This creamy, cheesy salmon and spinach fettucine bake is as simple as it is tasty and guaranteed to be your new family favourite.
Serves 4 Prep – 10 Min Cook – 55 Min Total – 1 Hr 5 Min
Ingredients 185 gram tagliatelle or fettucine 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 onion, finely chopped 2 garlic cloves, crushed 1 bunch English spinach, trimmed, coarsely chopped 415 gram can pink or red salmon, drained, flaked (or two or three salmon fillets, cooked) 3/4 cup thickened cream 1 lemon, zested and juiced 1/2 teaspoon chilli flakes 1 1/2 cup grated tasty cheese 1/4 cup grated parmesan green salad leaves, to serve
Method
Preheat oven to 200°C. Lightly grease a 2-litre ovenproof dish.
Cook pasta in a large pan of boiling salted water for 10-12 minutes until just tender. Drain.
Heat oil in a large frying pan on high. Sauté onion and garlic for 2-3 minutes until tender. Add spinach. Cook, stirring, for 2-3 minutes until wilted.
In a bowl, combine spinach mixture, pasta, salmon, cream, zest, juice and chilli flakes. Combine cheeses in a bowl and add half to salmon mixture.
Spoon salmon mixture into prepared dish. Sprinkle evenly with remaining cheese.
Bake for 30-35 minutes until golden and bubbly. Serve with green salad leaves.
Hmm. It’s been a tolerably decent week. Intermittent sunny skies although still very chilly with a biting cold north wind. The garden is slowly starting to wake up and Ms Playchute has spent many a happy moment outdoors when the rain is absent. She’s also enjoyed a number of fine walks with family and friends, i.e., not with me!
An old country boy with a bucket full of live fish was approached by a Game Warden.
The Game Warden asked the man, “May I see your fishing licence, please?”
“No, sir. Don’t need one. These here are my pet fish.”
“Pet fish?” the Game Warden barked.
“Yep, once a week, I bring these here fish o’mine down to the lake and let ‘em swim ‘round for a while. Then, when I whistle, they swim right back into my net and I take ‘em home.”
“HOGWASH! You’re under arrest.”
He said, “It’s the truth. I’ll show ya! We do this all the time!!”
“We do, now, do we?” smirked the warden. “PROVE it!”
He released the fish into the lake and stood and waited. After a few minutes, the warden said, “Well?”
“Well, what?
The warden asked, “When are you going to call them back?”
The weather, you will be surprised to know, has been very variable – sunny spells, sudden downpours – April showers and all that. Similarly, my sciatic pain has also been variable this week – peaks and troughs now replaced with good progress & less discomfort followed by a step or two backwards. Still, the overall trend is continuing in the right direction so keep those fingers crossed.
The mantra for this Eggplant Parmesan recipe should be: “Good things take time.” Trust us. Your efforts will be rewarded the moment you pull this dish of breaded eggplant slathered in tangy tomato sauce with a crispy, cheesy top from the oven. Need some reassurance? One commenter proclaims: “This was by far the best eggplant dish I ever made.”
You can break the work into chunks over a couple of days. The homemade marinara sauce makes all the difference, so don’t swap it out for store-bought. This one is rich with tomato, wine, tons of garlic, and anchovies (the secret to everything) and can be made up to two days ahead; the flavours might even be better after a day of mingling. As for the fried eggplant and herby panko breadcrumb mixture? Hold off making those until the day you plan to layer it all together. Making them fresh will help keep the herbs vibrant. (The whole dish can be assembled and cooked two days before you want to dig in—make room for the casserole dish in the fridge and reheat when ready.)
If you’re striving to serve this eggplant Parmesan as perfect blocks with some structural integrity (like the picture above), let it rest at room temperature for at least 30 minutes after baking. No garnish is necessary, but fresh basil is always welcome. Pair it with a simple side dish like a green salad with more shavings of Parmesan cheese and call it dinner
Ingredients
12 servings
MARINARA
¼ cup olive oil 1 head of garlic, cloves crushed 1 large red onion, chopped 3 oil-packed anchovy fillets (optional) ½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes 1 Tbsp. tomato paste ¼ cup dry white wine 2 28-oz. cans whole peeled tomatoes ¼ cup torn basil leaves ½ tsp. dried oregano Kosher salt
EGGPLANT AND ASSEMBLY
4 pounds Italian eggplants (about 4 medium eggplants), peeled, sliced lengthwise ½–¾ inch thick Kosher salt 3 cups panko (Japanese breadcrumbs) 1½ tsp. dried oregano 1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper 1½ cups finely grated Parmesan, divided 1½ cups all-purpose flour 5 large eggs, beaten to blend 1⅓ cups olive oil ½ cup finely chopped basil and parsley, plus basil leaves for serving 6 ounces low-moisture mozzarella, grated (about 1⅓ cups) 8 ounces fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced
Preparation
MARINARA
Step 1 Preheat oven to 350°. Place a Dutch oven or other large heavy ovenproof pot over medium heat. Add oil and garlic and cook, stirring often, until garlic is golden, about 4 minutes. Add onion, anchovies (if using), and red pepper flakes and cook, stirring often, until onion is translucent, about 5 minutes. Stir in tomato paste and cook, stirring often, until slightly darkened, about 2 minutes. Add wine, bring to a boil, and cook until almost completely evaporated, about 1 minute. Add tomatoes, breaking up with your hands, and their juices; add basil and oregano and stir to combine. Swirl 1½ cups water into one tomato can, then the other, to rinse, and add to pot; season with salt. Transfer pot to oven; roast sauce, stirring halfway through, until thick and tomatoes are browned on top and around edges of pot, 2–2½ hours.
