Tag Archives: Mandilli de Saea al Pesto

Dining at the counter at Bar La Grassa –Hip-n-Homey

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We’ve been to Bar La Grassa a handful of times.  It is one of my favorite places to go out to share a special meal.  Why?  I am universally pleased by fresh pasta and that, combined with Bar La Grassa’s bustling atmosphere makes for an enjoyable dining experience.

When it is just the two of us, we usually choose to sit side-by-side at the long counter that separates the kitchen’s front line from the central dining room.  An open-kitchen in a nice restaurant is no longer uncommon, but spending the meal perched directly at eye-level with the kitchen staff in the midst of busy preparation makes for a fascinating, voyeuristic experience for a diner who is interested in the process behind the product.

To me, the front-row vantage point is a marvel.  There is constant, well-choreographed motion.  Each person moves though the rhythms of their kitchen duties with the calm agility that comes from practice and repetition.

This kitchen’s output is impressively efficient and quite tasty.  Bjorn has occasionally ventured into somewhat adventurous territory, ordering the braised rabbit and sweetbreads that make their way on to the menu.  Tonight, we decided to share a few small plates, so he stuck to the meat-free options.

Everyone and their brother crows from the rooftops over the Lobster and Soft Egg Bruschetta at Bar La Grassa.  I have no doubt that its is amazing.  I’ve found that the other somewhat uniquely topped bruschettas are also fun to try.  We sampled the Gorgonzola Picante Bruschetta with Peperonata.  The thick slices of bread, grilled before our very eyes are rustic and ample, and the slight char is lovely.  For once, a bruschetta that has enough bread to hold its toppings!  It’s the little things in life, isn’t’ it?

We decided to share two small pastas, the first, from the “fresh pasta” column on the menu, Silk Handkerchiefs with Basil Pesto.  I thought this pasta was tasty, but to be honest, we both agreed my homemade Mandilli de Saea al Pesto is far better!  This dish is at its best when a silky, almost transparently thin fold of pasta is just cooked, then gently coated with a melting, creamy pesto that covers each fold in a thin, uniform, glistening green.  Rolling delicate mandilli and grinding pesto to the texture of cream is a bit of a persnickety process.  It is not conducive to speed or mass production.  Bar La Grassa’s noodles were thin, but a little too soft, and the pesto tended to the chunky and too-oily side.  It is somewhat a matter of execution, but more a matter of taste and preference, and of course, the effort that goes into making it at home makes it better.  I am not the only one who thinks they can pull of this dish just as well meal at home…

Our second pasta selection, from the “filled pastas” category on the menu was the Mushroom and Tallegio Agnolotti.  We both liked this dish though by the end, I thought the mushrooms were over-salted.  The wrapped-candy-shaped Agnolotti were tender and filled with a perfectly lovely Tallegio.  This was Bjorn’s favorite dish of the meal.

One of the feats Bar La Grassa has somehow managed to accomplish is to be at once swanky and unpretentious.  To me, this is the perfect combination of characteristics for a restaurant in the Minnie Apple, the hip-n-homey heart of the Midwest.  The the restaurant has the typical “see and be seen” vibe of an upscale restaurant yet the hosts are welcoming and always find us a place even when the median fashion sense of the restaurant’s clientele eclipses ours.  I have, in fact, seen and said a quick “hello” to Minneapolis food personality, Andrew Zimmern during a previous visit with Bjorn and my mother.  In contrast to the overall swankiness, I’ve dined next to a couple decked out in Minnesota Golden Gopher gear from head to toe.  The highfalutin to homespun contrast also comes through in the restaurants serving ware.  If you are looking at your plate, you might think you are dining in the humble kitchen of an Italian Grandmother rather than the spacious dining room of Isaac Becker, a James Beard Award-winning chef.  All the food comes out on heavy, standard-issue restaurantware plates with all varieties of patterns. There is also the pleasant contrast between the kitchen’s credentials to price.  The head chef and the restaurant have received plenty of accolades, however, it is possible to have an appetizer, a few small plates and a few glasses of wine or beer and dessert, and still spend under one hundred bucks.  And to leave totally satisfied.

We don’t often order dessert, but because of sharing small plates, we still had room.  We selected the luscious, Dark Chocolate Pot de Crème with a Hazelnut Nougatine which was a magnificent finish to our meal.  I love the fact that it was served in a little canning jar.  I stole this idea from Wise Acre Eatery and used it all summer to serve individual portions of salad and condiments.  I loved the Pot de Crème.  What a treat.

We have found that Bar La Grassa consistently offers a solid Italian dining experience.  Bar La Grassa’s execution and noble parentage thoughtfully contrasts with its “room at the counter” welcome and good value.  Given the opportunity to gawk into a high-end kitchen while dining from a menu curated by a James Beard award-winning chef, will we go back?  You betcha.

*For the record, I used my phone without flash to capture these quick shots, so they are a little lower in quality, but I’m not going to be that person who totally irritates her dinner date and other guest by noticeably photographing her meal.  But really, who isn’t documenting absolutely everything these days?  If Adam Roberts from Amateur Gourmet does it, why can’t I?

Mandilli de Saea al Pesto with Peas

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I started out my last post saying that summertime “is a season to avoid being booked and busy as much as possible, to allow time to be free to savor summer’s simple pleasures.”  A few nights ago, I came home intent on making Mandilli de Saea al Pesto with Fresh Garden Peas –this supper is one of the reasons I avoid being booked and busy.  I have been waiting since January to roll out Silk Handkerchiefs or Mandilli de Saea and, cook them gently, and  coat them with a stunning, bright green, fragrant pesto made with basil from our garden.

I began by shelling a pound of farmer’s market peas.  Just-cooked, freshly-shelled peas rounded out our simple supper perfectly. 

