The Usual

I don't often watch movies twice, and I rarely reread books. There's just always something new out there in storyland, and the comfort of the familiar can't compete with the allure of the unknown. Not so when it comes to cooking, however. In the kitchen, I am a repeat offender in a big way.


It's always been this way. I cringe now to think of the lunch I ate every day in high school: a sesame bagel with cream cheese, a Snickers, and a Mistic sparkling juice. Then, there was the family joke (deserved but, thankfully, now put to rest) about my ordering ravioli at every restaurant we went to. Even now, I get into years-long breakfast routines. In the late '00s, it was Cheerios mixed with Grape Nuts. 2011 brought in yogurt topped with fruit, nuts, and honey. It will take me several equinoxes to get tired of this. If we happen to run out of an element of the "it" breakfast and I can't get to the store before the next morning, I feel bereft.


Am I the only one who enjoys routine when it comes to food? I suspect not. Despite the seemingly limitless options available to us nowadays, I think there is something in our DNA that makes us crave repetition at the table. And it makes perfect Darwinian sense that the repeaters would prevail over the novelty-seekers when it comes to cooking. First, food takes time to prepare, so if you're going to go to the trouble of cooking, it's nice to know that you're going to like the fruit of your labor. Second, practice with a particular dish makes it quicker to fix and more likely to come out well. Trying something new every day, one could easily starve and/or become very grumpy, both of which are bad for species perpetuation.

Might I also suggest that there's a less tangible, but perhaps more essential, reason why we eat the same foods over and over again? Meals are rituals. There is security in coming to the table three times a day. Often, meals are a chance to connect with loved ones. Other times, they are a quiet refuge from the day's commotion. Commonplace? Yes. Mundane? No. There is a lot wrapped up in breakfast, lunch, and dinner, whether we speed through them to get to something else or linger at the table just a little while longer.


It makes sense, then, for us to share the recipes that we keep in our stables--for a trusted friend to say, "Look, it will be okay if you make this. Your sacred ritual will not be violated. In fact, it will be enhanced in a most flavorful way." Because even rituals benefit from a little shaking up from time to time. (As long as nobody takes the last of my yogurt.)

And so, from my stable to yours, I present: Torta di Pasta. Enjoy!

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Torta di Pasta
I came across this recipe in a Giada De Laurentiis article years ago in the Washington Post. The torta (literally, cake) is kind of like a frittata but with pasta instead of potatoes. I've adapted the recipe slightly. I like to put coarsely chopped prosciutto or ham in ours, but you can really use any filling you like. Roasted red peppers or roasted asparagus would be lovely in place of (or in addition to) the sun-dried tomatoes. Dabs of ricotta or goat cheese would be divine. I have yet to try using other types of pasta, but I don't seen why it wouldn't work. You can serve the torta warm or at room temperature, and it makes wonderful leftovers. It's delicious accompanied by slightly bitter greens like arugula or broccoli.
>Serves 4

8 oz dried spaghetti or linguine
1/2 cup drained, oil-packed sun-dried tomatoes, chopped
handful of coarsely chopped prosciutto or ham (0ptional)
4 eggs
3/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
3/4 cup grated Fontina, Asiago, or other mild cheese
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp olive oil

Cook the pasta in a large pot of boiling water (about 8 minutes). Drain, and place in a large bowl with the chopped sun-dried tomatoes and prosciutto, if using. In a medium bowl, use a fork to whisk the eggs, cheeses, salt, and pepper. Set a medium oven-proof skillet (preferably not straight-sided) over medium heat on the stove, and preheat the broiler. Once the pasta has cooled down a bit (so that the eggs don't cook), pour the egg mixture into the pasta mixture, and stir until everything is combined. (Tip: I know this is un-Italian, but I take a few swipes at the pasta with a chef's knife so that it's easier to blend it with the other ingredients.) Heat the butter and olive oil in the skillet. Transfer the pasta/egg mixture to the skillet and cook for about 3 minutes, until the eggs begin to set. While the mixture is cooking, preheat the broiler. Transfer the skillet to the oven and broil for 3 to 5 minutes longer, checking frequently, until the top is golden brown. Carefully remove the skillet from the oven and let the torta cool in the pan for at least 10 minutes (can be made well ahead of time, though). If you like, invert it onto a platter. We usually just cut wedges out of the pan and eat it right-side-up.