Pasticcio Napoletano EN

This recipe was originally written for the first edition of the recipe book by parents, teachers, and students of the Eduplin Preschool.

These days Italians frequently use the word "pasticcio" to describe complicated stuff, much like Venezuelans would use "pastel" (pie). It is because, in all its forms, the pasticcio is a concoction of tomatos, meat, and pasta, baked in the oven like a pie.

Different forms of pasticcio have been prepared for centuries in the populations that border the Mediterranean Sea, with each region having its own version. The original recipes come from Grece and South Italy, and they consist of actual pies with crusts made of wheat filled with a ragú. Venezuelans are used to call "pasticcio" to the creamy and compact preparation served in many Italian restaurantes, but that, because of its characteristics, should be called "Lassagna alla Romana".

This dish is not a real pasticcio either, but it is much more like it than the Lasagna alla Romana, it's easier to make, and it's the one we like at home. It doesn't have cream, the souce is of tomatoes with meat instead of meat with tomatoes, and it has a very Mediterranean flavor. In contrast with the typical Caracas pasticcio, this one has an intense flavor, which makes it easy to accompany with other dishes, and it tastes very well after refrigerated and reheated.

• Ingredients
• The Sauce
• The Meat
• The Pasta
• The Pasticcio

Ingredients

• Tomatoes
  Four to seis ripe, plum tomatoes per person. If canned, add one shredded carrot per pound of tomatoes to compensate for the acidity (onions work too).
• Garlic
  One clove per person.
• Black Olives
  Four to six per person. Greek ones have a nice flavor.
• Anchovees
  One to two filets per person. Use the bownless and pink ones.
  
• Extra Virgin Olive Oil
  It is used generously, so have available at least half a cup for every two pounds of tomatoes.
• Perled Ground Beef
  70 to 120 grams per person. Choose a cut with some grease and have it ground coarsely in front of you. Packaged ground beef is not as good.
  
• Ground Parmiggiano or Peccorino Cheese
  About 50 grams per person.
• Fresh Basil
  cut in small strips.
• Fresh Orégano Leaves
• Pasta
  100 to 150 grams per person, depending on how hungry people are, and on other dishes. We use lasagna, but short pasta (penne, rigatonni, fussili) works great.
  
• Salt and Pepper
• Variations
  You can add other herbs like salvia, bay leafs, or thyme, to taste. You can also add a couple of strips of bacon per person, or an equivalent amount of pork to the meat.
  

The Sauce

Preparation tine for the sauce is proportional to the amount of tomatoes: aproximately half an hour, plus an addtional half hour for each four persons. The sauce takes time to thicken to the right point, but the work is very little. The sauce can be made in advance and refrigerated.

Cot the tomatoes in half and then in thin slices (if they are canned, squash them with your hands, keeping the liquid). Peel and cut the garlik in thin slices. Cut the anchovee filets coarsely. Pit the olives and cut them in slices.

Use a pan with enough size to hold all the tomatoes. Add enough olive oil to cover the bottom, and heat to low heat. Add the garlic and cook until it starts changing color (if that seems to be happening too fast, lower the heat!). And the anchovees and the olives, raise the heat a bit, and cook for a few minutes, until the anchovees and olives start to dehydrate (this step is to make the ingredients transfer their flavor to the oil).

Add the tomatoes and raise the heat to medium-high. Add some salt, and cook the tomatoes until they start to come a part and you begin to get a sauce. Lower the heat so the sauce doesn't sprinkle out of the pan (if you cover the pan, the cooking will take longer). If you used canned tomatoes, add the shredded carrots at this point.

Stir the sauce frequently with a wooden spoon so it doesn't stick to the bottom. Add olive oil during the cooking until the sauce has a brilliant, yummy color, and stops sticking to the bottom of the pan. The sauce is ready when it's thick enough to let you see the bottom of the pan when you run a wooden spoon accross it. The sauce, when ready, must be slightly oily.

