Doing the Spinach Ricotta Twist
When I found myself hovering over the kitchen sink, elbow-deep in homemade ricotta, I knew something fundamentally had changed. For starters, I’m not even a cheese person.
Most of my foodie friends are cheese snobs; they tsk-tsk my aversion to the fermented nectar. I like it as an accent, I explain, not a main ingredient. As for ricotta, until now, I knew it mainly as lasagna glue. Yet here I stare wantonly at two pounds of warm, lemon-scented white cheese I have made myself.
The genesis of my cheese evolution occurred two years earlier, with a first bite of spinach ricotta pasta at the Masseria degli Ulivi outside Noto, on the Italian island of Sicily. As travel writing teacher to undergraduates at UMass Amherst, I toured the island every March break. This was our group’s first time at the Masseria, a quiet resort set amid olive groves. Though our stay was pre-season (i.e., beautiful swimming pool devoid of water) the accommodations were spot-on. The Masseria is an agriturismo, catering to agricultural tourists. Agriturismi are growing in number, offering a rare bright star on the constellation of the downtrodden Sicilian economy. Without ever having laid eyes on the place, we pinned the Masseria on our itinerary for a two-night stay including a day-long retreat for our writers, photographers, and artists.
After hours on the road, we exited our tour bus to experience love at first sight. Encircled by gnarled olive trees and pink stucco buildings, our rooms were awash in white linens and sunlight. We artists unfurled, turning faces to the sun. The students wrote, made images, painted, and napped. There was even wifi in the bar, so homesick lovers were able to face-time back to America. Given the inspiring surroundings, it wasn’t a surprise when we had to break up a small room party later that night. The masseria is the kind of place that makes you want to celebrate being alive.
The adults were just as entranced with place, pleased with ourselves for discovering this gem, even more so when we tasted the food… best of the trip! We loaded our forks with timbales of garlicky mustard-greens and petite roasted sausages and truly new new potatoes. There were custards and fresh fruit, yeasty breads and the Masseria’s own extra virgin olive oil. We held an oil-tasting in the sunny courtyard. We devoured risotto studded with local wild asparagus. The house red wine was 100 percent nero d’avolo grapes, and 100 percent delicious. Its name is Filinona, the Sicilian word for the hottest hours of the summer, when all is quiet and at rest, except the sun, performing the miracle of ripening the grapes—our spirit wine if there ever was one.
One of our lunches featured spinach ricotta pasta. It was creamy and light, velvety spinach whirled around al dente semolina pasta twists. It was topped with crushed walnuts and swirls of deep green olive oil. After a single bite I vowed I would try making it at home. I closed my eyes and tried to memorize the flavors and ingredients.
My first attempt was for my writers. I held one of the remaining classes at my house. I made the spinach pasta plus a traditional fish-roe infused tomato pasta, and sausages. We had been back in the states for three weeks, and needed a serious dose of Sicily, so we ate heartily declaring the meal lifesaving. Silently, I realized I had a long way to go, recipe-wise.
I tinkered with the dish four or five more times through summer and fall. I changed amounts of ingredients. I tried fresh, boiled, and sautéed spinach. I tried adding all the nuts at the end. I made an executive decision that it needed mushrooms. The dish always received rave reviews and inquiries for seconds, sometimes thirds. Leftovers made for tasty lunches. Still, I knew something was missing. A certain tang. I thought of the fresh ricotta we had sampled on a mountaintop in Sicily, served by the maker himself, while his sheep lolled in the field below. Soon after, I saw a recipe for making homemade ricotta cheese in a magazine. The universe was telling me something.
Making ricotta is surprisingly easy. Even so, I didn’t get the measurements right. Luckily, the cheese I made was ideal for my recipe. Once I had my hands, literally, on (okay, in) the right cheese, I wasted no time. I sautéed mushrooms and spinach and put water on to boil. I crushed walnuts. I uncorked my good Sicilian oil that had come home in my suitcase. The result was better than the memory of what I had first encountered.
When we returned the following year to the beautiful Masseria, we were again thankful to be alive, and felt restored by its food and scenery. The kitchen served the signature spinach ricotta pasta. It was fresh and local and full of nutrients… yet seemed just a tad bland.
Maybe that’s how it should be with food memories we try to replicate. They become more vivid in the re-making.
Agriturismo: a combination of the words for “agriculture” and “tourism” in Italian, it refers to a style of vacationing in farmhouse resorts codified into Italian law in 1985. Agriturismi (the plural form of agriturismo) usually serve foods to guests prepared from food produced on the farm or nearby. Some hosts allow guests to participate in farm chores. Given the rural nature of the lodging, one might expect a rustic experience; yet many agriturismi feature luxurious accommodation as well as swimming pools.
GO: Masseria degli Ulivi. Rooms from $135. http://www.masseriadegliulivi.com/en
Spinach Ricotta Twist
4 cups shredded fresh spinach chiffonade
2 cups mushrooms, sliced
16 ounces fresh ricotta (recipe)
4 T butter
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
½ cup macerated walnuts
¼ cup fresh grated Parmagianno Reggiano cheese
Salt and pepper to taste
One pound twisty pasta (gemelli, spirals, etc)
Sauté spinach and mushrooms in butter and half the oil until tender. Boil pasta al dente, drain, and return to pasta pot. Toss thoroughly with spinach, mushrooms and ricotta cheese, and most of the nuts, season with salt and pepper. If desired, warm pot over low heat for two minutes whilst mixing. Spoon servings into wide bowls. Sprinkle with grated Parmigianino cheese and extra nuts, and drizzle with olive oil.
Serves 6-8.
Homemade Ricotta Cheese
1 quart heavy cream
1 quart two percent milk
Juice of two lemons
1 T rice wine vinegar (or other light-colored vinegar)
1 T kosher salt
1. Line a fine mesh strainer with cheesecloth and set over a large bowl. Set aside.
2. Place milk and cream in a heavy-bottomed large saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally.
3. Add lemon juice and vinegar and reduce heat. Simmer until mixture curdles, 5-7 minutes.
4. When mixture is separated, drain slowly through cheesecloth covered strainer.
5. After draining for 10 minutes, add salt and stir. Allow to drain for 10 more minutes and discard any extra liquid.
