Chicken Piccata

Chicken piccata is a simple Italian dish, consisting of sautéed chicken cutlets with a lemon-caper sauce.  The flavors are clean and bright.  It doesn’t have garlic in it, or anything spicy, and it frankly doesn’t need it.  Some people like to add butter to the sauce at the end, but I don’t think it’s necessary.  There is plenty of olive oil, which adds richness. 

First, chicken cutlets are dredged in flour and browned in a sauté pan.  Don’t be shy here: make sure you get some good color on the chicken.  When all of the chicken has been effectively browned, the chicken is set aside; chicken stock, lemon juice, and capers are added to the pan.  Do not add salt; the capers will add more than enough saltiness.  Bring the sauce to a boil, and scrape up any browned bits left behind in the pan from the chicken.  Then all of the chicken is added back to the pan and simmered in the golden sauce.  The flour in the chicken’s crust will thicken the sauce and the chicken will finish cooking gently in the liquid.  The dish is finished off with tons of fresh parsley for color and freshness.  This cooking method will result in chicken that is very tender, and a sauce makes your mouth pucker slightly, with clean, acidic, lemony flavor. 

This is a dish that most people will enjoy, but isn’t the least bit boring.  I used to make a lot when I was in college.  It doesn’t require a lot of ingredients, but still feels rather luxurious.  Plus, it pairs nicely with pasta, which is obviously a plus for me.  The sauce coats the pasta nicely; and it looks beautiful with all of the parsley laced throughout.  And if you’re cooking for someone other than yourself, it has an impressive flair.  I also like to grate some Parmesan on top, but it is delicious without it. 

Chicken Piccata (recipe adapted from Giada DeLaurentiis)

4-6 thin cut chicken cutlets

Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper

1 cup flour

3-4 tablespoons of olive oil

1 cup low sodium chicken stock

1/3 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

2-3 tablespoons capers

1/3 cup chopped fresh parsley (reserve some for garnish)

-       Preheat a large non-stick skillet over medium-high heat with 3 tablespoons of olive oil

-       Meanwhile, season chicken breasts with kosher salt and pepper.  Place flour in a wide, shallow dish, and dredge seasoned chicken breasts lightly in flour.

-       Brown chicken cutlets in the pan in batches (do not crowd pan).  Allow them to brown for 3-4 minutes per side.  Remove to a platter.  Add more olive if needed to new batches.

-       Add chicken stock, lemon juice, and capers to the pan.  Gently scrape up any browned bits in the pan, and bring to a boil and add all of the chicken back to the pan.  Simmer for 5 minutes until chicken is cooked through and the sauce has thickened.

-       Remove chicken from pan and add parsley (reserve about a tablespoon for garnish).  Serve chicken with sauce, garnished with reserved parsley, over a bed of linguine if desired (a sprinkle of parmesan is also nice)

Chicken Tagine with Fennel and Olives

If you are a loyal reader (which, of course, you are), you may remember a slightly disastrous encounter with a recipe for chicken sausage with fennel and lentils.  The purpose of that recipe was to experiment with fennel, and the results were boring, and lacking asthetic appeal.  However, in January’s issue of Bon Appetit, I found the answer to my fennel prayers: a chicken tagine with fennel and olives (a tagine is essentially a North African style of braising.  For more information, see my glossary).  Honestly, the title alone had me weak in the knees, and further investigation validated my initial sentiments.  This recipe has some of my favorite ingredients, which happen to be a perfect counterpoint to the fragrant, sweet fennel. What could better balance its anise flavor than salty, briny, meaty, green olives?  The remaining ingredients only augmented my high expectations, and rightfully so: cumin, paprika, lemon, and cilantro.  And all of those delicious elements come together in a lush sauce that pairs perfectly with couscous.   

In addition to the enticing recipe, Bon Appetit provided me with an entire article on fennel, exposing me to all sorts of coveted fennel facts.  For example, fennel is currently in-season.  As if this perfect recipe isn’t enough of a reason to run out to your nearest fennel provider, the “in-season” factor should give you added incentive.  Fennel also happens to be a heavyweight when it comes to nutrition.  I found this surprising:  usually we associate brightly colored vegetables with high nutritional value.  But, apparently, the perfectly pale fennel bulb is packed with fiber, potassium, and vitamin C, amongst other anti-oxidants.  Additionally, anethole, the substance accountable for fennel’s distinctive licoricy flavor, has anti-inflammatory properties, and who couldn’t use that?