The Meat

Season the ground meat to taste with salt, pepper, a good amount of basil, and other spices you like (I've used cinamon, cloves, paprika,.. at times).

Place a small amount of olive oil on a pan, and let it heat on high. Add the meat when the oil is hot. Stir constantly until the meat starts to brown. Remove the meat from the heat and add it to the tomato sauce. Place the pan in the stove again, recover the juices with wine, broth, or water, and add them to the sauce. Cook the tomato sauce until it thickens again.

Adjust the flavor of the sauce with salt and fresh pepper. Add, to taste, abundant basil and oregano.

The Pasta

When you're ready to make the pasticcio, cook the pasta in abundant, salty water. Remove the pasta from the water before it is done, and cool it with running water to stop the cooking.

The Pasticcio

You'll need enough medium-depth baking pans to hold the pasticcio. As an idea, a 16"x10"x3" pan is good for about eight people. The pans can be any shape.

Place a thin layer of sauce on the bottom of the pan. Then, susecively, add thin layers of pasta, sauce, and chesse, sprinkling with some basil each time. Repeat until the pan is full, adding some extra cheese to the last layer. If you're using lasagna, cut the pieces with your hands so they don't align from layer to layer, and they cover well the borthers of whatever shape of pan you're using; that will give structure to the pasticcio, and prevent it from cooking too much on the borders.

To serve, heat the pasticcion in an oven at 220 C (450F) until the cheese in the top layer starts to melt and brown (use less temperature when reheating it). Serve immediately.

You can accompany the pasticcio with a salad of dark green leaves, and a good red wine.

Caridad

Me bautizaron en la iglesita del Barrio El Aeropuerto, allí, cerca del Aeropuerto de Maiquetía y de Catia La Mar. Cuando quise casarme, la Iglesia pidió una fe de mi bautismo, pero la iglesita ya no tenía párroco, y estaba derruida y abandonada. Dije "¡Pues que me vuelvan a bautizar!", pero no me dejaron, porque mi entorno consideraba eso un sacrilegio (aunque sé que no lo es). Una prima tuvo que mover sus contactos e influencias para lograr hablar con el Obispo de La Guaira y conseguir la requerida fe de bautismo (la cual dudo tenga relación alguna con la original). Hasta allí todo bien.

¡Ah! Pero el día mi matrimonio mi novia se retrasó más de una hora, lo cual llevó no solo a tener que soportar toda clase de bromas por parte de mis familiares y amigos, sino también a que el Padre Pedro tuviera la oportunidad para llamarme aparte.

"¿Cuándo te confesaste la última vez?" me preguntó.

¿Cómo decirle que ni siquiera hice la primera comunión?

¡Piensa, piensa, piensa!

Le dije "¡Ay Padre! ¡Si usted supiera!".

¡Y qué remedio¡ Tuve que confesar mis pecados: la impaciencia, y la arrogancia. Sí, los reconozco.

¿Mi penitencia? La caridad. Y sí, la asumí como deber de pecador empedernido.

Había un carajito que se paraba a pedir limosna todas las noches en el semáforo que está en la salida de la Autopista del Este hacia la Avenida Principal de la Urbina. Todas las noches le entregaba el sencillo que llevaba encima, como hacían muchos otros conductores. Pero pasados un par de años de eso, me di cuenta de algo: el carajito no crecía, ni engordaba. A pesar de todo el dinero que recibía a diario, seguía igualito mes tras mes.

Un día le dije "Súbete y te llevo a comer". La respuesta obvia fue un "No" (era demasiado parecido a la típica táctica de los pedófilos ambulantes), así que le dije "Espera aquí, y te traigo un 'combo' de Mac Donalds", para lo cual hubo otro "No". Lo que el chamo quería era el dinero, no se por qué, no se para qué, pero no era para comer y crecer bien.

Así llegué a la conclusión de que o la caridad no sirve para nada, o que darle dinero a un niño de la calle no es caridad.

