Nonna's Kitchen 14 - Gnocci

The Preamble:

This week’s recipes for Gnocchi inspired me to start off with a small Italian pronunciation lesson. (I’m asking your forgiveness in advance, because I’m using phonetic sounds rather than correct typographical pronunciation symbols.) You see, there’s this very famous chef on the Food Network, quite well known for “kicking it up a notch.” He’s an entertaining guy, and he cooks great things, but over the years he’s done a few different versions of Gnocchi that I’ve seen, and he always calls them “NO-key.” AAARGH! In spoken Italian, the letter “g” is not silent, but adds a slight “y” sound to the consonant it precedes. For example, Pogliaghi - a very famous Italian bicycle builder - is pronounced “pole-YAH-gee,” and not “pogue-lee-AH-gee.” The city of Bologna is “bo-LOAN-yuh.” and Bagna Cauda, the famous Piedmontese anchovy/garlic/olive oil dip – translated literally as “hot bath” – is “BAHN-yuh COW-duh.” Seems pretty simple, right? SO, when you’re telling your guests what you’ve cooked for dinner, please say, “NYO-key.” I know, it’s a little harder because it’s at the front of the word, but I’m sure you’ll master it with a little practice.

In the interest of not boring you all to death, we’ll skip the various ways to pronounce the letter “c” in Italian until much later. Like maybe never…

Gnocchi, literally translated, means “dumpling.” There are many forms of gnocchi; they can be made from potatoes, breadcrumbs or cornmeal. They can be flavored with herbs or cheese, they may incorporate vegetables like spinach or pumpkin, and they can be savory or sweet. They’re generally cooked like pasta and served with a sauce, though not always. In essence, gnocchi are yet another way that poor Italian farmers and laborers stretched a little bit of meat or cheese by adding something starchy and filling, thereby feeding many mouths cheaply.

This doesn’t make gnocchi any less delicious! My family makes two basic categories of gnocchi: potato gnocchi and gnocchi alla romana, which are made with semolina. Gnocchi alla romana – “gnocchi in the Roman style” were always my grandfather’s favorite. My mother traditionally made them at Easter, and often for Nonno’s birthday in October. Potato gnocchi tended to be a fall thing, often eaten during duck hunting season, and as a post-Thanksgiving and post-Christmas meal. Why? Leftover mashed potatoes, of course! The best base for potato gnocchi is cold mashed potatoes; Nonna always served mashed potatoes with roast duck, and with turkey and capon at the holidays. Gnocchi are so beloved in my family that Nonna ALWAYS made many more potatoes than we could possibly eat; if she made a normal-sized batch, at least one of us would admonish everyone else to fill up on bread and not eat the potatoes so we could have gnocchi later!

The Recipe:
Gnocchi
Serves 4-6 as a first course

In my family, potato gnocchi are just “gnocchi” and are traditionally served with chicken cacciatore – chicken stewed in tomatoes. You can use any sauce, really, from simple browned butter and sage leaves to your favorite tomato sauce, though maybe not with a heavy Bolognese. Think of gnocchi as a slightly delicate pasta, and use your imagination.

Total prep and cooking time: about 45 minutes

Ingredients:
2 C. cold mashed potatoes (two medium Russet potatoes, roughly)
1 egg, slightly beaten
1 1/2 - 2 C. flour
salt to taste

Place a small saucepan of water on the stove and bring to just below a rolling boil. Mix the potatoes, the egg, a liberal dash of salt and 1 cup of the flour in a large bowl with a wooden spoon; turn out onto a well-floured surface and start to add additional flour, kneading with your hands as you incorporate enough flour to get a cohesive mixture. The final amount ultimately depends on how “wet” your mashed potatoes are; the texture you’re aiming for is somewhat softer than Play-Doh, like a good biscuit dough. When you think you’re close, pinch off a bit of dough about the size of a grape and drop it into the simmering water. When it rises to the surface, it’s cooked. If it disintegrated and totally lost its shape, you need more flour. If it’s gummy and practically chokes you, then you’ve got a little too much flour; incorporate a tablespoon or two of olive oil and try again. Though it sounds odd, you’ll know the correct texture in your mouth, and the trial and error method isn’t as intimidating as it may sound.

When you’ve got your dough at the desired consistency, bring a large pot of water to boil and begin to shape the gnocchi. Take a lump of dough and roll it out on your cutting board into a “snake” roughly the diameter of your thumb, then cut into 1” long pieces. The gnocchi need a little texture to hold the sauce; Nonna and my mother simply roll the pieces with a thumb, adding a small crease. You can roll them across the tines of a fork to make little ridges (they even make a wooden gnocchi paddle specifically for this) but we never bother.

Put the formed gnocchi on a cookie sheet dusted with flour and proceed with another lump until all of your gnocchi are formed. Cook them in batches in salted boiling water, removing them with a slotted spoon or spider as they rise to the surface, and toss them with your choice of sauces. Serve piping hot!

The Recipe:
Gnocchi alla romana
Serves 6-8 as a first course

This version of gnocchi is very rich, so small portions are a must!

approximate prep and cooking time – 1 hour plus 2 hours cooling time

Ingredients:
3 C. milk (don’t use skim!)
1/2 tsp. salt
liberal grating of nutmeg
1/2 tsp. finely ground pepper – white if you have it
3/4 C. semolina flour (available in most supermarkets)
7 Tbsp. butter, divided
1 C. grated Romano cheese, divided
2 eggs

Bring the milk to a boil (don’t let it scald) in a saucepan over medium high heat. Add the salt, pepper and nutmeg, then add the semolina in a slow stream, stirring constantly and not letting the temperature drop below a boil. When all of the semolina is incorporated, reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook, stirring constantly, until the mixture (which resembles Cream of Wheat) is thick enough that the spoon will stand up on its own – about 10 minutes. Remove from the heat. Stir in 2 Tbsp. of butter and allow the mixture to cool slightly. Beat the eggs with 3/4 cup of the Romano cheese and add slowly to the semolina mixture, stirring constantly; the fat in the butter and the cheese will keep the eggs from curdling if you go slowly enough.

Grease a rimmed cookie sheet or jelly roll pan with 1 Tbsp. of butter and pour the mixture out onto it, smoothing it into an even layer about 1/4” to 1/2” thick. Cool in the refrigerator for at least 90 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Grease a shallow oval or 9” x 13” rectangular baking dish with 1 Tbsp. of butter. Using a small glass, a cookie cutter or a sharp knife, cut the cooled semolina into 1 1/2” rounds and layer them in the baking dish, overlapping slightly. Neatness counts here, so layer evenly and make a pretty pattern! Melt the remaining 3 Tbsp. of butter and drizzle evenly over the top, then sprinkle with the remaining 1/4 cup of Romano cheese. Bake for 15 minutes; if you’re brave and willing to be constantly attentive, you can finish the dish by browning it slightly under a high broiler. Be careful, as there are only seconds between pretty and burned! Allow to cool for 5 minutes before serving.

Mangia, mangia, fatte grande!