Carmine's: Penne Alla Vodka

To not make the same mistake as last week, I decided to pick the next recipe ahead of time.  It had been a very long day and I wanted one that would be my reward for surviving the week without killing anyone.  It's the little things that count.

My day started when my alarm clock didn't go off.  And by "alarm clock" I mean my 4-year-old, Tyler, who has never slept past 6:30.  Have you ever had that moment when you wake up and you think to yourself, "I feel so rested.  Why do I feel so rested?  I never feel--OH CRAP!"  And then you realize it's because the alarm didn't go off.  That was me and now I had less than an hour to get the kids to school, and me to an appointment, on time.

Some parents, when referring to their children, will compare them to a pack of wild animals.  When I'm on a time crunch, my kids are more like sloths with mono.  Why walk up the stairs when you can sit down and go up them backwards?  Why get dressed quickly when you can do it using one arm while pretending the other one is broken?   Why go right now and tell mom you can't find your shoes when you can wait until it's time to walk out the door?   These are the moments I remind myself in just 4,956 days the last one will leave for college.  I can do anything for 4,956 days, right?

Somehow, we managed to pull it off.  We were going to be on time.  That is...until we walked outside.

Really?  REALLY??  I don't have time to change a flat tire!  After yelling a few choice words (In my head, I can't have Tyler cussing at preschool) I remembered Aaron was out of town and I could just take his car.  I could deal with the flat tire later, kids had school, and I had a doctors appointment in 20 minutes.


No woman enjoys her annual visit to her OB/GYN.  Even the ones who have crushes on their doctors (oh, they're out there) have a hard time enjoying any moment that involves the words "stirrups" or "scoot forward a little," regardless of how cute the doctor is.  Then you get to pretend like it's perfectly normal to chat about your plans for the afternoon or what the weather has been like, while a man you see once a year tells you to raise your arm above your head while he checks for lumps.  Not awkward in the least.

At the end of the appointment he tells me, that at my age, I need to start having mammograms.  He also said I was in luck.  There was a cancelation, and if I could wait 15 minutes, they'd be able to see me next door.  Just great.  Woke up late, flat tire, yearly exam, told I was old, two more flat tires - excuse me - a mammogram, and it's not even 11:00 am.  At this point, all I need is a colonoscopy.

By the end of the day I just wanted to sit down, open my cookbook, and find something that would make this miserable morning a thing of the past.  It's as if Carmine's had read my mind, page 118, Penne Alla Vodka.  It's also been known as Penne Alla Russia.  I think we should call it, Penne Alla Forget About It.  Whenever we have a bad day we want to forget about...page 118, my friends, page 118.


Carmines: Penne Alla Vodka 

First step was to make the marinara sauce.  I've never made a marinara sauce from scratch before, and was genuinely surprised with how easy it was.  Who knew such simple, basic ingredients, was all it took to create something so delicious and versatile in so many recipes.

Once the marinara sauce (pg. 288) was started, I was able to turn my attention back to the vodka sauce.

I have all of my ingredients chopped, sliced, poured, and measured.  I was feeling pretty good about this one.  The recipe says to cook the onions until they begin to soften.  No problem.  Then add the garlic and cook until the onions are golden brown - but to not let the garlic brown.  A little advice...the time from not browned garlic, to burned garlic is surprisingly fast.  Dump it out, wash the pan, cut more onions, chop more garlic, and with lesson learned, we try again.  Much better.

I then add the fresh herbs.  I must say, it's only been twice now that I've used fresh herbs instead of the dried ones in the cupboard, and I love it.  I love the smells, I love the taste, I love how it makes me feel like a super cool mom who cooks with real herbs, and I love the colors it adds.

In addition to the fresh herbs, this particular recipe says to add 1/4 to 1/2 a teaspoon of red pepper flakes.  In the directions, it says to add to taste, which one can correctly assume means somewhere between 1/4 - 1/2 a teaspoon, because that's what's indicated on the list of ingredients.  Not to over use the word love...but I love how even though it says "to taste," it still gave parameters for people like me.  Otherwise, I would have maybe added two little, tiny flakes and Aaron would have added a tablespoon or two.  So far, I'm a big fan of the authors of this cookbook.

