Whole Wheat Linguine with Kale and Sausage

Dating is a challenge.  Even if you’ve been married for 40 years, if you imagine the quest of seeking a suitable partner that will both help keep the house clean and give you butterflies in your stomach, I’m sure you will be able to flirt with the magnitude of this process.  Like most things in life, it’s usually best to enjoy the journey, instead of focusing on the end result; in dating, this means that sometimes you spend time with people that you know aren’t ultimately right for you, but you’re enjoying the ride and it’s nice to have some company from time to time.  This is exactly where I was with my last quasi-relationship, which is really a rare and beautiful place to be.  Heartbreak is not part of the equation because you’re not in love, but there also must be some sort of conclusion at some point.  Ideally, the conclusion will manifest itself in a natural and respectful manner.  I’m sure my readers are all very respectful people, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that text messages are not considered to be one of the respectful ways to end an affair, even if the premise was casual and low-commitment.  The problem was not that the involvement was concluded, but the means of message delivery was inappropriate.  I think it’s safe to say that anything beyond 3 or 4 dates requires an actual phone call, as opposed to some sort of electronically transmitted text. 

With a phone call, I would have seen said involvement as fun, and purposeful, but the text message breakup cheapened the experience.  It left a bitter taste in my mouth.  So I embarked on a three-step process to wash that man out of my hair.  The first step was to literally wash my hair; a hot shower can be a profoundly symbolic gesture in letting go of the old, and being prepared for a fresh start. Next, I got a pedicure; you can only take the missteps of others so seriously when your toenails have been freshly painted a color dubbed “Cajun Shrimp.”  Last, I indulged in a home cooked meal that was both satisfying and nourishing, and also one that I knew my former beau would not have enjoyed, but suits my taste perfectly. 

Enter whole-wheat linguine with kale and sausage.  I adapted this dish from my newest cookbook, cheekily titled “50 Shades of Kale” (completely ridiculous, I know, but I do attest that it was the most creative and compelling of the 5 kale-based cookbooks at Peppercorn, the local culinary retail Mecca of Boulder).  This dish is very simple, but it has all the best things in it: pasta, cream, white wine, garlic, crushed red pepper, sausage, and loads of kale. The recipe called for whole-wheat linguine, which is not my favorite.  In general, I feel like it’s not quite worth it; if you’re going to indulge in pasta, go for the real thing: tender, toothsome, silky strands, not their cardboard-esque, healthy cousin.  But I went against my usual stance because I felt that the hearty combination of the cream, sausage, and kale might be enough to balance out the rustic texture of the whole-wheat pasta.  This turned out to be an excellent judgment call.  This was definitely the right sauce for the job, but I also think I may have inadvertently chosen the best whole-wheat pasta on the market: Whole Foods Organic Whole Wheat Linguine.  It had the heartiness you expect from whole grains, which stands up nicely to the cream, without the woody or chalky quality that I so frequently encounter in whole-wheat pasta.  Delicious, satisfying, spicy, creamy, slightly acidic from white wine; this dish confounded the bitterness that text message left me with, and leftovers to boot.   

Whole Wheat Linguine with Kale and Sausage (adapted from 50 Shades of Kale)

1/2 pound mild Italian sausage

3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

1 teaspoon red pepper flakes, divided

10 ounce bunch of kale, stems removed and coarsely chopped

1/2 cup white wine

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1/2 cup heavy cream

1/2 pound whole wheat linguine

Parmesan cheese for garnish

-       Cook the linguine in a large pot of salted, boiling water, al dente, per package instructions.  Reserve approximately 1 cup of pasta cooking water; drain pasta and set aside.

-       In a large skillet preheated over medium heat, sauté the sausage, breaking it apart, until cooked though.

-       Add the garlic and half of the hot pepper flakes, and sauté for 1 minute.

-       Add the kale and the white wine, scraping up any brown bits off the bottom of the pan.  Season with salt and pepper.  Sauté for about 5 minutes, until the kale is wilted, and starts to become tender.

-       Add the cream, and cook for about 5 minutes more.

-       Toss in the pasta and enough pasta cooking water to make the mixture slightly saucy.  Garnish with Parmesan cheese. 

Kale, White Bean, and Kielbasa Soup

A magical time of year is descending upon us.  From the depths of December, we have emerged, earning about a scant minute of additional light each day.  Now that we have reached March, those tiny moments have accumulated into a meaningful amount, and regardless of the temperature, we can literally see and feel the light at the end of winter’s tunnel.  As if that weren’t enough, the added bonus of Day Light Saving’s Time is around the corner.  No one is happier about these lighter days than me, but it also makes me grateful for the last few cold days that allow me to relish soups, stews, roasted chicken, and other hearty dishes that become insufferable during the hot, bright summer months.  I can handle bring; hot is a different story.  I will cling to every last minute that affords me hearty winter cooking, knowing that the dog days of summer will allow for more than enough grilling, salads, and chilled pasta salads.