Chicken Tagine with Fennel and Olives (adapted from Bon Appetit’s recipe)

1 ½ pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs

1 tablespoon olive oil

2 medium-sized fennel bulbs, halved, cored, and cut into thin slices

2 teaspoons cumin

½ teaspoon paprika

½ teaspoon hot pepper flakes

Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

Juice of one lemon, divided

2 cup reduced sodium chicken stock
Salt and pepper, to taste

½ cup coarsely chopped green olives, packed in brine

½ cup chopped cilantro, plus extra for garnish

§  Heat olive oil over medium-high to high heat for 2-3 minutes, or until very hot.  Place chicken thighs in pan.  If the pan is hot enough, this should be very noisy.  Leave undisturbed for about 5 minutes, or until nicely brown.  Flip and cook on other side for 2-3 minutes.

§  Remove chicken from pan and set aside.  Remove excess fat from pan, leaving about 2 tablespoons (this can be done carefully with a paper towel)

§  Add fennel to the pan, allow to cook for about 5 minutes, or until it starts to brown.

§  Add chicken back to the pan.  Add stock, half of lemon juice, spices, and salt/pepper.  Stir to combine.

§  Bring mixture to a boil, and then reduce to a simmer, and cover.  Cook for 15-20 minutes, or until chicken in cooked through.

§  Add olives, and increase heat to allow sauce to reduce for about 5 minutes.

§  Add remaining lemon juice and cilantro.  Serve chicken, fennel, and sauce over couscous and garnish with extra cilantro.

Comments:  I had dangerously high expectations for this recipe, and it somehow managed to exceed them.  The above recipe includes a few minor revisions, compared to the original, and I wouldn’t alter this preparation for anything.  This dish is perfectly balanced.  For those of you who are weary of fennel’s strong anise flair, braising it in this fashion manages to mellow, but not drown out, the flavors.  The cumin lends a touch of smokiness; the hot pepper flakes add a little kick; the lemon brings its usual bright acidity; and the cilantro is an appropriate accompaniment, and not the least bit overpowering, as it sometimes can be.  The original recipe actually calls for a full cup of it, but I added only a half-cup, and it was still enough to make a difference in the flavor, but not so much that it becomes the only flavor.  Even after eating for multiple days in a row, I was mournful over the final serving.  If you are looking for something delicious, but a little unexpected for dinner, chicken tagine with fennel and olives will cure you of this craving.   

Shrimp Scampi

Shrimp scampi is quite deceptive.  It sounds decadent, luxurious, and potentially difficult to make. You can serve this meal to anyone, and they will most likely be impressed, and feel sort of spoiled.  In truth, shrimp scampi is what I like to call an “affordable luxury.”  It is actually entirely affordable, and can be ready in less than thirty minutes.  When I was in college, I referred to shrimp scampi as “my go-to meal.”  By this I mean that, with a little thought, I generally had all of the necessary ingredients, so even when I was super busy, I could whip it up after a long day, and be perfectly content.  While my definition of “super busy” has certainly changed since my college days, this meal will satisfy, regardless.  Unfortunately, I forgot about this gem of a recipe until a couple of weeks ago.  Apparently, I missed it thoroughly, because I have made it three times since the shrimp graced my freezer.  

Frozen, raw shrimp are the key to the convenience and ease of my shrimp scampi recipe.  They usually come in one-pound bags, which is perfect for four portions.  Not only is this an easy item to stash in the freezer, but it is the most expensive ingredient, and it will cost you less than 10 dollars (i.e. less than $2.50 a plate).  In addition to the shrimp, you need pasta, garlic, a lemon, and some parsley.  Despite my warped perspective on parsley, I can say with confidence that it is mandatory in this dish.  Without it, you are eating a big plate of blonde.  Besides the crucial color element, parsley is used as an ingredient, not as a garnish.  It’s freshness and brightness round out the flavor of the whole dish.  Plus, where I shop, a bunch of flat leaf parsley costs fifty cents, so you have no excuse not to use it.  And the flavor of this dish is truly perfect.  Granted, shrimp scampi basically consists of all of my favorite ingredients on one plate, but I am yet to meet someone who doesn’t love it.  Lemon and garlic were practically made for each other, and the flavor of the shrimp infuses the whole sauce.  Even if you were feeling very generous and gave all of your shrimp to your friend, and only ate the pasta, you would still notice a distinct difference in flavor between this and lemon-garlic-parsley pasta, which, of course, I have nothing against.  However, the presence of the shrimp elevates it to entirely different place.