Now that this onion, garlic, herb and red pepper mixture is done...it's time to add the vodka and light this baby up!  When I was able to talk with Chef Ford and ask him questions, he actually showed me how they light this recipe on fire.  He added the vodka, dipped the pan slightly into the fire, and whoosh, the pan had flames coming out of it.  That was some mad kitchen skills.  When you start lighting dishes on fire - you're legit.  It looked so easy, I was pretty excited to look all legit with my own mad kitchen skills.  Oh, Brenda.  Will you ever learn?

Here's a twenty second video you can watch, with the assumption, that I too can effortlessly light things on fire with my mad kitchen skills:

Or you can watch the longer, un-edited version, if you want to see the difference between mad kitchen skills and getting mad in the kitchen skills:

Either way - I set food on fire.  On purpose.  That's pretty legit.  I'm thinking my children should start calling me Faux Chef Walker.  Just a thought.  On a side note - thank you, Susan, for filming the awesomeness of the moment and for keeping Aaron out of the kitchen while said awesomeness was taking place.  Aaron, small contained fires, and fire extinguishers are not a good combo.  Another story for another day.

Back to the recipe.  Flames have died out, marinara sauce added and simmered, heavy cream slowly stirred in and brought to a boil.  The recipe says to start the noodles at this point in the process.  Because I didn't read through all of the directions before hand, I had started and finished cooking the noodles well before now.  I'm not sure if after the sauce boils for three minutes, rests off the heat until the noodles are done, and then brought back up to a boil would make a big difference.  I'm not sure if the sauce would have been thicker or if it would be the exact same otherwise.  

Because I already had the noodles cooked, my sauce never cooled down.  After it boiled for three minutes I instantly added the grated cheese, and stirred it for about a minute before dishing it up.  I will definitely, hands down, be making this meal again.  The next time, I will be sure to follow the directions and see if it makes a difference.  I'll let you know.  

This vodka sauce has the most rich and creamy taste, yet it didn't feel heavy.  And the heat from the red pepper flakes made this the best sauce I have ever had.  I was hesitant about adding them because I'm not a big fan of red pepper, but I have to admit, the sauce wouldn't have been as good without it. 

    

Family (and friends) Reviews:

Aaron:  Loved it.  Would have been perfect with more heat, but that's just me, because I like to heat things up...if you know what I mean.  (as he repeatedly moved his eye brows up and down)

Yes, Aaron, we all know what you mean.
                   
Brenda:  Favorite sauce ever.  I'm actually irritated I promised my boss some, because now I won't have leftovers for tomorrow.
                                                       
Noah (future Chopped judge):  I really liked it.  I thought the heat was an excellent choice with the richness of the sauce.  It was a bold move.  Presentation could have been better.

Reagan:  I didn't like the sauce, but I like the grated cheese on my noodles.
(Reagan never eats anything on her noodles, except cheese)

Tyler:  Can I have some cake now?

Susan:  I liked it a lot.  It's probably the best sauce I've ever had.

Seth:  I agree.  One of the best sauces I've ever had.


As I was tucking the kids into bed later that night, they asked me if we could all take turns picking which Carmine's recipe I would make next.  All thoughts of sleep were forgotten the second the word "yes" left my mouth.   A few minutes later I watched as they were flipping through my book, huddled at the kitchen table.

Carmine's: Chicken Contadina

I should probably tell you a little more about my cooking...abilities.  Nothing will ruin a dish I'm trying to cook faster, than if the authors assumes I know what they're talking about.  I recognize this isn't a problem for most people.  Ok, very few people.  Fine, just me.  I'm probably the only person that will stare at instructions that say "add salt and pepper" and actually hesitate because I'm not sure how much to add.  I like salty food, so when you tell me to add salt, momma doesn't mess around.  In reality, they probably meant a pinch of salt would suffice.  If that's the case, be exact, say "add a pinch of salt."  That's why I bought a measuring set that's specific for a smidgen, pinch, and dash amounts.  Don't get me wrong - I'm not like this with anything else in life.  That would be exhausting. I'm only this way with cooking, because when I'm left to my own assumptions or creative thinking, it never bodes well.  

Let me put it this way - if a recipe calls for, lets say, paprika, and you don't have paprika, don't assume that just because something looks like paprika and has the same consistency as paprika that it will work.  Because I can tell you right now, cheyenne pepper IS NOT a good substitute for paprika. Also, if you're making fancy rolls and the recipe calls for malted milk and you don't have malted milk, go to the store and buy some.  Don't try and be creative and mix up some baby formula as a substitute.  It won't work.  Also, when part of the directions in a recipe seem a little...different...pause what you're doing and ask a friend.  Because if you think the new Sticky Chicken recipe you found is letting you pick your own special ingredient...you would be wrong.  If you want to read that conversation, click here.