Back to XP

There are historical and circumnstantial reasons for my continuing to run Windows. My first personal computer run HP Basic, the second CP/M, the third MS/DOS, and after a short and unsuccessful stint with a Mac, my professional work started with MS Windows 2.0, and stayed on Windows for two decades or so.

But things have changed. These days I have to support only one Windows application,and that's something that can be done over a virtual machine. I have administrative access to several Windows servers for the rest. It's true I am a Windows junky in being an expert in Excel, Word, and Outlook, but that can be remediated.

As anyone who has run Windows for a few years knows, there comes a time in which the operating system becomes so unjustifiably screwed-up that the only solution is to reinstall everything. Reinstalations are not easy, and they are full of data-loss risks. Faced with the decision to reinstall Windows XP, or give Windows 7 a test ride, I decided that the time seemed right to switch away from WinXP. Ubuntu 8.10, which runs in two of my computers, seemed a good choice.

Requirements

• Preserve my e-mail. Ten out of my 12 e-mail accounts go through gmail, and the other two through POP3 services that keep a week's worth of messages, so that seemed doable.
• Preserve my data, mostly my projects and my photographs, but music and videos are in the list. Writing from Linux to NTFS partitions is still discouraged, but the available disk space (about 200Gbit) could be managed to deal with that.
• I need a WinXP virtual machine to be able to run Intel Fortran and Borland (now Code Gear or something) Delphi 7. I already know that VirtualBox (http://www.virtualbox.org/) can do that.
• Printing and scanning must work. Either a soft learning curve for other users, or moving the devices to one of the remaining Windows machines.

Outcome

Yes. Why not let you know about the outcome first?

I was not able to make the switch this time because of some unforseen issues with Bluetooth, remote desktops, display configurations, and learning curves, all of them things I could not deal with within the weekend I had set for the switch.

Ubuntu 9.04 came out during the effort, and several issues got fixed with the upgrade. The details are below.

Process

1. Backup, backup, backup.
2. Remove all the software that's not needed or that hasn't been used in a while.
3. Use JkDefrag to force files together at the begining of each disk.
4. Use Partition Magic to resize partitions and leave lots of space for the new install.
5. Leave the existing Windows XP partitions alive, just in case, with enough free space (a couple of Gibits) to let them operate.
6. Install Ubuntu 8.10 AMD64 with default options using the Live CD.

Details abut the failed switch

1. The Ubuntu resolution had to be fixed manyally for my 19", 1440x900 LCD display. Fixing the login screen was too difficult. The 9.04 Ubuntu upgrade fixed all that nicely. SOLVED.
2. My Motorola/Widcom BLuetooth dongle get's recognized, but no devices are available. That leaves out my favorite mouse, a Logitech Bluetooth portable. ANOYING, but can be dealt with.
3. VPN connections to Windows servers are not working. ANOYING, probably a matter of a large learning curve.
4. Remote Desktop Connections suck because they are too slow compared to Windows RDP. VNC doesn't cut it. WORKAROUND, connect through a console (SSH) and launch graphic applications through X-Windows, which works fine.
5. RDP connections to Windows machines works much better in 9.04. The sound, wich was broken in 8.10 is back, and Ctrl-Enter for a windowed remote desktop works again. NICE. A WiFi RDP is still not good enough for things like YouTube: unexplainable and ANNOYING.
6. Chat works fine using Pidgin.
7. Skype did not work on AMD64. Maybe a SHOW-STOPPER.
8. The procedure for moving e-mail from Outlook to Thunderstorm and then to Evolution did not recover all emails. ANNOYING. I can get recent e-mail from GMail/POP3, and the history can ve recovered from (very backed up) Outlook .PST files. The trick for making these experiments with GMail is to prepend "recent:" to your login, whichever e-mail client you are using.
9. Office. I know that OpenOffice works, but there are enough differences with MS Office to make for a steep learning curve. ANNOYING, but expected.
10. Audio and video conferencing. Steep learning curve to know how to make Ekiga connect to the servers I use. ANNOYING to SHOW-STOPPER.
11. Ubuntu (aptitude) certified software is not always to the latest version. UNKNOWN.