The following recipe is for one portion, and it can be easily doubled, tripled, etc.  Also, it must be noted that this recipe is fairly spicy, and lemony, and depending on your tastes, you may want to tone it down.

Shrimp Scampi

¼ lb. of frozen, raw shrimp

2 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil  

1 garlic clove, minced

½ teaspoon hot pepper flakes

Zest and juice of half a lemon

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

¼ pound of linguine pasta (of course the type of pasta is up to you, but I ALWAYS use linguine here.  But it also happens to be my favorite long pasta)

¼ cup chopped fresh flat leaf parsley

Freshly grated Parmesan cheese (optional and controversial)

§  Allow frozen shrimp to sit in a large bowl of cold, but not frigid, water, for 5-10 minutes, or until thawed.  Remove shells and tails, and devein, if necessary.  Pat dry.  Meanwhile, put a pot of water on to boil for the pasta.

§  Preheat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat for 2-3 minutes, or until hot.  Add pasta to boiling water.

§  When the skillet is hot, add garlic and hot pepper flakes, and sauté for 30 seconds or until garlic is fragrant.

§  Add the shrimp to the pan.  Season liberally with salt and pepper.  Sprinkle with lemon zest (it’s easiest just to zest the lemon directly into the pan).  When they start to curl and look pink on the bottom edges (about 3 minutes), flip the shrimp, and allow them to continue to cook.

§  The shrimp are done when they are pink and the sides look opaque, not translucent (underdone shrimp are just as bad as overdone).

§  When the pasta and shrimp are done, add the lemon juice to the pan, and then the pasta.  Reserve ½ to 1 cup pasta cooking water.  Toss the pasta with the shrimp and parsley.  Taste for seasoning, and add salt and pepper if necessary.  If the pasta seems dry, add pasta water (a couple tablespoons at a time) until you reach the desired consistency.  An extra drizzle of olive oil is also nice. 

§  Plate the pasta and shrimp, top with Parmesan, if desired, and enjoy!

§  Note: at high altitudes, the shrimp and the pasta will take about the same amount of time to cook.  At sea level, the shrimp will usually be done faster, but it all depends on how high your heat is.  If the shrimp are done before the pasta, remove the pan from the heat until the pasta is ready.  If the pasta is done, and the shrimp are mostly cooked, add the pasta to the pan, and kept the heat on low.  The heat of the pasta will help them finish cooking. 

Comments:  I think it’s fairly clear that I love this, and you will, too.  I also love to shower it in feathery shavings of Parmesan cheese.  This is fairly controversial:  Italian cooking lore states that cheese and seafood do not pair well.  I disagree.  This does not mean that I will be melting cheddar on Chilean sea bass; however, I feel that hard cheeses, like Parmesan and pecorino, are appropriate in certain seafood situations.  I love it on shrimp scampi, but each chef must make this decision for him or herself.

Now that the great cheese debate it settled, I will present you with another option for this dish.  If you’re pockets are feeling flush, you may want to add some white wine to your scampi.  To do so, start to cook the shrimp before you add the pasta to the boiling water.  When they are just shy of done, remove them from the pan, and set them aside.  Add about ½ cup of dry white wine to the pan.  Increase the heat, allow it to reduce by about half (2-3 minutes).  When the pasta is just shy of al dente, add the shrimp back to the pan, and the lemon juice, then the pasta.  Do everything else the same.  This really provides some lovely additional flavors, but for broke grad students like myself, the other way is cheaper and still perfectly delicious.  It’s just too bad for me that white wine and vodka aren’t interchangeable in the culinary sphere.  Oh, well.  Even if it doesn’t work well with shrimp scampi, it still pairs perfectly with ice.    

A well balanced meal is in order...

