Almost Italian

During the 1970′s and ’80′s, television cooking shows and glossy food magazines exponentially expanded America’s perception of Italian food. La Cucina Italiana-Americana literally unfurled its colors from red to white to green, like a giant tricolore.

Or, to put it another way: Americans seeking to “eat Italian” went from marinara to cream sauces to pesto in less than two decades.

Copyright © 2009, Skip Lombardi

We’ve written about the tomato-free pasta treatments that captured the attention of sophisticates because they were deemed to be “lighter.” Pastas in pale sauces were offered as northern Italian and seen as more subtle and refined than southern Italian pasta swimming in marinara.

By this time, a third generation of Italian-Americans were pushing out the boundaries of “traditional” dishes by inventing new ones as certain ingredients, such as imported cheeses and artisanal fresh pasta, became easier to find.

Alfredo Viazzi—while not the Alfredo, the one who originated the dish in 1917—certainly rode the “white sauce” wave. During the ’70′s, Viazzi could barely keep up with the orders for his own interpretation of Fettuccine Alfredo, served at his Greenwich Village trattoria, da Alfredo. (We hasten to clarify that pasta Alfredo does NOT consist of pasta and a separate sauce. Rather, the dish is simply hot pasta tossed with abundant butter and Parmesan, just before serving. Nonetheless, this has not kept dozens of food manufacturers from the transgression of offering various comestibles, including pizza, with “Alfredo sauce.”)

Some Italian-American inventions sprang from the plentiful availability of prepped components. Boneless chicken breasts and frozen broccoli were inexpensive and available year ’round—a boon for restaurateurs striving to consistently offer favorite dishes. And chicken breasts had the added attraction of their light color. It wasn’t long before Chicken, Ziti and Broccoli, like a distant cousin claiming kinship, managed to find its way onto menus in red sauce joints across the country.

Chicken Caesar Salad could be found in the Italian “continental” restaurant with valet parking and a maitre d’ as well as in the smallest strip-mall luncheonette with checked vinyl tablecloths. In just a few years, this salad was considered an “old Italian favorite” despite the fact that most pre-WWI immigrants had never tasted chicken back in Italy.

Meanwhile by 1980, Americans had discovered pesto… The tricolore was complete and waving across North America.

Our first recollection of this seductive substance goes back to 1973 when we saw the late Franco and Margaret Romagnoli prepare Pesto alla Genovese on The Romagnolis’ Table, their PBS television program. Franco followed tradition and made it with a mortar and pestle, while Margaret demonstrated the wonders of that revolutionary new kitchen device, the “food processor…”

But basil pesto, a specialty of Liguria, though delicious and easily made, didn’t secure its place on Italian-American menus immediately. It was simply a question of supply: very few American farmers were cultivating basil as a crop in the ’70′s. A medium-sized restaurant kitchen would have required a bushel or more of fresh basil daily in order to add linguine al pesto to the menu. But once farmers realized they had a market, basil, the pot-herb that had delicately scented a century of Italian-American cooking, was seen as a green whose production could be measured in acreage. Production caught up with demand, and basil pesto stepped up to take its place alongside marinara.

Before the commercial growers in California, Arizona, and New Mexico had established basil production on a large scale, there was a period of green sauces that were not so basil-dependent. Creative substitutions proliferated; newspapers and magazines were filled with tricks for extending that little bit of basil from one’s windowbox herb garden and for making parsley and frozen spinach pesto (which is simply Italian for “something which has been pounded,” usually with a mortar and pestle). Our focus here is on pesto made with basil.

Given chicken’s prominence on Italian-American menus and the long-standing custom of most red sauce joints to serve “pasta on the side,” it was logical that the side dish would one day come with pesto. Once they had a reliable supply of basil, cooks could apply pesto to a variety of foods that had never before been thus anointed. The combination of chicken with pasta al pesto was simply waiting to happen.

The most common restaurant preparation involves sautéed chicken breasts. However, we prefer the deeper flavor of dark meat that has been grilled. Our recipe gains its depth from grilled chicken thighs, which, not incidentally, are cheaper than breasts and easier to grill and bone.

If you’re inaugurating your grill this Memorial Day, it is worth grilling extra chicken pieces just to make this dish in the days following the holiday weekend. With little effort, you’ll have completed the first step for an over-the-top dish that has earned its place in the Italian-American repertoire.

For the pesto itself: Ligurians use walnuts and/or pine-nuts and Pecorino Romano, not Parmesan. There is no standard recipe—not in Italy, nor among Americans. With a little thought, a wonderful condiment can be achieved using what’s available. (One of us likes to use roasted sunflower seeds in place of the walnuts.) Sine qua non for this neo-classic are copious amounts of fresh green basil leaves.

Ingredients:

4-6 Grilled chicken thighs (skin left on)

3/4 Cup walnuts, pecans, or raw sunflower seeds
2 — 3 Medium-sized cloves garlic, peeled
3 Cups fresh basil leaves, loosely packed
4 — 5 Tbs. Extra-virgin olive oil
1 Cup freshly grated Parmesan or Pecorino Romano
Salt & freshly ground black pepper

Hot pasta water, at least 1 cup, reserved

2 – 3 Tbs. Whole pignoli (pine nuts) for garnish (optional)

1 Lb. pasta. We paired the chicken with farfalle (bow-ties). Fettuccine or linguine also work well.

Preparation:

Heat a toaster oven to 325 F. Spread the raw shelled nuts or sunflower seeds on a sheet of foil or tray in the toaster oven, or dry roast them in a pan over medium heat on the stove. Stir occasionally and watch them constantly, as they burn easily. Roast until they are lightly browned and fragrant (7-10 minutes). If you are using the pignoli, repeat steps separately, as pignoli toast more quickly. Remove all toasted nuts and seeds from the heat and set aside to cool. Reserve any pignoli for garnish.

In a food processor fitted with the metal blade, chop the garlic. Add the cooled nuts and pulse to chop. Add a handful of basil and pulse, repeating until you have chopped it all. With a spatula, scrape down the sides of the processor. Add half the grated cheese and black pepper. Pulse for approximately 1 second, two or three times.

With the motor running, slowly pour 2 — 3 Tbsp of the oil through the feed-tube into the swirling pesto. Stop the motor, scrape down the sides, and taste for salt.

Meanwhile, slice the grilled chicken into pieces no larger than 1″ x 2″ and set aside

Bring a large pot of salted water to the boil and cook 1 lb of pasta until al dente. Drain and reserve at least a cup of the starchy cooking water at the bottom of the pot.

In a bowl large enough to hold all the pasta (or the empty cooking pot itself), spread 1 Tbsp of olive oil, 2 Tbsp of the pesto and 2 Tbsp of the hot pasta water to coat the bottom of the bowl. Add the hot, drained pasta and chicken slices to the bowl.

With two wooden spoons or tongs, gently turn the pasta in the bowl, adding the rest of the pesto gradually so it does not clump. Add about 1/4 cup of the pasta water to the food processor to rinse down the sides and pour that into the pasta Gently turn over the pasta until it is evenly coated with pesto.

Divide into four shallow bowls and sprinkle with the remaining cheese. Garnish each serving with a few toasted pignoli.

Serves four.

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