I have rolled out fresh pasta in various formats, and made pesto a time or two, but I don’t claim to be an expert on either, though my technique has certainly gotten better over time.  I first learned to make fresh pasta at a cooking class I took at the Chopping Block Cooking School located in the Merchandise Mart in Chicago that my sweetheart gave me as a Christmas present a few years ago.  I will shamelessly admit that everything I have learned since I can attribute to watching cooking shows on T.V.  I usually follow Lidia Bastianich’s recipe for fresh pasta which is simple, using a food processor, readily available all-purpose flour and a little olive oil which makes a silky dough.  I came home from work and immediately got to work using our handy-dandy food processor to mix up a half-recipe of pasta dough—two people don’t need 1½ pounds of pasta sitting around.  Thank you Lidia for making your dough in the food processor.

Lidia’s  Pasta Dough – Yield 1½ pounds of dough

3 cups all-purpose flour
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
7 tablespoons very cold water, plus more as needed

Process:

Measure the flour into the food processor, and give it a quick buzz to distribute air throughout.  Crack eggs and measure liquid into a separate bowl.  Start the processor on high, and stream the liquid ingredients into the processor.  Once combined, the dough should form a ball at the end of the processor’s blade.  If it is crumbly, add cold water one tablespoon at a time until a ball forms.  If the dough is sticky, knead in a small amount of flour until the pasta is smooth.  Form the dough into a disk, wrap in saran wrap or a clean towel and let rest for 30 minutes.  After resting the dough, cut the disk into 8 equal pieces (or 4 if you are making a ½ recipe).  Begin by rolling the dough through the largest setting of a pasta machine, fold it once, and then roll through the largest setting again.  Roll the dough through each successively smaller setting once, until the noodles reach the desired thickness, which for Mandilli de Saea, should be thin enough to be semi-transparent.  I rolled my pasta through settings 1-6 using the flat pasta rolling attachment on my Kitchenaid Mixer, then used a rotary pasta cutter to slice the long sheets of pasta into squares of roughly the same size.  Perfection isn’t necessary.  One of the beauties of homemade pasta is its humble nature.  Italian Grandmas aren’t measuring each square with a ruler.

I placed a clean, lightly floured dish towel on top of a rimmed baking sheet, and laid the handkerchiefs on it, side by side.  Once one towel was filled, I gently layered another on top of it, filled it with squares of pasta, and continued to layer pasta between towels, one on top of the next until all of the pasta was rolled.  I covered the top layer with an additional towel to keep the pasta from drying out too fast.

Paolo Laboa’s Genovese Pesto

15-20 Leaves of Genovese Basil, Soaked in cold water to reduce Chlorophyll
2 Cloves of Garlic, peeled
A small handful of Pine Nuts
Approximately ½ Cup of Grated Parmesan Cheese
Ligurian Olive Oil, or Light Olive Oil
Pinch of Sea Salt

I follow Chef Paolo Laboa’s Chow Network tutorial on creating the perfect pesto as closely as possible.  In the past this has involved attempting to grind and mash the ingredients together by hand into a creamy, perfectly-emulsified green paste using my mortar and pestle.  This week, there was an unfortunate freak accident in our kitchen, which involved an old kitchen drawer that was mounted to the wall and used for years as a shelf falling (or leaping?) to the floor.  Apparently, one of the screw-in hangers was stripped.  When the shelf came down it took with it its contents, about half of which were smashed to smithereens.  My precious Mortar and Pestle, Butter Bell butter crock, the stopper to my vintage vinegar bottle and a tiny lidded pot de creme vessel all met their demise along with a full bottle of balsamic glaze.  The incident left kitchen cupboards and floor and the inside of an open drawer splattered with sticky, syrupy balsamic glaze which affixed the jagged remnants of the broken crockery firmly to the tile floor.  It will take several more rounds with a bucket and sponge to get every glued-down shard out of the grout between the floor tiles.  Sadly, everything but the balsamic glaze was a Christmas or anniversary gift.  Though I am a little heavy-hearted having several gifts broken to bits, these things can be replaced.  In the meantime, it gives me a good excuse to use the food processor to make pesto which isn’t Paolo Laboa’s way, but it is much easier.  

Grate approximately ½ cup of Parmesan Cheese into the bowl of the food processor.

Add a handful of pine nuts, a sprinkle of sea salt, and two peeled cloves of garlic and pulse ingredients together to form a paste.

Add 15-20 leaves of Genovese Basil which have been soaked in cold water to reduce the chlorophyl.  Chlorophyl gives plants their verdant hue, and it improves the basil flavor to have it taste a little less “green.”  Add a small amount of olive oil, and pulse, stopping to scrape down the sides of the food processor.  When the ingredients have become a thick paste, stream in additional oil while running the processor until the pesto has a smooth texture.

Cook the pasta handkerchiefs in a large pot of boiling, lightly-salted water for 1½- 3 minutes, until al dente.  I cooked the peas in a separate saucepan of boiling water and drained them after 1½ minutes.  In a large bowl, mix the pesto with a small ladle-full of hot pasta-cooking water to melt the parmesan cheese, then added the pasta and peas to the bowl.  Gently stir the hot sheets of pasta and peas through the pesto to coat each surface with warmed, melting sauce.

We sat down immediately to eat at the table on our patio that faces the garden.  All of the senses are engaged in the preparation and enjoyment of this meal.  The process is completely justified by the result.  There is no way to duplicate the fragrance, colour, texture or flavor on this plate using frozen peas, jarred pesto, or pasta from a box.  We enjoyed the meal the only way it should be made– totally from scratch, in season and eaten al fresco.  A fresh plate of Mandilli de Saea al Pesto, piled high with sweet, fresh peas is a wonderful summer-only dish.