New Years was a great time, and an exercise in decadence.  Shrimp cocktail, stuffed mushrooms, vodka on the rocks, crab dip, homemade pizza, deviled eggs, more vodka, artichoke dip, baby hotdogs wrapped in pastry, a shot of vodka…  And repeat.  It was a lot of fun, and because I slept at my cousin’s place, we proceeded to have crab dip and artichoke dip for breakfast, cold.  And, yes, I’m a little embarrassed about this; it was quite a way to ring in 2010.  After all that rich food, on New Year’s Day, I was craving something simple and wholesome.  I wanted vegetables, lean protein, and starch in appropriate proportions; something cooked in a limited amount of mono-unsaturated fat, but not without flavor.  For some inexplicable reason, I was craving couscous.  I know, this is not exactly a food that seems crave-worthy, but I had couscous on the brain, and I could not be deterred.  After a brisk walk to Whole Foods for chicken, and Sunflower Market for vegetables, my appetite was in full effect, and I whipped up the following concoction.

Chicken and Vegetables over Lemon-Herb Couscous

1 tablespoon olive oil

¼ cup thinly sliced onion

¼ cup thinly sliced red bell pepper

1 far garlic clove, minced

1 medium broccoli crown, chopped into florets

½ pound chicken breast, thinly sliced

Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Zest from half of a lemon, zested (optional)

¾ cup couscous

1 cup reduced sodium chicken stock

Juice from half of a lemon

2 tablespoons chopped flat leaf parsley

2 teaspoons extra virgin olive oil

·      Add 1 tablespoon of olive oil to a large pan.  Pre-heat over medium-high heat until hot.

·      Add onion and bell pepper to pan, give a quick stir, and then add chicken in an even layer.  Season with salt and pepper and then allow chicken to cook for a couple of minutes undisturbed (to allow the chicken to brown).

·      Add garlic and stir.  Continue cooking until chicken is cooked through.     

·      Meanwhile, steam the broccoli.  I use the following method:  place broccoli in a microwave safe bowl, and cover with vented wax paper or plastic wrap.  Microwave for 2 ½ to 3 minutes, and voila!  Perfectly steamed broccoli awaits.

·      Put one cup of chicken stock on the stove over high heat.  Bring to a boil.  Remove from heat, and add couscous.  Stir, cover, and allow to sit for five minutes.

·      When chicken is just cooked through, add steamed broccoli and lemon zest (if using).  Stir to combine.

·      When couscous is done, fluff with a fork and stir in lemon juice and parsley.

·      Serve chicken and vegetables over couscous and enjoy.

Comments:  This was just what the doctor ordered: a healthful and flavorful meal.  This quantity could feed two hungry people.  I think the secret to the high flavor quotient is cooking the vegetable and the chicken together.  The garlic doesn’t hurt either.  This was pretty garlicky, but I figured that since I already smelled like vodka, I might as well add a little garlic to the mix.  The lemon zest is totally optional, but I just couldn’t help myself.  It makes everything better.  Pretty soon, someone is going to have to drag me to a Lemon Zest Anonymous meeting, but until then, I will zest on.  While we are on the subject of my addictions, I may or may not have topped everything off some freshly grated Tillamook medium cheddar I found on a ridiculous sale.  When you find high quality cheese at bargain prices, you have a moral obligation to buy said cheese.  And once that cheese sets up camp in your refrigerator, you must uphold that obligation by using the wonderful cheese when possible.  You wouldn’t want me to let those golden strands go bad, would you?  I didn’t think so.     

Acting Out

Finals are horrible.  Even though they will be over in two weeks, it feels like an eternity.  I recommend keeping a safe distance from me until then, because I am beyond irritable.  I had to get gas today, which seemed like the world’s biggest inconvenience.  My car was at about an eighth of a tank.  Even though I drive an average of a mile and a half a day, it seemed like a good idea to fill up because here in Boulder the thermometers are ringing in at near record low temperatures.  It’s supposed to be about five degrees tonight.  I pulled up to a pump only to discover that the credit/debit machine was out of order.  This necessitated me getting back in my car, and backing up approximately 15 feet, and I nearly cried out of frustration.  This is not normal.  This is finals. 

BUT… there is a bonus to finals that I forgot about until tonight: the inevitable acting out.  Yes, acting out, like a small child who is over-tired, and misbehaves horribly as a result, perhaps enjoying it a little.  In college, it meant finishing studying at midnight and drinking until three, only to get up at seven to study more.  In grad school, it’s a little less exciting, especially in the frigid cold.  I spent an embarrassingly long time at the library today, and there was class squished somewhere amidst those hours, and finals haven’t even technically started.  However, tonight, I found myself drinking vodka, cooking obnoxiously garlicky pasta, and having a dance party to the Beta Band at inappropriate hours.  I was giddy with glee, and pulling dance moves of which the details will not be disclosed.  Did I mention that I have a presentation tomorrow at nine o’clock in the morning?  Like I said, finals are horrible, but the consequential psychosis comes with the occasional swing of mania that makes it worthwhile for a hot minute.

