Our good friend, of whom we have seen very little recently, but who persists as an unwitting gastronomic inspiration to us – Juan Camilo – struck again recently when we spied a mess of veal brains at our local butcher. [I'm not sure what the proper collective noun is for brains, but the term seems appropriate given their form, even if something like "florettes" might be more marketable.] We are forever indebted to JC for introducing us to and instructing us on Colombian food, but also for taking us to Ali Kabab Cafe, happily for him, just across the street from his Astoria, Queens, apartment.

This celebrated, only in New York, hole-in-the-wall, 5 table, nominally Egyptian restaurant is run by the enigmatic, tri-lingual owner, Ali El Sayed, on the back of one tiny assistant, an oven and a single hot plate. These limitations combined with a menu that you should ignore in favor of the daily specials and Ali’s rather, shall-we-say, changeable moods, make for a unique dining experience, during the latter stages of which we were presented with a platter of deep-fried veal brains decorated sparsely with salad greens, a thin harissa sauce, and lemon wedges.

This rosy, if slightly hazy memory (made so by several bottles of heavy Algerian wine), was instantly recalled upon sighting said brains and my hand sprang to pocket, promptly unencumbering it of three and a half of your American dollars. It was only at home, several hours later, after this initial enthusiasm had cooled, that I was left to consider how to make the best use of my grey matter.

I should point out that this is not an uncommon occurrence and in the past, the excited purchase of unusual foodstuffs has frequently prompted breathtaking swerves of culinary daring, as seen in these here web pages, – an outcome I was particularly counting on in this instance since the four pound ox heart I also sneaked into the shopping cart had taken up all available room in the freezer.

But as I sat and stared at them – the passing minutes becoming quarters and then halves of an hour, the milky whiteness of the brains reflecting my mental vacuum back at me, echoing the blankness of my thoughts – nothing at all, even less than usual, sprang to mind. In fact, had not this vacuity coincided serendipitously with the harvest of our very first eggplants (2) and the watching of the TiVo’d episode of No Reservations in which Tony goes to Naples and eats a remarkable eggplant parmigiana, the brains might have been squeezed into a dark corner of the freezer and consigned to a lengthy hibernation.

Inspiration doesn’t always have to take you all that far to rouse you from your stupor, and in truth, I made no greater mental leap than removing the greens, lemon and harissa from that dish at Ali. If Ali’s brains and rudimentary appliances had provided him all that was necessary, I reasoned, there should be no impediment, barring inferior technique and lesser quality ingredients, to my own mental faculties doing likewise. Besides, I was certain that scrambled or boiled brains wouldn’t have any photogenic quality whatsoever.

Thus, the dish you see before you is a play on the combination of eggplant parmigiana and veal or chicken milanese: a roasted eggplant-wrapped package of red sauce and mozzarella seats a pair of breaded and deep-fried brains in cross-section.

For anyone still reading, I want to be clear that, certainly, I am sympathetic to those for whom brains might be an anatomical bridge too far. Had I not been in an expansive (read:tipsy) mood at Ali, I doubt I would have been so bold, though I am glad that I was. (In the interests of full disclosure, I should add that Juan Camilo did not find the brains to his taste.) Similarly, I am sure that even if it is interesting to them, it will be no incentive whatsoever to the skeptics, to learn that predators, including our very own ancestors, often eat the brains of their prey first, leaving the rest of the carcass until later so as to make sure they partake of the most nutritious parts before anyone can take it away from them.

Nonetheless, we swear that veal brains are the new sweetbreads – which may mean nothing to you unless you’re accustomed to a little nose to tail eating – they are mild, firm but almost creamy in the mouth, and have very little of the minerality typically found in organ meats. Despite only the remotest of chance that you will, we (as always) encourage you to give brains a try. They are by no means an everyday foodstuff and definitely demand a mental leap, but isn’t it true that almost anything really rewarding requires some thought?

Those with even a basic understanding of food history probably know that the hamburger as we know it today is an American adaptation of the “Hamburger-style steak” which originated in the now-German city of Hamburg, and was brought to this country by immigrants from Schleswig-Holstein. Demonstrating typical cunning and salemanship, all the Americans did was make this dish portable, and, having done so, they set out to make the world obese and diabetic by drowning these wildly popular sandwiches in hydrogenated fat and salt, and selling them for $1 each.

