Food for Working

Jeez! “Food for Working” sounds like a white-collar pretension of blue-collar roots, doesn’t it? But I don’t mean it that way. We all have jobs. We all sometimes get up earlier than we wish. We have aspects of our jobs we hate (and, hopefully, aspects we love). We all feel we’re worth more than we’re paid. We all get tired and irritable. We all come home from our jobs to eat things that, in a more perfect world, we’d avoid but that are quick, easy, and require no thought. Food that satisfies nothing more than our need for enough nutrition to enable us to get up too early tomorrow and do it all over again.

I’ve eaten my share of such meals, and I would be the last to argue there’s something inherently wrong with a TV dinner or stopping by a KFC (I don’t know what a KFC is, but it tastes a little bit like chicken) on your way home or even ordering a pizza from Papa John’s. I eat all those things, but not often. For me, they’re almost treats (and it’s definitely a treat when I get a pizza delivered) and I like it that way.

When I come home from work (or, these days, knock off from work at home) I want something packed with flavor and goodness. Something that can make up for a bad day or celebrate a good day equally well.

But when I come home from work (or, these days, knock off from work at home) I want something packed with flavor and goodness. Something that can make up for a bad day or celebrate a good day equally well — and in my years of eating and cooking I’ve found that nothing serves so well as peasant food.

What is peasant food? It’s the native food of a culture. It’s what the poor people, the working class, ate. In this country it’s what the immigrants ate before they got hooked on Kraft Mac-n-Cheese and Burger King and frozen dinners and forgot how to cook. And I guess, to that degree, the idea of peasant food is pretentious — even condescending. But, again, that’s not my intent.

Although I don’t come from a blue-collar background, I did grow up on a farm and have hauled more hay, dug more post-holes, and weeded more corn than I like to remember. I’ve also made a living refinishing furniture, making pizza, checking stock, playing music, and a few other things. My life as a well-paid white-collar worker was relatively brief — and even then my preference was for lamb daube from Provencal, masallah from India, Cornish pasties from England, and fried chicken from the South. It’s not food well-suited to our sedentary life-styles, but it’s food that makes you glad you were born with a set of functioning taste buds.

Some of these peasant foods are now regarded as haute cuisine. Fondue? Invented by Swiss herders. Bouillabaisse? Whatever the fishermen in Marseilles couldn’t sell. Cassoulet? Beans used to make a bit of leftover meat go further. Pâte? It’s just meatloaf with the added advantage of making liver more palatable.

Then there are the wonderful things like stew, chile, homemade pizza, and barbeque that remain un-apologetically low-brow. And they are foods that take cheap ingredients and make them deeply satisfying. For instance two 12-inch pizzas from Papa John’s cost about $25, but I can make two superior pizzas for $8.

Whatever their origins, such foods are simple to make, packed with flavor, and a satisfying end to a long day whether you were pruning grape vines, managing a shop, or debating an ordinance at city hall. They just aren’t “fast.” But many such foods are better the second or third day anyway — so make them when you have time and regard the leftovers as a bonus. Something to be looked forward to, not avoided. Something to make a really good dinner completely painless, at least half the time. Something for those nights when you get home tired and hungry. Something to replenish your body and your soul.

And if tonight is such a night, Pastitsio, a Greek meat and pasta pie, is a perfect example. It’s best with lamb, but beef also works. Pastitsio is rich and savory — a genuine “rib-sticker” as we say in the South — and is at least as good as leftovers as it is the day you make it. Don’t let the nutmeg and cinnamon scare you off — you’ll never know they’re there, but the dish is poorer without them. Enjoy it with a hearty Zinfandel or Malbec.

Pastitsio
Serves 8.

1/2 pound penne pasta
1/2 pound shredded mozarella

Lamb mixture:
1 pound ground lamb (or beef)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion — diced
2 large cloves garlic — minced
1 tablespoon minced fresh rosemary (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 tablespoon minced fresh oregano (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup red wine
1 can finely diced tomatoes (15 oz)
4 ounces feta cheese — crumbled

Sauce:
3 tablespoons butter
3 tablespoons flour
2 cups milk
2 egg yolks — lightly beaten
4 ounces kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese — grated or shredded
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Cook penne according to package directions. Drain, rinse with cold water to eliminate sticking, and set aside.

Lamb mixture:
Heat olive oil in a large sauté pan over medium high heat. Brown lamb in two batches, seasoning with salt and pepper. Set lamb aside and pour off excess grease.

Reduce heat to medium and add onion. Cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add garlic, rosemary, oregano, cinnamon, and nutmeg. Cook another minute. Add wine and deglaze pan. Reduce wine to about 1 tablespoon. Stir in tomatoes, including liquid, and lamb. Season with additional salt and pepper. Simmer for about 15 minutes. Stir in feta cheese and cook another 5 minutes.

Heat oven to 400F.

Sauce:
Heat milk in the microwave on high for 1 1/2 minutes. Melt butter in a sauce pan over low heat. Whisk in flour and cook, stirring constantly, for four minutes. Slowly pour in hot milk, whisking steadily, and cook until thickened. Slowly whisk in egg yolks. Whisk in kefalotiri (or parmegiano) cheese, cooking until melted and thick. Stir in salt and pepper.

Assemble:
Toss pasta with shredded mozzarella. Layer 3/4 of pasta in the bottom of 9 x 13 casserole dish. Layer meat mixture on top of pasta. Distribute remaining pasta over meat. Pour sauce evenly over pasta.

Place casserole in middle of oven and cook for 25 – 30 minutes until top browns.

Technorati: Food | recipe | lamb | pasta | greece | greek | pastitsio

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