In case you were wondering, the pasta was a garlic and olive oil masterpiece, with lemon, tons of parsley, and enough hot pepper flakes to guarantee heartburn at this late hour.  I finished it off with some Parmesan.  It was all my favorite ingredients piled up together on one plate. This is actually a frequent antidote for exhaustion and desperation in my apartment. On this particular occasion, I garnished it with some capers for a dose of briny, salty goodness.  I will provide more detail one of these days, but not now, because I’m busy acting out.  If we’re all very lucky, I will refrain from posting until after finals are over, and hopefully, I will have recovered from the urge to divulge such psychotic drivel.    

Avgolemono Soup

For the past few weeks, the weather has been extremely fickle in Boulder.  Three inches of snow one weekend, and 75 degrees and sunny the next.  After a miserable walk to school in precipitation that was somewhere between snow and rain, I decided that soup was the only food I would accept for dinner.  I chose egg-lemon soup, in homage to my hometown, Detroit, which seems to have a Greek diner at every major intersection (we call them “coney islands” in Detroit).  Egg-lemon soup, avgolemono*, is basically Greek chicken soup, but thickened at the end with a mixture of egg and lemon.  After scouring every recipe source imaginable, I created my own synthesized recipe of the ones I liked best.  I wanted to it hearty and satisfying, so I made it with plenty of chicken and vegetables.  Traditionally, it is made with either rice or orzo* pasta, and after a miniature existential crisis, I went with orzo.  I never knew how much anxiety I could generate over choosing between starches.   

Avgolemono Soup (adapted from Mark Bittman’s “How to Cook Everything,” foodandwine.com, and Cat Cora)

6 cups reduced sodium chicken stock

1 cup water

2 carrots, diced

1 celery stalk, diced

½ onion, diced

2 bay leaves

2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (probably about ¾ to 1 lb.)

¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice

2 teaspoons lemon zest, grated (optional)

Generous ½ cup orzo

2 eggs

Salt and pepper to taste

Chopped flat leaf parsley for garnish (optional)

§  In a large stockpot, bring chicken stock and water to a gentle boil (I added a few grinds of pepper).  Add chicken breasts, and simmer in stock until cooked through (about 12-15 minutes).  Remove chicken, and shred meat when it’s cool enough to handle.

§  Add carrots, celery, onion, and bay leaf to the stock.  Simmer for 5-7 minutes, and add orzo.  Simmer vegetables and pasta, stirring occasionally, for about 15 more minutes, or until everything is tender.  Remove bay leaves, re-season if necessary, and remove from heat.

§  Meanwhile, beat 2 eggs until frothy and lemon juice in a large bowl.  Remove two cups of broth from the soup pot.  While whisking egg and lemon mixture, slowly stream in broth (this is called tempering*).  Then add tempered mixture back to the soup pot.  Reheat if necessary, but be careful.  If the soup comes to a boil, it will curdle.  Taste it for seasoning and add lemon zest if you want it more lemony.  Garnish with parsley and enjoy. 

Obviously, I enjoy cooking.  A lot.  However, this recipe was exceptionally fun.  It was a process, and a lovely one, at that.  I poached chicken, chopped vegetables, juiced lemons, whisked eggs, tempered liquids, and loved every minute of it.  I took my time, drank vodka, and listened to my Elvis Costello Pandora radio station.  As much as I loved the soup, I loved cooking it more.  And I don’t mean this to speak against the soup, but rather, to applaud cooking.

Ok, I’ll get off my soapbox now.  To honest, I wasn’t thrilled with the soup when I came off the stove.  It was fine; the broth had a nice flavor, but the texture wasn’t thrilling.  It didn’t have the body I was expecting.  Plus, I enjoyed the process to such an extent, that it would be hard for the actual soup to live up to it.  However, something magical happens with soup when stowed in the fridge overnight.  Somehow, the sum of its parts becomes a cohesive whole, and this soup definitely lived up to this prophecy.  The flavor deepened, and the broth became fuller in body, slightly viscous, without being a thick.  Simply put, the leftovers were divine.  And wouldn’t you just love to return home to a steamy bowl of avgolemono soup that needed just 10 minutes** on the stove?  Of course, you would.   

