How Not to Make Pasta

A frequent question I find myself asking: what shall I do with this random pile of food? Since I generally lack the foresight to plan anything more than a single dish, this tends to be a perpetual battle. The farmers' market only makes this worse, since I fall victim to Bayes' theorem when purchasing produce: the chance that I buy more of an item given I already have it at home depends strongly on my inability to realize that I have that item regardless of the fact that I always buy it...

Normally the problem is what to do with 15 pounds of carrots, but occasionally I'm left to contemplate an acquisition complementing something that isn't usually found festering away in my fridge. Nick came to visit last weekend and picked out some chorizo, thereby forcing some sort of innovation. Clams were apparently what would come to fill that role — wrangled at Pearson's Port (stationed quite literally under the PCH).

I've recently been informed that my earlier comments on a circumstantially meat-sparse diet haven't exactly rung true with many here posts. It would be altogether too easy to blame Nick for his damning influence, but realistically I think it's because I've been spending more effort cooking lately and have picked up old habits as a result. I still think that cooking good vegetarian food is extremely difficult, and I really haven't mastered the task.

These things aside — there was hell to pay as we attempted to force pasta through my truly forsaken kitchen-aid attachment. At one point there were several coat hangers dripping tangled shards of spaghetti onto some strategically placed pages of the LA Times (I'm sure it was only celebrity gossip, anyway.) A cursory search revealed a general sentiment that said attachment likely serves better as a paper-weight. The amount of broth that resulted was far too much to be served over the pasta, and it in fact turned into an excellent soup with the addition of some rice the following day.

The soup may have been better than the bivalve concoction, but here goes nonetheless. A brief warning, I hardly remember what went on!

Chorizo and Clams Served Over Pasta

For the Pasta

• 2 Cups Flour, with Some Semolina and Whole Wheat
• 2 Eggs
• Few Glugs Olive Oil
• Few Pinches Salt
• Enough water to aid cohesion

For the Other Stuff

• 1/2 Lb. or so Chorizo, Sliced Roughly into 1/2" Rounds
• 1 1/2 Lbs. Clams, Rinsed
• Two Medium Peppers, Diced and Purple if Desired
• Some onions and some Shallots, Diced
• Few Cloves Garlic, Annihilated
• Cup of Dry White Wine
• 2 Cups Vegetable Stock
• 2 Medium Tomatoes, Seeded and Peeled
• Small Plume of Parsley, de-stemmed

For the Pasta

1. Mix Together (Probably by Hand) everything and knead for a few minutes — let rest for ten, then kneed again for a while until smooth. Add a little more water or flour if the dough is dry or wet.
2. Roll out workably-sized section of dough until very thin. Dust with flour, roll or fold a few times along the same direction, and slice out a nice thick fettuccine. See note at bottom.
3. Let dry on coat hangers or similarly ridiculous item if not cooking immediately. Alternatively you can keep it wet with a damp tea towel.
4. When the rest of the dish is almost ready cook the pasta briefly in salted, boiling water until done — I really have no idea how long this takes on average.

For the Rest

1. In a lightly oiled skillet on medium-high, saute the sausage (which is probably already cooked) until a nice brown layer develops on the pan. Remove the chorizo.
2. Add the onions and turn down the heat and sweat until the moisture has left and they are starting to stick to the bottom. Add the wine and turn heat to high to boil off.
3. Add the tomatoes and cook on medium for another few minutes, then add stock and bring to a lively simmer. Regulating heat to keep a simmer, add the clams and cook, covered, until the clams have opened — a few minutes. Stragglers can be given some extra time, but closed clams should be discarded. Try not to overcook those which open early. Add back in the Chorizo and make sure you've bothered to cook the pasta.
4. Serve over the pasta in a shallow bowl or deep plate, and perhaps save the rest for soup! Sprinkle parsley and season to taste.

NB: Garlic can apparently be put through a press with the skin on — this saves gobs of time and makes cleaning the press absurdly easy. Choose a tapered, one-piece, rolling pin for the pasta to avoid splintered handles. Pasta rollers probably save a bunch of time, and must work infinitely better than my own useless mechanical contraption. Add a cup or so of cooked brown rice to the remaining broth to make a delicious soup.