The stories take place in Sicily (yes, there's Mafia, but the plots rarely center just on Mafia crimes). Inspector Salvo Montalbano works in the police department in a tiny fictional seaside town and lives alone in a delightful little home right on the beach in an even smaller town just a few miles from the station. He is single, but has a steady girlfriend he loves to argue with who lives in Northern Italy. Lots of phone calls but some visits, too.
One thing that really drew me to Montalbano is that he's passionate about food. Most days, he leaves the office for lunch at Enzo's Trattoria and completely stuffs himself. He then takes a stroll along a jetty at the waterfront and often sits for a while on the rocks to contemplate the current case and maybe toss pebbles at a crab. Most days, he eats alone. His passion about food is such that he really doesn't want to be involved in conversation while eating. That's just too distracting.
He gets home very late in the evening most nights. His housekeeper, Adelina, leaves his dinner in the refrigerator or the oven. She's an outstanding cook, and he's often overjoyed when he finds what she has prepared for him.
The one dish that excites him most often, and makes many return visits especially in the later books in the series, is pasta 'ncasciata. The dish is a casserole with pasta, eggplant and cheese. Sadly, the main cheese is fresh caciocavallo. That's not a cheese I have access to, but it is a relative of mozzarella, so I went with fresh mozzarella.
I had set a goal of making some pasta 'ncasciata before finishing the series. In fact, I also became curious about whether folks had tried to cook some of the most prominent dishes Montalbano experiences and raves about in the series. Yes, it turns out that some people do. I settled on this recipe for pasta 'ncasciata as written and described by Diane Darrow. This was actually her second attempt at the dish. Her first one, which she wrote up several years prior, was much less successful for her. She used a mix of aged caciocavallo cheese and mozzarella, where, as I described above, I went with fresh mozz. She used a pint of her "light tomato sauce" so I improvised with canned chopped fire roasted tomatoes, fresh basil and some spicy vegetable broth. I adjusted her amounts a bit here and there based on what I had on hand and personal preference.
Ingredients
1-2 lb eggplant, sliced
olive oil for frying
Meat sauce
1/2 pound lean ground beef (I used .67 pound because that was the package I found)
2 cloves garlic
1/4 tsp Flatiron Pepper Co four pepper blend
1 15 oz can fire roasted chopped tomatoes
3/4 cup spicy vegetable broth
1 oz red wine
Handful of fresh basil leaves, chopped
Salt and pepper to taste
Other casserole ingredients
2 hard-boiled eggs, sliced
2.5 oz hot soppressata (dry salame) cut into small cubes
8 oz fresh mozzarella, torn to small bits
3.5 oz grated Pecorino Romano
1 lb pasta, cooked just short of al dente
Method
Slice the eggplant. If you want, apply kosher salt liberally and place the slices in a colander with a bit of weight on top to remove excess water. Allow to sit 45 minutes, then rinse off salt and pat dry. Fry the eggplant in a thin layer of hot olive oil until golden, turning to get both sides. Drain on paper towels.
Heat saute pan with olive oil and put in garlic and pepper flakes until fragrant. Add ground beef and cook until browned. Deglaze with the canned tomatoes. Add wine, vegetable broth and salt and pepper to taste. Simmer 25 minutes until thickened.
Cook the pasta in boiling salted water until not quite al dente. Here's my favorite imported Italian pasta that I used:
And here's the spicy vegetable broth. I just discovered it at my local grocery this week.
To assemble the casserole (I used my new Misen 6 qt Rondeau--a spectacular vessel for cooking and serving!), layer half the pasta on the bottom, then most of the meat sauce, the eggplant slices, some of the mozzarella and pecorino, then the rest of the pasta, mozzarella, egg slices, the soppressata, the last of the meat sauce and then the last of the cheeses.
Here we are part way through assembling:
Bake at 425 for 25 minutes. I don't think I deserved how beautiful this was when it came out of the oven:
I now feel an even stronger bond with Montalbano. This is a very soothing dish that I intend to use as a way to wow guests in the future. Especially in that stunning pan. Here's a wider shot:
Anyway, at least for tonight, you can just call me Adelina, because I think I turned out a dish she would leave in the oven for Salvo.
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