A marginally less successful, but somewhat healthier, tactic was adopted by Italian immigrants in Argentina, who, when they found that chicken was viewed with only slightly less disdain than fish in their new country, modified their recipe for pollo alla Milanese to include the ubiquitous Argentine beef. Like shooting fish in a barrel, once launched these new breaded and fried beef cutlets quickly became a hugely popular alternative to a steak across Argentina – a country that, since it, statistically, eats more beef per head than anywhere else on Earth, was likely crying out for alternative ways to serve their national dish.

Known as milanesas, they can be found in one form or another on menus and in grocery stores throughout Buenos Aires: most are beef, though chicken and veal (de ternera) are also typical, and they come in a variety of arrangements, the most common of which seems to be alla Napolitana.  This latter dish consists of a breaded cutlet topped with prosciutto (or cooked ham), melted cheese [cuartirola (sic) [Quartirola Lombarda] or Port Salut] and a splash of chunky, crimson tomato sauce, and is often served with fries (papas fritas). Not many people know this, but it is not, in fact, named for Neapolitan-style pizza, or the way the dish is served in Naples, rather it is so-called because it was first served in Jose Napoli’s, now-defunct, Buenos Aires Pizzeria Napoli establishment in the 1930s.

Indeed, this dish, remarkably similar to the French poulet cordon bleu, can be found throughout much of South America, and, in Chile, an almost identical dish is served as Milanesa Kaiser, or simply Escalopa, reflecting, perhaps, more the original central European roots of the dish in the Austrian Wiener Schnitzel, than its later variant the Lombardian cotoletta alla Milanese. In fact, such is the popularity of this technique of breading pounded meat and then shallow frying it, that you can find similar dishes throughout much of the western hemisphere with the wonderfully decadent Southern dish of chicken fried steak being perhaps the best known in this country.

And, resembling the frankly magnificent “chicken parm” sandwiches found in almost every pizza joint in the north-east US, the milanesa also sometimes appears in sandwiches in Argentina. As we had recently received some delicious samples from Napa, Ca., company GL Mezzetta, from their new (to the north-east US) Napa Valley Bistro line, including a jar of tomato sauce and one of peperoncini (pickled hot peppers), with the challenge of using them to create a contest-winning sandwich, we decided to use them to build ourselves a delicious, gut-busting torta de milanesa alla Napolitana.

An hour later, full and sporting messy red-sauce mustaches, we began to wonder how come milanesas do not seem to have had quite the same bloating effect on the Argentine population as the hamburger has in America…

Mezzetta Napa Valley Bistro Products
Tomato Basil Pasta Sauce
Altogether this is an excellent jarred sauce and beats the pants off its competition. It’s pleasantly chunky; the wine provides a nice rounded flavor and doesn’t overpower the tomatoes with too much acid; and the small pool of olive oil that had settled on the top of the sauce was a good sign, showing both that it included olive oil and that it wasn’t fully emulsified with stabilizers or other preservatives. Other bonuses for a jarred sauce include the clear listing of “fresh” ingredients on the label, rather than their dried or powdered counterparts commonly found in regular, generic bottled pasta sauce. Our only complaint, and this is a matter of personal taste, is that it was slightly too heavy on the oregano. If you’re a fan of oregano in your pasta sauces though, this is probably the finest jarred sauce you can find.

Make That Sandwich
If you’d like to enter your sandwich to the GL Mezzetta Make That Sandwich Contest, click here and read the guidelines and other small print, and submit your entry. The grand prize is $25,000!! Good luck, happy sandwich-making and buen provecho!

A month or so ago we bought a package of veal liver at our local grocery store telling ourselves that we going to cook them, but not really having any idea how. We’ve made veal kidneys before without relying on a recipe so we were convinced we could do the same with the beast’s liver, but when we got home we found ourselves bereft of inspiration, and we put them the freezer and they there stayed until recently when we realized that we must figure out something to do with them.

Inspiration is overrated, so we abandoned our search for it, opting instead for a simple breading and pan-frying approach. You’ll notice that this dish kind of resembles a veal milanese in appearance, and it does, just don’t pound the livers or they’ll split and become purple goo. Because of this resemblance, as I was making it I was thinking of the great breaded sweetbreads we ate at Prune, and at the same time, I imagined this dish would be the perfect kind of thing to have for lunch on a cold, foggy day after a brisk walk in the rolling hills of Piemonte, and washed down with a gentle nebbiolo. And that might be the case, but it was just as good with a cold beer after a miserable rainy day trawling around Manhattan in search of baby gifts.