And thus, kale/white bean/kielbasa soup is my latest brainchild, born of my ironic depression over losing the indulgent, lazy coziness of winter.  I will indulge until it’s too hot to simmer soup on the stove, and too hot to turn on the oven.  I’m not sure how this idea in particular got planted in my brain, but I had something very specific in mind, regarding this soup concept.  I make a lot of kale soups, but they are usually tomatoey, and I knew this one should not be.  I ideally wanted it to be pure as the driven-white-bean-snow, then studded with kale and kielbasa.  I did not want it broth-y, but rather a creamy-beany texture.  This blending was an automatic requirement, which means I get to use my immersion blender, and my immersion blender makes me grin from ear to ear.  I also knew I did not want the kale or the sausage blended. 

Kielbasa was another absolute certainty in my one track mind: smoky, garlicky half moons percolating my soup.  Sadly, I love Johnsonville kielbasa (it is like a slightly more complex hot dog. YUM.), yet I knew that I would be disappointed if I didn’t go for something less processed.  I am becoming increasingly paranoid about the quality of ingredients that I use, and a growing percentage of my pantry and refrigerator are organic, and purchased at Whole Foods.  Alas, there was only one thing to do… purchase the kielbasa at Whole Foods.  The brand is called Wellshire; it is (allegedly) humanely raised; I recognized all 6 ingredients listed on the package as actual, recognized foods.  Good enough for me.

I digress.  The soup consists of celery, carrots, onion, and potatoes simmered in a rosemary-scented broth, with a chunk of parmesan cheese rind bobbing about, giving it a lovely, umami flavor.  (The base flavor is the smoky pork fat rendered from the kielbasa, which was set aside after it was browned).  When the aforementioned vegetables were simmered into tender submission, I then added 2 cans of great northern beans, and blended it up to a quasi-chunky consistency.  The potato added body in conjunction with the beans, but the soup probably would have been much prettier without the carrot.  Oh, well.  I then returned the kielbasa to its natural environment (the soup pot where it initially became browned and carmalized), and added ribbons of curly, green kale, and continued to simmer it until all was tender and lovely.  A delicious soup, but admittedly better the next day with a shower of freshly grated Parmesan cheese, as is the nature of all good soups.  Enjoy.

Kale, White Bean, and Kielbasa Soup

1 tablespoon olive oil

3/4 pound kielbasa, sliced in half moons

2 cans great northern beans, drained and rinsed

1 bunch kale, stems removed, leaves sliced into half inch ribbons

1 onion, diced

4 cloves garlic, minced

2 stalks celery, diced

2 carrot, diced

1 medium potato, peeled and diced

2 teaspoons minced rosemary

1/2 cup white wine

7-8 cups chicken stock

1/4 teaspoon hot pepper flakes

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Parmesan cheese rind

-       Over medium heat, preheat oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot.

-       Add the kielbasa, and sauté until browned

-       Remove kielbasa, drain, and set aside.  Drain fat from the soup pot, leaving 2 tablespoons in the pan

-       Add onions, carrots, and celery.  Sauté for 10 minutes, seasoning with salt, pepper, and hot pepper flakes.

-       Add garlic, rosemary, and potato.  Sauté for 1-2 minutes.

-       Add white wine, and let reduce by half.

-       Add chicken stock and Parmesan cheese rind, and bring to a simmer, stirring occasionally, for about 15-20 minutes, or until potatoes are tender.

-       Add white beans, and simmer for 5 minutes to heat through.

-       Set aside cheese rind, and using an immersion blender, blend the soup, leaving some chunks, but breaking up some of the beans.  Add cheese rind back into soup.

-       And the kale and kielbasa, and cook until kale is tender, about 5 minutes.

-       Serve and garnish with Parmesan, if desired.

Kale and Chicken Enchilada Lasagna

Hey, everyone, I wrote a blog post!  I cannot explain my absence any better than my sudden return, nor can I promise that I will start posting again regularly.  I will, however, say that I am interested again.  I was tired of it for a long time.  Perhaps, that was due to a stale creative process, or my own fabricated pressures to post regularly.  Lately, I am enjoying cooking, making some tasty food, and I would like document it more often, even if it is solely for my own reference when I cannot come up with something enticing to cook.  We all have to eat, right?  It’s true, and for some of us, it’s more than others (namely, my glutinous self). 

