spending time with Margaret, you realize she uses her brilliance to draw others in. 

Margaret, as I just mentioned, is a phenomenal, intuition-driven cook, with instincts so sharp, they could pierce a stale loaf of bread like a tip of a Global knife. It’s her passion for food and hospitality that turned me on to cooking as well. We became real friends after college, right at the time that I was learning to cook myself. She showed me the way. She took me under her wing and had me cook alongside her in preparation for our weekly dinners with Amy, and then usually at some point over the weekends, too. We did a lot of cooking together those days. Margaret also introduced me to New York Times Cooking, which revolutionized what I cook. 

Margaret visited me last weekend, along with her grad school pal, Evan. A most delightful duo. I went into my suburban office on Friday for work, and took the 4:57pm train home. I walked through the door to find my dearest friend Margaret already through two of Alison’s recipes, and half way through a third. This spoke volumes to me. I could almost cry. When this project felt close to impossible, far out of reach from my energy coffers, Margaret stood in the gap, and darn well filled it. 

I can claim essentially no credit for cooking these three recipes, and that’s okay. I’ll let my friend serve me in this way. I did, however, eat all three dishes, and talked to Margaret at length about their preparation. So in lieu of describing a cooking process, I’ll offer here just a few thoughts and takeaways about each one: 

Vinegar-Marinated Butter Beans: 

• Something was UP with these beans. I had on hand a can of Eden Organic Butter Beans that had not expired, and were, you know, supposedly organic. But the best word to describe the final dish is “bitter.” We mused over this conundrum. Vinegar is acidic, but it shouldn’t taste bitter. Garlic can be bitter if you leave the green tips that sometimes sprout out the tops, but Margaret didn’t do this. What we’re left with are the beans. Something must be wrong with the beans. This dish has potential if you don’t have weird beans. It even keeps leftovers for up to two weeks, which I would normally do. But alas, we tossed our bitter beans. 

Tangy-Roasted Mushrooms: 

• Mushrooms, a good variety of them, are expensive, but worth it, IMO. 

• Mushrooms don’t shrink much when you roast them. They just get silkier in texture. 

• Thinly sliced onions add some fun bits of crunch here. 

• I would serve this at many a gathering. 

Baked Pasta with Artichokes and Too Much Cheese:

• Alison absolutely nails the flavor here. Perfect balance of salty, sour (from the artichokes) and creamy (from all that cheese). Pro tip: the flavor gets a glow-up when you add a few tangy-roasted mushrooms on the side. 

• We are floored that Alison doesn’t mention any options for ready-to-bake noodles. This feels like an obvious miss for the many people who don’t want to deal with the labor of parboiling noodles before assembling the dish. We simply refused to parboil, and so put our ready-to-bake noodles straight into the casserole. The top layer of noodles sure stayed tough and became like noodle chips. Not the worst outcome, but certainly not the most optimal. 

• In our humble, yet knowledgeable opinions, we don’t love the lasagna noodle choice. We believe in using a penne or rigatoni. We want to avoid the noodle chip effect.

171, 172, 173 recipes cooked, 52 to go.