The last thing I should tell you is my promise to Chef Ford (Carmine's Executive Chef).  Before cooking my first meal, Jill, who is one of the women I met when I got the book, asked me if I would like to meet Chef Ford and ask him for any advice. Um, YES, that would be awesome!  She was amazing in working it out so I could do just that.  Even more amazing is that Chef Ford agreed to it!  The biggest piece of advice he gave me -- which I promised I would follow -- was no shortcuts.  None of this minced garlic in a bottle, or ground ginger in a jar, no dried herbs and no pre-made beef or chicken stock.  I think I've minced fresh garlic, maybe twice in my life.  I'm not 100% sure what fresh ginger looks like.  And the closest I've come to making stock from scratch is pouring the carton of chicken stock in a pot and adding a bullion cube to it.  Regardless, a promise is a promise.  So bring on the garlic bulbs and the ginger whatevers - it's Carmine's night at the Walkers. 

Tonights dinner:   CHICKEN CONTADINA  (pg 218)

I couldn't decide what to make to start out this cooking adventure.  It wouldn't be so hard if all the pictures didn't make me instantly hungry.  Honestly, I could practically hear them calling out, "pick me! pick me! Don't I look amazingly delicious?"  So, I went old school - I closed the book and what ever page I opened it to, that's the one I'd start with.  The other pictures would have to wait their turn. Of course, I opened it to a recipe that didn't have a picture.  It's ok, I don't NEED a picture.

Sure, I'll have to google the title so I have an idea of what I'm making, because I have no clue what "Contadina" means.  Maybe it's better this way.  Now, even if it looks awful, I can tell me family that's what it's supposed to look like.  Worse comes to worst, I'll tell the kids Contadina is Italian for "looks terrible, tastes great."  Done and done.

I start to read through the ingredients to see what I need to get and right off the bat I'm stuck.  The first ingredient is "One 3-pound chicken, cut into 12 pieces."  What??  What does that even mean?  Do I buy a baked rotisserie chicken from the deli and then cut it into 12 equal pieces?  I can't imagine that's right...dividing it like I would a pan of brownies, and then cutting through all the bones?  I decided to call my friend, Talai, and ask her.  She had no idea, but agreed that dicing up a rotisserie chicken doesn't sound right.  After a little research I was able to find out that you use an uncooked 3-pound chicken, cut out the breasts, thighs, wings and legs.  Then you cut the thighs in half and the breasts into thirds.  You now have a 3-pound chicken cut into 12 pieces.  Voilà!
On a side note...since the book didn't specify that I had to be the one to remove the pieces from the body of the chicken, I felt like I was still being true to my promise to Chef Ford by going to the meat department and buying a family pack of chicken with the skin and bones still attached.

Once I got home from getting all the ingredients, I laid them out, washed my hands and grabbed my box of rubber gloves.

CONFESSION: I can't stand the feel of slimy, cold, raw meat. It grosses me out - hence my box of rubber gloves.
                           I know, it's pathetic.  I'm hoping by putting this in a smaller font it will be less pathetic.  No?  I tried.
                                
I cut the chicken up into 12 pieces. Do you love how I so casually talked about me cutting up the chicken as if it didn't make involuntarily gag every time the bone would crack underneath the pressure of the knife. So gross.

I added the fresh herbs and lemon juice and... Oh, crap.  It's supposed to refrigerate for 24 hours.
Son of a #&$*@!!!!

Lesson #1 - It might be helpful, whenever possible, to read through a new recipe a few days before you plan on cooking it.

Twenty-four hours-ish later...

Gloves back on, ready to start cooking!  I don't know if it's the excitement that a long overdue home cooked meal is taking place, or the aroma of fresh herbs combined with the marinated meat in the oven, but something has put everyone in a fantastic mood.

Aaron asked if he could help chop the bell peppers, Noah and Reagan weren't fighting or arguing and Tyler was playing with his toys as happy as could be.  It was AWESOME!!!  Even if it only lasted a few minutes, I would take it.  Everyone in the house was happy.