I was talking to my cousin on the phone last Monday afternoon, while perusing cookbooks in local cooking store, and I found a ridiculously trendy kale cookbook.  Kale is so outrageously trendy; being the contrarian that I am, I would love to declare that I despise it, but I can make no so such statement.  It is such a fantastic vegetable.  It can pleasantly beef up the vegetable quotient of nearly any dish.  Unlike spinach, for example, it is difficult to overcook, and it doesn’t have that vicious, gum-gripping, tannic quality.  It can be braised, roasted, sautéed, or it can stud your favorite soup, and it simply tastes delicious.  My taste buds tend to veer more towards heavy cream rather than vegetables, so you know if I’m singing the praises of its favor profile, it must be good. 

Anyway, while idly thumbing cookbook pages, I found a recipe for kale and chicken enchiladas.  To be clear, I am using the term “enchiladas” loosely; these are by no means authentic.  In fact, they are not even authentic to the original recipe; not only did I veer wildly off course when I made them initially, but I have now reworked several renditions of my initial swerve from the published recipe.  It now resembles a sort of pseudo-Mexican lasagna, with corn tortillas acting as pasta, and store-bought green chile instead of red sauce.  It is delicious and satisfying, and possibly even healthy.  

There is, of course, cheese within the depths of this dish.  (Sidenote: I recently went on a random and ill-advised bout of cheeseless-ness. In other words, I was completely dairy-free for about 3 weeks.  I am relieved to say that I felt terrible, and I was able to bring cheese back into my diet, with a feeling of belonging and destiny. Needless to say, my love affair with cheese is back on track, if in a slightly more moderate format.)  The cheese in this meal is pivotal, but overall I think it is fairly healthy.  I used a combination of smoked Gouda, and a cheddar-gruyere conglomerate I found at Trader Joe’s.  Smoked Gouda doesn’t melt well, but I think the flavor is worth it.  High-quality white cheddar would be more than adequate as a substitute for both cheeses (this is what I used in my first version). 

In its evolved stated (compared to the original recipe), this layered enchilada masterpiece revolves around a mixture of kale, onion, tomatoes, and chicken breast.  This is layered with tortillas and cheese.  Instead of enchilada sauce, I decided to make it a little more interesting (but just as easy) by employing some medium heat 505 Green Chile in its place.  In case you aren’t familiar with this product, it is fabulous.  It is spicy, hearty, vegetarian, and nowhere near the calorie-laden, artery-clogging mess that you might think.  In fact, the entire 16 oz. jar has less than 100 calories.  Initially, I made this as rolled enchiladas, but corn tortillas crack so easily that I reformatted it to something layered.  Why do my corn tortillas crack?  Are they simply not fresh? Am I doing something wrong?  Is it karmic retribution?  I’m not sure, but I do know they are so flavorful that changing the presentation of the dish seemed the best solution, as opposed to subbing them out for their mild-mannered cousin, the flour tortilla.  Every time I open a bag of corn tortillas, the aroma overwhelms me.  When I think of super flavorful foods, fresh corn does not immediately spring to mind; however, this bland starch transforms into a different species when plied into a tortilla.  This dinner was delightful, and as all dishes must be in the psycho kitchen, it yielded abundant and delicious leftovers. 

Kale and Chicken Enchilada Bake

2 boneless skinless chicken breasts

Olive oil

Garlic salt

Seasoning salt

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1 teaspoon oregano

1 onion, diced

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 serrano pepper, ribs and seeds removed, minced

1-14 oz. can diced tomatoes

1 bunch of kale, ribs removed and chopped

1/2 cup chicken stock

1 jar medium heat 505 Green Chile

3/4 cup smoked Gouda

3/4 cup white cheddar or cheddar-gruyere mix

9 small corn tortillas

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Lightly coat chicken breasts in olive oil and season with seasoning salt, garlic salt, and pepper.  Bake for 20-25 minutes, then set aside.  Thinly slice when cooled.  Reduce heat to 350.

Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in large skillet over medium heat.  Saute onion, chile pepper, and garlic, seasoned with salt and pepper, for 10-15 minutes until translucent and soft.

Add chopped kale, 1/2 cup chicken stock, and tomatoes with juice.  Season with salt, pepper, and oregano.  Stir until kale is wilted slightly, then add chicken.  Turn off heat and stir to combine.

In a greased 9x13 pan, spread out 1/2-3/4 cup green chile.  Then top with 3 small corn tortillas, tearing into smaller pieces to create one layer.  Then top with half of the kale mixture, and half of the cheese.  Top with 3 more tortillas, and more green chile.  Add remaining kale mixture, and 3 more tortillas.  Top with additional green chile and cheese. 

Bake for 25-30 minutes at 350, or until hot and bubbly.  Let rest for 15 minutes before serving.

