Leftover Corner: Meat Sauce to Pizza-dillas

Since my last blog post, my rustic tomato sauce has undergone an evolution. Basically, I turned it into a meat sauce by cooking up a pound of ground turkey and mixing it in. Now, that's all well and good, but not particularly tricky. I was, however, getting tired of the usual pasta iterations and tried to brainstorm a few new uses for my sauce.

Since my meat sauce usually winds up being more meat than sauce (It just happens that way; I think it's a character flaw of mine) it seemed to lend itself to less saucy applications. I looked through my refrigerator for additional inspiration, finding tortillas, shredded Mexican cheese, and little else.

That's when it occurred to me to marry food genres and create the Mex-Italian Pizza-dilla! (patent pending)

Ingredients:
Leftover Meat Sauce
1 Large Tortilla
Shredded Mexican Cheese
Olive Oil

Steps/Analysis:
First, brush a thin layer of olive oil on one side of the tortilla. Sprinkle on some salt if desired. Place the tortilla directly onto the top rack of a 375 degree oven. Let it crisp up a bit so that it will bear the weight of a substantial sauce. That should take between 5 and 10 minutes, but don't take your eyes off of it!

In the meantime, heat up the meat sauce on the stove top over low heat. You want it hot enough so that the cheese will melt on top of it.

When your tortilla is ready, spoon on a healthy amount of meat sauce, leaving some room around the edge. Sprinkle cheese over top and allow to melt.

Once melty and delicious, cut your pizza-dilla into quarters. I wouldn't recommend slicing it any thinner or the tortilla may not be able to support it's own weight.

Serving/Notes:
The Mex-Italian Pizza-dilla is quite the tasty culinary mutation. A fork is definitely a necessary accompaniment, though. Think of it as a life preserver in case you find yourself floating in a see of marinara.

Rustic Tomato Sauce

Didn't I tell you I'd be back? Didn't I?!

Coming from a large, Italian family, I've never made my own tomato sauce. There's always been someone around the who handled it. Someone who's been cooking sauce longer than I've been alive.

Since that is no longer the case, though, I'd give it a shot. Too proud (read: stupid) to ask for my mother's recipe, I tried to throw together my own, simple tomato sauce.

Ingredients:

1 Onion

1 Bell Pepper

2 28-oz Cans of Crushed or Diced Tomatoes
6 Cloves of Garlic

3 Teaspoons of Red Pepper Flakes

1 1/2 Teaspoons of Oregano

Olive Oil

Steps/Analysis:

To begin, dice the onion and bell pepper into uniform pieces. Peel and finely chop the cloves of garlic.

Put a large pot over high heat. Coat the bottom with a thin layer of olive oil and throw in your chopped onion, pepper, and garlic. Add your red pepper flakes and oregano and leave to saute. You really want to break the onion and bell pepper down about as far as they'll go. Stir occasionally, but don't move on at least until the onions are translucent.

Next, add the canned tomatoes. I chose diced, simply because it was the cheapest canned tomato option. Looking back, though, I'd recommend crushed. I have a hunch it would make a smoother, thicker sauce.

Stir to thoroughly incorporate everything and bring the pot to a simmer. Keep an eye on it, but the sauce will need to cook like this for at least an hour. That way, a lot of the water will evaporate out of the pot and the solid tomatoes will have a chance to break down. If you can let it go even longer, it'll only get better.

This is an easy recipe, but it is not a quick one.

When you're satisfied with the consistency of your sauce (or when you can't stand the waiting any longer because your kitchen is full of the smell of Italian cookery) remove from the heat and serve.

Serving/Notes:

Because I chose diced, my tomatoes stayed mostly solid throughout the cooking process. Ultimately, I decided to just call it "rustic" and chow down.

Naturally, I served this sauce over spaghetti. I also had a leftover chicken breast laying around, which I let simmer with the sauce for the last half hour or so.

The sauce didn't cling to the pasta as well as it might have, but was quite tasty otherwise. It had a nice kick to it. Also, the proportions of the recipe will leave lots of leftovers if you're only feeding yourself: probably enough for a week or so.

Super Duper Chunky PBJ

Hello, B.A. Gourmet-niacs! You thought I had abandoned you, didn't you? It's been a while, I know, but I do have an excuse for not posting a single recipe this month. I swear.

The truth is that the B.A. Gourmet is now the graduate school gourmet (Don't worry, there won't be any confusing name change). By that, I mean that I have enrolled in graduate school. I've spent the last few weeks packing, moving, unpacking, and adjusting to my return to academia. I haven't had much time for cooking, or, at least, cooking anything new and exciting.

I'm hopeful, though. Living on my own means that I'll be responsible for feeding myself every day of the week. Since I'm not made of money, I'll be cooking more often than not. That should mean a return to normalcy shortly.

In the meantime, I have a recipe-esque kind of peace offering: Super Duper Chunky Peanut Butter and Jelly.

Ingredients:

Bread

Chunky Peanut Butter

Jelly (I prefer raspberry)

Granola

Steps/Analysis:

Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you how to make a PBJ, step by agonizing step. It's up there with boiling water in the world of kitchen basics.

My variation on the sandwich, though, means sprinkling a handful of granola on top of the peanut butter before assembly.

I inherited a bag of somewhat bland granola from a loved one who was trying to get more fiber in her diet. Since I'm a fan of the texture of chunky peanut butter anyway, I thought this might be a way to put it to good use.

Serving/Analysis:

This will definitely be the crunchiest peanut butter and jelly sandwich you've ever eaten. If that appeals to you, you'll be in heaven. Embrace the inner schoolchild and consume with potato chips, carrot sticks, chocolate milk, whatever.

So, was this a cop out post? Perhaps. It's certainly nothing ground breaking. But it is a promise of better things to come. I haven't forgotten you, my dear readers!