Step 2 Let sauce cool slightly. Pass through the large holes of a food mill or process in a food processor until mostly smooth. Taste and season with salt.
Do Ahead: Sauce can be made 2 days ahead. Cover and chill.
EGGPLANT AND ASSEMBLY
Step 3 Lightly season eggplant slices all over with salt; place in a single layer on several layers of paper towels inside a rimmed baking sheet. Top with another layer of paper towels and more slices; repeat as needed. Top with a final layer of paper towels, then another rimmed baking sheet; weigh down with a heavy pot. Let eggplant sit until it has released excess liquid, 45–60 minutes. This step gives the eggplant a creamy texture when baked.
Step 4 Meanwhile, pulse panko, oregano, pepper, and ¾ cup Parmesan in a food processor until very finely ground. Transfer to a shallow bowl.
Step 5 Preheat oven to 350°. Place flour in another shallow bowl and eggs in a third shallow bowl. Working one at a time, dredge eggplant slices in flour, then dip in egg, allowing excess to drip off. Coat in breadcrumbs, packing all around, then shaking off excess. Place on wire racks.
Step 6 Heat ⅔ cup oil in a large skillet, preferably cast iron, over medium-high. Cook as many eggplant slices as will comfortably fit in pan, turning once, until deep golden, about 5 minutes. Transfer to paper towels and immediately press with more paper towel to absorb oil. Working in batches, repeat with remaining eggplant, adding remaining ⅔ cup oil and wiping out skillet as needed. Let cool. Taste and season with more salt if needed.
Step 7 Toss chopped herbs, low-moisture mozzarella, and remaining ¾ cup Parmesan in a medium bowl. Spread 1 cup sauce over the bottom of a 13×9″ baking pan; top with a layer of eggplant slices (trim as needed). Drizzle 1 cup sauce over and sprinkle with one-third of cheese mixture. Add another layer of eggplant, followed by 1 cup sauce and half of remaining cheese mixture. Repeat layers with remaining slices, sauce, and cheese mixture. Cover with foil and bake on a rimmed baking sheet until eggplant is custardy, 45–60 minutes.
Step 8 Remove from oven and arrange fresh mozzarella over eggplant. Increase oven temperature to 425° and bake, uncovered, until cheese is bubbling and browned in spots, 15–20 minutes longer. Let rest 30 minutes. Top with basil leaves just before slicing.
Do Ahead: Eggplant Parmesan can be made 2 days ahead. Let cool; cover with foil and chill. Reheat in a 350° oven, uncovering halfway through, until bubbling gently at edges.
Jay went to a psychiatrist. “Doc,” he said, “I’ve got trouble. Every time I get into bed I think there is somebody under it. I get under the bed; I think there’s somebody on top of it. Top, under, under top. I’m going crazy!”
“Just put yourself in my hands for two years,” said the shrink. “Come to me three times a week and I’ll cure you.”
“How much do you charge?”
“A hundred dollars per visit.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Jay never went back. Sometime later he met the doctor on the street.
“Why didn’t you ever come to see me again?” asked the psychiatrist.
“For a hundred bucks a visit? A bartender cured me for 10 dollars.”
Busy, busy week. Lots of errands to carry out, one of which was totally unnecessary due to my complete incompetence. We also had Jessie for an overnighter which is always great fun if somewhat demanding (for Grandma, that is, who does all the heavy lifting).
Wow! What a week – lots of entertainment activities and lots of rain. Penny and Daisy positively squelch across the landscape these days. And no sign of it stopping anytime soon – Storm Kathryn is blowing in from the east. Also, I’m still having good days, bad days with my sciatica afliction but on the whole I am very, very much improved over those miserable first few weeks. Epidural injection this Friday so I’ll be running the London Marathon after all! Keep your fingers crossed.
A traveler was driving through Arkansas when he lost his way and got off the main highway. As he drove by, he saw rows and rows of pigsties and pigpens and pigs running in fields and pigs wallowing in mud. Suddenly, his eye caught something really strange. He did a double take, muttered to himself and then looked a third time. He wondered if he had seen correctly – it looked like a pig with a wooden leg!
He found the lane to the farm and drove up into the farmyard, where he was met by the farmer. “Excuse me,” the traveler said. “I was just driving by and looking at all your pigs, and I noticed something that I just had to stop and ask about. Tell me, did I see right? Is there really a pig out there with a wooden leg?”
The farmer smiled. “Oh, that would be old Caesar. He’s the finest pig a man could ever hope to have – and smart! Well, let me tell you a little about that pig. You see that barge down there on the river? That’s a mining dredge, taking out platinum ore. Old Caesar sniffed out the vein and showed us how to set it up. Now that dredge brings me in about $120,000 every year.
“There’s another thing, too, a little more personal. One night a couple of years ago I got to drinking and I guess I had more than I should have. I passed out drunk, fell down and knocked over a lamp. That started a fire in the house and old Caesar smelled the smoke. He came in the back door, got the wife and kid out, roused me up and got me out.
“There is no question about it – that night old Caesar saved all our lives and you know that is not the sort of thing a man is going to forget too easily.”
“Why,” the traveler said, “this is all amazing! I have never heard of a pig like this before! This is fantastic! But tell me, how did he get that wooden leg? Was he in a wreck or something?”
The farmer laughed and said, “Well, naturally, when you have a pig that smart, you don’t want to eat him all at once.”