Veal Liver “alla Milanese” with Garlicky Mushrooms

Ingredients

• 6oz veal liver, cleaned
• 1 egg, beaten
• 4oz plain flour
• 3 slices stale country bread, crumbed
• 3oz olive oil
• 1 large portobello mushroom
• 1-2 medium cloves garlic, finely sliced
• 2 sprigs thyme, leaves removed and rubbed
• salt and black pepper

Recipe

• Put egg, flour and breadcrumbs into separate bowls
• Slice liver into thin rounds and sprinkle with salt and pepper
• Heat oil in a saute pan to medium heat
• Chop mushroom roughly into chunks and saute with garlic until soft but still al dente.
• Sprinkle with thyme and remove to a warm plate.
• Dredge liver slices first in flour, then in egg, and finally in breadcrumbs before placing gently in pan
• Fry liver for 2 minutes each side or until coating is golden brown
• Drain briefly on paper towels before serving immediately with mushrooms
• Garnish with lemon slices and good balsamic vinegar. Enjoy!

I’ve talked about my sweet ‘ole grandmom, Anna, a few times on this blog. This was a woman who waited tables at the Golden Nugget (now Bally’s Grand) casino (R.I.P.) in Atlantic City until she retired at 76. This is the same woman who would wear winter gloves in the summer because her tiny hands would get cold. Once she angrily blamed the family for “stealing” her gloves, only to open up the dishwasher to unload and found them stuck to a few plates. This was also a woman who would wrap up uneaten meals and sandwiches from her shift at the restaurant and pawn them on us. This was also a woman who was so excited to get 8 free place settings of Golden Nugget-labeled china before it became Bally’s (thank god she did not feature these prominently in her non-existent china cabinet!).

This was also a woman who would cook for her family every night but passed virtually no family recipes on to me. I still get sad that I didn’t push her more to try and remember all her old-school recipes before she died. She loved to say in her deep, raspy voice, “Oh, Amy, ya know I don’t remember how to do that!”. But even into her final years, Anna could still make a few of her classics really, really well, and without a recipe. One of my favorites was her ‘Scarole soup – that’s Italian-American speak for “Escarole Soup” or, as it is often called in my family, Italian Wedding Soup.

When researching about the origins of Italian Wedding Soup I discovered that, duh, this is only loosely based on a traditional Italian soup called Minestra Maritata and has nothing to do with weddings (the name literally means a marriage of soup). Minestra Maritata is a Neapolitan soup made with greens and meat, hence the “marriage” of those two ingredients.

In my Italian-American fantasy, my great grandparents on my grandmom’s side came from Naples and brought their Minestra Maritata recipe with them to the new world. Over time, the pieces of meat became tiny meatballs and the greens were the cheap and delicious escarole. Too bad… I’ll never be able to ask my grandmom if my fantasy is true! There are many variations of this soup but, of course, I think Anna’s is the best. You could have this done from start to finish in about 1/2 hour.

ANNA’S ITALIAN WEDDING SOUP (AKA ‘SCAROLE)

Ingredients for Meatballs:

• 1/2 pound minced veal
• 1/2 pound minced pork
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
• 1/4 cup parmigiano reggiano
• pinch of garlic powder
• pinch of onion powder
• 2 tablespoons of parsley
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1/2 cup breadcrumbs (maybe more if mixture is too wet)
• salt and pepper

Other Ingredients:

• 8 to 10 cups of chicken stock
• 1/2 onion, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 head of escarole, bottom chopped off and greens cleaned (chop in half if you don’t like long greens)
• 2 eggs, beaten
• 3/4 cup parmigiano reggiano
• 1/2 box ditalini pasta (some people use pastina)

What to do:

1. To make meatballs: Add all the top ingredients together and mix with hands. Pinch a bit of the mixture and roll into a small ball. Each meatball should not be more than an inch wide.
2. Heat up a bit of olive oil in a heavy-bottomed pan and fry the baby meatballs on each side – about 3-4 minutes. Remove from pan and drain on some paper towels.
3. Meanwhile, in another pot, add a bit of oil and saute the onion and garlic for a few minutes until a bit softer. Add the chicken stock and keep at a simmer. Add the escarole.
4. Add the pasta, stir it around and allow to cook in the stock – keep aware of the time so you don’t cause the pasta to go mushy. About two minutes before the pasta is done, add the meatballs back to the pot.
5. Beat together the two eggs along with the parmigiano reggiano. When pasta is done, kill the heat and slowly add the egg/parmigiano mixture to the soup while stirring.
6. Serve in big bowls with some crusy bread and a glass of chianti.
7. Be aware that the pasta keeps soaking up the liquid after cooking, so this is a soup that needs to be eaten immediately. Alternatively, you could cook the pasta separately and add in as much of it as you want to, reserving some for leftovers so they aren’t soggy.