Conclusion

After Ubuntu 9.04, it is definitely worth it to spend another weekend trying to make the switch.

This report may be updated or corrected later.

Sopa de Cebollas

A través de los siglos, la sopa de cebollas ha sido considerada "comida de pobres" por la facilidad de su preparación y el bajo costo y disponibilidad de las cebollas y demás ingredientes. Hay recuentos pseudo-históricos que dicen que en las calles de Europa siempre había calderos llenos de sopa de cebolla, pan, y queso para atender a los necesitados en las frías noches de invierno.

La sopa de cebolla gratinada es de origen francés, y es tan deliciosa que los comensales suelen comerla como si de verdad estuvieran muertos de hambre.

La sopa puede fácilmente prepararse en grandes cantidades si se dispone de una olla del tamaño suficiente, y es la preparación obligada para finalizar los juegos de póker, dominó, o truco en casa, y así asegurarse de que los amigos parten bien despiertos de vuelta a sus hogares.

Ingredientes

• Una cebolla grande o dos medianas por persona.
• Una cucharadita de mantequilla por persona.
• Buen vino blanco, un vaso por cada dos personas.
• Aceite de oliva.
• Carne con hueso (osso bucco, lagarto con hueso, costillas, o rabo). De 100 a 150g por persona.
• Un poquito de pimienta, canela, salvia, comino, etc. para el caldo.
• Salsa inglesa.
• Un pimentón y media cebolla para el caldo.
• Una rebanada de buen pan fresco cuadrado, o la cantidad equivalente de otro por persona. Nada de pan viejo, que sabe ácido.
• 50g de queso emental por persona. Cualquier otro queso rico y derretible funciona.

Preparación

• Pelar la cebolla y cortarla en lunitas (por la mitad y luego en rebanadas delgadas) y colocarlas en una olla de suficiente tamaño encima de una capita de aceite de oliva y la mantequilla.
• Cocinar a fuego lento, removiendo de cuando en cuando, hasta que la cebolla pase de blanca, a cristalina, a amarilla, y finalmente a ámbar, que es cuando ha caramelizado. La cocción tarda. La temperatura puede ser más o menos alta dependiendo de cuánto tiempo uno esté dispuesto a estar al lado de la cocina cuidando que las cebollas no se tuesten. El resultado final es la mitad o menos del volumen inicial. Detener la cocción cuando las cebollas estén doradas. Los chefs "famosos" prefieren dejar caramelizar las cebollas al fuego más bajo posible por cuatro, ocho, o más horas.
• Limpiar la carne y dorarla a fuego bien alto, en el horno o sobre la estufa. Colocar la carne en una olla y agregar suficiente agua para que quede cubierta al ras. Cocinar a fuego lento (solo una que otra burbuja de ebullición) todo el tiempo disponible. Condimentar ligeramente con hirebas y especias desde el principio (un chorrito de salsa Worcestershire y otro de soya japonesa no le van mal; tampoco la canela y la nuez moscada). Agregar más agua cada vez que el líquido se reduzca por debajo de la carne, hasta que se esté listo para usar el caldo (el sobrante puede guardarse en la nevera, en la cual se convertirá en gelatina pasada una noche).
• Al momento de servir, poner a tostar el pan a temperatura baja en el horno por unos 10 minutos. Lo que queremos es pan durito más que bronceado.
• Rallar el queso, o cortarlo muy fino.
• Agregar el vino y un poco de caldo colado a las cebollas, y calentar a fuego bajo hasta obtener una sopa densa. Ajustar la sal y la pimienta.
• Precalentar el horno en modo "broil" (dorar por arriba).
• Bien sea en platos para horno individuales, o en una cacerola, colocar rápidamente un fondo de sopa de cebolla, y luego capas de pan tostado, y queso. Hornear enseguida. Queremos que el queso derretido impida que el pan se vaya al fondo y se ponga demasiado blando.
• Servir de inmediato acompañando con un buen vino tinto que compense la intensidad y dulzor de la sopa.