*See glossary for definitions

**Reheat soup over a gentle heat, and keep an eye on it so that it doesn’t curdle.

Penne and Broccoli

Penne and broccoli is one of the simplest and most satisfying dishes in my repertoire.  Generally, the only thing I may have to purchase in order to make this meal a reality is a broccoli crown.  It is “pantry cooking” at its finest.  I have yet again to offer thanks to Marc Bittman* for dish, although my preparation includes a few crucial variations from his original recipe.  I started making this when I was first learning to cook, and it was because of this dish that I began speculating about flavor combinations and what it meant to alter a recipe with success.  In general, many mistakes were made as I fine-tuned this skill, however this dish is close to foolproof. 

If you Google “penne with broccoli,” you will find many minor variations on the same theme.  Some call for Parmesan, some Romano, and some do not require cheese at all.  This is actually one of the few pasta dishes that I would potentially accept without cheese, but why deprive yourself?  Some recipes call for hot pepper flakes; some call for flat leaf parsley; some call for neither.  Ultimately, the variety amongst the recipes epitomizes what cooking should be: cook your food the way you like it.  With that being said, I will present you with my personal rendition so you may tailor it to your tastes. 

Penne with Broccoli:

While a pot of water comes to a boil, clean and chop a smallish broccoli crown (I like about 1/3 lb. for myself and this includes one hearty meal, and a portion of leftovers).  Put the broccoli in a bowl, cover it with vented plastic wrap, and microwave for about a minute and half (you want the broccoli just shy of al dente* since it will finish cooking later).

 When the water is almost to a boil, sauté couple of minced garlic cloves and a generous sprinkle of hot pepper flakes in a two to three tablespoons of olive oil.  Zest* a lemon into the hot garlicky oil. 

Add the par-cooked broccoli.  Season with kosher salt* and freshly ground pepper*. Then add about a quarter of a box of penne to the boiling water (I like to salt to water).  You want to give the broccoli about ten minutes in the pan, so time the cooking of your pasta accordingly.  With that being said, it is better for the sauce (or broccoli in this case) to wait for the pasta than the other way around, so it is best to wait an extra minute or two before putting the pasta in the water if you’re fuzzy on the timing.  However, in the event that this doesn’t work out, and the pasta is ready before the sauce, reserve at least half a cup of the pasta cooking liquid* before draining the pasta to help revive it and bring everything together in the final stages.

While the penne cooks, mash the broccoli with the back of a spoon (I generally cook with a wooden spoon.  It makes an excellent broccoli-masher).  Really brutalize the broccoli, break it apart, mash it into little pieces.  It will adhere better to the penne.  If the pan looks bone dry, add a little more olive oil (don't worry, it's good for you).  Just before the penne is ready, juice the zested lemon into the pan (I like to juice it through my hand, or even the grater I used to zest the lemon, to catch seeds). 

Then add the cooked penne.  I like to add the penne directly from the pot to the hot pan of broccoli, using a slotted spoon.  This way, you will get a fair amount of the starchy pasta cooking liquid* into the pan, which brings the dish together.  If you prefer to drain your pasta in a colander, reserve a little cooking water first.  Toss everything together; add salt and pepper to taste, flat leaf parsley if desired (although it is by no means necessary here), and parmesan.  Enjoy!

This recipe is not a far cry from any other penne with broccoli you may find online, or in a cookbook, except for one element: the lemon.  Personally, I find the lemon to be mandatory.  It adds both brightness and depth of flavor.  However, if you have a hankering for this, and have all the ingredients, but the lemon, you will enjoy it nonetheless.  This pasta dish is enormously satisfying, especially considering it only requires a handful of inexpensive ingredients.  The penne makes a major contribution to the satisfaction quotient.  The buxom tubes are deceptive to both your eye and your stomach; a small amount seems to be a lot more than it is in reality.  Furthermore, broccoli is such a substantial vegetable.  As much as I love zucchini or bell peppers, broccoli can stand alone in a way that other vegetables cannot compete with.  Plus this dish is ripe with flavor: garlicky, lemony-bright, spicy, and salty.  Despite its short list of ingredients, it is tall on flavor.

*See glossary for definitions