Braised Kale and Linguine

Confession: up until I made this recipe, I have had a fear of cooking kale.  I like kale, although I have not had many opportunities to eat it.  Obviously, it is a super trendy super food at the moment, but I have been paralyzed by fear around actually cooking it.  I have spent some time trying to concoct a kale-based recipe that I would feel comfortable cooking.  My foresight and thought have thus far been unproductive.  Lucky for me, a specific incident catapulted me out of my trepidation around kale into a place of genuine curiosity.  It was the kale display at Whole Foods: tall piles of Dino kale, red curly kale, green curly kale, tucked amidst mustard greens, and various types of chard.  It was so fresh, and beautiful, and leafy.  Since I laid eyes on it, I’m still trying to figure out where my intimidation came from.  After seeing this magnificent display of vegetation, I meditated on how I would use one of those meticulously wrapped bundles. 

I spent some time digging around on Foodgawker, and lemony, garlicky kale paired with silky strands of pasta seemed to be a pretty pervasive preparation.  Obviously, these are some of my favorite flavors, so it seemed like an appropriate initiation between me and kale.  I returned to Whole Foods and picked out the perfect bunch of red kale, and constructed the pasta dish below.  Why red kale?  I have no idea.  It was pretty; perhaps it should be called purple kale.  Most recipes I saw used green kale, so if I unwittingly committed some sort of kale faux pas, please let me know.

Overall, this recipe is pretty simple.  First, I gave it a rinse and tore leafy chunks off the stalk.  I never actually used a knife on the kale.  Then I sautéed some thinly sliced garlic in olive oil with a bit of red pepper flakes, until the garlic was fragrant.  Then I added the kale.  I needed a huge sauté pan, and the kale still barely fit before it wilted (the bunch was just under a pound).  I tossed the kale around in the oil to allow it to begin wilting, and then I added about a quarter cup of white wine and about a half cup of chicken stock. 

At this point, I added a sprinkle of salt and pepper, and a tiny bit of nutmeg.  Nutmeg is a new addition in my spice repertoire, and I love it.  Rachael Ray is always raving about nutmeg on dark greens, and although I don’t exactly revere her as a culinary god, she’s not wrong about everything.  The nutmeg added another peppery dimension that echoes, but does not mimic, black pepper.  It’s very fragrant and fills your nose with a warm, spicy smell, registering somewhere between savory and sweet.  Then I simply let the kale cook down for about 10 minutes.  I tossed it with fresh lemon juice, hot linguine, and some reserved pasta cooking water.  And topped the whole thing off with some Parmesan.  It was delicious and felt like I was doing something good for my body, which was necessary after a long series of immune-system-compromising events (e.g. concerts, spring break celebrations).  Kale will cure what ails you, even if the ailment is actually too much fun.

I made this pasta last Sunday, when my spring break was just starting, and now as I write, it is coming to a close.  (Sigh.)  As much as I would love for it to continue, I couldn’t be happier with how I’ve spent this last week: soaking up sunshine; taking a slew of new yoga classes; going a for beautiful road ride to Eldorado Springs; cooking; reading; writing; connecting with old friends and new.  It has been what spring break should be: rest, relaxation, rejuvenation, and fun.  I will have to figure out the perfect Sunday night dinner to bookend such a lovely week.  More on that later.

Braised Kale and Linguine (makes 2 generous servings)

1 bunch curly red kale, washed, stalk removed, torn into chunks

1/3 lb. linguine (approximately)

3 cloves garlic, thinly sliced

3 tablespoons olive oil

¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes

¼ cup white wine

½ cup chicken stock

Kosher salt and pepper to taste

1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg (4 tiny shakes from the container)

Juice from ½ lemon

Freshly grated Parmesan cheese

-       Put a large pot of water on the stove to boil for the pasta.  Meanwhile, prepare your kale: give it a good rinse and tear the leaves in chunks off the stalk and set aside.

-       In a large sauté pan, preheat olive oil over medium heat.  Add sliced garlic and hot pepper flakes to the oil.  Allow to sauté for 1 minute and add pasta to the boiling water with some salt.

-       Add the kale to the sauté pan (just shove it in there until it starts to wilt).  Gently stir it to begin distributing the olive oil on the kale.

-       Add the white wine, chicken stock, salt, pepper, and nutmeg.  Stir to combine and increase heat so that liquid begins to simmer.  Allow the kale to braise for about 10 minutes at medium heat.  If it’s done before the pasta, just turn off the heat and add the lemon juice.  Taste it for seasoning and add a generous amount of Parmesan.  Stir so the cheese begins to melt.

-       When the pasta is done, add it to the pan (I like to add it directly out of the pasta pot to the pan with tongs; otherwise reserve some pasta water, then drain it and add it to the pan).

-       Stir to combine adding additional seasoning, lemon juice, and cheese to taste.  If the mixture seems dry, add pasta water, a tablespoon or two at a time.  Garnish with a little more cheese and enjoy!