My brain is giving me exactly zero Book Words. The air outside is cold and damp, meaning wool socks will be de rigueur for the next 6-7 months, and my belly wants comfort food. While looking through my kitchen drawers for something else, I found this recipe for gnocchi we made and ate in a converted barn outside of Amelia, Italy.
Our friend, Enrico, was born in Rome and he loves to cook. He had a pot of tomato sauce simmering on a gas stove while giving my then sixteen-year-old son and me a pasta-making lesson. The sauce was to die for and when I asked Enrico to list the ingredients, he shrugged. “Tomatoes,” he said, fishing in the pot with a slotted spoon. “Oh, and a carrot. And a bone I found in the refrigerator.”
Tomatoes, a whole carrot, and a small beef bone. I tried to recreate the recipe multiple times. It has never come out the same. What I have been able to recreate, is the gnocchi: plump pillows of potato-y perfection.
Do you have a favorite, memory-laden recipe?