Check out some other posts you may enjoy:

• Chicken with Figs
• South African Hot Toddies
  
• Fried Lamb Chops with Balsamic Rosemary Reduction
• Italian Roasted Pork with Salsa Verde

One was a fabulous side dish we made that was our play on a typical tomato gratin. The difference in the way we made it and the way it is typically made is how we sliced the tomatoes. Most tomato gratin dishes use tomatoes just cut in half. We decided to thinly slice them which created a real concentrated tomato flavor with a nice crunchy and spicy top. It almost felt as though we were eating a form of pizza. The “sauce” (tomato slice) and the cheese (parmigiano) combined with the crunchy “dough” (breadcrumbs) was really nice in the mouth. What was only made for a side dish to some pork turned into the star of the show.

While tomato season is here, give this easy side dish a try. I’ll do my best w/ measurements, but remember, depending on how big your dish is, you may want to get creative with your own measurements. This recipe is just a guide.

THIN-SLICED TOMATO GRATIN (serves 4)

Ingredients:

• 1 glass oven ware dish (we used one that was 9×12)
• 4-5 large tomatoes, cut into 1/4 inch slices
• 6 cloves garlic, minced
• 6 leaves of basil, thinly sliced
• 1/4 cup parmigiano reggiano (plus extra for the breadcrumbs – see below)
• 1/4 cup olive oil
  
• For breadcrumb topping:
  • 1 cup of unseasoned breadcrumbs
  • 1/2 cup parmigiano reggiano or romano cheese
  • 1 1/2 teaspoon paprika/pimenton
  • 1 teaspoon oregano
  • 1 1/2 teaspoon peperoncino
  • 1 teaspoon dried basil
  • 1 teaspoon thyme (fresh or dried)
  • 1 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt (or to taste)

What to do:

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
2. Put a bit of olive oil in the bottom of your baking dish. Arrange your tomatoes flat down, side by side, in your dish. Sprinkle with some salt and pepper, the minced garlic and 1/4 cup of the parmigiano reggiano.
3. In a separate bowl, mix your breadcrumbs with all of the herbs, spices and the cheese. Mix. Sprinkle some of the dry mixture (before you add the olive oil) on to the top of the tomatoes (about 1/8 of a cup).
4. With a fork, blend in the olive oil with the remaining dry mixture. It will look kind of chunky. Sprinkle as much of this mixture on to the tomatoes as well. You may not use all of this – eyeball it. Top with some fresh basil.
5. Put in oven for 15 to 20 minutes, until top is brown and crusty and the tomatoes have shrunk a bit.

Check out some other posts you may enjoy:

• PHILADELPHIA SCRAPE-STYLE LEMON WATER ICE
• AUTHENTIC THIN-CRUST PIZZA
• TORTILLA SOUP
• FARINATA (LIGURIAN CHICKPEA FLATBREAD

By the way, if any of you are still reading this far, we were surprised by our family with a visit to FRENCH LAUNDRY for dinner.  We’ll be telling you all about it soon.

I feel like we go on and on ad nauseam about our trip to Italy last summer, and I suspect that if it hasn’t happened already, our faithful readers will begin to tire of our constant references to those halcyon days of pastoral bliss, romantic nuptials, and devastatingly good food. So, before your goodwill towards us is exhausted, I want to wring out the last of it with this post on the remarkable dish that is deep-fried lamb rib chops

Perhaps ironically (and this may extend your patience toward us), the only meal, or in this case, part of a meal, that I ate during that trip that was not first-class was the secundi course of the meal in Bologna that included the frankly phenomenal ragu bolognese my wife wrote about recently, namely the deep-fried lamb rib chops. Not that it was bad or even close to bad, it was actually pretty good, but they were slightly overcooked and therefore dry, something I am almost proud to say I could discern even during the intense examination of the final dregs of our third bottle of Barolo.

