Skip to main content

The Spaghetti Book



Guilia Melucci is a sad woman. A victim of the New York dating game, she runs through one man after the other, searching for her true love. When it is amply clear to any reader of "I loved, I lost, I made spaghetti" (or the spaghetti book, as the members of This Book Makes Me Cook have taken to call it) that the first and the only love of her life is the food she cooks.

The book is chock full of recipes, almost all a nod to Ms. Melucci's Italian past. And quite unlike the weak, average story the recipes are written in a witty and charming manner, reflecting the author's mood at the time. Like the Ineffectual Eggplant Parmigiana, cooked for two in a flailing relationship, "plus the three other people you wish were there to help keep the conversation going". Or the yorkshire puddings that deflate rapidly, like expectations!

I picked a dish from Guilia's happy times. The beginning of a relationship, when she's cooking bright, sunny dishes for two. This orzo salad, in fact, is from the sunniest relationship in the book. I made it with elbow macaroni instead of orzo but the flavors really work, no matter what pasta shape you choose.

Boil 1/2 cup pasta as per package directions until it is cooked but still have some bite. Drain and add a tbsp of olive oil. Once the pasta cools, mix in a cup of cherry tomatoes, 1/4 cup shredded basil, 2 tbsp toasted pine nuts, a tsp of white wine vinegar plus salt and pepper to your taste.

For November, we are reading "It must've been something I ate" by Jeffrey Steingarten. Do drop me a line if you would like to read with us.

Comments

Looking forward to the book. The recipes sound interesting. :)
Anonymous said…
Spot on review....not sure Ill make anything though..inspite there being lots of doable recipes.
Myvegfare said…
Hi simran!, looks like a very interesting book, A very good review too, I couldn't get it may be someday I will read it. That is one lovely colour pot though

Popular posts from this blog

Mystery Fruit

This only happened a few times every year, just when the rainy season kicked in. A street hawker will come by, straw basket on head. He will yell "kaul chapni" and I will run out to buy a bundle of these. Stuck together like flowers, they looked like a bouquet. Every hole contains a little fruit. You break out the package, peel the tiny fruit that pops out and eat it. Done slowly, it can take you an hour to eat an head. Or did, when I was about 12 years old. That was the last time I saw this fruit. I've never seen it again, didn't even know what it was called or where it came from. Three weeks back, Vikram Doctor wrote about a store in Khar that sells Sindhi foods. He described this fruit and I knew it came from my vivid childhood memories. And finally, I knew we were talking about lotus fruit. Now talk about coincidences. Last weekend, I was passing by a lane in Bandra and for the first time in many, many years I saw the straw basket filled with my mytery fru

Of Brun and Bun Maska

There is more to Bombay's breads than the pao that goes into pao bhaji and vada pao. There's Brun. and there's bun. We will get there. First, you have to get to know the city's Parsis. And Iranis, who are also Zoroastrians, but came to city a little later, in the late 19th or early 20th century. And when they came, they brought with them these little cafes that dot the city. I am no expert on Irani chai cafes. And I can't tell you whether Yazdani Bakery will provide you the best experience or Kyani's. But I can tell you a few things you need to ignore when you get there. Appearances don't matter; so ignore the fact that the marble/glass top tables and the wooden chairs look a bit dilapidated. Also ignore the rundown look the place sports. Instead, get yourself settled. And order a bun muska. This one's familiar to you as a first cousin of the soft hamburger bun. It's similar, but just a tad bit sweeter. Maska, of course, is the generous dollop o

Kadhi Chawal

I just can't think of what to write today. That's what my absolute favorite meal does to me, I just want to stop talking and dig right in. So I won't ramble and go straight on the recipe for kadhi. First, make the pakoras that would go in the kadhi. Slice an onion lengthwise. Make a batter with 1/2 cup chickpea flour (besan), salt, red chilli powder and water. Dip onions in this batter and deep fry until crisp. Keep aside. Now blend 1 cup yogurt and 1/3 cup besan into a paste. Add 3-4 cups water to make a very thin blend. Heat a tbsp of oil in a pan. Add a tsp each of mustard seeds, cumin seeds, ajwain (carom seeds) and methre (fenugreek seeds). Let splutter for a few seconds. Now add a large onion, cut lengthwise into thin slices and cook until browned lightly. Pour in the yogurt/besan mix and add 1 tsp turmeric powder, 1 tsp salt and 1/2 tsp red chilli powder. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat and let simmer for at least half an hour. You have to stir this occasio