Ancient Grains for Modern Meals - Maria Speck [87]
Today’s whole wheat pasta has little in common with its harsh-tasting predecessors from the 1970s and 1980s. Be sure to eat your way through different whole grain pasta brands, be they made of whole wheat, Kamut, farro, spelt, or brown rice. Texture and flavor vary greatly from brand to brand, and there are many new varieties on the market. So take your cue from the Italians, who for centuries have enjoyed pasta made from whole grains such as farro and buckwheat. Perhaps you might even detect a hint of cinnamon in farro pasta. Sometimes I swear I do.
MY LIFE WITH TWO GRAIN MILLS
Farmers’ Market Pasta with Heirloom Tomatoes, Rosemary, and Basil
Fettuccine with Salmon, Tomatoes, and Golden Raisins
Spaghetti with Radicchio, Caramelized Shallots, and Bacon
Rustic Linguine with Summer Herbs and Olives
Spicy Spaghetti with Caramelized Onions, Anchovies, and Tuna
Creamy Rotelle with Basil Yogurt and Mozzarella
Spaghetti with Roasted Chestnuts, Hazelnuts, and Sage
Homemade Spelt Fettuccine
Conchiglie with Lamb and Minted Yogurt
FARRO: ANCIENT AND AMBROSIAL
My Life with Two Grain Mills
All my life I have prided myself on having a fairly low-tech, European-inspired kitchen—without much clutter, that is. No fancy stand mixers, table-top grills, or pressure cookers; they only compete for valuable counter space. I love working with my hands in the kitchen. I blend eggplant and cheeses using a fork for Greek appetizers. I chop onions and carrots for salad, and I freshly grind Indian spices in a mortar with a pestle. Most of all, I love kneading dough. I even treasure working by hand the unforgivably dense whole rye sourdough we crave in Germany. What if it tires me out? I don’t need to go to the gym, for one, and I get to eat my own oven-fresh bread. In my stubbornness, I resemble my East African–Indian mother-in-law. To this day, she routinely cooks for thirty, slaving in her kitchen for hours, chopping vegetables, meats, and fish with small beaten-up knives and a ridiculously tiny onion chopper. My husband and I offered to buy her a “proper” food processor, but she refused. And we know better than to go over her head.
I admit I have lied a little about my kitchen—because there is one very fancy kitchen tool I do possess. And it is neither low-tech nor small: I own an attractive and sizable German grain mill. In fact, I own two such decadent objects, one on each side of the Atlantic, as I divide my time between the United States and Germany.
And I admit to more: a secret milling obsession. Almost since the time I started using whole grains in my kitchen more than twenty years ago, I have owned a mill. Why such a lavish expense, not to mention the shrunken work space? Because home-ground flour is sublime. It adds a new dimension to the characteristic aromas of whole grains. As a food writer and cooking instructor, I often use store-bought flour to make sure recipes are replicable with perfect results. But sometimes on a weekend, when I power up my mill and bake for pure pleasure, my husband and I will inhale a bite of a scone and wonder, “Wow, why do these taste so different today?” So sweet, so intensely flavorful?
Similar to fruits and vegetables, whole grain flours are most rewarding at their freshest. They are ravishing when used right after grinding. Their rich spell can be lost within hours. And there is more: a grain mill allows you to create layers of texture and flavor in breads, muffins, cookies, pancakes, and more. I use fine pastry flour for delicate cupcakes and coarse rye meal for an intensely satisfying bread. Sometimes, I grind a third of the flour for a bread loaf into coarse rye for its texture and hearty aroma, and churn out the rest as more finely milled whole wheat to help it rise to perfection. At dinner, freshly ground corn makes for polenta heaven, and delicate dumplings from millet spruce