Crispy exteriors combined with unctious, moist interiors are the holy-grail of almost every fried, grilled or roasted meat dish, where the crispy outer layer insulates the flesh and keeps it moist. However, there is a very fine line between success and failure in these endeavors. Too far one way and you’ve got a crispy outside, but a dry and tough inside. Too far the other, and you’ve got a limp crust and a bloody interior. Lamb rib chops are the beautiful, tender pieces that correspond to the rib-eye (the rib attached to the tenderloin) on a steer, and are frequently served as a rack, medium-rare, with the bones nicely trimmed (Frenched) and often with a garlic & parsley breadcrumb crust that is rarely as crunchy as you want it to be, and I wanted to experiment whether deep-frying could provide the crunch as well as the medium-rareness I had tragically missed out on that night in Bologna.

Indeed, the stakes were further raised by the horrifically high price of lamb in the US. It took this transplanted Englishman a long while to get used to the scarcity of lamb in this country where beef is king (despite there being huge swathes of land that are eminently suitable for sheep-grazing), and the cost has kept us on a steady diet of braised shoulder chops, unable to branch out into the leg or the rack until a fortuitous wander into our local Pathmark store coincided with a virtual giveaway of perfectly Frenched rib chops. Seizing this opportunity with a vigor that may have shocked my wife, I loaded up our shopping cart (yes, the trolley) with rib chops and it was this bounty, as much as anything, that convinced me to try deep-frying them. After all, if it didn’t work and they turned out like hockey pucks, we could still broil or grill ourselves some dinner with the rest.

A little bit of luck, and I prevailed in this experiment and I’m delighted to say that these rib chops were as good as any I’ve eaten anywhere. Assuming you also have the good fortune of finding lamb rib chops at a reasonable price, you should not only grab an armful, but you should try this recipe right away. It would be the perfect thing to impress dinner guests with, and since the chops are fried and therefore quite rich, two per person will suffice, making you appear generous and feel thrifty at the same time. Joy.

Fried Lamb Rib-Chops with Grilled Polenta, Broccoli di Rape and Balsamic Reduction

So, before continuing, I should say that I shallow fried my chops instead of deep frying them as I was nervous about overcooking them. Shallow frying allows you to do the “poke-test” on them (poke the meat with your finger, if it feels soft, it’s rare or very rare, if it is firm, it’s well-done, you want it somewhere between. The trick is knowing when is enough.)

Ingredients (serves 2)

• 4-6 lamb rib chops, frenched
• 1 cup plain flour
• 1 cup panko, or very coarse fresh breadcrumbs
• 1 cup soda water/sparkling mineral water
• 1 tsp salt
• 2-3 cups vegetable oil
• 1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
• 1 clove garlic, smashed but with skin-on
• 1 sprig rosemary

Recipe

• Combine salt, water and flour in a mixing bowl into a batter of medium thickness.
• Put oil in a 10inch (20cm) diameter frying pan. Should be about 1/2inch (1cm) deep.
• Heat oil to around 350F (175C)
• dip chops in batter, then dredge in panko (breadcrumbs) and lay them gently in oil. Do not overcrowd pan. We did ours two at a time.
• Fry chops for about three minutes per side, or until slightly darker than golden brown on the outside.
• Use poke test to determine done-ness.
• Place in a warming oven (200F/95C) and allow to rest for five to ten minutes.
• Add balsamic vinegar, garlic and rosemary to your smallest saucepan.
• Over medium heat allow it to come to a boil. Reduce heat to about medium-low and allow to reduce by at least half.
• Keep your eye on it at this stage because it can very quickly go from a perfect consistency to a bitter-tasting molasses.
• Remove garlic and rosemary and serve sparingly over your lamb chops.

Check out these other posts you may enjoy:

• Truffled Butter: A Prince Among Ideas
• San Gennaro Festival, Little Italy, NYC – Ain’t What it Used to Be (Girl’s Version)
• Pork Roll and Scrapple – The Dirty Culinary Pride of South Jersey/Philly
• SHREDDED CHICKEN SOPES WITH TOMATILLO AVOCADO SAUCE
• GRILLED STEAK WITH TARRAGON GARLIC BUTTER
• CHESTNUT CUSTARD TART
• SPANISH (AUSTURIAN) OXTAIL WITH FRIED POTATOES

After our second full day of tasting we were all overwhelmed by the urge to continue our bacchanalia that evening with a four course dinner and more wine. Heated discussions were had over what should be on the menu and what we could reasonably cook given that we’d been drinking all day and the kitchen in our cabin was less than professional-grade. Finally, we decided that a variety of cold appetizers, including hummus, guacamole, crudite, and pita chips, would be an easy way to begin and might allow us to cook the rest of the meal without getting too drunk.

