Time is running out! Ready or not, frost is soon going to zap all the tender plants in local gardens, including mine. If I put off harvesting much longer, the last of my basil and nasturtiums will lie limp and lifeless, as will the last tomato plants in my friend’s yard.
For me, this is always a pitiful, guilt-producing sight, a vivid visual reminder that here in Maryland gardeners who procrastinate will be punished for it. If the tender herbs and produce in your yard aren’t already frizzled from the cold, perhaps you’ll want to take heed, too. Wouldn't it be a shame for such goodies to go to waste?
I already took a few precautions and
oven-dried a generous batch of sweet, vine-ripened tomatoes several weeks ago. Today, I snipped most of the last sprigs of green and purple basil in the yard and paired them with some of my stash of dried tomatoes, plus a squiggly-looking pasta brought back from Italy, a few kalamata olives, and a little fresh mozzarella to create a quick lunch. Since the weather is on the chilly side for salads now, I tossed everything together as soon as the pasta was well drained. The heat of it began to melt the bits of cheese and caused the herbs to exude their fragrance—what a spectacular if quick and humble lunch!
The thin, eggless twists of trophie pasta have been turning up more often in the U.S. the past few years, usually dressed with basil pesto. My Italian cookbook author friend Domenica Marchetti says in The Glorious Pastas of Italy (a beautiful, well-written and useful book, by the way) that it is normally hand-rolled and is a specialty of Liguria. (I bought my bag from a shop in Sorrento that was crammed with every conceivable shape, size, and color. Choosing only a few kinds from the seductive eye-catching assortment tempting me was painful!)
I’ve promised myself that this afternoon, I’ll run out and snip the last of the basil and either tuck the sprigs into bottles of wine vinegar or white rice vinegar, or cover the chopped leaves with water in ice cube trays and freeze them. (The nasturtiums will all go into bottles of vinegar; see the
recipe here.) Once the herb cubes are sealed in baggies, they’ll be ready to pop into soups and stews for an instant hit of (almost) fresh basil all winter long. Well, this is the
plan for later today anyway!
Warm Pasta Salad with Oven-Dried Tomatoes
The impromptu dressing for this salad is unusual in featuring a secret ingredient—the brine drained from the kalamata olives called for in the dish. Normally the brine from bottled olives is salty enough that little or no additional salt is needed. More important, the brine has—we shouldn’t be surprised!—a pleasing olive flavor that marries perfectly with the oil.
Not only tasty but thrifty and convenient, olive brine makes a fabulous substitute for vinegar when there’s none on hand. Which is how I came to try it in a dressing in the first place! Now, I tend to use up all the brine before finishing the olives and always wish they came packed with more.
3 cups freshly cooked (al dente) and drained trophie or other thin, short pasta lengths
2 or 3 medium-sized oven-dried tomatoes, chopped (or substitute 1/3 cup chopped bottled sun-dried tomatoes)
1/4 cup cubed fresh mozzarella
3 to 4 tablespoons coarsely chopped pitted black kalamata olives
1/2 cup chopped green or purple basil leaves (or a combination), divided, plus several whole leaves for garnish if desired
3 to 4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3 to 4 tablespoons kalamata olive brine
1/4 teaspoon black pepper, or more to taste
1/8 teaspoon sea salt, optional, for garnish
2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives or parsley (or a combination) for garnish
In a medium-sized serving bowl, toss together the still warm drained pasta, the tomatoes, mozzarella, olives and half the basil until just mixed.
In a small deep bowl, whisk together the oil, olive brine, half the basil, and the pepper until blended. Pour over the pasta mixture, and toss until the pasta is coated. Sprinkle over the chives (or parsley), then toss lightly to partially mix. If desired, garnish with coarse salt, a few grinds of pepper, and several whole basil leaves
Makes 2 main dish servings.
Are you one of those people who thinks that even though gnarly, twisted gourds can make colorful Halloween centerpieces and cutesy bird houses, they are basically pretty weird? I always dismissed these peculiar bulbous fruits (yup, botanically they are fruits) as fairly useless garden oddities.