As I followed the different steps, I loved watching as everything was coming together.  I've never cooked anything in a pan on the stove top, and then transferred it straight to the oven to bake, and then continued to repeat that process throughout a recipe.  It was crazy!  When I put the pan, with the sizzling sausage and popping oil into our gas oven, I wasn't entirely sure the whole thing wouldn't catch on fire (hence the fire extinguisher in the background).  I get that it's a basic concept, but it was fascinating to me to watch the oil in the pan change from a light yellow to a dark brown by the time I was done cooking the sausage in the oven.  And it's only going to get better as I take the meat out and add the marinated chicken into this sausage-flavored oil.

I've only ever used oil to crisp something up or cook one thing all the way through - I've never used it to carry one flavor to another and another and ultimately pull the main components of the meal together in one dish.  Hands down this is already going to be the most flavorful dinner I will have ever made.

The sausage is cooked and set aside and the chicken is browning, I figured it was a good time to check on Aaron's progress.  Not only had he finished cutting up the peppers, he had moved on to the parsley...and he had found himself a little Sous Chef.

The boys clearly have the chopping under control, so I turn my attention back to the chicken that now has the most beautiful, deep golden brown I think I have ever seen on 12 pieces of chicken. 

When the chicken was done, I took it out of the pan and let it sit next to the sausage.  

At this point I put the sliced potatoes (thank you, Aaron) on a baking sheet and into the oven. The goal is to flip them half way through the cooking time so that the slices become nice and crispy.  You should know I have never been able to accomplish this complicated, delicate process of creating perfectly crispy potato slices!  They either have burned parts or they're soft and bendy.  No one wants a soft, bendy potato slice.  I feel the pressure as I'm facing my food nemesis once again.  

There's no time for me to worry about potatoes.  I've got vegetables needing my attention.  Once the oil is reheated, I added the onions and peppers, stirred, added the garlic, increased the heat, stirred some more, reduced the heat, and simmered.  At the very end, I added the fresh basil and parsley.  

Now for the moment of truth.  I grab a large bowl, slowly mixing everything together and then "artfully" arranging the food on a serving platter.  No, the potatoes were not crispy.  They stuck to the pan, regardless of me spraying it before hand (and the ones that didn't stick were still soft).  It eludes me.  I will have crispy potato slices if it's the last thing I do.

With the serving platter ready and the family miraculously sitting at the table, patiently waiting, I shove everything on the counters to the side so I can take a picture of my Carmine's dinner....Chicken Contadina.

Reviews: Aaron:  "Loved it. My favorite part was the chicken. The flavor was awesome." 

                    Me:   "Chicken absolutely amazing. Incredible flavor and very juicy.  Sausage was

                               surprisingly good (not a big sausage fan in general). The peppers and onions 

                               could not have been more perfect."

                Noah:    (He's obsessed with cooking shows)  "The sweetness and the tang of the pepper

                              really went well with the sausage I ate, which was spicy, so it really goes well 

                              on the plate.  The chicken (takes a huge bite of chicken) really good."

             Reagan:    "I loved the chicken! The drumsticks are my favorite. The sausage was good,

                              but could have been warmer."

               Tyler:     "I liked it. Today at school I wanted to play with the truck and..."

           

Before the kids entered the kitchen, I told them the story of Artie and the importance of being a family.  I told them that when they hear me say, "it's a Carmine's night," I want them to know exactly what that means.  It's a night where bad feelings, short tempers, disappointments, anger with one another, etc, etc, is to be checked at the door.  While we're sitting at the table, it's a safe place for everyone.  It's a time where we can talk about our favorite memories, trips we want to take, and goals we want to accomplish.  It's a time where there is unconditional love no matter what happened a week ago, the day before, or an hour earlier.  Nothing is so bad that we can't sit together and let it go for a moment.  Sometimes a moment is all we need to remember how much we matter to each other and how nothing is too big or too heavy to bare when your family is standing with you. 

Tonight, for the first time in a very long time, that's exactly what we had.  My children were laughing as Aaron and I told them stories from when they were really little,  Noah quickly joined in the story telling as he described to Reagan what it was like the first time he got to see her and how she was "the prettiest baby" he had ever seen.  Reagan's smile could not have been bigger.  After Noah finished his memory of Reagan, she started telling us about the "coolest fort ever made" that Noah had built for her and all the games they played in it.  Noah and Reagan laughed as they talked about that day and began making plans for a new fort.  Tyler is telling Aaron for the six time about his day at school and how the fire alarm went off.  I sat back in my chair and just soaked up my family.  

I like to think that for the briefest of moments, my dad and Artie were watching the evening unfold and my dad put his hand on Artie's shoulder and said, "Good job, Artie."  And Artie just smiled.