The second course was gnocchi with a combination of two Lidia Bastianich sauce recipes – one with breadcrumbs fried in butter, and the other with sage and brown butter. The sauce, of course, was about as easy as a sauce can be, but the process was lengthened by us making the gnocchi from scratch.

The third course was a delicious New York Strip steak served with a red wine jus and roasted red and golden beets. And all of this was topped off with a final cheese course of a California goat brie, a morbier and an honest hunk of manchego — naturally all washed down through purple lips with some more red wine.

Now, the point of this tale is not to wow our readers with how much we drink when we’re with Amy’s cousins, because we often surprise ourselves by that, but rather it is to demonstrate that you can make really, really good gnocchi di patate from scratch even when you’re half in the bag — though we recommend you make it when sober for the first time.

Here’s how to do it.

GNOCCHI DI PATATE (Serves 3 to 4)

Ingredients

- 3 large Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and cut into 2-3inch cubes/lumps

- 3 tablespoons kosher salt (2 tablespoons of table salt)

- 1 large egg

- Up to 2 cups plain white flour (depending on size of your potatoes)

- 1 large pot of boiling water or enough to boil the potatoes in and then the gnocchi.

Recipe:

1. Boil water and add two/one tablespoon of salt

2. Peel and chop potatoes, and boil them until they no longer stick to a knife-blade. Remove potatoes from water, but not discard it. Drain potatoes and let stand until cool enough to handle.

3. Use a food-mill, food processor or, better yet, the fine grater side of a box grater, to grate potatoes.

4. Spread grated potatoes out on a baking sheet and sprinkle with remaining salt to draw out some of the moisture. Leave for 20 minutes.

5. Sprinkle flour on a board and place grated potatoes on it. Make a well in the middle and crack egg into it. Add half a cup of flour and combine it all by hand.

6. Mixture should be quite sticky so continue adding flour and combining until it gets smoother. You’ll know it’s the right consistency when it stops being sticky and, if you cut into it, it resembles cookie dough. Don’t worry about getting it really smooth because the potatoes won’t combine perfectly with the flour, it’ll always have a kind of speckled look.

7. Cut dough into three or four lumps. Re-flour your board and hand roll each of the lumps into a long sausage, about the width of a large hot dog, I suppose. Then take your knife and cut the roll into inch-long lumps. These are your gnocchi.

8. Then take a fork and press/roll the gnocchi down the tines of the fork, making grooves to better hold the sauce.

9. Re-boil the water and cook gnocchi in batches. You know they’re done when they float to the surface.

10. Serve with your favorite sauce (Amy’s Tomato Sauce, Pistachio Sauce, Pesto or Brown Butter and Breadcrumbs – see below).

BROWN BUTTER AND FRESH BREADCRUMB SAUCE (from Lidia Bastianich)

Ingredients

• Unsalted Butter (about 1 stick)
• 6-8 Sage leaves
• 1 thick slice of bread – grated finely
• Salt and Pepper
• grated Parmigiano Reggiano

Recipe

1. Melt butter in saute pan on medium. When it begins to color, add your grated breadcrumbs. You will be crisping up your breadcrumbs, but watch your heat because you do not want to burn your butter.
2. After 1 1/2 minutes, add the sage. Allow to flavor the butter for another minute.
3. Season with salt and pepper. Toss sauce with your gnocchi. Plate and sprinkle with grated Parmigiano Reggiano. DELIZIOSO!

CHECK OUT SOME OTHER POSTS YOU MAY ENJOY:

• CHESTNUT CUSTARD TART
• BREAD-CRUSTED FISH WITH LEMON-BUTTER SAUCE
• LIDIA’S LAMB CHOPS (Lamb Chops with A Mustard Anchovy Sauce)
• LEBANESE-SPICED LAMB OVER CRISPY PITA WITH CHICKPEAS, PINENUTS, POMEGRANATE SEEDS SMOTHERED IN GARLIC YOGURT SAUCE
• LIVORNESE FISH STEW